I'd love to tell you how well we've been doing for the last two weeks. I'd love to be one of those military wives who is all sunshine and strength.
But the truth is that I'm about 45% sunshine and strength. And about 55% frustration, sadness and weariness.
When it comes right down to it, we're fine. The kids are really fine. I'm pretty fine. My husband seems pretty much not fine.
I'm a little afraid though. I'm seeing some scary signs.
In these last two weeks since my husband left on his deployment, I've been seeing some tiny glimpses of just how bad things could get, if I let them.
I'm seeing the very first signs of depression. I've been sleeping during the day and not at night. I've been letting things go, like housework and volunteer work. I've gotten way behind and the scary thing to me is that I don't care. But I've been completing the tasks that really have to be done and taking care of the kids.
I haven't been wanting to leave the house. I'm not lonely. In fact, the scary thing is that I'm not lonely at all. I just don't want to be around people. What I think of as shyness has escalated. I've been turning down invitations. I haven't been returning phone calls, even to the bug guy. All because I don't want to talk to anyone.
My biggest fear has always been that I would turn out to be clinically depressed. Or agoraphobic. The agoraphobia is something that has worried me since I was a kid and my parents took in my cousins while my aunt was treated for agoraphobia.
I'm feeling a little down. I'm feeling like I need some alone time. I'm feeling typically shy. But I'm a little freaked at how easily I could let that slip into depression, agoraphobia and a social anxiety disorder.
So last Friday I decided to take the kids on a little surprise weekend trip and left the messy house and my big, enticing bed behind.
Last night I washed the dishes. I did laundry. This morning I took out the trash.
Those are little things, but they have helped me feel better. It's not hopeless. I can claw my way out of this rut.
Today I am going to go to the post office and mail my husband a package. He's cold there. He needs a warmer blanket and some sweat pants. It will be the first time in two weeks I've done something that wasn't just for the kids.
And then I need to decide. Am I better off wallowing for a bit, pampering myself and saying to hell with it all. Or should I push myself.
Right now, I just want a nap.