firefly

I was driving home from running errands this evening and kept noticing the brief blink of a firefly.  As a child I remember spending an entire evening trying to catch one of the beautiful glowing bugs as they tried to flutter out of reach.  This made me think though in a larger perspective.  After all our lives are but a blink of an eye, just as the light of a firefly lights the sky for a brief moment.  What if we were all fireflies, lighting the world with our actions.  Why shouldn’t we live our lives as something to be chased because of the beauty we present?  Why shouldn’t we set the standard higher: no longer a fly buzzing around busily in cacophony annoyance but lighting the sky with a gift of something greater.  The more we touch with our influence, the greater our light.

Baby girl!

I am having a girl.  Even though I kept flip flopping between girl and boy I had a feeling it was a girl.  I am excited to start shopping, but not ready to do so just yet.  I am excited to be able to crochet baby dresses and sandals for her.  It’s more real now and there is still so much to get done.  I feel a little behind because we lost all our baby stuff in the fire, so I am debating on whether or not I should register and maybe have a second baby shower to help us out a little bit.  My sister has offered to give some of her old stuff to us so after I take inventory of what we have I will see what is left we need, but at this point I feel we need EVERYTHING! 

IEEEEeeeeeeee

Like any little boy, my husband and I love tickling our son and have been doing so for a long amount of time since my son is super ticklish and enjoys being tickled.  My son is most ticklish on his chest, in-between his chest and arm pits.  Since this is where he gives us the best reaction, this is where we tickle him most.  My son is now at the copy cat phase and has decided to start tickling us back.  Of course a 19 month old doesn’t realize the subtlety of tickling, but he copies the movements as best he can by grabbing any skin he can get his hands on.  Of course we realize what he was doing so we thought it was adorable and always gave him a big reaction so he greatly enjoyed the sport of tickling people.  As a mom, we are so used to our children pulling on us and smacking us all over that often times we don’t take notice that his “tickling” hands are actually grabbing our chests.  I mean that’s where we tickle him; of course he would copy that.  The reality of his tickling didn’t hit home until I had several girlfriends over. My son, now a practiced tickler LOVED tickling anybody and in his excitement he always gave a high pitched IEEEEEEeeeeeeee noise as he grabbed at us to tickle us.

Well, as I mentioned I had a friend over and she had my son on her lap so that they were facing each other and playing and my son decided this would be a great opportunity to tickle my friend.  With a high pitch IEEEeeeeeeee, he began grabbing her chest.  As I mentioned earlier as a mom I never really took notice of this until my son had his hand on my friend’s bosoms screaming in delight.  My poor son had no idea what he was doing and my friend took it all in good stride as I explained what he was attempting to do.  She laughed for him and joked she would tell her husband she got to second base with a cute boy.  We tried to persuade him to tickle lower on the sides or the belly and dropped the issue…that is until I had another female friend over and the same situation was repeated.  I am so thankful I have such understanding friends who will laugh at the hilarity of this with me.  This phase lasted a couple of months and my son tickled many people during his rampage, but I am glad to say the need to “tickle” women’s chests have subsided so never fear you will no longer be molested by my son if you pay a visit to our house!

Ultimatum

I have been feeling more and more hopeless as my husband and I continue to work on the issues as we see the marriage counselor, but have been aware that the last two months have just been a repeating cycle without any sort of resolution.  At therapy this last week our therapist made the same conclusion and asked why we kept kitting this wall.  I explained that I had been very open and honest about where I was and how I feel and have essentially drawn a line in the sand as to what I am okay with and what I am not okay with.  I then told him of the few items I had reputedly asked Josh to do to show that he desires fixing our marriage.  This list consisted of things like being true to himself; if this is who he was and wanted to be then he needed to call my parents and explain to them everything that had happened.  Reading the scriptures all the way through once (since he hasn’t ever done so) to show me he is at least trying before he decides God doesn’t exist. Considering the promises he made me when we got married these things are miniscule tasks, along with others of the similar nature.  None of these items have been worked on and so in my eyes I feel that I am the only one trying to repair our relationship.  Josh agreed that these tasks were not unreasonable.  It was at this point that the therapist said that unless Josh was able to state his own line in the sand so we can compromise then he needed to do those things I set forth rather than agreeing with them and then ignoring them; he said that would only lead to divorce.  He said basically we needed to either follow through or admit we were just going in different directions. After this session I told Josh that I agrees and that I had been telling him the same things for weeks now and I was tired of pulling our relationship by myself.  I once again laid out the four or five things I needed to see progress in before the next session (two weeks) otherwise his actions would speak louder than words and I would pack up and head home.  So now I wait for two weeks to decide if my husband is honestly trying to work on our marriage or if I need to face the facts and move on.

There is nothing more hurtful then when you put all that you have out in front of you for everybody to see, admitting your need for help, affection and comfort and then to be rejected.  I feel that way when I pour out my heart in my blog posts and beg certain people to read and all I get are platitudes and proof of their neglect. I also feel this way in some relationships both with friends and family when I have been entirely open and honest and then feel abandoned, rejected or pacified as a weary parent would hush a child.  If you are even reading this, you obviously do not fit in this category because you are actively seeking me out as you read what I am dealing with and I can’t thank you enough for your support.  How does one deal with rejection?  I know I have my faults, but I am finally getting to the point in my life where I like who I am and what I accomplish and I feel I have a lot to offer without having to change who I am for someone else.  Cut those people from your life?  What if they are too imbedded?  How do we get over hurt pride because I am assuming that is the only reason this bothers me so much.  Maybe I am expecting too much from people who claim to be friends when in reality I should tray them as the strangers they have made themselves.  I know this post is just getting more and more ambiguous so I will end here with: I am who I am and I love being a mom.  I love being pregnant and I love all that I have accomplished.  I am who I am because of this combination and I am not willing to negotiate who I am to please another.

No Longer Ernie

As a child, like most children I watched Sesame Street every weekday.  I am probably stating my age, but this was before the time of Elmo and my favorite character was Ernie.  To me he was funny, loose and adventure seeking; in short, everything I thought I was and wanted to be.  I guess like a lot of other things from my childhood, I had forgotten all about my Sesame Street hero; that is until I started watching the program again, but this time with my son.  I began to once again look forward to the Bert and Ernie sketches and was shocked when I realized that although I still loved Ernie, I was able to associate more with Bert.  One sketch in particular stood out as Ernie was begging Bert to go outside and play ball, but all Bert wanted was quiet time alone so that he could read his book.  In another sketch Ernie can’t sleep so he starts singing a song, keeping Bert up in his adventure until he is tired enough to fall asleep. 

I was honestly upset about this change in character for weeks as I watched the show; that is until I realized what the change in character was.  I think there is a reason Bert and Ernie are always together and that’s because left alone they would be self destructive.  Ernie is spontaneous and often times careless while Bert is overly cautious but responsible.  As a duo they strengthen each other’s weaknesses.  The longer I thought on this the more I saw Ernie as a representation of childhood and Bert as a representation of adulthood.  Children (ie Ernie) need guidance to help direct their focus while adults (Bert) need a reminder of what is important in life by finding joy in the simple things life has to offer. So my change in character association made me feel betetr as I realized the responsibility and other characteristing I had gained to help me guide my son as he explores life.

Ha ha, I know I am a complete weirdo for analyzing Sesame Street characters, but I thought it was fun J

Ok the monotony is starting to drive me crazy again.  I think a big part is due to the pregnancy.  Because it is so stinking hot and humid out, I am just miserable outside already and it technically isn’t even summer yet.  Due to this, we no longer are going on our daily walks and sitting in the house doing the same routine over and over is making me batty!  I am really looking forward to my family reunion this June to give me a chance to leave the city and spend several days with my family, but until then I feel like I am just counting the minutes until naptime and then bedtime, just to start the same day over again.  Now that I am writing this out, I think it just because I haven’t had a chance to fill myself up emotionally.  As of right now I feel like I am the glue holding everything together.  My husband has been very good about taking over the kid when he gets home to give me time to myself, but lately it just doesn’t seem to be enough.  I think I need a night out; I need someone to take care of me, which really is a catch 22 since I tend to not let people take care of what I can do myself.  I guess I am starting to feel more acutely the strain on our marriage has had on the day to day aspects of my life.  While pondering this thought it makes me feel guilty because there have been people in my life before who have been divorced and although I tried to synthesize with them I never understood how one could let their marriage get to that point.  I was so naive and inwardly judgmental as I wasn’t able to understand the situation.  Now however, I realize a marriage can be destroyed by only one party.  It takes two to make a relationship work and if one person decided to quit trying, what is the other to do?  You can only carry a relationship so far by yourself before you are worn to the bone.  I am thankful my husband has decided to start trying again so although nothing has been resolved as of yet, I no longer feel as alone as I did.  To those who’s significant other just gave up on their life and relationship I am so sorry and I now know how to empathize with your situation.

Baby Steps

My husband has now seen a counselor and was diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress; he is now on an anti-depressant so I have hope that the medication and the continued counseling will hope clear his mind and hopefully he can return to the person I know him to be.  I know it is still going to be a long hard road, but at least he is finally taking the steps he needs to get better and I hope with him betting better, we can continue to mend our marriage.  As of right now our marriage seems to follow his mood swings both with the ups and the downs, but I at least have hope again.  I can now only hope this will make him question his decision to re-enlist because how can either of us survive another deployment?  One day at a time though.  For a while I was really upset that I was pregnant through all of this; please don’t get me wrong, I want another child more than anything else.  It just didn’t seem fair to bring another child into this situation, but now I am hoping it will give him clarity towards what is really important as well as possibly bringing us together as we add a new member to our family.  We are both looking forward to the ultra sound at the end of the month and I feel once the gender is known, the baby will be more real to him.  I guess that’s enough ramblings for tonight, but thank you for all who read this and to all who have sent kind words and support though this all; it have given me more strength than you know!

Cruel Irony

Today is Mother’s Day.  Today is also the due date of the baby I miscarried. I can’t help but think that I should have two children now, but the blow is softened knowing I am carrying a child once again within me.  The emotions aren’t as strong today as I thought they would be, but I think part of that has been the care and appreciation that my husband has shown me today.  Usually, he does not remember days such as these so the fact that he went out of his way to replace some of the favorite books I lost as well as breakfast in bed, helped me see the things in my life I have and are grateful for.

Growing into myself: Happy Mother's Day!

It’s funny how trials and hardships are the catalyst for getting to know oneself.  I never seem to know what I am made of until it has been tested and tried.  Although I feel as if I must relearn myself ever few months I no longer have the debilitating self doubt that carried my through high school.  The only thing I can attribute to this fact is that I know what my role is and I am proud of all I accomplish in the role of mother.  As I have mentioned before I have never been the overly feminine or nurturing personality and although I desired more than ever to be a mother I worried that it would not come naturally to me as it did to so many others.  Although there was the typical adjustment period I feel that for the first time in my life, I have found my calling.  Now I am not saying I am an awesome mother, but I am confident in my role and proud and privileged to be blessed with the gift and miracle that is my son.  Who would have thought that the job that is ever changing and so mentally, physically and emotionally taxing would be the one thing to give me confidence in who I am?  But no matter what happens in my life around my or how my relationships change with others, I will first and foremost always be a mother.  That confidence is something I have been searching my whole life for and now even though I am still self conscious about my person appearance and weight, over all it doesn’t matter because that does not affect my role as mother.  Although I am still filled with self doubt and second guessing, I know I always put my child first and do everything in my power to make him happy, keep him happy while teaching him the emotional and mental skills he will need for the duration of his life, while all the while learning all I can from him; this is what makes me a good mom.  As I am expecting a second addition to our family I can’t help but compare this pregnancy to my first and remember all the anxiety I felt and all the fear I faced at the endless possibilities of failure.  Not that I am a seasoned mom seeing I have only been doing this for nineteen months, but if I had any advice to offer it would be this:

-You are the world to an individual, make sure and stay worthy of that praise by always striving to be the best we can as we guide our children through the pitfalls of life.

-Remember yourself and learn that you are you…and you are a mother; find a balance so the mom aspect of your life strengthens the you aspect that was there pre baby.

-Set your goals high for what you want to get accomplished (whether daily or lifelong goals) and don’t be overly critical or too hard on yourself if you fall short.  Your children are watching and learning to shoot for stars even if we miss a time or two.

-Lastly, always share love and affection.  I know my son needs a good cuddle after he wakes up and although it often times throws off my schedule, I always well rewarded when he shows me affection in return with hugs and kisses throughout the day that many time heal any sort of ache in my heart.

We have been gifted with a great responsibility, so to all my fellow mommies out there: Happy Mother’s Day.  You are all amazing women and I know I have learned so much from many of you and could only hope to be the type of mom I see in many of you.  Remember today isn’t about the praise from our spouses or children (that’s if they even remember the day) instead today is a recognition that it take a hearty woman to fill her own shoes while tying the shoes of several others J

Confession

After much talking and several therapy sessions my husband has decided that to move past everything he needs to own up to who he is and what he now believes while working on what was broken.  Today my husband came home very impressed with his colleagues as they expressed their concern for him when they heard of his counseling.  Although I am glad he has that support it really upset me because I feel we are in the situation we are due to his actions and told him as much and how I didn’t have a support group from my friends because I didn’t feel it was my right to disclose our dirty laundry.  I have to admit I was surprised when he suggested I share everything because I needed the support of others as well as allowing him to be accountable for his actions.  So this post is going to be a more in-depth description of what we are struggling with.  If you feel this is too personal then know you don’t need to read any further, but I am aware of who reads my blog and we both feel that this is the next step we need to take.  Having said all of this, if you feel in any way that you will either judge me or my husband, I advise you to stop reading.  I would love comments of support and love, but anything negative at this time will be deleted, the purpose is not to point blame, but to explain our situation as we try and repair our marriage and to gain the advice and support from those who might have gone through a similar situation.

It all started about two months ago when my husband and I were up late talking as is normal for us.  My husband stated that he was having an issue with some of the doctrine in our church.  I did not push the matter, but I thought long and hard on it.  I didn’t sleep well that night and was really concerned so I went over to a friend’s house to share with her some of my worry.  While telling her my fears I casually said that I believed my husband was behaving himself and so these questions he had must just simply be a test of his testimony.  For the couple of people who aren’t LDS, we believe in the word of wisdom which means we do not partake of any addictive or harmful substances.  This friend very kindly informed me that her husband had seen my husband at work several times smoking, which is something we have decided together we would not do.  This really worries me and made me wonder how long it had been going on.  This is something that although I don’t agree with I understand.  You see, my husband began smoking at the age of thirteen so giving it up was difficult, but I was always aware of the temptation that was there.  Plus I know he was more prone to give in to those temptations when he was depressed or stressed, seeing as he was both this bit of news didn’t surprise me greatly.  The very upsetting part was that I am aware of this temptation for him and for the last year since he got home from deployment have been asking how he was doing with it and if he had smoked.  Every single time he had told me no he had not smoked.  I recalled several days he smelled and even tasted of smoke and confronted him about it, but he always had an explanation and I felt ridiculous for having believed him despite the obvious conclusions.   I confronted my husband about it that night and although it took much prodding, I learned that he had begun smoking again while deployed and really hadn’t stopped since he had been home.  This meant that for the last year and a half my husband had been lying about choices.  He said it was because he didn’t want me to worry about him and because he knew I wouldn’t approve so it was easier to lie to me than to face my disappointment. 

Although this certainly didn’t help our relationship, I never wavered in my feeling or love for my husband.  After all within the last year my husband had been injured while deployed, we lost all of our belongings in a house fire and we suffered a miscarriage.  Although I did not agree with how he dealt with things and I certainly did not appreciate the lying I could still see how he had gotten himself into the situation he was in.  The next several nights we talked about what he wanted and we even went out and bought him an ecig. To help him quit seeing as it is an unhealthy habit and nothing we want to raise our son up around.

And then just a couple of days after this recent discovery the big blow to our marriage hit.  I am the frugal miser of the family so I have always been in charge of the budget and the bills.  So I was very startled when I saw our phone bill was $300 more than it should have been.  I began checking our call logs to see how we could have gone so far over our minutes when I noticed a number that kept reappearing on my husband’s phone line.  I asked him who the number belonged to and was surprised to find out it was an old girlfriend from high school.  I let him know was not okay with this and that I needed him to stop talking to her.  Obviously, if he was spending that much time on the phone with her there were huge gaps in our communication.  He agreed that he would stop talking to her and I was relieved and frustrated as I paid the very large bill.  Only a week later I was up at night unable to sleep and felt the need to look through my husband’s phone which we had talked about years before and agreed we were both free and open to check in on each other.  I was going through his text messages when I came across a picture message of his old girlfriend.  It was nothing inappropriate, but there is no reason a single woman should be sending a picture of herself to a married man.  I began checking his call log and saw once again that the phone conversations between them had not stopped or even slowed since he agreed he wouldn’t talk to her.  I was heartbroken.  What did this mean?  Once again I confronted my husband about it and asked if he had feelings for this girl.  He admitted that he did.  I asked him if he loved her.  He admitted that he did.  I asked if it had ever gotten sexual.  Knowing she lived in CO I knew nothing physical had happened but that didn’t mean it hadn’t gotten sexual.  He said that it had never gotten to that point.  He said he had not meant for feelings to develop but he would never take it any further than it had already gotten.  I let him know that seeing as he loved her I really did not want him talking to her again and that although nothing physical had happened this was still considered cheating and if I found out he had talked to her again then I would leave because I deserved better and he needed to choose between her and me.  He once again promised that he would never talk to her.  I asked how this had happened and why he was talking to her instead of me.  It was at this time that he confessed that he was more than just questioning the church; he no longer believed in it and he had started talking to this woman about it since he knew I would not agree with his decision.  Within a matter of a week and a half I felt as if I no longer knew my spouse anymore.

I was devastated how all this was happening, especially now that we are bringing another child into the world.  We both decided marriage counseling would be beneficial.  So far it has been a very slow process and what our homework was this week was for my husband to be honest and straight forward about what he wants and who he is because until that happens, we can’t solve anything.  Hence this very long blog.  Of course there is a lot more to all of this that I don’t want to get into yet as well as things that are sensitive so I would love and be open to all encouragement and solutions.  At this time I am trying to decide if I should see a counselor myself to help me work through my feelings and emotions, but I am unsure if this is necessary.  If you read this all the way through I love you all and appreciate your concern in our situation.  Please keep us in your prayers as we continue to work through this.

My Happy Place

So last night I attended a group therapy session on stress management.  We did a visual tour where we were asked to close our eyes, relax and try and use all our senses to see, feel, smell, etc what was being described to us.  Now being the realist that I am I started off pretty skeptical about the purpose of this imagination time.  Despite my hesitation, I gave it my all.  I imagined the meadow of flowers and the path through the woods, the flowing river and the crystal cave, associating images I have seen in my life with what was being described to me.  I was caught off guard when in the cave we were asked to find the door with our name on it.  Although I had to search for my door I seemed to know where it was at.  We were told to open the door and see what was inside.  In my mind I was instantly greeted by a large circular room.  There were no windows and the walls were cobblestone.  The room was brightly lit by what seemed like candle light, setting a mood of comfort and not over exposure.  Half of the room was a series of bookshelves that fit the circular walls perfectly, spanning from the floor to the ceiling and ever shelf was full of leather bound and ancient books.  At first this was all I saw in the room and a sense of lose filled my heart as I remember the large library I had so recently lost in our apartment fire, but I was guided on by the therapist as she asked us to search the room, finding all the little surprises we might find.  So as I turned around in the room I saw a leather chaise with a small walnut table next to it.  These beautiful pieces were close to a stone fireplace making it the lightest spot in the room for reading as well as the warmest.  Upon further exploration I saw a picture of my son set up on a pedestal as something important.  Next to the picture was wooden and whicker pink bassinette, adorned with a large soft pink bow and white fluffy bedding inside.  I looked around the room once again to see if my children or anyone else were there, but I was alone and their presence was known through the tokens of the picture and bassinette. I didn’t find much else in the room, but I didn’t feel there needed to be anything else as the therapist explained that what we saw in our room was our happy place. 

As we opened our eyes and began to draw what we had seem I began to analyze what I saw.  For starters it should be no surprise that I had a room full of books seeing as I am an avid reader and got my degree in literature, yet, it surprised me.  Mostly because after the fire my husband and I decided that we would not be able to replace the library I lost and as we entered the world of multiple little ones it just didn’t seem practical.  I was very okay with this decision and have now entered the community of e-readers.  So it surprised me that my heart still longs for the grand library of books I know is too foolish to own.  I was also surprised that while my children were represented, my husband was not. Right now I can only imagine that this is due to the difficulties we are going through right now.  In honesty, we have talked pretty seriously about separating, but I guess I still thought he might still be in my heart; that he might still have comfort to offer me.  I guess at this time anyway, that is not the case.  The last thing that really surprised me was the pink bassinette.  I am only sixteen weeks pregnant so we do not know the gender, but  this was so over-obviously pink that I now wonder why that was the color I saw.  Is my self-conscious telling me I am carrying a girl, or was it pink because I slightly fear having a girl and I was trying to show myself there was nothing to be afraid of?  I know, I know I am probably over analyzing at this point, but it was all very interesting to me.  I also was curious about the circle room and asked the therapist about it and she said that circular people are more egalitarian, which if you know me doesn’t always fit since I am kind of a control freak.  I can only assume that means that in my happy place I feel comfortable enough to be taken care of instead of being the one to take care. Overall I so glad I did the exercise and I feel like I know myself just a little bit better now.

*these are not my pictures, I found them on yahoo and they most matched what I visualized. 

The scared awkward girl within

We should be finding out the gender of the baby in three to five weeks and I am so very excited for this.  As soon as I found out I was pregnant I instantly had an attachment to the little life growing inside of me, but as soon as you find out the gender it is even more than just a nameless life.  It becomes your little boy or your little girl.  I also think this gives the spouse a chance to bond with the child by helping picking out names and giving them an opportunity to connect with the fetus I already know so well.  As we get closer to finding out I have had more and more people ask whether I am hoping for a boy or a girl and people are always surprised with my answer.  First of all I would be thrilled to have either and I know either way that child was always meant to be with our family, but in all honesty, I am hoping for another boy. 

Most assume since I have boy I would hope for a girl, but to be very honest, having a girl scares me.  I know there is a learning curve and the unknown and I know it is something I could learn, but whenever I think about having to raise a girl, the scared awkward girl within me awakens to voice my insecurities.  You see growing up I hated the fact that I was a girl.  I always wanted to play with the boys and found even at even the age of five or six I was attached to stereotypes and expectations.  I wasn’t allowed to storm the castle and save the princess because I was supposed to be the princess.  I didn’t want to be chased by the boys at recess so instead I helped them chase the girls, but this put me in a limbo for I was never one of the guys, but I was also never considered a girl either.  This took a more uncomfortable turn for the worse when I started developing quite quickly.  Sports became painful as my developing bosom grew and I hated the stupid contraction I was now required to wear daily called a bra.  My guy friends were quick to notice my changing features and once again I felt more cast off than ever.  Then the horror of my monthly “gift”.  The cramping and difficulty of using tampons horrified me as I realized despite my best efforts, I was a girl.  I didn’t know how to be a girl and never felt like one before with my bulky frame, long ratty hair and my general lack of concern for my appearance. 

Over the years I tried to grow into the role of female and girl, but I always felt awkward and self conscious of who I was.  It wasn’t until I met my husband that I finally felt comfortable to be who I was.  Aggressive, stubborn, athletic and when the mood struck seductive.  However, with recent events all these securities are sadly back in the forefront of my mind.  So then how could I raise a girl myself?  All the pain and emotions I never knew how to deal with.  All the hate and self loathing I experienced I fear could be reflected in myself for my children to pick up and I hate the thought of that.  Once again I know that should we be blessed with a girl such things will be taken a day at a time and I would learn much.  Just my thoughts of the night.

A little popper and a breakthough

Being an Army wife is really hard.  There are a lot of things that are expected of you without question and while the Army says they support families, when in reality we are only important or beneficial as far as we are keeping our soldiers happy and healthy.  It is not uncommon for an Army wife to be pregnant by herself, deliver a child by herself and raise their children as a single mom would, all the while fearing for their spouse’s safety.  However, in my case although I faced all this myself I held honor in my heart for my husband and was proud to be an Army wife.  And while there had been a lot more light shed on the struggles of reintegration when the soldiers come home, there is nothing that can prepare a wife for her husband who comes home with PTSD. 

The signs aren’t always obvious; at least for us they weren’t.  When my husband first got home he had lots of high anxiety, but was told this was normal as they had to get used to mingling with civilians and menial tasks that had been forgotten during deployments.  When Josh’s anxiety remained high even months later I asked what he thought of PTSD and was surprised at the very negative outlook he had on it.  He said he knew there were people who actually suffered with it, but more often than not, it was just a soldier’s excuse to get medication or a way for someone to try and get out of the Army.  Despite his answer, I continued to watch his behavior.  Josh has always been a very easy going, go with the flow sort of guy, so when his stress levels started surpassing mine I was concerned, but considering all he has been through with his injury, to coming home to a six month old child and having to learn the role of dad overnight, as well as all the continued stresses of work and life it seemed understandable to have stress.  Yet, he still didn’t feel quite right.  I always felt his anxiety sky rocket when we went to common places like Wal-Mart or the mall.  He couldn’t ever sit comfortably through dinner if his back was towards a door or window.   All of this was easy enough to write off as common.  It’s not like these things were taking over his life so I remained silent about it all, just voices my concerns here and there.  However, as the months wore on I noticed how short a fuse he seemed to have.  He wouldn’t often get upset with me or my son, but with random people and co-workers his anger would zoom from a two to a ten over something trivial.  All the while I tried to get him to tell me about his experiences in Afghanistan and had him share his feelings and emotions with me when he took shrapnel to the neck, but looking back now I see how he looked back on such events with a detached outlook, meaning the fears and emotions he really felt are buried somewhere inside his subconscious. 

After we lost everything in the apartment fire we had, Josh’s stress hit new height causing to have ulcers.  His other symptoms were highly exaggerated as well, including his long bouts of depression and self loathing.  I expressed my concerns of his having PTSD, but he didn’t seem to agree with me.  However, I kept bringing it up until he finally agreed to meet with a counselor on post.  I was so excited about this appointment, thinking my husband would finally get the help that he needed, that I would finally get my husband back instead of this automaton who was walking through his responsibilities in life.  I was sorely disappointed when my husband came home enraged; after he had shared all he had been through between the injury the fire and the miscarriage and had related his symptoms to the counselor, he had been advised to take deep breaths to help clear his head.  REALLY?!!!!! I had tried so hard to convince him to try counseling and now more than ever he felt justified that it was a waste of time.  My husband continued to spiral out of control, taking on addictive habits, lying, and questioning everything we have built our life on to the point our relationship hit a brick wall.  He accuses me of being unable to relate to him and the while still denying the fact that there is a problem. 

After seeing a marriage counselor and long talks about our goals Josh has once again agreed to try a counselor.  He once again replayed all he had been going through and we are now waiting for the counselor to schedule a blood test to find out what Josh’s levels are at before they continue counseling to see if he is need of medication.  I have to admit I am not expecting a whole lot after the last incident, but like everything else I have to have hope.  I guess it all came to a head tonight, which is what inspired this post in the first place.  As of tonight my husband has been home from his deployment for one year and one month, well at the dollar store they had the fun little poppers that bang and shoot the confetti.  My son and I have been playing with them for days and my little one always gets such a kick out of it.  Well tonight we were down to our last one so I had my little man help me shot it off while Josh was coming out of the laundry room.  All I can say is that my husband’s reaction was one of defense and anger.  The wild look in his eyes scared me and I apologized at once.  Over and over again Josh had claimed that such things didn’t bother him at all, but tonight he was literally faced with the falsehood of that statement.  After he had a change to regain his compose he apologized immediately for getting so upset.  I asked him if now he would at least admit that there was a problem.  He finally admitted that there was indeed a problem.  For tonight we left it at that. 

I am by no means blaming all we are going through right now on PTSD, but I know it is a large contributing factor and Josh has admitted that he is not happy.  I just hope he gets what he needs so that we can be happy together again.