I have been mulling a lot over our separation since our One Year Anniversary has passed, and sometimes subconsciously, sometimes consciously, the reality of it all sifts through my brain daily. So much of this Era is still un-finished, that it is difficult to get a good perspective of it, get my mind around everything that has occurred and begin labeling events and emotions, as I am wont to do with things that are painful in my life so as to gain a better understanding of how they have helped me to grow, and thank the Lord for them. Yet, the depth and weight of this experience is such that I squirm, now and then, to find the surface to poke my head through and finally see a sight that makes sense to me, that I can point to and say, "Now, that is that."
As I re-read those two paragraphs I just wrote, I realize I managed to write a lot of vagueries. Again, an example of how difficult it is to find perspective in the midst of all this.
Let me just run back to the original Thought that slammed its way into my frontal cortex earlier. "I have no husband." My husband and I have been friends for 13 years. We have been in love for 9 of those years. But, at the deepest point in our love, War wrenched us apart. At the point of greatest change in our lives, the birth of our child, we were made to be alone, separated from each other, and him from the child. Our communication while he is in Iraq is sketchy and fickle, not to mention often forcedly insincere.
Now. These are the things I can point to and say, "That is that."
Then come the Questions.
"How have we grown apart?"
"Can a marriage survive with so much setback, so much alone-ness where there should be together-ness?"
"How will a child suffer without knowing one of her parents?"
"Will it take a long time for Violet to learn to love her Daddy?"
"What effects will PTSD have on our family?"
"What sort of communication problems will we develop with each other once he & I are together again?"
"Will here be awkwardness because of his experiences with war and death?"
"How much should I expect of him, and how far do I go to fill in the void?"
These are the Questions that are haunting my subconscious every day, to the extent that Big Things like, "I have no husband" manage to sneak through and slam themselves into my frontal cortex once in a while. I shouldn't be surprised. I suppose in reality, I, as a seperated spouse, am going through my own form of PTSD. Stress certainly is a huge factor in each of our lives. In his life it is much more active, whereas in mine, it is passive. I suppose it is the reason why I must have everything so quiet and low-key here at home, and I find it hard to make myself get out of the house to go do things and see people.
But, I digress.
Hmm..........but having said that, I realize I have mostly reached another....shall we say, underwater whirlwind of confusing currents, undercurrents, and inability to see the top. That is, once again, I have reached my limits of comprehending the Entire Situation. I can get as far as what facts and events have occurred already, and then I just stop and muse over them, asking all the questions, to which I have no answers. I guess I just wait.
Don't be fooled by the Analytical Manner in which I attack this Life Issue. [As IF] Just because I capitalize words and mark off my paragraphs does not mean I have any of this sorted out. I merely want to remind you all that, though 6 weeks and 4 days is all that is left of our Separation, there is still the whole year and yearS ahead of us to work out Whatever Damage has been done (if there is any....this I do not know) to us as husband & wife (and parents). I humbly ask you readers: Please pray. This Journey for me (for us both) has become like a plantar's wart. (ever had one of those??) It doesn't look like much on the outside anymore, but touch it, apply pressure, and your nerves will tell you just how deeply in it still reaches. The pain which surfaces when I hear a love song on the radio or watch a father play with his baby daughter, or see a husband and wife together........is too difficult to put into words. It's all still there, I've just developed the legs, I guess, to carry it around with me. But poke it, and it all still hurts.
There. A bit of emotion for those of you who call me stoic.
And now to bed with me.