I've been feeding myself every cliche in the book this last month. Let's see there has been "What doesn't kill us make us stronger" and "Every cloud has a silver lining" and the the good ole "It's in Gods hands" "Fake it till you make it " Blah blah blah. All those little things we tell ourselves to get us through another day.
I can't deny it anymore, I am under a LOT of stress right now. Between the move, the money, Christmas, being homesick and lonely, and Tony's impending deployment, I can longer fake the funk. I can't pretend it all away. I can't be positive to get positivity in return. Sometimes, you know, life just SUCKS, and as much as I'm trying to roll with the punches (oh yeah that's another one!) The punches are landing, and leaving welts that I can no longer leave unattended. Each hit, is breaking open the pissiness wound that is barely being held together with my rainbow and sunshine bandage.
On top of it all, I've been feeling a lot of pressure from not doing my "wifely"duty. Tony hasn't been pressuring me because he's SO not that way, but it's mostly myself. Knowing that it has been so few and far between, and seeing that look in his eyes when I come to bed. It's just too much. Last night though. I was ready... until he walked in, and tried to hold me and I just felt nothing but sheer panic. I felt trapped, clausterphobic, anxious and not in that quivering love pudding, kind of way. Next thing I know, I'm clutching the pillow to my face, and yelling "The pressure, the pressure is too much! The pressure" Poor Tony. I tried to explain it to him but what came out was "I was ready until you got in here" Which he took as "You totally disgust me in every way shape and form" I could see the hurt in his eyes, and I just felt BAD.
We turned the light off, and tension was palpable. I asked him if he was mad, of course he said No, that the last thing he wanted to do was pressure me. I asked if he was hurt, and that answer was a longer time in coming, and he finally said yes. I laid there my chest to his back, and curled my face under his shoulder blade, and felt nothing but sorrow for hurting the one person I love more in the world. Hurting him, and not knowing WHY I felt this way.
That's when the thoughts started rushing in. Deployment, pay shortage, Christmas, bills, lonliness, homesickness, bam, bam, bam hitting me, each one like a physical punch to my mental gut. Next thing I knew, my lip was quivering, my breath started catching, and I was in full sob mode.
I sobbed for an hour, and blurted out all the things I was worried about, and had been keeping inside. I also had a mini panic attack, and hyperventilated, unable to catch my breath, which freaked me out even more. Every sentence starting with a sob filled "What if" or "I don't know" or "What can we do". Tony just holding and making calming noises while I verbally purged all the shit that has been making me FEEL like shit the last six weeks or so. I was in a state in which I hadn't been in a long time. Even when I thought I was done crying, I'd start all over again. When the actual sobs stopped, my eyes still leaked, as if to say "Hey, there has been quite a back order, and we need to get these OUT!"
I've barely cried since before the move. I held it in the best I could. A few times the tears threatened, but I always pushed them aside, telling myself that this is what happens when you live the life we do. But it all came to a head last night, and it cleared the air between Tony and I.
I woke up this morning with a renewed sense of positivity. Refreshed, and feeling ok. Knowing that all would be ok in the world. That is until this evening when I looked up Tony's pay for the first. The pay that was supposed to be back pay for all the shit we were not given, only to see that it was WRONG AGAIN, becuase of a dumb clerical error. The lady put in a ST. Louis zip code instead of our zip code, and that is a big difference a month in housing. So once again I'm left scrambling.