Ave atque vale Sapper Steven Marshall

I was driving home about an hour ago and saw a shooting star go across the sky. Usually I love shooting stars, and see them as hopeful and make a wish. For some reason, this one left me with a sense of dread and foreboding. I am trying to write it off as an overactive imagination.

I checked the news when I get home, and learned that the second casualty of this rotation came today, 24 year old Sapper Steven Marshall, 1PPCLI (the Wolf's former home), was killed earlier today by an IED.

Rest in peace brave soldier, and may your loved ones find comfort in the days to come.

Red Friday

... and the countdown becomes a count up.

Until the next time we are together, my Wolf.

Half my heart goes with you.

Please keep it safe.

Loyalty

This post started in my head because of a few people who I encounter in my daily life that questioned, or at least reacted with shock, to my stated intent to remain loyal to the Wolf while he is deployed.  These are casual acquaintances, who know nothing of the challenges we have been facing approaching this deployment.  It raised conversation on a MilSpouse Chat Forum I frequent as to loyalty to one's spouse/partner, and how it seems, in our socitey, to be becoming rarer.


Unfortunately in our modern society, one of instant gratification and the "me" attitude, the willingness to sacrifice, to stand by your partner (or a friend) when there is personal sacrifice, or even personal discomfot involved, seems to be a foreign concept to some.


It is also appearant that this lack of loyalty is not only becoming "accepted" in some circles, it is becoming expected behavior.  


Case in point:  it has came up in previous conversations between the Wolf and I, and came up again today when I was in conversation with his sister-in-law.  Since previous partners of his have cheated on him (while deployed or not) it is in the back of his head that I will too, and that he can't reasonably expect my loyalty while he is away.  While normally my reaction to this would be to take offense and defend my character, with him I can see where the previous baggage has came from (I knew some of the women, and was his friend though a few of them), the circumstances that have taught him this.


There is also another spouse on the chat forum who is going through something with her hubs, recently deployed.  His "buddies" are filling his head with stories of how "every wife cheats".  This is feeding on baggage he carried from a previous relationship as well, and causing them strain.


It is sad, to me, that our society in general, and the military life in particular, is now seeing infidelity as the "new norm", the expected behaviour, and the people who choose to be loyal are the ones required to prove themselves.  We have become guilty until proven innocent, and have to keep proving ourselves.


This makes me sad, both on a personal level and for society in general.  It also, however, hardens my resolve to prove the stereotype wrong.  And I will continue to stand by my man.  I will prove to him that loyalty does exist, and that he is worth being loyal to.

Depression, Medication, and Happiness

Last week my therapist (Thank you CF) did an assessment with me, and gently suggested that I talk to my doctor about medication for mild depression.  He did agree that it was likely situational, but thought it might help me in the short term.  On the assessment, I "scored" into the assessments for mild OCD and mild Anxiety Disorder, and into depression more than mildly.

I am very resistant to the idea of medication for depression.  

Its not that I don't think the meds will help. It's that the way I was raised sees it as admitting weakness, and that I should be able to just do it on my own because I am "smart enough", and I shouldn't need the meds, that it is weakness.  I should be able to "try harder" and "smarten up".  I wouldn't think that about anyone else, just about myself.  Like most of us, I am way harder on myself than I am on others.

I also admit that I am showing signs that are usually associated with clinical depression.  I have no ambition at work; and very little at home.  I don't go to the gym any more.  Once again I am very thankful for my dog, who is some days the only reason I voluntarily leave the house.  I have been eating very, very poorly.  I have been isolating myself from my friends, unless they basically force themselves on me.  My house is an absolute disaster.  Way worse than usual, for those of you that know me well ;-).  My house is usually messy; it is now absolutely chaotic, and verging on dirty.

So, what am I going to do about it?

I am going to go see the doctor; I have an appointment for next Tuesday.

I am going to continue seeing my therapist, as long as the CF continues to pay for it.

I am committing to cleaning up my kitchen first, and then my living room/bed room, spending at least 15 minutes a day cleaning and organizing.  (Thank you, Fly Lady, for once teaching me theses habits)

I am going to eat better; I will still allow myself treats, but I am going to eat 3 "real" meals a day, plus healthier snacks.  I am not going to become obsessive about this, but I am going to be better.  This will involve first cleaning my fridge, so I have room for healthy food.  Good thing I have a big composter. I will start using Fit Day again to track my progress with eating, and identify areas for improvement.



I am going to limit my caffiene (I have already started this - hello, headache).  Two or 3 diet cokes a week, and green tea in the morning only.

I will drink more water.



I am going to take all those vitamins and supplements my Doc recommended, instead of just leaving them sitting on the shelf gathering dust.  I paid for them, I might as well use them.


I am going to make a to do list of all my outstanding and imminent work commitments, and start knocking them off.  I will post the list somewhere where I see it when I am at my desk, so I can't get distracted by the issue of the moment.


I am also committing myself to getting my finances in order; through my work benefits, there is financial counseling available, and I will take advantage of that and come up with a plan to get things under control.

I will go to the gym at least once a week, and I will take the fur child for a long walk at least once a week.

You will notice that none of these resolutions have anything to do with the Wolf, or our relationship.  I am doing my damnedest to accept what happens there with Zen calm, and just take it day by day.  I am trying to realize that I can't control that, and just have to accept it for what it is.  I am going to try to not spend so much time on wishing and trying to predict the future; since that seems to lead to disappointment.

I will update my progress here from time to time, add more goals, and also comment on how this is affecting my outlook and attitude.

I thought PMS was a trip ...

I've actually never been subject to the moodiness that some people get with PMS... but pre-deployment and deployment syndrome?  Holy Hannah, ya might want to back up a step or six.

At least with PMS, usually only one partner in the relationship has it, and it only lasts for 3 or 4 days.  With (P)DS, both partners are affected, and it lasts for *months*! 


I bar tend part time at the local Royal Canadian Legion Branch.  There are 4 older members who come in every day and play enough Euchre to get them through 2 small drafts each.  They are all really, really nice, caring fellas, what I imagine a grandfather would be like (I never knew any of mine).  They all know where the Wolf is.

Last night, after the game ended, a couple of them stopped to speak to me about it on the way out.  3 left, and one was still finishing his beer.  We got talking in a bit more depth about A'stan, being alone, and drifted into the 14 Americans and 3 Helo's lost on Monday, Taliban tactics, and some of the realities I try not to dwell on.

He got choked up.  I had been having a relatively normal day up until then, but as soon as his voice started to shake, I got a little teary myself.

I am pretty good at holding it together, until someone asks if I am OK, or gets a bit emotional themselves, and then it is game over.  It is like by caring, they have given you permission to admit your emotions.

I have been better lately about not getting angry in innapropriate situations.  It has been months since I have chewed out an un-helpful waitress, or a rude store clerk.

But I think it is bubbling under the surface.  Hopefully I can keep working it out on the trail or in the gym, and not on any innocent by stander. 

Wordless Wednesday

More on Helo's

This article, in its entirely, is available at "Danger Room"

Copter Crashes Reveal Achilles’ Heel of Afghan War

By Noah Shachtman

Afghanistan is a country the size of Texas, with only a handful of major roads. So when the U.S. military wants to haul gear, supply isolated outposts, reposition forces, or evacuate wounded troops, the first, best and sometimes only option is to do so by helicopter.

...

In the 1980s, the U.S. famously supplied Afghan militants with Stinger missiles that began to threaten the Soviets’ helo fleet at risk. It drove up the cost of operating in Afghanistan, and contributed to the Red Army’s eventual defeat.

...

Even if more military helicopters are sent to Afghanistan, there’s a much bigger issue: Operating rotary aircraft in Afghanistan can be extremely difficult.

Earlier this year, Popular Mechanics reporter Joe Pappalardo spent some time with the wrench-turners who keep the helicopters flying in Afghanistan. “Afghanistan,” he concluded, “is hell on helicopters.” Here’s a list of just a few of the things he noted that can go wrong: Temperature extremes that destroy seals and gaskets; “high/hot” flying conditions that reduce engine performance; dust and sand that ruin rotor blades and clog up hydraulics. And, of course, there’s the enemy. (Soviet helicopter operations were also vulnerable, albeit for a different reason: The delivery of the Stinger missile, courtesy of the United States.)

...

Add to that a number of other factors — low-light conditions, flying under night-vision goggles, sudden dust swirls, enemy ground fire — and you’ve put one of the centerpieces of this war at even greater risk.

– Nathan Hodge and Noah Shachtman

(Photo: US Department of Defense)

CBC News - Health - The traumatic effects of extreme stress

CBC News - Health - The traumatic effects of extreme stress

CBC has posted an article on Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

If you are like me, I don't recommend reading the comments - they tend to make me angry. The article itself is a bit "light" but a start, and making the public aware, giving them something to consider, giving the issue a bit of publicity.

October 26, 2009

The Green Fields of France

Well, how do you do, young Willie McBride,
Do you mind if I sit down here by your graveside?
And rest for awhile in the warm summer sun,
I've been walking all day, and I'm nearly done.
And I see by your gravestone you were only 19
When you joined the glorious fallen in 1916,
Well, I hope you died quick and I hope you died clean
Or, Willie McBride, was it slow and obscene?

Did they Beat the drum slowly, did the play the pipes lowly?
Did the rifles fir o'er you as they lowered you down?
Did the bugles sound The Last Post in chorus?
Did the pipes play the Flowers of the Forest?

And did you leave a wife or a sweetheart behind
In some loyal heart is your memory enshrined?
And, though you died back in 1916,
To that loyal heart are you forever 19?
Or are you a stranger without even a name,
Forever enshrined behind some glass pane,
In an old photograph, torn and tattered and stained,
And fading to yellow in a brown leather frame?

The sun's shining down on these green fields of France;
The warm wind blows gently, and the red poppies dance.
The trenches have vanished long under the plow;
No gas and no barbed wire, no guns firing now.
But here in this graveyard that's still No Man's Land
The countless white crosses in mute witness stand
To man's blind indifference to his fellow man.
And a whole generation who were butchered and damned.

And I can't help but wonder, no Willie McBride,
Do all those who lie here know why they died?
Did you really believe them when they told you "The Cause?"
Did you really believe that this war would end wars?
Well the suffering, the sorrow, the glory, the shame
The killing, the dying, it was all done in vain,
For Willie McBride, it all happened again,
And again, and again, and again, and again.

© Eric Bogle

La danse du ventre

I adore the French name for Raks.  "La danse du ventre".  The dance of the stomach.  Hmmm.  Sounds a lot better in French.

Yes folks, Raks Sharqui, La Danse Du Ventre, Middle Eastern Danse, Belly Dance ... one of my passions.

I was introduced to Belly Dance (Raks) by a dear friend who is also a retired martial artist and forester.  She had a back injury at work, and her physiotherapist suggested an 8 week belly dancing course as a form of rehab.  She fell in love, and eventually talked me into trying a seminar.  The rest is a very happy history.

One of the absolute best parties I ever went to was a  Lebanese-Hungarian wedding with a Jamaican DJ - good lord I danced all night.  Dancing with a crowd of Lebanese men (maybe all Middle Eastern Cultures, I don't have experience with any others) is an amazing, empowering experience.  I do not consider myself to be a particular skilled dancer.  But the men in this crowd appreciated your spirit, your joy in movement, and were very open about their appreciation.  Not in a demeaning way, or a way that made you feel like a sex object, but in a way that made it seem like they were honestly happy that you were happy.

Hmmm ... I think that needs follow up some day down the road ... being honestly happy for someone else who is happy, without comparing yourself to them ... another relationship goal?

Back to dance ...

What else do I love about belly dance?  A friend of mine, who is 5 inches shorter than me and a few pounds heavier, recently got turned down for a troupe because she is "too skinny".  She was sad about not getting a place, but is having a perfectly lovely time telling everyone that she was "too skinny".

In my short Raks career, I have met an incredible diversity of women (and some men) who dance.  In a studio you will see a number of people who, if passing on the street, might not have even stopped to give each other the time of day.  But the shared love for the art gives people a common ground, and a common communication, which breaks down barriers based on physical appearance, culture, and attitude.

I don't mean to make the Raks community seem like a uptopia; there is as much politics and crap here as anywhere else. 

There are any number of good resources on the internet on Raks, and I am not going to duplicate them here.  If you want to know more, I encourage you to do some reading, watch some videos on you tube, and try a class at your local community centre. 

One thing I hear a lot of about Raks is it is about "celebrating woman-ness and the inner goddess".  What about the outer goddess??  Doesn't she deserve a bit of celebrating too??  ;-)

And lastly, advice, for those of you that partake: do not dance while driving.

Shimmy responsibly.

Happiness Update.

Well, I have been linked to from a spreadsheet of blogs that mention the Happiness Project, (Thanks Gretchen!) so I thought I should give y'all an update on how mine is going.

Meditation is continuing to help me sleep, and my little black footed ferret friend is continuing to hang out in my brain as a reassuring presence

I am getting more regular sleep, and I am feeling it in my day to day activities

I am trying to eat better, although that is a battle most days.  I do much better when I am feeding someone else, that when I am just feeding myself.  I also still am not drinking enough water.  I have, however, managed to cut back on caffeine, and chocolate, two things that I know affect my mood and my reaction to things.

I have not been to the gym lately, but I have been hitting the trail, and walking a lot.

I have not been back to the dance studio, but am going to a recital to watch some of my friends dance.

I am not on-line stalking the Wolf quite as much.  I am more at peace with things between the two of us.

Generally, I am more at peace.  I am basically a "happy" person, and those who know me well think I am "getting back to normal".

Red Friday

 

Never doubt you are making a difference

Wordless Wednesday

What is a veteran?

veteran [vet-er-uhn, ve-truhn] /ˈvɛtərən, ˈvɛtrən/ Show Spelled Pronunciation

–noun

1.	a person who has had long service or experience in an occupation, office, or the like: a veteran of the police force; a veteran of many sports competitions.

2.	a person who has served in a military force, esp. one who has fought in a war: a Vietnam veteran.

–adjective

3.	(of soldiers) having had service or experience in warfare: veteran troops.

4.	experienced through long service or practice; having served for a long period: a veteran member of Congress.

5.	of, pertaining to, or characteristic of veterans.

---

Origin:
1495–1505; < L veterānus mature, experienced, equiv. to veter- (s. of vetus) old + -ānus -an

Dictionary.com Unabridged
Based on the Random House Dictionary, © Random House, Inc. 2009.

RANT WARNING

I support the Royal Canadian Legion, and am a member. I support veterans. I support our troops. I wear red on Fridays to show my support. The vast majority of the people I encounter in my day to day life are good, supportive people.

I just need to get this off my chest.

Some legions, as we approach Rememberance day, are calling for volunteers to help, as the "veterans" are getting older, and cannot do as much. I say pitch in, folks! Help out, support the cause.

But maybe some legions need to step back and take a good, long, hard look at what they are really about, and what a veteran is.

This summer, when we were both "home" for the Wolf's block leave, he was talking with some folks at the local legion. He got told he "didn't count" a veteran. Veterans, to some folks, including these particular legion members, were people who had served in WW I, WW II, Korea, the Boer War, or Vietnam. Period. That's it. Closed club. Sorry about all the crap you experienced in the theaters you have been in, soldier, you are not a vet.

He was hurt by this. Very hurt. I was angry.

I can't help but think of this when I hear of Legions crying for help.

I bar tend at our local Legion, and on Fridays we are allowed to wear our red "Support Our Troops" shirts. I have a very nice red golf shirt, with a collar, that has the yellow ribbon and the SoT logo embroidered on it. Tasteful and respectful, IMHO. The older folks in the Legion don't like this, and feel we shouldn't be able to wear our red to work on Fridays. They are not shy at all about pointing it out, to our faces. Not particularly politely, may I add. I have held my tongue thus far.

Maybe, just maybe, the Legions that are crying out for want of volunteers need to take a bit of a look at themselves and the stereotypes they are holding on to. Maybe, just maybe, if they want younger folks involved, they need to stop holding themselves apart from the modern CF family, and the younger generations.

This is, I know for a fact, not true of all Legions. it is, however, true to a degree in many.

The incredible pressure of the first care package.

It looks like the Wolf will still be going on his business trip.  Even though the folks at the base hospital agree that I had legitimate concerns, they seem to feel that he is still fit for duty.  I have to trust them on that; they are the experts.

So, I am back to another stressful event: selecting and packing the first care package of this deployment.

Yes, I remember the two posts I wrote on Perfect being the Enemy of Good.  I am still stressing out over this.

I want to send him things that he will need, that he can't get over there.  I want to send him things that  will make him smile.  Most of all, I want to send him things that let him know that I still love him and support him, but don't imply that I am being needy.  I am strong enough to do this, he doesn't need to worry about me.

When he was starting his descent into the dark place, which I can now recognize better, I had mentioned casually some things that I was planning on sending (things I had already started buying, although I didn't tell him that).  He shot down *every*single*idea* that I put forth.  Looking back, I think he was just being bitter, starting the "pull away" already, but it still hurt.

So here I sit, with books, treats, t-shirts, toys, pillow cases and gag gifts spread out in front of me, wondering what to put into that first box that will make it special, make him laugh, and let him know that he is loved. 

Reminder: Free shipping of parcels to all deployed Canadian Troops using a "Station Forces" address, and to any deployed Canadian Ship, is in effect from October 26 2009 until January 15 2010, subject to normal size limits and all other rules.  Letter mail up to 500 grams is, always has been, and will continue to be free until at least December 31 2010.

Christmas parcels should be sent by mid November at the latest to ensure delivery by Christmas.

Meditation and Messages

When I lay down to sleep at night I put on a mediation CD.  I have had insomnia for many, many years, and I find that if I use a meditation CD it helps me stay asleep once I fall asleep.  The one I have been using most often lately is a meditation by Sylvia Browne on Contacting your Spirit Guides, or Guardian Angels.

As an aside, saying the rosary also generally puts me straight to sleep, but that makes me feel mildly guilty.  A priest once told me it was OK, that if I fall asleep saying the rosary my Guardian Angel finishes it for me.  I think they must get tired of having to finish it for me every time, though.

Back to last night.  In this particular meditation, (greatly simplified) after you are centered, grounded, and white lighted, you visualize walking through a meadow (which for me always smells like salt water, is bounded by hemlock trees, and implies "Cypress"?), until you come to a gazebo in the meadow, and then one of your spirit guides comes out of the gazebo to talk to you.  Usually the spirit guide I get is this rather dashing, very huggy Greek fellow named David.  Occasionally it is a very short, stocky, shy woman whose hair is always in front of her face, very "cousin It".  I have yet to catch her name.

Last night it was the Wolf.  He came out from the gazebo, wrapped me up in his arms, put his forehead down on top of my head, started to cry, and said he was sorry.  The feeling I got was that he was sorry he was so confused, sorry that he was hurting me, and that he really does still love me, he just doesn't know how to deal with it.  I was startled, but I tried, in my meditative state, to send him back all the feelings of love, understanding, patience and support that I have in me.

I am aware that his may be my sub conscious projecting "wishful thinking", triggered by the good conversation the Wolf and I had last night.  It might also be the PTB (Powers That Be) giving me a hug.  It might be an actual vision or message from my Spirit Guides.  Whatever it is, I am going to take comfort in it, and choose happy.

Relationships

Soundtrack for this post: Holding Out For A Hero, Jennifer Saunders, Shrek II Soundtrack

True love is what comes to you when you stop believing in happily ever after, and knights in shining armour.

I don't remember where I read this, but I think it is very, very true.

I think a lot of relationships would be happier if we realized much younger that happy ever after is a "big picture" view, not a moment-by moment guarantee. The world does not owe us eternal sunshine, nor would that be good for our characters.

In my humble view, and from the viewpoint of experience, what makes a good relationship? (In no particular order)

1. Reciprocity. Now, by reciprocity, I certainly don't mean keeping score and making sure every little thing comes out even. But there does need to be some give and take. Everyone has different strengths and weaknesses, and everyone will find their own balance. Hopefully you and your partner balance each other, and can find a compromise on things.
   
2. Respect.  You have to know that your partner respects you, as a person, and the choices you make with your life, and you have to let them know that you respect them.  Do not assume the other person knows this.  Men, specifically, often need reassurance that we respect them.
   
3. Communication.  Your partner can't read your mind any more that you can read theirs.  Don't expect them to know what you want, how you feel, or why you are upset.
   
4. Honesty. 
   
5. Love. And no, I don't think I can define it in words. I also don't think what love is to me is the same as what love is to anyone else. Not even the Wolf. I think we all have our own definition of Love, and if our version is being met, then that is for us to determine, not any outside forces. Nor is it for me to tell you what love means to you.
   
6. Presence. Not physical presence, but mental presence. When you are with someone, be WITH them, 100%. When the Wolf and I are apart, it is important to me to know that I occur to him occasionally. And I let him know I think of him.
7. Laughter.  Fun. Enjoyment.  These are the things that help build your foundation, and balance the not-so-good days
8. Commitment.  Even if you haven't said "for better or worse" in front of an officiant, you need to know what "worse" is, and commit to staying until that point. (This is in no way meant to condone staying in an abusive or otherwise unhealthy relationship.  There is a difference between "worse" and "unacceptable".)

Feel free to add your own.

When normal is weird ...

First off, I know most coloured ribbons have multiple meanings; but I learned today that the awareness ribbon for PTSD is generally considered to be teal. So my blog is now sporting a teal ribbon, in honour of all those who still carry their battles with them, and the people who love them.

I had a 2 hour MSN conversation and a few on-line scrabble games with the Wolf tonight, and it was so normal it felt surreal. And now I am asking myself a million questions - did the last few months really happen? Did I imagine it all, and over-react? Why can't I just be happy, why am I second guessing this? Did he find out I made the call, and now he is trying to win me over to convince me to recant? Is he "better"? Did he "come to his senses" finally?

I feel like such a bitch that I can't just take this at face value and be happy about it.

He says he is just winding down right now, spending his last few days getting organized before he heads over to the base he will deploy from. He was going out to dinner tonight with some friends who wanted to see him one last time before he goes. (really trying not te be petty about that, since I didn't get my "one last time before you go" visit)

We shot the shit. We joked. We laughed. We talked about nothing, about the weather, about another on-line game we both play, about people and places and stuff. Plain old every day stuff.

I miss normal. I miss every day stuff.

I miss my Wolf.

But it still seems surreal. And I am soooo waiting for the other shoe to drop.

The Aftermath of War

The Aftermath of War

By Chris Woolnough

We found a wounded veteran,
And held him in our hearts.
We've seen the bravest soldier,
Break down and fall apart.
Yet we love our heroes,
Like no other has before.
We're the wives of combat veterans,
In the Aftermath of War.

We had to learn the hard way,
When coping with PTSD,
That their war is never over,
And freedom is never free.
We bandage up their broken hearts,
The best we can each day.
We see the scars upon their souls,
That never go away.
Knowing we can't heal the wounds,
That cut their very core.
We're just trudging through the trenches,
In the Aftermath of War.

We've seen them lose their faith in God,
And in the human race,
As they try to hide the anguish,
That's still written on their face.
We've witnessed all the symptoms,
That they're not willing to admit.
We've dodged the screaming bullets,
And been crawling in the Sh*t.
We've felt the anger,
guilt and blame,
Of these men that we adore.
As we stumble on the battlefield,
In the Aftermath of War.

Each day we share the horrors,
Of a pain they can't forget,
And we feel we lived through combat,
Because we love a vet.
But we are all survivors,
And we're learning how to cope.
Hanging on with all our might,
Just holding onto hope.
And our soldier's heart will cry out,
That they couldn't love us more.
Because we're sitting in their foxhole,
In the Aftermath of War.

Quotes

"My stars shine darkly over me; the malignancy of my fate might, perhaps, distemper yours; therefore I shall crave of you your leave that I may bear my evils alone. It were a bad recompense for your love to lay any of them on you."

Sebastian, Twelfth Night, William Shakespeare

"Long is the way, and hard, that out of Hell leads up to light"

Paradise Lost, John Milton

We'll fall from grace, Forget we can fly, But through all the tears that we cried, We'll survive
Cause when we're torn apart, Shattered and scarred, Love has the grace to save us
We're just two tarnished hearts, When in each other's arms, We become saints and angels.
I love your imperfections, I love your everything, Your broken heart, your broken wings

Saints and Angels, Sara Evans

Red Fridays - think of the Famlies

The Invisible Ribbon Campaign

Supporting Military Families

Strong Enough

I wrote this a little while ago.  I e-mailed it to the Wolf in the wee hours this morning.

Strong Enough

You worry about my being alone so much, I think, and worry if I am strong enough to take you being away. 

I want to reassure you that I am strong enough.

I am strong enough to look after myself, and strong enough to admit that I need you in my life.

I am strong enough to be alone, and strong enough to admit that I am lonely … and strong enough to wait for your return.

I am strong enough to admit that while I want you in my life, I will survive without you.

I am strong enough to admit that I miss you, yet go on living, and making plans, and doing things, and growing as a person.

I am strong enough to go to a friend’s anniversary party and help them celebrate their togetherness, while acknowledging that I miss having you at my side.

I am strong enough to keep you in my heart, and know that this is the right thing to do.

I am strong enough to weep in the shower, and then get out, get dried off, and get on with life.

I am strong enough to admit I love you.  And strong enough to know that adds to my strength, it does not take away from it.

 

Double Ended Candles

I am burning the candle at both ends this week; busy with personal and business commitments.  So, of course, also fighting a cold, and dealing with the whole Wolf situation. 

I spoke at some length with a social worker at the base hospital yesterday.  While, due to confidentiality reasons, he couldn't confirm or deny anything, of course, I could tell from a couple of the questions that he asked, that he had the Wolf's file in front of him.

His standard answer was "you definitely have some legitimate concerns".  They can't, again due to confidentiality, tell me what sort of follow up they will be taking, or even if they will be re-screening him prior to his scheduled d-date.  Unless he gives them permission to discuss it with me, and I expect my chance to make snow angels in hell will come first.

I have also decided that for the next while I am going to start all conversations with "No, I don't feel he is an immediate danger to himself, nor do I feel he is a danger to me, but thanks for asking."

So I wait, and continue to see my own therapist (or counselor or whatever the right name is).  


And take my Cold FX and my garlic and my pomegranite juice :-).  Here's hoping they can make up for serious lack of sleep.

Push ups and ferrets

The night I made the phone call to start the re-assessment ball rolling, I had a strange little dream.  In my dream, I was doing push ups.  Now, through my martial arts career, I have done quite a few push ups, and am quite familiar with proper form and technique, and variations.  Yet in my dream, no matter what I did, and how well I thought I was doing, there was a voice telling me that I wasn't doing it right, wasn't good enough, and had to do better, that all my effort wasn't counting.
In the dream, once I started to get really frustrated, and felt like giving up, there was a black footed ferret who came and just snuggled into my side in a very reassuring manner, telling me everything was going to be OK.  He was a quite content, happy, and over all comforting little friend.
So of course, when I had the chance, I got on the internet and googled the symbolism of ferrets.  I found the best explanation over at ShamanicJourney.com .  A few excerpts for you:

Ferret, Power Animal, Symbol of Keen Observation

By Ina Woolcott

Ferrets are members of the weasel family. Their medicine includes stealth, cunning, skillful hunters, cleverness, ingenuity, revenge, keen observation, ability to see hidden reasons behind things.

... Brainy and cunning the ferret shows us how to use our creativeness to build a safe haven for ourselves, and to stock up with things that may be needed - always be ready for any situation that may come into existence. The ferret is a good, helping ally to have around in hard time.

...When ferrets become scared or excited, their tail goes all bushy and they let out a musty scent, which assists in getting rid of some predators - however they do not feel safe until hidden deep inside their tunnel. For humans this represents the need for a securer life. If this is your power animal then you will need a special place where you can rejuvenate and also to contemplate.

Ferrets are extremely nimble and quick, teaching us how to manoeuvre super quick so as not be in danger.

If this is your power animal do you need to move with more speed in some area(s) of your life? Are you wearing blinkers due to inflexible thought patterns that don’t let you see the bigger picture? Do you have a secluded, secure place for yourself? Do you get in your own way with your power of observation?

The ferret is a powerful totem, and can aid you to uncover a hidden part of yourself, deep beneath the surface are the answers to life's mysteries. If you are finding it hard to comprehend something in your life, meditate on the ferret and listen to and follow what you are told if you so wish.

I am not going to second guess where this came from, try to analyze it too much, or joke it away.  Wherever it came from, the ferret in my dream has brought me a message, a perspective, and a path.  I will try to honour that, find comfort in it, and keep my new friend around for a while.
**************
Do ferrets hibernate?  Maybe we could nap, and wake up when this is all better ... 

 

Mourning

So I made the phone call yesterday, the phone call to alert the proper folks to everything that had been going on in the Wolf's life lately, and to hopefully start the process to have him re-screened.  The person I spoke with on the phone was great; made sure I did not feel I was in any danger (I have been getting asked that a lot lately), made sure I didn't feel the Wolf was a danger to himself,  and then started the process rolling to get the re-assessment done.  The individual on the phone agreed that the Wolf should definitely not be DAG'd green at this point.

The person on the other end of the phone line also spent a lot of time trying to convince me not to beat myself up over leaving it this long to call.  There have been a number of other things that have happened over the last few months that should have been warning signs, things that I have not written about here.  I should have made this call 2 months ago.

I drove 2 hours home from my parent's place today. I have always loved driving, I do some of my best thinking while driving.  I have processed a lot in the last 24 hours.

I am not sure why I left it so long to make this call.  Part of it was denial - I didn't want to believe it was really as bad as it was.  Some of the comments the Wolf had made, I convinced myself he had been making in jest.   The same comments that I didn't really admit out loud to anyone until yesterday.

I also think part of it is I know the man he was, the man that I still believe is buried under there somewhere.  The man that would only be joking if he said the things he said.  The man that would recognize that he is in over his head and ask for help.  That he would be strong enough to do what needed to be done, so I didn't have to.

Part of me just feels that I am weak; that I wasn't strong enough or good enough; and I have failed him, and myself, by my inaction.


I spent a good part of this morning's drive back in tears.  Of course, I analyzed my tears.  They are not tears of regret; neither regret for doing what I did, nor regret for waiting so long - I feel bad about that, but not to the point of wasting tears.  I did what I did, based on my mind and instincts at the time, and it cannot be undone.

No, I was crying tears of mourning.  Mourning for the man I knew, who if he is still there, is buried down so deep I don't know if he can come back.  Part of me is desperately afraid that my dear friend, the man I loved, my Wolf has died; that he will never come back.

Resolutions

I spent last night with a good friend; someone who also went to high school with the Wolf and I.

While she is going through a lot of stress in her own life right now, which is not my story to tell, she listened to everything I had experienced in the last few weeks, the most recent crisis.

She held me while I cried, while I mourned, and then looked at me and simply said "You know what you have to do. You don't need me to tell you, but I will. You need to make the call. For your own peace as much as for him."

She's right.

One of my other dear friends, a PTSD survivor, asked me what was more important - my relationship with the Wolf, or his life. I know that if I call OSIS that he will likely figure out it was me, and will hate me for it.

But I would rather have him hate me, and be alive, than let me be his "friend" right up to the point he goes over the edge, and hurts himself, or someone else.

So in a few minutes I will be making a call I knew all along I had to, but had been putting off. My life will change, again.

My only hope is that it is not in vain; that they take me seriously, and the Wolf gets what he needs.

Thanksgiving

Today I am thankful for

• good friends; the love and support they give; the distractions they provide; and just knowing they are there
• family; for all the trials and tribulations and stress they cause, they are not evil, and not as bad as some; they help and provide some support in their owns ways, each as they are able
• my health; again, while I sometimes feel sorry for myself, I am not in as bad a shape as many
• my job, my employer, and my co-workers
• my little apartment; big enough, cozy, warm, and safe
• my brain, even though it sometimes gets me into trouble ;-)
• my heart, even though it often gets me into trouble! ;-)
• My connection to nature, and the divine power of the universe, that soothes my soul and my spirit, guides me, and never gives me more than I can handle, even though it sometimes feels that way.
• The beautiful individuals who have been sent into my life to guide me, be they with me for a moment, a month, a year, or a lifetime

I am thankful

Red Friday

 

Love is a decision ...

Ree, over at Pioneer Woman Cooks ,said in a recent post "Love is a decision". She was joking about something, but I think she is bang on.

Initial attraction to someone sometimes takes us out of the blue, and the first few days/weeks/months can seem like you are just being swept along by an invisible force.

But then a challenge comes; something which tests the relationship, and your commitment to love. And you consciously, or unconsciously, decide to stay in the relationship, or not. To stay in love, or not.

Its like deciding to be happy, or not. I have actually been criticized for being a "happy person"; been challenged that I have "obviously never had anything bad happen to {me}". Without getting in to the list, let me tell you, nothing could be farther from the truth.

I believe that when we are faced with "bad things", we choose how we react in the long term.

I could choose to be bitter about the things that have happened in my life, or fearful. I could choose to live my life waiting for the next bad thing, and expecting people to mis-treat me, and expecting and looknig for the misery.

Instead, I choose to be reminded how prescious the good moments are, and sieze the happiness when I find it, and relish it, and burn it into my memory. Sure I have sad days, and when the bad things happen I go through a similar process to anyone else. But on the "average" days, I choose to be happy. 

And on the challenging days, I choose to stay in love.

Wolf Training

Soundtrack for this post:  The Tower, Vienna Teng

I had my first appointment today with the counselor provided by the Canadian Forces, to talk about the issue with the Wolf.  He was talking a fair bit about "Fight or Flight" responses.

He feel that the Wolf is in full "Flight" mode.  I, however, am at about 90% Fight and 10% Flight, in the counselor's estimation.  He thinks this is a good thing.

Counselor dude, hereafter refered to as CD, thinks the wolf is running away from his emotions, and how strongly he feels, because he doesn't want to deal with them.  

Me, being stubborn, determined, and used to getting my own way, am still trying to work things out, wait things out, and figure things out.

We also talked about the concept of "Pre Deployment Separation Anxiety".  I mentioned, jokingly, that the only "seperation anxiety" I was used to dealing with was in regards to dogs.  What am I supposed to do, send the Wolf a milk bone to reassure him, and keep him busy?


CD says I should send the Wolf a shirt that smells like me, to give him some comfort.  I laughed.  He said, no, I am actually serious.  Wear a t-shirt for a couple of days, then seal it up in a ziplock so it still smells like you, and send it to him.  The same theory holds - sub-consciously, it will remind the Wolf of me, and trigger "safe" memories.



I'm thinking about it.  CD also recommended a couple of books we should both read; if I do the shirt thing, I will wrap it around one of the books, and send it as a package.


For those of you that are interested, the two books are : 


Hold me Tight: Seven Conversations for a Lifetime of Love, by Dr Sue Johnson


and


The Seven Principles For Making Marriage Work, by John Gottman


The Wolf and I did talk on Tuesday night; I challenged him, among other things, to go talk to either the OSIS folks or the Padre, and tell them everything that has happened over the last 4 or 5 months, and see if they agree that the way he is handling it is appropriate.  I will not write his response here verbatim; let's just say he declined. 



I also told him that I had been chatting with a good friend, another soldier, another vetran, another "lifer" and a PTSD survivor, although he almost wasn't.  My friend tried to take his own life a few years ago after returning from the sandbox; thankfully he was discovered, his life was saved, and he got the treatment he required.  He now has his head screwed on straighter than most people I know, and he has been my saviour as I work though this.



When I relayed this to the Wolf, and said my friend was recognizing a lot of his own behaviour in the way the Wolf is now acting, his response was "I didn't need to worry about him trying to kill himself".  Not that "I don't have PTSD".  Just that I don't have to worry about him trying to kill himself.


Food for thought.

Wordless Wednesday

Loose Lips Sink Ships

This post has been mulling around in my head for quite some time. But recently there was a ... statement made on the MilSpouse forum I belong to which has prompted me to write.
I want to start off by saying that the feelings I am expressing, like always, are entirely my own, and what it right for me, and are not intended to be a criticism or condemnation of anyone else, or choices they may have made.

If you are a regular here, you will notice that the countdown clock is gone, and the time clocks have had their labels modified.

I sometimes think that being around the Wolf, and part of this lifestyle, has made me completely paranoid. I am so used to referring to him in "code" - DF - or by his initial, or as "the Wolf" in any on-line forum, and not posting anything at all to his FaceBook page, that sometimes I can't have "normal" conversations with people, even people that have know us both since high school.

I will never put pictures of myself on this blog, or pictures of him, or any children in our lives. I will never use his real name, or my own. It is just not something I am comfortable with. It is not that I am "uptight", and concerned with DND regulations on the subject. I am, however, very aware of how easy it is to mine information if you are determined, and I would never want to be the one who was part of the chain that led to information that put anything or anyone in danger.

I have a really good slide deck somewhere that illustrates how easy it is to take small pieces of information from unrealated sites, and piece them together into something that is useable - If I can find it, I will come back and post it.

The issue on the on-line forum I go to had to do with someone posting their loved one's actual departure date from the country. I completely understand the urge to do it; you don't think you are hurting anything; you know you are talking to people who understand, and you need to share your pain, you emotions. I have done it myself; likely on the forum, and I had the coutdown clock here.

I also know, from watching the forum list of who is on-line, that there is someone who's screen name is "Mr Bitter" who never posts, just "lurks" and reads. Now I assume Mr Bitter is, honestly, just someone who is, well, bitter. But what if Mr Bitter is Bitter enough that s/he would actually take info, figure out something from it, and do "something bad"?
Better safe than sorry. So I will remain the Crow, or Basinah to you all, my wonderful friends. My heart will continue to jump a little when I see pictures of your children on your blogs. Even you, my wonderful civilian friends.

My father was a police officer; he once said to me that if someone is determined to do something bad they will find a way.

But it doesn't mean I have to be part of making it easy for them.

Consider Me Gone

I just watched the video for Reba McEntire's "Consider Me Gone".

Watch video here: http://www.reba.com/home.htm (but go down first and turn off the radio player, before you hit "play" on the video) 

Listening to this song the first few times, on the radio, my impression was that the lyrics basically were saying "I'm out of here, there's no hope".  After watching the video, I am left more with the impression of "Consider (what your life would be like with) me gone", and make your decision if that is what you want or not.  So, really, really think about it, and decide if this is what you truly want.  Consider this.


The song isn't nearly so depressing if you think of it in those terms.  
I am not ready to give up on the Wolf.  But I think it may be time to make him face the reality of loosing me.  He says he can't handle a relationship "right now".  He needs to wake up and think about if he is really willing to give up on "ever".
I have no intention of leaving, of giving up, of turning my back.  But I also don't want to give him the idea I will only be here when it is convenient for him, that he can get away with shutting me out when it doesn't suit him.

He needs to consider me gone, and maybe, just maybe, he will shape the fuck up.  Like the guy in the video.
I don't want to sound egotistical, but I don't want it to be too late when he realizes what he would be giving up if he continues to shut me out.  I don't want him to regret what he has done, when he comes to his senses.  I want him to come to his senses before it is too late.
I think it is time to push some more buttons.
Stay tuned for further updates.

Cool ...

A map from StatCounter of people who have read my blog this week: 

Finger Splints

OK, here's another thing that has made my life a whole lot easier: digisplints ( www.digisplint.ca ).

These funky looking finger splints have made a huge difference in my life, and I highly recommend them to anyone who has arthritis pin in their hands.  Most of my pain was back in the body of my hand, and I don't understand it, but wearing these splints has greatly reduced my day-to-day pain.

I regularly get asked about my "cool rings" and where I got them.  I laugh, thank them, and try to educate people a little bit about what they actually are.  I like to think that I have helped a few other people find some relief; I have certainly given out the web site and contact info often enough!  The splints are made out of silver because it is strong enough to hold the fingers in place, but can be re-shaped (due to finger swelling) easily, and without causing metal fatigue.


A little background on me.  I have Osteo-arthritis (OA), Rheumatoid Arthritis (RA), Fibromyalgia (Fibro), and I am hyper-mobile (possibly Ehlers-Danlos Disease (ED), never had the testing).  I have had RA and Fibro since I was about 8 years old.



I currently have 3 silver splints, and an Rx for 2 more.  I will likely end up with them on all 8 finger proximal joints and the two thumb distal joints, and possibly a few on the finger distal joints (the smaller ones out near the ends of your fingers) as well.  They do help immensely with the pain; they help slow down the deformation of my fingers over time, although I have noticed that my stubborn fingers are 1) rotating axially instead and 2) actually deforming the brace, since they really, really want to go off sideways.  (Imagine stacking all your fingers up like a bird beak for a shadow puppet - that's what my fingers want to do on their own).



My choice in dealing with what I have been handed is to continue to live my life and do the things I want.  I trained martial arts for many years, and have recently decided to "come out of retirement" for that.  I also am a forester by training, and still operate a chain saw a few times a year.

Aside: Last time I spent the day bucking brush (using a chain saw) one of my splints was broken at the end of the day.  So I sent it back to Derrick at Digisplint to be repaired.  He did ask how I managed to break it, and I told him what I had been up to.  Turns out I am his only customer with OA/RA that spends all day on a chain saw.  Who knew?  


Live life to the fullest.  You never know what tomorrow may bring.

Obama's War - The First Act

Rough Cut of PBS special to be aired Oct 13/09

WARNING: These videos contain graphic language and scenes of violence.  But nothing compared to the real thing.

In Love ...

I admit it.  I am a foodie.  Unfortunately, I am a foodie with serious dietary issues.

Which is one of the reasons I Love, Love, Love, LOVE the Patsy Pie line of cookies, biscotti, muffins and brownies.  ( www.patsypie.com )

Pat is a celiac herself, and her two daughters also have food issues.  Based in Quebec, Canada, the products are not only gluten free, but free of many other common allergens as well.  It is not often that my gluten-nightshade-lactose body and my neighbour's soy-lactose body can agree on cookies, but yummmm!!

There is a recipe section on the web-site as well.

Any celiac will tell you that the vast majority of gluten free products are also taste and texture free.  Nummy.  But these product taste just like "the real thing".  So I had to share with you all.  If you need allergen free treats, ask your local organic market or health food store to stock these products.


I really wish she made bread ...

PTSD

Come on, what kind of Mil Spouse blog would this be without a post on Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD)? Seriously!

For info on PTSD, start here, then google to your heart's content, reading everything with a grain of salt.


I have two people in my "real" life with diagnosed PTSD (one civi, one military), and then there is the Wolf and his issues, which "everyone" thinks are PTSD/OSI. (OSI - Operational Stress Injury). I also have a number of bloggy/virtual friends who are caring for partners or family with PTSD.


Both of my "diagnosed" friends have or are receiving treatment for thier PTSD, and both have been absolutely invaluable to me as we work through this. ♥

PTSD is a difficult thing for families and friends. You need to be supportive and understanding without sacrificing your own mental and physical health, sense of self worth, etc.

The below is from the MayoClinic.com article referenced above:

When someone you love has PTSD
Post-traumatic stress disorder can significantly strain the emotional and mental health of the affected person's caregivers and loved ones. In fact, the term "compassion fatigue" was coined to describe the feelings, such as depression and helplessness, that commonly develop in those close to a person with PTSD.

Hearing about the trauma that led to your loved one's PTSD may be extremely painful for you, and may cause you to relive difficult events in your own life. The person you love may seem like a different person than you knew before the trauma — angry and irritable, for example, or withdrawn and depressed.

If someone you love has PTSD, you may find yourself avoiding his or her attempts to talk about the trauma, or feeling hopeless that your loved one's symptoms will improve. At the same time, you may feel guilty that you can't fix your loved one or hurry up his or her process of healing.

In order to take care of yourself and your loved one, it's critical that you make your own mental health a priority. Eat right, exercise, and rest. Continue to take time alone or with friends, doing activities that help you recharge. If you continue to have difficulty coping, talk with your doctor. He or she may refer you to a therapist who can help you work through your emotions.

A good blog (Canadian!) about Compassion Fatigue can be found here. Of course, if you are like me, it isn't so much a matter of knowing that you should take care of yourself, or even knowing how to take care of yourself, its a matter of actually doing it.

I get it on multiple fronts. I obviously care about the Wolf, and what he is going through right now, and want to do everything I can to support him. I am also involved in my local MFRC (Military Family Resource Center), and give some time, and emotional energy, there. I have a dear neighbour, T, who is going through some things, and of course I care about and am there for her. I have another friend, civi, with PTSD from a traumatic family accident a couple of years ago, who is in the healing process, and has good and bad days. My professional life is also pulled in many directions with projects about "caring and helping".

I am burnt out. I don't have a passion for my job any more, and I am a bit numbed to the hurt of the issue with the Wolf. I don't know if I am accepting it to work itself out because I have faith and peace that it will be OK, or because I am too burnt out to care any more.

And I don't know how to make the time to actually care for myself.

Loose Women ...

So when I first saw this poster, I thought it was about something completely different.

I thought it was more along the lines of the "loose lips sink ships" propoganda posters.

Don't shoot your mouth off, kind thing.

Oops.