29 plus 1

My running joke with Randy for the last (almost) 8 years of our relationship has been to tell him that eventually, he would surpass me in age.  I think the time has finally come.

3 weeks ago, I turned 30.  

I don't like it very much at all.  Every time I think about how old I am, (which isn't very often) I stick my tongue out.  Because I just don't wanna be 30.  I know- that's very grown up of me to stomp my foot and stick my tongue out.  Oh well! 

The morning of my birthday, I woke up at some point in the middle of the night and refused to look at the clock.  I was officially 30 as of 2:22 am, and I didn't want to know what time it was because that would mean that I was really and truly 30.  (I had a similar reaction when I turned 20- I woke up, saw what time it was and started crying because I realized I was no longer a teenager...)

I really am not sure why I am having such a hard time with it.  It's not like I had a bunch of goals that I wanted to accomplish by this age, or that I'm not where I thought I would be in life.   Because honestly, I never really had a plan to be in a certain place by a certain age.  I've just kinda gone with the flow of things... and where I've wound up has been pretty good for me.  

Blah.  I just don't like it. 

But eventually I will get over it.  I pretty much have to.  I'll accept getting older... eventually.

Either that, or I will just stick with being 29.... plus 1, 2, 3.....    

The girl that wouldn't change her name

Oh that's me. 

I'm "that girl".

The one who wouldn't change her name when she got married.

That's his name- not mine- and he is perfectly ok with that! ;)

 

After Randy and I got married I had to get myself all checked into the Marine Corps.  One of the (way too many) stops was the ID card center.  I filled out my paperwork, smiled and said cheese, and then signed my name.  The woman who was helping us gave me the funniest look.  I smiled- and she told me that she had been working in the ID center for 8 years- and she had NEVER come across a wife that did not change her name. 

I wasn't completely sure how to respond to that.  I didn't change my name because I just didn't want to.  I blame it partly on my stubborn streak, and partly on too many Women's Studies classes at Penn State.  

Randy and I talked a LOT about the whole "name change" thing.  The conversation went something like this:

Me- "But I don't wanna change my name, and I don't have to!"

Randy- "But that's what you're supposed to do!"

Me- "So then you change your name"

Randy-"But I don't wanna!"

Me- "Well, that's exactly my point!!!" 

I'm very lucky that my darling dearest isn't one of those ultra-macho, chest pounding, cave-man types.  Not that there's anything wrong with that- but let's be real.  I am just NOT that type of girl.  I am stubborn, independent, and sometimes way too opinionated to just do something because that's what I'm "supposed to do".

(That's another reason why I love that guy so much- he lets me be me- and is totally okay with that!) 

I've never really done much because I'm supposed to- I've only ever done what I want to. I've been ME for the last 29 years, and I am perfectly happy with it.  It's my name... it's who I am... and I like who I am.

Maybe eventually I will do the whole name change thing- a lot of people have asked what we are going to do when we have kids.  We haven't really gotten that far yet, but I'm confident that when we do get there, we'll make the right decision.  I've thought about hyphenating- so I can still keep "my" name. 

And don't worry- I won't get mad if you call me Meghan Williamson.  It's a decision that I have made for myself- and I won't snap at you and bite your head off if you call me what I'm supposed to be called. 

I might look behind me, trying to figure out who the heck you are talking to though! 

We call it a "leave of absence"

Or a sabbatical.  

We don't call it what most people might- a separation.

I've been going back and forth, trying to decide if this is something I want to share with the entire universe, because really, almost a year later, its hard for me to talk about.  But, I want to be honest.  And I want to help other spouses, and other couples, who might be quietly struggling with PTSD and feel like they are all alone.


On February 27, 2010, Randy took a leave of absence.  Because of things that had been building for almost 6 years, he decided that he just couldn't handle me, or our marriage anymore.  So he left.  


I can honestly say that Randy walking out on me- on us- is the worst thing that has happened to me, and that I have ever had to deal with.  It took almost 3 months for him to come back around and realize the things he was blaming me for weren't necessarily my fault.  They weren't anybody's fault.

In that three months we learned a lot about what we as individuals can handle, and what our marriage can handle.  I saw a counselor, who told me that what was happening wasn't my fault.  I cried... a lot.  I leaned on my friends and family harder than I probably ever have before.  

I literally felt like my entire world was crashing down around me and there was nothing I could do to control or to stop any of it.

I also did one of the scariest things I have ever done as a Marine wife.  I went to his command.  First, I spoke with the Chaplain.  When I explained to him everything that Randy was doing and how completely out of character everything was, he suggested that I go to his command-essentially, his bosses- and tell them what was going on.  This of course pushed Randy further away from me for a time, because he felt that I was trying to hurt him and his career.  He now knows that I will do anything and everything in my power to protect him- even if I am protecting him from himself. 

Randy kept telling me he was "fine", and that nothing was wrong with him.  His friends kept telling me that he "seemed fine".  He was fine, and I was overreacting. (I hate that word, and now, neither one of us are allowed to use it.  It's such a nothing word, that can mean so many things.)  

But when I sat down and made a list of all the possible triggers that could be causing this- I realized that him being "fine" was the farthest thing from the truth. 

I could trace this all back to August of 2009- six months before Randy left.  That's when a good friend of his was killed in Afghanistan.  I remember him looking at me after he got the phone call and saying "I should have been there."  After that, there were so many things that, standing alone, were completely innocent.  Piled on top of 6 years of emotions and problems and situations that weren't dealt with, they were the beginning of the end.  That Christmas, I gave him the new Call of Duty game for his Playstation.  He literally did not sleep for 3 days straight because he played that game nonstop.  I don't know if he felt like he was back in Iraq or what, but it struck me as odd at the time, but I brushed it off.  There was a suicide in the battalion, and then an attempted suicide.  Then someone he looked up to when he was younger was arrested and that person also attempted suicide.  Each event on its own would have been managable, but all of those things together, on top of so many things that hadn't been dealt with.... well, who wouldn't fall apart?

I brushed off lots of things, and at the beginning, I held myself responsible.  Why didn't I push more? Why didn't I make him talk to me more? Why wasn't I more understanding.... why, why, why.  There were so many questions swirling through my head.  Eventually though, the thoughts stopped swirling, and I had to focus on me, and taking care of myself, and what I had control over.  I had no control over Randy and his actions.  I only had control over me, and what I did next, even if what was next was as simple as eating the next meal.

I was on complete auto-pilot, and faking it to everyone around me.  There were only a handful of people that I confided in- my parents and my sister, a few friends here at Quantico, and a handful of teachers at school.  I was embarrassed, ashamed, and completely broken down.  I didn't want anyone to know that this was happening to me. 


I fought hard for my marriage last year.  Hard enough for both of us.  Hard enough for Randy to realize that I would NEVER give up on him, and ALWAYS be there for him, no matter what.  He eventually realized that he could talk to me and tell me things that I might not necessarily want to hear, but that he needed to say.  We've learned that it's easier for him to say those things when its completely dark, so he doesn't actually have to look at me.  

We fought off a lot of demons, a lot of rumors, and a lot of people that we didn't really need in our lives.  We are still fighting for that matter- but we are winning.  We've decided that PTSD is not going to beat us and bring us down.  

I don't regret a single thing that happened in that span of time- February 27- May 12, 2010.  It has made us both so much stronger.  It taught us how to communicate again, and we are actually better people because of it.  I love him more now because he eventually admitted to me he needed help- and wanted me to help him.  To me, that is such an amazing sign of strength- not weakness.  I am amazed each and every day at how strong he is, and how much he has overcome.  He could have just run away and hidden, but he chose to come back fighting.

Now, more than a year later, we are apart again.  But it's okay this time.  We are both ready and willing to take on the challenges we might face in this deployment, and after the deployment.  But we will do it together.  Randy and I make a pretty good team- and we can get through anything, as long as we have each other.

 
 

My deployment goals

(This is another effort to focus on the positive aspects of my husband going away for 7 months.) 

So at this point, we are days away from THE DAY.  I'm doing my best to hold it together, and try to look beyond D-Day.  

Before deployment, I think all of us wives set "goals" for ourselves.  These things may be completely insignificant, or big huge financial goals or things involving children and family. 

Either way, we have our list of things to do, and things we want to get done and make happen while the boys are away.  It makes the time go by a bit faster, and makes things seem more manageable when you can see you are getting stuff done.

A lot of my deployment goals are centered around money, because yes, we do make a little more when the guys are deployed.  But let me tell you- I'd give up every penny of it if it means Randy could stay home!

So- my goals for this deployment, in no particular order:

1.  Pay off my car.  (This isn't totally fair to list this-deployment or not, I am done paying for my car in June.)  Along with this- possibly pay off the truck.  This may be a stretch, but I'm going to try. 

2.  Get organized and clean out.  This will be helpful in the fall, when the movers will have that much less CRAP to pack and move for us.

3.  Lose 15-20 lbs.  I think every single deployment girl I know has this goal.  Somehow its easier to lose weight when the guys aren't around.  Maybe its stress, maybe its because most marines I know are human garbage disposals.... and unfortunately, when he eats, I eat..... 

4.  Have a savings account again.  Well, at least a healthy looking one!

5.  Have at least one fun something to look forward to each month.  It can be something simple- like a one hour massage.  It doesn't have to be anything major.  It just needs to be SOMETHING that will make the time go by faster.  Although I have big things planned too- an Easter trip to California, and a halfway trip to Asheville, NC!

6.  Get our fabulous cruise booked and paid for!  This is a no brainer!!! 

So there they are.  I probably will add to this list as we get further into the next 7 months.  Hopefully, it will make the time go by faster, and give me something else to think about.  Its nice to be able to feel a sense of accomplishment on your own, while your husband is off saving the world. ;)

I'm a bad wife

Yep, I said it.  I am a bad wife. 

I don't really enjoy cooking, or baking.  I'm not exactly the most domestic girl in the world. (If you are any of those things- please don't take offense!) 




This is NOT us.  End of story.  The thought of it makes me giggle though!


I blame my stubborn independence on my mother, who raised both my sister and me with the notion that while boys were nice to have around, you didn't NEED a man to make you happy.  You sure as heck didn't NEED to depend on one to take care of you.  If you want to be happy, you better run and start making yourself happy. 

Back in May or June, Randy accepted orders to our new unit at Camp Lejeune.  This was after we originally had orders to 29 Palms, (kill me now!) then Camp Pendleton.  I wasn't quite ready to venture to the West Coast, and besides that I had JUST started a new job.  I was really torn on what to do- follow my husband across the country, and watch him deploy a few months later, or stay where I was until after the deployment.  We knew regardless of the unit we were with, we would be facing a deployment anyway.  So we made probably one of the hardest decisions in our marriage to date.  We decided that I would stay in VA, and he would attempt to change his orders to an East Coast unit, to make it a little bit easier on both of us.

This is why I feel like I am a bad wife.  Granted, it was a decision we both made together, but it has been much harder for me that I realized.  I feel bad that I am not able to cook him dinner every night before he leaves for deployment, I feel bad that I'm not there when he is frustrated and needs someone to vent to.   I feel bad that I'm not doing his laundry (as much as I hate it!)  I just feel bad that I'm not there to be a "good" pre-deployment wife.  

It gets frustrating.  I'm so lucky though that Randy has been so okay with this every step of the way.  This has challenged us in ways that are new to us.  It's almost-almost-harder now than it is to be apart during a deployment.  When you are only 300 miles away from each other, its irritating not to be able to see each other every single day.  There's no good reason for this separation, unlike the deployment, when the Marine Corps makes us be apart.  (I've tried stowing away in his sea bag each time!) 

It's hard to do it all on my own each day- be a single mom to my furbabies, and take care of EVERYTHING for much longer than I really planned.  But this is what I wanted.  I needed to be slightly selfish for the next few months and do what made ME happy, not what made the Marine Corps happy.  It's probably the only time in Randy's career (because he's a lifer, you know) that I will be able to make such a decision, and have it work so well for us. 

That's another reason why I'm so excited to start the deployment countdown- each day is of course one day closer to homecoming, but another day closer to my move to NC, back with my husband, where I belong. 

 

A title and the basics

Well, here I am.  

I am a blogger.  Not sure if I have anything all that interesting to say, but I guess we will find out.  I'll start this out the same way I did my facebook "PSA" the other night- My intention will never be to offend, piss off, or otherwise annoy anyone who reads it.  I'm betting though that my primary followers will be my friends, and you all know me well enough to know what I mean when I say something. (At least I hope.)


Anyway- the basics of me are this:  I am 28, married, a Marine wife.  I have parents who would still move heaven and earth if I needed them, and a sister who would be right behind them.  My husband has been in the Marine Corps for just shy of 8 years, I have been around in some way or another for that entire time.  We are about to begin our 4th combat deployment, and much to my dismay, they do NOT get any easier.  In fact, I'm fairly confident this will be the hardest deployment- at least emotionally.  So I think this blog will mostly turn into a way for me to vent over the next 8-9 months or so.  We shall see.  I'll try not to complain too much, because I really do love being a Marine wife and everything-good and bad-that goes along with it.

Coming up with a title was the hardest part of this whole "blog" process.  I HATE coming up with titles- which is slightly strange, since I have a degree in Journalism.  I just don't consider myself a witty enough person.  I'm much more straightforward.  So the title comes from one of my deployment CD's Randy made for me a few weeks ago.  When he was deployed in 2006, this song was on the radio a LOT.  All American Rejects- Move Along.  I listened to this song constantly, at top volume, and screamed along with the lyrics just to clear my head.  Every time I am feeling off, or out of control, I turn it on and really listen to the words:

Speak to me, when all you got to keep us strong
Move along, move along like I know you do
And even when your hope is gone
Move along, move along just to make it through move along 

To me, it makes everything else seem insignificant- because all you need to do is move along.  That's it... which sometimes is easier said than done. So, when all you've got to keep is strong, move along!