Carolina State of Mind!!!!
Posted by: linr12 on: December 20, 2009
After five years, we are finally out of Louisiana. I have to say I adore South Carolina. I love my new house. Gunner is loving his new school. He is in a class with 26 students — yet two teachers. Back at Ft. Polk he had 26 classmates and one teacher. I love his new teacher, she is enthusiastic and loving. She is also very well-educated. As is her co-teacher.
Gary hasn’t really started working per se. He has in processed. He’s no on Christmas leave.
As for me, I’m adjusting. It breaks my heart to be away from Madelin and Vicky. Mostly my granddaughter. Amazingly, I have not slipped into a deep depression. Gary and I both worried about that. I have been very mindful of my feelings and thought process. When I start to feel overwhelmed, I just stop and let myself feel just that– overwhelmed.
My house is all set up. Now to fit into a new life here. I actually feel that I’m coming back alive. Back at Ft. Polk I felt as if I had lost myself for five years. Here, I’m feeling a sense of awakening. A sense of excitement about being here and all that this area has to offer.
Grief and Blame
Posted by: linr12 on: November 11, 2009
Unless you live in a cave – a cave with no internet, TV, newspaper or gossiping squirrels – you know about the Army psychiatrist who killed 13 people and wounded 30.
He did this in a place soldiers should fee very safe – on an Army base. While they were either getting ready to deploy or returning from a deployment
I have had civilian friends ask me why other soldiers didn’t just “use their guns to fire back?” OF COURSE!!! Why didn’t they think of this? Those well-trained men and women set to deploy should have done just that. Except…. Soldiers are not issued guns – or if they are they are not issued live ammunition – except under very strict and much supervised situations. Even personal handgun ownership is stringent. Probably more stringent than in the civilian world.
I heard some local Redneck at Wal-Mart claim he would have “just jumped on the mother *(&*.” You know, because there’s no way HE was going to be shot down like a pansy. Of course, Cletus. You’re far more brave than the numerous men and women – the majority of them having gone through one (if not more) combat deployments. I’m sure that would have been wise. Act first, think later. I’m sure not a single person in that room was trying to come up with a combat strategy. The fact is they were in a situation where not single one of them expected to have to fight for their lives. Why would they have a plan in mind for saving their lives, or any one else’s? As for jumping on the guy? Knock yourself out, Mr. Overall-wearing-tobacco-chewing-pit-stain-having-fool.
Now we all sit back and play Monday morning quarterback. The blame game starts. Generals that are in charge of military bases put in to place new regulations. None that really make anyone safer, in all honesty. Yet, they have to show they didn’t just sit and do nothing.
At a festival this past Saturday the post SWAT team was seen walking around wearing t-shirts identifying them as such, caps, pants, boots – and carrying assault rifles. High visibility. I talked a friend who is on the team, he said that they were told to make themselves seen. Yet to answer no real questions and refer all questions to the Commanding General. As if we didn’t realize why they were out there walking around.
We sit back. We blame. We what if. We should have. We could have. We point fingers. We suggest ways that this or that could have been done to prevent a tragedy.
Yet, in the end. The tragedy took place. In the end, a mother still lost her son. Father still lost their daughters. A new wife still lost her husband. Families were torn apart by grief and loss. Blame does nothing to alleviate that grief.
And…. Our beautiful country lost brave soldiers either returning from or going to war. As well as the civilians that help them prepare.
God bless their souls.
For A Few Thousand, I Can Enrich Your Soul!
Posted by: linr12 on: October 12, 2009
Spiritual enlightenment for $9,000. Really?
My question here is this: WHY were you seemingly intelligent people crammed into a tight space, sweating your asses off after a 36 hour fast? All in a quest for spiritual enlightenment? I was not aware that you could actually pay for those sorts of things.
Now there is talk of criminal negligence. Which I do agree with, to a point. But what about personal responsibility? What about that, hmmm?
Love, Honor and Respect
Posted by: linr12 on: October 8, 2009
I’ll put a disclaimer here. I’m not a marriage counselor. This having been said, I think I could point out a few things to some younger couples that I see (or read about in various websites I read about online) that might enrich your marriage – and perhaps prevent an eventual divorce.
There is a little thing called respect. So many people fail to use this with their spouses. I am continually shocked by the number of people who say they love their husbands/wives with all their heart, and then call them names I would never dream of calling Gary. Or talk to their other halves in ways I’m sure they would not talk to strangers. For instances, there is a girl I know through mutual friends and she is on my MySpace– and I will admit beforehand I do not know her very well or even in person . She is very much in love with her fiancé. They appear to have this deep, abiding love. Yet…. She will leave him comments calling him the most atrocious names. Like “ass fuck” and the like. I’m sure to them it’s an inside joke. Yet, to me I’m thinking “really? That’s a pet name you have for the man you love more than life itself?”
I see it continually with other couples. The name calling in jest (or at least I hope it’s in jest). The sheer rudeness. The complete lack of manners. No please. No thank you. Lack of common courtesy that you would show a stranger. I understand our spouses and significant others are not strangers and we are afforded a more intimate bantering with them, but by this sheer intimacy I feel we should treat them with far more respect.
I cannot image calling Gary a foul name – even in jest. I try hard to remember to thank him for the big and small things he does.
Marriage is about respect and love. You cannot show a love and respect by being rude to someone. I honestly cannot wrap my mind around the idea that calling someone an “ass fuck” is respectful or loving. Yes, it’s their relationship. No, I’m not intimately involved at all in it. I just see this over and over and it makes me sad for them.
I have noticed that in relationships where the respect is obvious, the relationships seem stronger. More permanent. I cannot think of one couple I know that has been together for more than a few years where they name call or treat each other with sheer disrespect and they are happy together.
Again, it is true I do not know the inner workings of other people’s relationships; I just cannot imagine using language and actions other than love and respect for the person I consider my life partner.
I KNEW IT!!
Posted by: linr12 on: October 7, 2009
From the moment we crossed the boarder into this state, I knew that there was something different about Louisiana. Southern charm and manners are a myth here. What is not a myth is the inbred redneck. Seriously. In the five years I have lived here, sadly, I have lost IQ points.
Now there is proof that I have not made this all up. I stand vindicated — if not a little bit less intelligent.
On the Border
Posted by: linr12 on: September 19, 2009
This is something that is not easy for me to blog about, but here I go…
I have been on an antidepressant for years. I was on an anti-anxiety medication for years as well. I have no problem admitting that I take/took these medications. I calmly tell people who are struggling wit a new diagnosis of depression, “If you were diabetic, would you be embarrassed to admit you were on insulin?” I use logic with them.
I staunchly defend (or at least try to) mental illness causes. I point out that a mental illness is not a character flaw. I have even changed Gary’s opinion on this matter. When we first met, he – for all of his intelligence and coming from a family with a medical background – thought mental illness was a character flaw. He no longer feels this way.
And yet…. I guard something about myself from so many. I have a diagnosis called Borderline Personality Disorder . I am not as forthcoming about this because of the following:
This is a “disorder”
- It sounds almost like a split personality diagnosis
- If you read the books, or even some of the websites, the examples they give are so extreme, I cringe. Then I remind myself that there always varying levels of any diagnosis.
- I still judge even myself.
would like to clarify that Borderline Personality Disorder is NOT multiple personality disorder or bipolar/manic depression. These are separate diagnosis.
I have come so far. I was first diagnosed with BPD when I was 17. At that time, it was such a horrible diagnosis. They basically tell you, “you’re messed in the head, you’ll never be normal.” That was 23 years ago.
I’m so happy to say that I don’t have the extreme behaviors that so many people with this diagnosis do. I don’t have volatile personal relationships. That’s not something I could tolerate in my life. I did go through periods in my life of crippling depression. I did go through my life of where I cut – though thankfully I’m not scarred so badly that people see marks all over my arms and know I was a “cutter.” I was never a drug addict nor an alcoholic. My addiction is and will always be food. Even after having gastric bypass, I still struggle with eating. I do have a problem with compulsive spending, but never to the point of manic spending.
I could tell you why I am have a been diagnosed with BPD. But it doesn’t matter for the sake of this blog entry. The fact is, I have this diagnosis. BUT I AM MORE THAN THAT. I’m not defined by my diagnosis.
Recently I started seeing a therapist (as I do off and on as I realize I need to adjust where I am in life). She practices Dialectical Behavioral Therapy I also attend a group therapy every Friday. Gary calls this my Maniacs Meeting. The idea behind DBT is to become more “mindful.” Honestly, this is something that nearly anyone could benefit from. It is an all woman’s group with other Army wives and female soldiers. The first Friday I attended I was shocked to see there were female soldiers there… but that’s another story.
Through DBT I have learned so much. I think I have come so far. I’m still nervous about this post. I still judge myself for this diagnosis – though logically I know it’s not my fault. I would never judge anyone else, still I sit in judgment of myself. I think my first step in letting go of the judgment if being more open.
Oh and the whole being normal thing? Yeah, I’m not. But you know? I never really wanted to be normal. Normal’s boring.
Please, if you’re struggling with any sort of depression, anxiety or other emotional issue, don’t feel too ashamed to get help or take medication. It doesn’t make you weak. It makes you smart. Smart enough to know you need some help and to take the steps to get it.
HOW TO LOCATE MENTAL HEALTH SERVICES IN YOUR ARE:
Eight Years, Two Days Later
Posted by: linr12 on: September 13, 2009
Today is 9/13. I suppose you could say I’m late to the game. I’d like to think that I’m not. Two days ago eight years ago we all know that our world as we know it changed – The World Trade Center, the Pentagon, Flight 93.
Two days and eight years later, all in the name of terrorism – so many lives lost. So many families altered, changed and torn apart.
I remember, of course where I was. The fear that slowly crept through my body as I realized what this would mean for me. Selfish, maybe…but that’s what I felt. The fear gripped me. My boyfriend at the time – Gary – was in the Army. He was in the 82nd Airborne at Ft. Bragg. This was before Iraq. Before Afghanistan.
At that time, I was working for John Hancock Financial Services in Albuquerque, NM. I worked as one of only seven representatives that serviced the term life policies. I realized I would be taking calls for people having lost their lives during this process.
After our facility was shut down for security, I went home and watched the news. I was numb.
Gary had been put on alert that day to go to NYC. He ultimately was not sent. He finished his time at Ft. Bragg. Went on to Korea for a year. Then got out of the Army for a year. Miraculously he was not stop-lossed even though he got out right at the beginning of the Iraq invasion.
A lot has changed since that day eight years and two days ago. For America. For me.
Gary and I have married. We have a son. Gary has deployed to both Afghanistan and Iraq.
Our lives go on. That’s just it. The hijackers did not succeed. Our lives GO ON. They took too many lives – in the name of their extreme beliefs. But our lives and so many others go on.
Eight years and two day later we are still here.
Think BEFORE You Speak
Posted by: linr12 on: August 24, 2009
- In: Friends
- 2 Comments
I wonder if this is really so hard? I’m not known for having that filter that one should have, this is true. However, my problem is really more of one that I just sort of blurt out goofy things. I do not, as a general rule, say hurtful or mindless things.
By TBYS I mean when someone is going through a rough spot in life. For instance, a friend of mine just lost her son in a custody battle. It was a two year long, ugly thing. The father lied under oath. It was horrendous. When the other women on our mommy board (the online community on which I met my friend) found out, most were very sympathetic and left the loving messages she needed to read. Others, of course, left messages like, “ASK FOR A RETRIAL!!” As if her lawyer hadn’t maybe already thought of that, or as if it was that simple. Then there was the brilliant one who said, “What’s the age that a child can ask to go live with the other parent?!” HELLO! Our children are FIVE YEARS OLD!!! It would stand to reason that no state would have a five year old choose the parent he/she could live with.
These people are often throwing out “advice” like that. To me, it is insensitive. Sometimes just downright ignorant.
When I was working last year, I had a customer come in and tell myself and two co-workers about his premature son who was born on Mother’s Day and died on July 4th. It was heart wrenching. My boss actually said, “Well, I guess it’s God’s will. At least you still have two other kids.” Really?!?!? REALLY!!!! She had other nuggets of comfort but that one was the best. I still run into that soldier from time to time, he still mentions my ex-boss’s comments.
My point, and as usual I do have one it’s just buried in a lot of extra words, is that you should actually THINK BEFORE YOU SPEAK. If someone is sharing something with you that is obviously a tragedy for them: STOP. THINK. THINK SOME MORE. THINK AGAIN. THEN…… THINK….. THINK….. then speak. Don’t offer advice. Not all people need advice. Some don’t even want it. Unless they ask for it, don’t give it. Often when someone tells me of a loss they suffered, be it a death, a car accident, a hangnail, I will say varying degrees of, “I’m sorry. I did not know your ::insert name of relation here/tragedy:: but I am sorry you had to go through that.:: Is there anything I can do?” If it’s a serious thing, I stress how very sorry I am. I offer specific help, such as errand running or a meal or whatever. I try to tune into their emotions and if they need to talk, I let them. It’s soooo hard not to offer advice. Trust me, I want to. I just keep it to myself, usually. I mean I’m not perfect (much) but I really try to think before I speak in this one area of life.
Army Wife ~ Toughest Job In the Army! Or is it
Posted by: linr12 on: July 23, 2009
- In: Army Life
- 3 Comments
Have you ever seen this little ditty on a bumper sticker or t-shirt?
Do you ever wonder if it’s true? As an Army wife. I can do a comparison. Maybe we can figure it out together. Let’s begin, shall we?
While my husband was over in Iraq cruising Route Irish (also known as the Highway of Death) so nicknamed for it’s charming tendency to be littered with IEDs, in a Mine Resistant Ambush Protected vehicle (MRAP) sweating his ass off in up to 70 pounds of gear with a bunch of smelly guys, I was driving in my air conditioned four-door sedan. My biggest worry? Whether or not the jerk ahead of me was going to go the speed limit.
The 48,000 pound MRAP stuck in a ditch… oh but it’s ok, I’m sure they have AAA over there, right?
While my husband tossed and turned at night, missing his family, he could pull out a few pictures and look at us. Tracing the lines of our faces on photograph. While I tossed and turned at night missing my husband, I could snuggle our son and gaze down into a face so like his father’s it is comforting. I could trace the forehead and jaw so like his daddy’s that it had earned him the nickname of “Mini Sgt. R” by some of Gary’s soldiers.
(This picture was taken 30 minutes before Gary deployed to Iraq. The boys catch their last snooze together)
Last summer when it was over 100 degrees in Louisiana, I went from my air conditioned house, to my air conditioned car, to my air conditioned job. Gary went from his somewhat air conditioned room (shared with another soldier) to his not-very-at-all-air-conditioned-MRAP-wearing 70 pounds of gear. Then dismounted to go on foot patrol for six to eight hours wearing his 70 pounds of gear in 120 degree weather.
While he was deployed, I worked to pass the time. This is an actual picture I took while at work because I was so bored.
This is an actual picture taken while Gary’s at work. Funny, he doesn’t look so bored, does he?
These are a few very minor comparisons.
So, Army wife… toughest job in the Army? You decide.
The Shack
Posted by: linr12 on: July 21, 2009
I just finished reading the book “The Shack.” Critics have panned it for not being scripturally accurate. Who cares? The fact is, I got out of it what I needed.
One sentence resonated with me. I don’t know why. It’s something I’ve known for years. Yet for some reason, the way this author put it just hit me so deeply.
Mack and Jesus are having a conversation. Jesus says to Mack something along the lines of, “I did not die for just you, but if I did what a wonderful thing to have died for just you.”
On my lowest days, I remind myself that Jesus did not die for me, just me. Yet he feels that even if he did, that was wonderful. That I was worth going through all he suffered through.
Wow…Just.. WOW
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