Love, Hate, And A Need For Normal

I've been pretty spoiled these past two weeks. My husband took some leave so he could have some time with me for our anniversary and his birthday, recuperation time, and a break from going in to work just to sit around for hours because there's nothing he can physically do. That's a lot to ask when you're on five different medications that barely put a dent in the constant pain affecting you. 

Giving him his military issue haircut last night woke me up to having to return to normal. Cutting his hair is something we have to do every other weekend so he looks sharp for work the following Monday, and we haven't had to do it since he hasn't been working.

It meant going back to waking up alone, trying to keep myself occupied with cleaning and whatnot as he's in and out for appointments or lunch, dealing with the constant frustration from both of us that will recycle itself until he's out of the army (which may not stop even then because of his physical limitations), and finally going to bed and preparing myself to do it all again the next day.

(People who know that as my daily schedule flippantly say, "Well, just get a part-time job". To that I reply, not only can we not leave our dog home alone without a meltdown from him yet, I don't know how much longer we will be here, and I don't want to start something I might have to leave in a few months. I'd rather try to occupy myself at home than add to our stress by looking for a job right now.)

As long as my husband is in the army, he is never fully mine. He has to answer to whatever schedule his higher ups (and ultimately, the government) give him (within the limitations of his injury) and I will always come second. That went into effect the moment he signed that dotted line and will continue until his contract is up or he is medically discharged. I've accepted that, but it doesn't mean I enjoy it.

Even once he's out, one or both of us will be working and I won't have him for much more time than I normally do. But when it comes to being in the army, there's a total sense of restriction. Your man is not his own person, nor is he yours. You aren't even yours, as long as you are married to him and he is in the military. He doesn't have the freedom to "just quit"-- to get out, your contract must be up, you must be medically discharged, or you must badly misbehave and be dishonorably discharged. 

It isn't like any other job. My husband can be called to come in at any time, whether it be 7pm or 2am, and be kept for hours or days until released to go home, They can do that, and it's happened. A person could be "smoked" (forced to do push-ups until told to stop, even to the point of complete exhaustion) by a superior at whim or for screwing up. Things are even getting to the point that the military may start kicking people out for having visible tattoos or giving spouses with body piercings or tattoos a hard time (the service member isn't allowed body piercings other than their ears as it is, but the rumors say the spouses are going to be cracked down on as well).

There are great benefits, but with the condition my husband is in and the direction the army is taking, the cons outweigh the pros and we'd actually rather he became a civilian again as soon as possible. It may just be that he has had some douchy superiors and has been handed the short end of the stick most of the time, but he's had enough and I've had enough. It hasn't been the best experience for both of us, gunshot or no gunshot. He did his part, he's got the stories, and we just want to get some semblance of 'normality' back into our life, whatever that may be.

I for one, just want to see him get better (unlikely as it may be for him to fully recover) and be able to have some kind of control over our lives again.

I will leave you with this thought: in my quiet times with God, I have been led to see that one of the reasons I was 'the one' for my husband is that no one else would have been able to be as strong for him through all of this. I have been through a lot of storms and personally difficult times, but have made it through and put it behind me. I don't live in the past, I don't bring my storms back up. I've already gone through those fires and can draw strength from those times. I've allowed God to mold my character and my heart, to test me, break me down, and mold me again. He has helped me deal with my crap and get my life in order.

I don't say all this to be prideful, but I believe with all my heart that I am here because I don't have to juggle my own insecurities and shortcomings with all the crap that has hit the fan. I am secure in myself, I know who I am, and can therefore reach ahead to deal with whatever comes as a whole person. It doesn't mean I have zero insecurities or that I won't face any more personal storms, but the insecurities have been put in their place and are not allowed to influence my life. As far as the storms go, I will press through them as they come, knowing that God never gives me more than I can handle.