I don't like to complain. Truth is someone always has it worse, and people don't like whiners. Hell, I don't like whiners, but today my Soldier Boy left to serve God and country. I said my good-byes and gave hugs and kisses. I didn't cry this time. This time was different. He is deploying for a mere 93 days. Many people would balk at being separated from their spouse for 3 months. Many spouses have never spent that much time away from their other halves. As a military wife, 93 days is a drop in the bucket. Short enough to live through, long enough to miss him. Yes I am missing him already.
I'm grateful though that I have my children and work friends to help me through the next 93 days. We have made it through twice as long, and I have no doubt that we will make it through this one.
I decided that I would use this time to train up for something I have been wanting to do for years. I want to do some sort of triathlon or mud run or half-marathon. So I am training up and getting in shape while he is gone. Hopefully he will come back to a new and improved me. I hope 93 days is long enough to accomplish that goal. We will see how that goes.....
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Overcoming SAD-ness
The fall/Christmas season is a difficult time of the year for me. It always has been and there were years that it was chaos. It wasn't until recently that I realized I probably have some sort of seasonal affective disorder (SAD). The depression starts in earnest right around September and is in full swing by mid November, usually becoming more manageable by January and ending sometime around March.
Now many people would say that SAD is not real, and is just like every other form of depression: in your head. I would have thought so too if it wasn't for the fact that my husband, not a shrink or a medical self-diagnosing website, by my best friend and life partner pointed it out to me about 5 or 6 years ago. At the time we had only been together about 6 years, but he noticed that every September my moods would start changing, and I was more sullen and irritable. My sleeping patterns took on a different rhythm and eating was more like a roller coaster of binge and starve. It got to the point that for years it was the season that without antidepressant medication, I couldn't function like a normal human being.
When I started to look back on my choices and decisions it seemed like everything that every went "wrong" in my life happened in those months. Whether they happened because life and destiny made them happen or because I was the root cause of the chaos, it didn't matter. These months were always chock full of high drama living. In my teens I moved out of my house in late August only to move into a worse situation by October. I walked out on a relationship of two years and an engagement in November. I left my first husband one October, and divorced him three Octobers later. I almost wrecked my second marriage one October, and came dangerously close to a second divorce one November. Another November I remember being away from home visiting family and friends and thinking that I would love to disappear and never return to my life. I figured out that I needed to get my shit under control or I would leave my life in shambles.
I taught myself to get through these months without meds and not making my family miserable in the process. I learned to look at myself through a different lens and understand that it would pass. I also taught myself not to make any big decisions during these months. I just ride out the storm, and then when the sun shines again, I can move on. My husband also has learned that in order to help me through these months, he just lets me be. He listens, I usually cry about things that don't always make sense. He learned that he can't fix everything, but that sometimes just a hug or a soothing movie on the couch helps more than anything else. He also learned to accept that during these months little makes me smile.
I can't tell you if its the moon or the position of the stars during these months. I don't know if it was the high drama living I grew up with as a child. Sometimes I wonder if my expectations of the fall season were always so high that I crashed around them. I just know that during these months, life can be hellish for me. I also know that I have learned to get through them. Now the sadness doesn't last nearly as long, and I don't wreak havoc on my life. This year the move to Germany made these months a bit harder than I thought but I got through them, and I am feeling good these days. Oddly enough fall is still one of my favorite seasons.
Now many people would say that SAD is not real, and is just like every other form of depression: in your head. I would have thought so too if it wasn't for the fact that my husband, not a shrink or a medical self-diagnosing website, by my best friend and life partner pointed it out to me about 5 or 6 years ago. At the time we had only been together about 6 years, but he noticed that every September my moods would start changing, and I was more sullen and irritable. My sleeping patterns took on a different rhythm and eating was more like a roller coaster of binge and starve. It got to the point that for years it was the season that without antidepressant medication, I couldn't function like a normal human being.
When I started to look back on my choices and decisions it seemed like everything that every went "wrong" in my life happened in those months. Whether they happened because life and destiny made them happen or because I was the root cause of the chaos, it didn't matter. These months were always chock full of high drama living. In my teens I moved out of my house in late August only to move into a worse situation by October. I walked out on a relationship of two years and an engagement in November. I left my first husband one October, and divorced him three Octobers later. I almost wrecked my second marriage one October, and came dangerously close to a second divorce one November. Another November I remember being away from home visiting family and friends and thinking that I would love to disappear and never return to my life. I figured out that I needed to get my shit under control or I would leave my life in shambles.
I taught myself to get through these months without meds and not making my family miserable in the process. I learned to look at myself through a different lens and understand that it would pass. I also taught myself not to make any big decisions during these months. I just ride out the storm, and then when the sun shines again, I can move on. My husband also has learned that in order to help me through these months, he just lets me be. He listens, I usually cry about things that don't always make sense. He learned that he can't fix everything, but that sometimes just a hug or a soothing movie on the couch helps more than anything else. He also learned to accept that during these months little makes me smile.
I can't tell you if its the moon or the position of the stars during these months. I don't know if it was the high drama living I grew up with as a child. Sometimes I wonder if my expectations of the fall season were always so high that I crashed around them. I just know that during these months, life can be hellish for me. I also know that I have learned to get through them. Now the sadness doesn't last nearly as long, and I don't wreak havoc on my life. This year the move to Germany made these months a bit harder than I thought but I got through them, and I am feeling good these days. Oddly enough fall is still one of my favorite seasons.
Sunday, December 25, 2011
Gardens of Stone
The weekend in Bastogne we also visited the American Military Cemetery in Luxembourg. Yes the one where General Patton is buried. While we did visit his gravesite, that wasn't the highlight of the visit. The cemetery is breathtakingly beautiful. It is also overwhelmingly sad all in the same breath. When you enter you see the rows upon rows of stoic stone crosses with the occasional star of David interspersed throughout. As I walked up to the first row of markers, I noticed that the Star Spangled Banner had started playing from a tower-like structure behind me. As our National Anthem played tears just flowed down my cheeks at the loneliness of being buried on foreign soil, at the sacrifice that so many paid for the cause of freedom, at the debt that is owed to these individuals. Three or four more songs followed after the National Anthem, and I can only remember America the Beautiful and Swing Low Sweet Chariot, all of them instrumental. I couldn't stop crying. I took pictures to remember the lighting at the cemetery that day, as the sun finally peaked through the clouds and rays of sunlight bathed the Garden of Stone in glorious streaks of warm sun.
I went to the tower that was providing the only remembrance from home these soldiers were getting: music. It turned out it was a chapel; the place where I said a quick thank you to all those who came before me. We didn't stay long in that amazing Garden of Stone, but you don't have to be there long to have a lasting impression of their final military formation.
*First picture says Dec 81 underneath however that is part of the iPhone app that I use to take the black and white shots. (Hipstamatic App)
I went to the tower that was providing the only remembrance from home these soldiers were getting: music. It turned out it was a chapel; the place where I said a quick thank you to all those who came before me. We didn't stay long in that amazing Garden of Stone, but you don't have to be there long to have a lasting impression of their final military formation.
*First picture says Dec 81 underneath however that is part of the iPhone app that I use to take the black and white shots. (Hipstamatic App)
The Battle of the Bulge
It's not everyday that you get to walk the same area of the largest battle fought by Americans during WWII. It's not everyday that you get to see hundreds of people come out and reenact the heroism that took place in that small town in Belgium. I got to experience this first hand the weekend of December 10th, and it was amazing! We (hubby and I) took our son on a Scouting adventure and stayed in a wonderfully renovated train station in Luxembourg. We walked the area of the battlefield and saw cars, guns, people dressed up as if it was still 1944. The small town of Bastogne had been transported back in time and was reliving its struggles along with its huge successes. The best part was the idea that we should commemorate the memory of so many who paid the ultimate sacrifice for the sake of this town and for all of Europe. We had a great time sifting through history and experiencing a sliver of what life may have been like at that time. I know at 10 my son has no clue what he was privileged to see that weekend. I can only hope that he one day looks back and remembers fondly that when he was 10 mom and dad took me to see Bastogne.
*The pictures below were taken using my iPhone and a special app that allows me to take 'vintage' type photos. Love this app! Hipstamatic - if you're wondering.
*The pictures below were taken using my iPhone and a special app that allows me to take 'vintage' type photos. Love this app! Hipstamatic - if you're wondering.
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