Monday, January 28, 2013

Out of control

I don’t remember how things got so out of control I wish I would have started writing sooner, taking notes or something to record the progress of events… As I sit here now and try to remember I can’t… I mean I remember the screaming, the nightmares, the panic attacks, the fights, the lies, the hiding, ofcourse I remember all that how could I ever forget but I don’t remember how it escalated… how it went from where we had it almost in an organized chaos to totally and completely out of control

Once we got to Ft Myer things were quiet for a bit, we were both on our best behaviors, both lying to ourselves, each other and everyone we came into contact with. I accepted the role of FRG leader for 289th MP CO and threw myself head long into that… Being in the light like that made me even more careful, made me pretend so well that everything was ok I almost believed it.

Things were at a controlled point for a while there and then the first shoe dropped.

We closed on our house on Sept 23rd and house hold goods arrived on Monday the 26th. I’m not good at moving I’ll be the first to admit that! I have no issue putting things away and organizing them but the boxes and paper everywhere makes me nuts!!! Josh was off that day, we put all the boxes in the upstairs living room and were moving them to where they belonged from there it was much more tiring then the last time I had moved, our last home was all on 1 level and had an attached garage which made moving so easy we just had the movers put all the boxes in the garage and the furniture where it belonged. Bring a box in, empty it, put the empty box and the paper back in the garage so there was no mess inside but this house was so different. We have stairs, lots of them! And the garage isn’t attached and has a dirt floor so it was more or less useless to us, thus how all the boxes ended up in the living room.

The next morning Josh went to work as normal and left me with the task of trying to do something with the mess all over our new house. I had stayed up late the night before so it wasn’t til around 10 or 11 that I woke up, I called him as soon as I woke and asked what he was up to expecting him to tell me about training but I was VERY wrong.

He was in the hospital, he was bit by one of the dogs and it was pretty bad. I asked him if I should head over there and he said no that everything was under control and to just pick him up at the kennels in about an hour once he was released so I agreed I was totally calm til I found out the rest of the story.  He had been at the hospital for hours, and the bit wasn’t just a bite it was a partial amputation, Oh yeah and he called my dad as he was on his way to the hospital to say “Don’t tell Sher BUT…” I lost my shit to say the least!

He says he didn’t tell me because he didn’t want to worry me or scare me but it hurt more that he didn’t tell… I felt that for the past year and a half I wasn’t able to care for him when he was sick or injured and needed me because he was deployed and now here he was at a hospital 20 miles away and wouldn’t let me be there to hold his hand? That was far more stressful.  We fought that night pretty bad and ended up agreeing that from that night on he would never lie to me again. When it was medical, he would turn to me.  He then reminded me of the POA he had signed before deployment which stated that I had full medical POA for him.

That day was the beginning of the end if you ask me. It was the first time that the cracks in our story started to show, it was the first time I wasn’t able to keep the “Crazy” within our house. That scared the crap out of me.

His nightmares and mood swings began getting worse at this point and I would call his therapist and ask for help or ask her if she had any advice on things I could do to help him and she would blow me off. I have since read though his medical record front to back and in this time, he had admitted to being suicidal 13 different times and she never did anything at all.

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