A little disappointed

I made sure my hubby knew that we had a bit of extra money because his check was double what we planned for. I was hoping we would do something special or that he would get me something tiny like a fake flower or something. It was just like every other day. I should back track a bit. His birthday is at the end of this month. Since we didn't have money he said he wanted a joint Valentine's/Birthday gift. That gift was something in World of Warcraft that I had to work really hard to get for him but I did it because I wanted to get him something he really wanted. He was really happy so I was glad. Back to my point. I sent him to the store to get some cat and dog food, kind of hoping he would pick up candy or wine or something for me. He came home with the cat and dog food and beer. I had cleaned the house, did dishes, taken out the trash. He never said thank you. I don't always need to hear that and I know I sound like a B**** but it's Valentine's Day. I wanted something, anything. He cooked dinner, which is normal because I'm an awful cook. It was a simple shake and bake with corn. I thanked him for it. It took me saying Happy Valentine's Day to him for him to even really remember it was that day. It marks us being married for 4 1/2 years exactly. He isn't going to be home for our 5 year anniversary because he'll be in Basic training. He's also going to miss my birthday because of AIT. I just wanted something special, even a little 'thank you' for cleaning up the mess he refuses to acknowledge. I'm sorry. I know I sound selfish but I just want some reciprocation of the appreciation. So, tomorrow I'm going to go get myself something to cheer me up. I can't go up to Bald Rock because the road is closed so no picture taking. Maybe I'll just go get some stupid yarn and knit my emotions away. Heck I'll go do that now since he's watching his tv show that I really can't get into though I've tried. I swear I'm putting out the effort to spend as much time together. I just feel like he doesn't even care. I just get lectured about being careful with money, though I'm the one in charge of all of the finances. Gah, I'm just making myself feel worse. Anyway. Happy Valentine's Day to the few of you that read this.

So I had a bit of a breakdown today

We're short on money. Like really short. My hubby isn't getting loads because of the snow so there's no money coming in. That's not stopping us from having bills. The snow is also causing our gas bill to skyrocket because this house isn't properly insulated. Another problem is we don't have the money to insulate it to cut down the gas bill. I can't find a job either. I was going to hand out my resume to a couple places today but everything was shutting down due to "eminent weather". My father-in-law then had to lecture us about how to make a budget and that we should go see a financial adviser. At least he admitted that he really had no place lecturing us because he's almost as bad as us, he just has money in savings accounts and we never have the chance to add to ours. I'm smoking too much again. It's almost a pack a day. I know it does nothing for me but I like to imagine the nicotine helps a little. Oh well. Guess that's the end of this rant.

Bad Mood

I know I shouldn't put super personal stuff out on the internet but I just need to vent. We don't have enough money to cover bills this month. We didn't last month either. We had to ask my father-in-law for $600 last month. To make it worse I just found our garbage bill that is already a month late and it's another $60 that we won't have. My husbands check needs to be at least $600 this week to cover everything and I doubt it will even come close to that. Then the second I woke up, after a night of no sleep because him and the dog hogging the bed, he instantly said we needed to clean the house. So I spent the last hour cleaning the office, dining room, sweeping the kitchen, and cleaning a bit of the living room. I just can't do this anymore. I'm sick of being an adult. I want to go make a fort and cry in it.

Loss

                  Raelynn, Rae to most, sat on her front porch swing listening to the silence of the night. The night was overwhelmingly dark. The moon was full but seemed so far away. The stars were few and far between. The streetlights seemed even dimmer than usual, leaving large and gaping shadows down the road. The darkness let the heartache she had been hiding finally surface. A single tear slid down her cheek as she realized she was truly alone. Her husband was gone. It wasn't just some nightmare to wake up from. She knew that if she walked back into the house and into her bedroom, he wouldn't be there sound asleep like many of her sleepless nights before. He wouldn't be coming home. No one really knew what had actually happened either. This only made it that much harder to accept. The official report said he had a heart attack while driving and crashed his truck. She didn't want to believe it. He was too young to have a heart attack, and he didn't have a history of heart problems. He was in perfect health as far as she knew. The longer she thought about it, the more tears fell. She pulled her sweater tighter around herself, using it as a security blanket. She had never planned for something like this. She hadn't seen herself ever being alone again. When they met, they were inseparable. When she married, she believed it would be her one and only marriage. She saw them having children, raising them, and growing old together. She thought they would pass of old age one shortly after the other, not one leaving so early. She sobbed into her sweater wondering why he had been taken from her, leaving her so alone. Without a plan, she didn't know what to do with herself.

                  The insurance had covered everything and she was unemployed. There were no children or pets to take care of. No family lived near her, not that she really got along with much of her family. Her friends were all states away and she had no plan to return to her hometown. She had nothing there anyway. Any friends she had where she lived had been friends of her late husband. Now those friends had distanced themselves from her. She began to cry even harder, not caring if a neighbor heard. It was unlikely that anyone would hear her at such a late hour. Most of her neighborhood went quiet around 8. It was now a quarter after 1 in the morning. She cried until the tears wouldn't come anymore. She had thought about taking her own life, more than once, but she just couldn't seem to bring herself to do it. Once or twice she had tried to overdose, but she still woke up in the morning only to start crying again. She had no idea what to do.

                  After the funeral, family had given halfhearted offers of support but quickly shut themselves off from her. Some expected her to just get up and move on. She couldn't understand how. Others just offered their condolences and left. When her husband was laid to rest, she felt a part of herself die with him. There was nothing that could fill that void in her heart and soul. When he was alive they had told each other that they would want the other to move on and find someone else to love them, but now that he was gone she couldn't fathom doing so. She was broken, shattered to her core.

                  As her tears subsided, she tried to think of what to do. She didn't want to go to bed, all she dreamed of was him, but her body was exhausted. She thought about sleeping in the living room again, like she had every night since the funeral a week prior, but the couch was starting to get uncomfortable. Plus the clock slowly ticking away the minutes was getting unnerving. Finally, she resigned herself to go and try and sleep in her own bed.

                  The house was quiet other than the ticking of the clock in the living room. She waked over to it and pulled it from the wall. After removing the battery from it, she threw it across the room. Like many times in the last week, her hurt and sadness turned to anger. She didn't know who or what she was mad at but she still felt the anger. She assumed it was just part of the grieving process. At least that's what her counselor had told her. She had been seeing a counselor before her husband's accident, now she was seeing her more often. Her counselor worried that she wasn't grieving properly and that she might try something stupid. Every time she saw her counselor, she put on a facade. She acted like she was healing and getting better, when in all reality she was losing her grip on reality. Her biggest fear was ending up on the 5^th floor of the hospital so she lied and smiled and acted like things were getting better. Still most nights were like this one with her outside smoking or crying, sometimes doing both.

                  When she entered her bedroom, she was surprised. She was expecting the pain and tears to come back but all she felt was a numbness. All of his things had been packed up by his family. Well, by his sister Kate. Kate had seemed to understand how hard this was going to be on her so she took care of it while Rae sat outside smoking. Rae had told Kate what to leave and what to take wherever she wanted. His clothing was gone, along with his books and most small things. The only things left were his ring on a necklace, a pocket watch he had gotten as a anniversary gift, and a hat he had gotten but she had worn more often. As she looked around the room she made a decision. She grabbed two suitcases and put a couple outfits and her more prized possessions in them. She put her notebooks in a tote as well. She put all of these in the trunk of her car. She left out one outfit for the next day and crawled into bed.

                  Seconds passed but it felt like hours. Another clock in the house was ticking, she had forgotten about the one in the kitchen. She tried to ignore it and fall asleep. After several minutes she gave up and took a few sleeping pills, knowing they would just barely help her get to sleep. After 20 minutes the sleeping pills worked their magic and she slid into a deep sleep.

                  It was a familiar scene. She was standing in her living room. Her husband was sitting on the couch wearing a suit as if he was getting ready to go out. She stared at him for a moment before she found her words.

                  “Adam, why did you have to leave me?” Pain filled every word.

                  “I'm so sorry Rae. It was my time. I never wanted to leave you.” She was taken aback by his response. Usually he didn't say anything or he would try to convince her that he hadn't gone anywhere, that he was still there.

                  “What am I supposed to do now?”

                  “You already chose what to do. That's what the bags in the car are for aren't they?” He said knowingly.

                  “But where am I supposed to go? I'm just running. That's the only thing I know to do, just run. But I don't know where to run to, what to do when I get there.” She started crying once again. He beckoned her to sit next to him. Slowly she made her way next to him. He hugged her tight. He felt so real, so solid, nothing like her other dreams.

                  “You'll find your way. You always do. You're stronger than you think you are, love.” He said softly into her hair as he kissed the top of her head.

                  “This isn't how things are supposed to be. We were supposed to grow old together.” She sobbed.

                  “I know, but we don't get to choose when our time is up. Mine was just up sooner than expected.” He explained.

                  “I don't want to go on without you.” She whimpered.

                  “You have to. You have so much more to do with your life. There's big plans for you.”

                  “What do you mean?”

                  “I can't say anymore. Heck, I wasn't even supposed to be able to see you again. Once you cross over, you stop worrying about your loved ones. All sense of time is gone.”

                  “Then why are you here?”

                  “You weren't moving on like you were supposed to. I'm here to give you some closure, to let you know that you have to move on. You have a long and full life ahead of you. You can't dwell on this. It'll only ruin you. I don't want you to do that to yourself. I want you to be happy. Always remember that. I love you and I always will.”

                  “I love you too.”

                  “I have to go sweetheart, and you have to wake up. Be strong, for the both of us.”

                  “Please, don't go.” She begged.

                  “I'm sorry, but I have to. Now go and live your wonderful life.” He faded away and she cried harder.

                  She bolted upright in her bed. Tears stained her cheeks and pillow.

The Urge

She sat, crying alone, in her bedroom. The small bed felt like an ocean swallowing her whole. The emptiness and hurt grew inside her, filling her, crushing her. Her husband slept quietly on the couch in the living room, just a thin wall separating the two. Still, he didn't hear her sobs, her crying out for comfort. She had tried to get him to come to bed, begged him several times. Finally she gave him the ultimatum of either coming to bed or sleeping on the couch. He chose the couch. Her heart sank, wishing he would choose to be near her. She stormed off to her room and sat on the bed. The notebooks in front of her were daunting. At first she had planned to write while he slept, now all inspiration had left her. The numbness gave way to anger. Anger that he would choose the uncomfortable couch. Anger that she would once again be sleeping alone. Anger that she had no one to turn to and confide in. She took medicine hoping it would help. Triple the dose of Klonopin, 4x the dose of her sleeping pill, twice the dose of her antidepressant. She waited for them to kick in but they weren't doing anything for her. Still there was one thing, one bad habit she had tried so hard to avoid, that she could turn to. The blade. It had been almost two months since she had turned to her 'old friend' to make the pain stop. As the pain built, she stopped caring about being clean. She didn't care about the repercussions, the disappointment from her counselor. She needed comfort and that was the only thing she knew to turn to. She found her old box hidden in the back of the closet. All of the necessary tools were there. The blade, the washcloth, the hand sanitizer, the bandages. She paused for a moment, trying to think of anything else to help but there was nothing. She cleaned her skin, then the blade. Slowly she slid the glinting metal across her pale skin. There was a prick of pain but nothing more. No release like many times before. She cleaned the cut, still no pain. She scratched the cut, needing to see the blood, needing something to make her feel alive. Finally a thin line of red appeared. She continued to stretch the skin until more blood came up. It wasn't enough but she cleaned the wound and stopped the bleeding. After putting her tools under the bed, within reach if she should need them again, she went back to the notebooks. Still there was no inspiration, no urge to even try to review and edit her book. Frustratedly, she stormed into her study and lit up a cigarette. Nothing was going to calm this pain and anger.

Creativity

I found a website that has a lot of good writing prompts. I think I'll start writing them every couple days and maybe posting them on here and on my deviantart account. (Ravendarkstar) I think it would help me a lot to give my characters (from the book I'm writing) some more depth and personality. A friend read the first two chapters and he really loved it. I'm excited and nervous to start editing it then sending it off to publishers. I poured my heart and soul into that book and I'm scared of what others will think of it. But as my counselor said, There's nothing to lose from trying. Oh well. Just a little update.

Rough Night

Backstory:


My hubby decided that he wants to join the Army National Guard. He went through MEPS and got cleared. He was going to swear in that day (last Tuesday) but the base shut down from the freak snow storm down here in the south. He's going back Thursday and Friday to get sworn in and sign his contract. He's wanted to do something like this all his life.


Now to explain my title:


I found out tonight that Basic Training is 10 weeks, AIT is another 6 weeks, then he has to go to jump school. I may get lucky and get a week or weekend between Basic and AIT but it's not a guarantee. I haven't been away from him anywhere near that long. Before I went to Michigan State University to be with him, I would see him on the weekends (whether it was him coming home or me going to visit). When he did over the road trucking, The longest he was gone was two weeks. Then he started driving local. That means he got home every night, well except for the one night he ran out of hours and had to stay in a hotel over night. I got used to him being gone for a week then getting 2 days with him before he left again. Now I see him every day. It's going to be rough on me having him gone for 4 months. I'm not sure if I'm really ready for this.

To make it harder, I don't have a job yet and I don't really have friends down here. I still talk to my ex boss once a month or so. When hubby was over the road, I had school to deal with. I just finished my associates degree. I'll graduate May 8 or 9 and I'm worried that I won't have anyone there for me. One friend up in Michigan says she's going to try really hard to come down. My mom didn't say either way and my dad said he would "try his hardest" which equates to "I should come down but I probably won't and come up with some excuse." I won't be able to throw myself into school until August, and that's assuming I get enough scholarships to cover tuition and books.

I'm just feeling so isolated. I'm happy that my hubby is doing what makes him truly happy. I really do. I hate seeing him come home from work in a fowl mood because of the way he's treated. I feel awful that he gets up as early as 1-2am to get going, especially for such crap pay. He's hoping that he'll get a job offer after he finishes Basic and AIT. If he doesn't, he might consider going full active duty. I asked if he wanted to do that. I guess I surprised him because the last time we discussed military, I was 19 and we had just got married. It scared the crap out of me. Now, I'm more concerned with his happiness than my petty fears. I just wish I had a better support network.

I've been crying for about an hour now. I had to take my crying into the study so he can't hear me. He's out cold on the bed with our dog. I don't want to let him see me cry. I don't want to stress him at all if possible. This will be good for us, I just don't know if I've fully grasped what it will all mean. I think this is the first time I've really let myself cry over it all. And I don't even know what I'm crying about.


On a good note:

I've been SI free for 35 days. I counted Jan 1 as my starting over point. It's not that I haven't thought about it, I've just been able to control the urges. I've picked up knitting to keep my hands busy. I'm working on a blanket for all those nights of insomnia that I'll spend out on the porch this summer. I do whatever I can to keep busy. I do stained glass for girls in my group, I made my "group mom" a scarf that I thought was a little short but it fits her perfectly. I'm hoping I can throw myself into knitting and stained glass.


Another thing causing me stress:

My student loans are needing payment because I couldn't take classes this semester. All of the stupid legal jargon is just so frustrating trying to figure it all out. I'm just so done with this crap tonight. My eyes are burning from staring at this computer so long and crying.


Peace out.