Hooray!

I know that it is just a publicity stunt...but it still makes me smile. She and her code pink cronies have made a mockery of the anti-war movement.

Cindy Sheehan quits the anti-war movement.

Best horoscope ever for a slow day at work

Unnecessary distraction or totally necessary diversion? It's your call.
Sometimes you need to give yourself a break in order to get back on the horse.
Other times you need to keep plugging on. Which is it this time?

Emo Culture?

I don't normally report on local news (partly because the strange things that make news in Utah and just too weird to get into) but tonight on Channel 4 they had this god-awful piece on "Emo Culture". Now the website article seems really tame and in fact has a wonderful quote about emo culture for parents:

“Not every child who looks emo may be in to cutting themselves, dark poetry or talk of suicide,” says psychologist Judith Zimmerman. “Some of these kids may just be in a phase. It’s important to tell the difference between a fashion statement and a commitment to a lifestyle. Parents need to understand the deeper meanings of why their child might be drawn to emo culture.”

But did the news broadcast mention this? No! What they did was show a bunch of MySpace photos of kids with eyeliners and black hair, played music from the Used, and talked about how all "emo" children were cutting themselves and on the verge of suicide. (Of course, people who 'cut' themselves aren't suicidal anyway as they feel like the pain makes them alive---but that is beyond the point.) In any case, the news report drove me to write an angry letter to the reporter who compiled the story.

Mr. Cowan,
Your piece on the "emo culture" shows a serious lack of investigation which attempts to draw upon uninformed hysteria of parents for ratings. Not every teenager who wears black and listens to bands like "My Chemical Romance" or "The Used" are "emo, yet you portray that they are. You also portray the "emo culture" as a homogeneous group when there are many many subdivisions such as goths, scene kids, sadists, ICP kids and punks, just to name a few. In fact, if you actually had spent some quality time with teenagers (as I have a range of children from 15-18 that regularly come and hang out at my home) you would know that the term "emo" is actually an insult. No one aspires to be "emo" and those that admit that their are are doing it for attention. Cutting is not something that affects just "emo" kids, but a pervasive problem that affects all social classes and age groups. "Gender-bending" is also not something that is an "emo" trait and to classify it as such is to degrade the youth of Salt Lake who are actively trying to find out who they are. Classifying "emo culture" as an entire set of individuals who are gender-bending, black clothed and suicidal is like categorizing glam rock culture as transvestite cocaine addicts. Your report will create more misunderstanding between parents and their children, especially in light of your portrayal of "emo culture" as akin to a contagious disease.
Perhaps instead of trying to create paranoia amongst parents, why don't you give your viewers more constructive advice like how to talk to their children instead of ignoring them---it will save on the therapy bills.

I can't tell if this wants me to just hate Utah or the media more.

Living Traditions and Project 337

Ventured out today to the Living Traditions Festival. The food is always so good year after year that we (well I decided actually) decided that we would do two meals there, rather than just one. So Jimmy (my brother/surrogate date) went with me. It was a nice day and I don't appear to be burned to a crisp. We tried a bit of everything foodwise: Thai, Pakistani, Hawaiian, Phillipeno...and something else but I can't see to remember. I also made sure to check the performance schedule ahead of time so that we could plan on attending certain things. The first two Middle Eastern music performances were ok...but the Turkish one (done by the UofU Turkish students) was fantastic. And the Cambodian dancers were lots of fun....pretty costumes...I like sparklily things.

The other thing that we went to was an art exhibit called Project 337. Basically there is a building that they are going to tear down to make way for a new housing development. But before they do that they invited artists in from the Salt Lake Valley to use the building as a canvas. It is a fantastic idea and I hope that this is something that continues. Jimmy has some stencils that he has in it and he is kicking himself that he didn't act on participating in the project sooner. Of course, me and my trusty new camera took a god-awful amount of photos (150+)...so please take a look thorough them. I didn't photograph every inch of the building, but it looks like I did.

And since I had to upgrade my Flickr account....there will be alot more photos of random things posted...because I have to make sure that I get my money's worth.

Saturday Calm

The google ad things on my site make me giggle: anger management, depression, divorce counseling, etc. etc. etc. It really makes me sound like I am an absolute nutcase. Which apparently is what I have turned into.

I have been in a haze the past couple of days since my freakout. In many respects the aftermath is calming because nothing seems to affect me. You don't feel. You just mechanically go through your day, but you are disconnected and calm. There, but not. And for once I don't seem to mind that I haven't heard from Mr.3 in a couple of days.

I suspect this is what Mr.3 feels like. And partly...it is wonderful....this calmness, the not having to feel anything, being so disconnected from your mind and your worries. The other part of me hates every moment of it. I stumble around, I can't connect to those around me...I can't be myself, speak or act or even think like I normally do. My memory is shot. I can't keep my thoughts together even in conversation...and if we pause in conversation for more than a few seconds I can't remember what we were talking about anyway.

Last night I just gave into this calmness....I stopped trying to keep myself focused. I think it resulted in alot of me staring at the TV but not really paying attention. I found myself staring at the tapestry on my wall today. The fan was making it move slightly and if you unfocused your eyes you could pretend that the birds on it were really moving. The calmness does give you a heightened sense of attention on the oddest things....inanimate objects mostly. I continued giving in today. I have been playing mindless computer games this morning and afternoon. I started to listen to my ipod and was getting really wrapped up in the music.

And then the music made me feel.

A song would remind me of being in Turkey and feeling beautiful and carefree and the future wide open in front of me. And then another song would come on, and I would remember Mr.3 and I would be overcome with love and sadness. I have been sitting here crying silently as I come out of this fog.

Feeling again is difficult...and at the moment I really think that I would like to be numb again. Then I wouldn't feel ugly and fat and utterly abandoned.

I keep telling myself that I should just sit down and write...write it all out and hopefully it will make me feel better. I can't bring myself to do it. I just sit and stare at the screen, thinking of all the things that I could say but categorically unwilling to move my fingers across the keyboard.

What do I do if he never comes back home?

Emotionally Numb?

Today is a strangely peaceful day. I have no deadlines. Nothing must be done today. I can just work...and work on anything that I choose.

Why can't everyday feel like this? So easy and carefree?

For All of Those Who Thought I Was Strong---I'm Not

I have found my breaking point....and if you were one the few people who actually saw me breakdown I am sure that you will be haunted by it for quite some time.

I heard back from my teacher on my course design grade. Basically---there is no way that she will even entertain the thought of me doing extra work to raise my grade. She also doesn't even think that I am capable of doing the work. And she accused me of "winging it" through my entire project.

Naturally, most people in my position would lobby the teacher to reconsider....but my breakdown yesterday proved that I was not emotionally or physically able to complete the work even if my teacher had approved it. I was so beaten down that I was...and in many ways...am still useless.

So I am giving up. Much to the shock of those around me (Mr. 3 was perhaps the most alarmed). Giving up is not in my nature....but it is the only thing that I can manage at the moment. So I am going to petition to late withdrawal from my thesis hours and the course design project. I can prove that that I was not able to withdrawal by the deadline and that I have extenuating circumstances that might affect my performance. I am also going to ask for a leave of absence from my program for next Fall, and take my comps and retake my last class in the Spring. I am not even going to try for the thesis. The faculty in the department didn't want to deal with it before I have having issues...there is no way now that they will deal with this. If I go onto the PhD route I will deal with that issue when I get to it. I need to just get myself back together and get back to school later.

I can also say that I have officially had my first real bout of secondary PTSD symptoms. I completely freaked out yesterday, and I can't remember things....and while I am better today, I am still not at a hundred percent and I probably won't be for a few more days.

I also discovered that while I have so many things going on...so many personal and family issues going on, that I resent when others try to "take credit" for this current situation. Both Mr.3 and my mom had made overtures that it was their fault that this happened. And for once, this isn't about them...this is about me and only me.

Oddly enough, something must have resonated with Mr.3 because he called me at his lunchtime today for 10 minutes. I was so stunned that he called that I didn't talk very much...well I talked and cried at the same time. This would have been so much easier to deal with if he was here with me, if only just to hold me. Of course that short phonecall was the first in a week and a half. I hear less and less from him. I am afraid that one day he will forget to call me or type with me all together. He said that he had a call scheduled for 6pm tonight...and of course he didn't call. He never does call when he says that he will.

Yesterday really concerned me...I was very low...and in a place that I don't want to be in. I feel broken. Broken in that kind of way where you know something is broke but you aren't sure if it even can be fixed...or if it is even worth it to try.

Happiness is.....

that even on the absolute worst of days, all can be made temporarily well when you find that last bit of chocolate you thought was gone at your desk.

Tuesday Musings

This will all be incredibly random.

Driving to work today I saw a little old nun walking towards the Cathedral. I wonder where she lives and if there are more. I didn't think that there was a nunnery in Utah...but maybe there is.

My grade in course design is not what I wanted it to be....and I am desperately trying to get ahold of my professor to see what can be done to salvage it. And it is causing me to have a horrible day...and all I want is for my husband to hold me. It just tears my heart out that he isn't here.

Jimmy has begun to start spending the graduation money that he has been getting in the mail. He bought girl pants yesterday...and a couple of shirts that are pretty cool....but WAY, well...gay. Who knew?

And of course I am trying to think of something else to write about. The grade thing has been pretty hard to handle.. I feel like a complete and total failure. Apparently my professor is online on WebCT, and I keep checking back every few seconds to see if she has responded to my email. Is it paranoid of me to think that my professors really don't want me to write a thesis? Because whenever I try to talk to my professor or advisor about it they make lots of excuses about how I am not approved (although I was told that I was) and that it wasn't going to work.... I think that they are so used to people wanting to do the terminal masters that they are reluctant to do the extra work of a thesis.

I just checked again to see if she had sent me a message back...nothing. And she is offline now according to WebCT. Is she ignoring me? While I would really like it if she had just made a mistake on the grading...nothing would work out that nicely for me. So I foresee some major groveling in my near future. I think that I am just in shock over the grade.... I put so much work into the project. I was really careful with it. I probably put more work, time, and thought into that project than anything else that I have done in my college career. And with the final grade that I got she must have given me a C on the project...which I just can't see how that happened. I can't.

New Things That I Have Learned Today

First of all, and I am sure that this probably doesn't need to be stated, but if you comment on my blog....if you enter into my cyber-realm (I so need a crown!)....anything you say is free game for me to comment on.

Second of all....it amazes me that based on one paragraph of writing that I did in 2004, that today, someone can completely make up their mind about who I am. So on this ill-fated blog-post of 2004, I wrote about someone I knew from High School....someone who was a complete jerk to me after high school (and to several other people as well)...and also someone who, back in 2004, I heard something funny about and posted it. The information I posted was based on my assumptions at the time and second-hand information that I had heard about him.

Well...today, he commented on the blog post just to correct by facts. In normal circumstances, I would have been pleased and surprised to hear from him...especially since I had seen him (and his haircut which was silly-I won't deny that) a couple weeks ago at the mall. I had seen him and at the time purposely avoided saying hello to him, because I didn't want a repeat treatment of how he had treated me before. (Not that he noticed me anyway...but he felt secure enough to call me a "stalker"-wait...I am getting ahead of the story...) In normal circumstances I would have been pleased to hear from him, and might have sent him an email telling him that it was nice to hear from him and that I did in fact have my facts wrong, and the evidentable "so I saw you at the Mall, your children are adorable, and how are things?" yada yada yada and so on. But these aren't normal circumstances, because after he "corrected" me he said: "It's funny how your point of view is effected by your emotions. Bitter party of one."

And it begins. You can read the comments (note the plural here because he commented twice at the time of this posting), but I would like to decontruct his last sentence.

First, "It's funny how your point of view is effected by your emotions." Well, it isn't funny but quite normal actually...everyone's point of view is "affected". Following on the play of words here, "affect" being emotionally driven and "effect" causing something. So then are emotions caused by the point of view or does your point of view influence your emotions? Regardless of this philosophical and linguistic puzzle...let's just say that he is not saying anything new or profound.

The second sentence really is what got me. "Party of one" is wrong, because I am not a party of one and haven't been for quite some time....in fact, in the aforementioned blog post...I was not a party of one then, and I even mentioned Mr.3. "Bitter" is what really gets me. And I wouldn't have been that concerned over his comments, if he hadn't called me bitter. Even through all of the hell that I have been through lately...I wouldn't call myself bitter. Bitter people aren't as optimistic as I am.....and bitter people aren't as nice as I am to people....in fact, if I was bitter...I would have killed someone by now. I will admit that if you call me "bitter", yes I will react back. But I would react back if anyone called me any sort of a name. That and there is a connotation that is allied with a "bitter woman" that of someone who is so consumed by their bitterness that they are unable to move on from that bitterness. But I HAVE moved on. And I am only commenting on it today...because I found it so damn funny.

The hilarity continues as he commented back on my jibe that he has learned to google his name to tell me that he (and it is such a stereotypical remark) that he "doesn't care" what I think. But he must....if he didn't care, why correct me in the first place...and why feel the need to correct me AND call me bitter if he didn't care? Furthermore....he also "cared" enough to CHECK BACK TO THE POST and comment again...to tell me that "he didn't care."

He has accused me of making assumptions about him. I admit, I did. I have been corrected in my information. However, the manner of his correction did nothing to sway the opinion that I have of him. Yes, I don't know him anymore....I can only base my opinion of him being a jerk on his actions towards me when I last met and spoke to him. He also doesn't know ME anymore...but he felt no issues in labeling me as bitter based solely on a blog post that I wrote in December of 2004. I am not saying that I am the better person here (keep in mind that I can say that though, especially since this is my blog), but we need to remember that he is not the better person either.

PTSD links and more...

So I am finally going to crack down and begin to link some of the PTSD sites that I read almost on a daily basis.

For today though, there is a good post from Patience Mason writing about writing therapy. If anything I hope that Mr.3 gets to read it, it might be something to consider for later.

An Addition....

I had just hit the publish button on the last post when Mr.3 called me. I was so in shock that it was him calling that I about choked on my string cheese.

So for about 3 minutes we had one of those conversations where nothing was said and everything was said.

I told him that there was another email/blog post for him. He asked what it was about and I told him that it was about battlespaces. I also told him that I have proven myself enough to him and that we could go no further unless he let me in. He agreed.

He said that he was allowed a quick call to me "because he was flaking out" to let me know that he has a half hour phone call scheduled for 6pm this evening.

He was also out of breath. I asked him if he was ok, he said that he was upset and that we would talk about it later. I could hear it in his voice....his anxiety was up, which means that his adrenaline is up. I can't remember if I have posted about this....but increased adrenaline in the brain shuts off the access in the brain between the short term and long term memory. And adrenaline will stay in your system for days at a time....this is why someone just doesn't return to normal when they have a flashback.

This tells me several things: one, that I got through to him....and two, the news created a situation in which I cannot be sure that he will even remember me talking to him.

Let's reason this out shall we? Let's say that me being upset really did bother him. That would account for his strange attitude when we talked on Thursday. His short term memory wasn't allowing him to retain the knowledge about it and talk about it. He commented that he had been allowed to call because he had been "flaking out" on contacting me...so it is clear that something is interfering with his memory. His doctor has given him a notebook in which he is supposed to write everything down in....to help him remember. Because he can remember all the information that he wrote down in a paper from two years ago...but it is up in the air if he remembers what he had for breakfast. Posting everything on this blog and in email to him, while frustrating, is helpful because at least there is a record that both he and I can refer back too.

So I got through to him, but at what cost? He needs to learn that there are going to be things in life that upset him, and he needs to learn how to work through all of that. One of the things that will be the biggest problem for him, is learning how to cope when I am upset. If he reacts to me being upset, it triggers a response in him that creates another situation in which I get more upset...a horrible cycle results. This is why we need to be in therapy together. Talk therapy is not going to help him with anything unless I am there too. We need to learn to interact with each other so that we can be together.

My anger and frustration with him is completely natural, and in fact, I express that anger in a fairly non-confrontational way. But if Mr.3 is physically unable to handle normal anger expressions from others....he is not going to be able to function normally...unless he can gradually learn to teach his body to react in a different way. This is where I come in. Talk therapy can help us both by giving us a platform to one, deal with my anger, and two, help give Mr.3 the right tools to help me deal with the anger.

Whoever said that "knowledge is power" never had to deal with a situation like this. I can understand what is happening with him...I understand what the consequences are....but then again...my anger feels pretty selfish in the face of it. Even though I have every right in the world to be angry. I feel pretty powerless.

Mr.3 mentioned that he might be able to get time online in a couple of hours....besides the fact that I need to work on my project...I am not going to be online purposely. He needs time to read my second email and this post. He needs time to calmly...and with even breathing....read all of this, take notes, talk to his doctors....and then have an open and honest phone conversation with me tonight.

This could be another breakthrough....but I never knew that breakthroughs could be so painful. While I want to be there online for him to satisfy my own need to talk and be with him....I need to sacrifice that time in hoping that he will read what I have written and take it to heart.

Mike, honey, I love you so much...I hope that we can make it through this.

Battlespaces-- Another Letter to My Husband (still no word since Thursday)

Yesterday, when I said that you needed to prove that you were not my enemy....it started me in thinking about battlespaces. This situation would make you the bad guy. You abandon without cause, but give lip-service that you are not. You promise funding that never comes through, and you have no worries about running off with half the rent money and never paying it back. It is very similar to the relationship between the US and the Kurds, when you look at it. And the situation is sickening. I have never thought of our marriage as a battle. I have always thought of us as two people working side by side in the name of one united cause...us. But you are pushing me away. Maybe it is because you have been pushed away for so many years by others. Maybe deep down inside you are so scared that you have found happiness that you are bound and determined not to let it happen. Maybe you believe that good things cannot happen to you.

But they can...if only you would let them. If you stop fighting and surrender, you could be happy.

You are no longer in a job where you have to leave for weeks or months at a time on a moment's notice. And even when you were in that job, your wife had the benefit of a commanding officer calling her to let her know that you were being deployed. You are not in that situation anymore....and I don't have to accept you running off and leaving for days, weeks, or months at a time without having outside confirmation of where you are.

I am not asking too much.

I am also not asking for to much for open and honest communication from my husband. I have played all of my negotiation cards up front with you. I have offered complete forgiveness and acceptance. Yet, you keep me in the dark. I have continually shown myself as understanding and willing to learn to see things from your point-of-view. Yet, you still feel that you need to "protect me" from yourself. I have been completely faithful in all of my wedding vows....yet you act as if to "love, honor, and cherish"ing me are a waste of your time. What are your negotiation cards? Let's see, you tell me that you love me, but you treat me like dirt. You tell me that you want me as part of your recovery and treatment....yet you ignore my pleas, tell me stories to give me false hope, withhold information...but insist that you are not. I am not a simpleton. I am not involved in your treatment because you are actively making sure that I am not involved.

But I try to be.

I try to be there for you...to help, love and support you. I keep trying to get through to you...even though you are giving me no encouragement, no acceptance. Hell, I can't even talk to you anymore because you even have control of that. All I have is the ability to send you stupid phone messages and write wordy emails trying to explain things to you about how I feel...because I have been denied a voice in this process. You are the most selfish man that I have ever met in my entire life.

I read so much about this....I read the success stories and the failures. I want us to be a success story.

We can be. I have made as many overtures on this that I can. We need to work through all of this together and the only way that we can do that, is if you let me be a part of this. You have to let me in. YOU have to do this. It doesn't matter how open and accepting I am if you refuse to use me. I don't need to prove myself, my loyalty, and my love to you anymore. I have proven it all to you...even when you hurt me (and it is often) I take the pain and ask for more...because I see so much potential in you, and in us, and our future. I have shown that I am willing to work on this.

You need to take the next step.

You know what you need to do. And you know where to find me.

I love you.

May I draw your attention to...

the new photographs on the page. The Flickr account has been updated with something so scary that it boggles the mind....yes, I actually took pictures of my face....not hiding behind anything, but actual pictures on my face.

I got a new camera yesterday and have been playing around with it. Lots of fun! I am going to try to post more photos from now on.

Oh, and I you are looking for an update...no word from Mr.3 since yesterday.

Letter to my husband....

Friday Morning

Hummm....well, no information from you as to your schedule today. My schedule is a little different than most days. I will be at home until 10:30 am, and then I think that I should be home around 3-ish. Which is normally in that window of when you can be online. So if I miss you would you please send me an email with information on what happened in your group sessions, specifically what was said with DeWitt. I am looking for a viable reason as to why you are not home. And of course if there is something that you should tell me, I would appreciate it if you did. I know that it seems insensible to ask that of you all the time...but alot of anguish could have been avoided last Fall if you had just opened up to me.

I bought that book you were talking about "the Killer elite"....not that it is an enticement for you to come home, but it will be here for you to read along with a stack of books that I keep piling up for you.

Other than that I am not sure what to say. Whereas last week I felt connected to you, this week I feel a large disconnect. Normally I feel pretty good after our chats, but I didn't after yesterday's. Maybe it was the lack of me being upset not being recognized....maybe it was because I felt that your "chipperness" was too forced. Either way this week has left me at a total loss. You seem to be on this cycle of you telling me that you are going to come home...and that you are way excited about it....but then you limit your contact with me even more. And then of course, nothing materializes. You did this for months last Fall, would you please spare me that pain again? I want to support you....but I can't support you like that when the hope you offer me hurts so badly when what you say doesn't materialize. If you had truly put yourself in my place, you would understand that. Even though you say that you have done this....you really haven't, and you will never be able to until we, together, are face to face talking about this. Just like I will never be able to shake my anger and depression until we can work these issues out together.

While part of me believes that you are in Utah, there is this other part of me that believes you are still in Washington DC. And when I think about that, I wonder why you couldn't just tell me that you wanted to go back there to go back into therapy? I would have been understanding of that....but then again, I would have recommended that we try for therapy here first, so that I could be close to you but also so that I could have visited you and been a part of your recovery. How you intend on keeping someone's trust but still be stubborn enough to try to hide your treatment is beyond me....it isn't like I didn't know that you had a problem you wanted to seek treatment for. I have alot more reason to believe that you are not in Utah and rather somewhere else....little tells, like you insisting on taking items from the house here that could be easily liquidated, you taking two months worth of razors for a two week trip, the massive amounts of luggage that you took...but your insistence that you were going to leave your big shirt with me because you knew that I would miss you. Something about that resonated with me when you said it. And of course the phone records showing that you were still calling from DC when you had been telling me that you were on the train for 3 days.

And I am sure that your response to all of this would be anger....or "why can't I just trust you?"...My response to that is that I am stuck between two worlds. One world where circumstantial evidence keeps piling and piling up. And the other world where I want to be the loyal wife and trust what my husband says. Unfortunately the weight of the truth falls on you. You either get released from Utah and come home, or you come clean with me as to what is going on...we get you a bus ticket home...and you come home. Nothing can be proved until you come home (or perhaps a doctor's call).

I think that I have spent enough time proving to you that I am not the enemy, that I am a loyal, supportive, and trusting wife. You need to now prove to me that you are not my enemy.

So unless something miraculous happens today, we are again faced with another weekend...and as you feel that you don't need to check in with me on the weekends, I will be lucky if I hear from you on Monday.

This needs to end if we are to survive.

I hope to hear from you soon.

I miss you and I love you.

10 Random Things I Learned Today

1. While I understand the basic principles of forming a budget and planning for the future...I have friends who are about to graduate college who have no idea. Not only does this frighten them...but it frightens me.
2. Frederick II of the Holy Roman Empire wanted to learn what would happen to children who were raised without being talked to or touched. He took several infants away from their parents and gave them to nurses who were forbidden to touch or talk to them. All of the children died before they ever spoke.
3. I can in fact recall information that I researched several months ago with a high degree of accuracy, but I can't seem to remember what it was that I wanted to look up earlier today.
4. Compared to the other GV bloggers...I really don't write about social issues or "substantive" topics.
5. It is possible for your shoes to be too heavy for your legs to lift, and the likelihood of this situation increases with the earlier the hour it is in the morning.
6. The first sunburn of the season will always happen at the oddest time and when you are in the oddest positions....and if I had a camera I would take a picture of my brother's legs to show you.
7. Research has shown that if premature babies are massaged for 15 minutes a day that they develop faster than babies who are not touched.
8. Even if you understand what the IT guy at work is trying to do to your computer...it will still be an unnecessary "upgrade" and will take 4 times longer than it should.
9. Premature babies are prone to sleep apnea.
10. My family is rather sneaky about sharing information on my state of mind.

10 Questions I would like answers to:

1. Why is it necessary for my co-worker to stamp her feet outside my office door in order to get me to notice her? Why not just say, Hi?
2. Why does one crave deep fried foods? I understand the craving of fruits and vegetables because your body is only trying to gather nutrients it needs....so what did I need out of the fried zucchini at Greek Souvlaki?
3. What was I going to look up earlier today?
4. Why is it that every time I tell my husband that I am upset with something that I am met with silence? Why can't we just have a fight and get over it?
5. And whoa....why am I having blog deja vou?
6. I don't really understand why astronauts suffer from bone density loss....how common is this? And how many astronauts are put out of commission for it?
7. Why is it that in one week on GV the Turkish blogs will have too much going on to fit into one article and the Kurdish blogs will not have enough? And vice versa?
8. What was that pre-teen girl trying to accomplish preening in front of her house looking like a hot pink version of Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman?
9. Why it is that people who are mean to their service dogs don't catch on that their dog is deliberately leading them into that wall?
10. Where did that frigging gnat in my office come from, and how many times do I really need to kill it?

An Announcement....

I would like to announce that I got an A in my syntax class. Now all I need to do is finish my project for the other class....do well on it, and my academic standing will be returned.

Fhew! That is one thing down.

Last Night and This Morning

Last night was bad, real bad. Early this morning I was online in the hopes of catching Mr.3. He seemed to be in good spirits and told me that no one was released last night as his doctor had some kind of emergency. There is supposed to be a lunchtime meeting, but he has given me very little information besides that. Here is the email that I wrote him this morning after our 5 minute online chat:

That was kinda strange this morning, that we managed to meet each other online.

As I said earlier....I feel lost. I don't know how to process this information...holding out hope kills me when it all comes crashing down at a deadline.

I will not apologize for anything that I have written in the past 24 hours. You must remember my position in all of this...and while you have felt that you have given me enough information and don't understand why I can't be satisfied with that...there is a difference between information and for lack of a better term, a story. I meant to tell you ages ago but I read your journal...I read it in an effort to find some clue as to where you are...some clue as to your state of mind. In it, you said several times how you didn't understand why I wouldn't just believe you when you told me about things that were happening...why I wasn't satisfied with what you said. This was in relation to your Charles Schwab account. At first I was so happy to hear that you had a bit of money and that you would be able to pay your bills...and then the figure kept getting bigger and bigger...and you kept getting statement information with no numbers in it. Nothing has come in from Charles Schwab since you left...another instances of your "information" being just a story. There needs to be something solid behind any information that you give me....this takes us back to you giving me bad intel.

And with the past 24 hours I feel that I have been given the same thing again, and I find it incredibly cruel. Even if there was an emergency on DeWitt's part yesterday, you could have tried to call me instead of letting this fester. And after all that we have been through...it still seems as if you are "trying to protect me"...deciding what is appropriate for me to hear. Did we regress?

When I type with you and talk with you...I put on this facade of calm and patience. Actually it is the same facade that I use with everyone else nowadays. I try to be strong for you so that you can get well and come home...under that facade however is a women who is riddled with fear and doubt. Who has legitimate anger and rage that she finds she can't get to express to anyone....because so many depend on her to be strong. While you have made progress I have not....yet I find that I have been placed in this impossible space that I am holding up everyone else about this situation (friends, coworkers, family) that I can't find time to support myself. I feel like I am rotting from within.

I am tired of being riddled with guilt everytime I express my feelings because I worry that it will set your progress back.

I wouldn't even bother dealing with this if I didn't love you as much as I do. I can not conceive life without you as my husband, my lover , and friend. And frankly, I don't know how I haven't completely lost it by now. I fear that I suffer from secondary PTSD (which I still find as a funny phenomenon, but I have all of the symptoms) and I worry that I can't help you if I am in such bad shape. Last night the anxiety and anger and I don't know what really scared me...my heart actually hurt and for a while there I thought that I might need to go to the hospital....I tried to calm myself down, but I am really not sure if I was trying to calm down or wishing that my heart would stop altogether.

I miss you so much...and I want to get better but I can't even start that process until you are home. Please come home and end my misery.

I love you.

What state am I in?

I really don't know. It is 10pm on Tuesday night and my husband has not called me nor is he home. It makes me sick to my stomach. I sent him a cryptic email because I wasn't even sure what to say. I want to yell at him....I want to say things to him that will cause him pain...because he seems to have to no problems with causing me pain.

He has robbed me even of the ability to be angry at him.

He has cut off my voice.

I am stuck in a flashback of last fall....at least then he had a viable story of why he could not be home...the VA wouldn't clear him from their police system. And then finally the VA just handed him over to the police and he was in jail. And for once I knew where he was. Now, he has no viable story left.....he told me today that his therapist said that there was no more progress that he could make "in house". He has no reason.....no more excuses to not be home.

I used to try to think up his excuses for him to not be home. And most of the time I was right on the money with my predictions. Not this time. I can not think of one logical excuse why he is not home right now. Even if he was still in DC...why hasn't he told me? I have given him PLENTY of guilt-free opportunities to tell me the truth. If my husband cannot even tell me the truth, even after all that we have been through, even with me supporting him through all of this....then maybe he really is the coward that he feels that he is. Because only a coward would continue to tell someone that they love them, and that they will come home to them....and not do what they say. Until he can face what he is or has become....I don't want him home.

I watched this show on tv tonight about women who were married to men in prison. I sympathized with them and envied them. I envied them because at least they had the luxury of knowing where their husbands were. I sympathized with them because they understood how I feel....a way that most people wouldn't understand.

I can still love and support the man.....but I don't need him because I can't depend on him being there. I can't hold out hope anymore because I can't handle the disappointment.

The only one who can change how I feel is my husband. He needs to stand by his words. He needs to come home....before he doesn't have a home to come home to.