Do you know where my husband is?

  I have seemed to misplace him yet again. Oh no, wait. I think his travel system sent me an email telling me where he is a few weeks ago. I’m so not even kidding….

There are two things that no matter what I seem to do, I just can’t make any real progress on.

One: Anger

Two: My fear of abandonment


Let me tell you how these two love to play together. It’s making me miserable. I had never gotten angry before. Honest! Ask people that have known me for years. I had a friend once who was fond of telling me how there was something really wrong with me because I never got angry. You want to know what finally pushed me over the edge? My priest’s cilantro. He hates cilantro with a passion that I thought was only reserved for the devil. Nope, he abhors cilantro. So somehow connecting cilantro and my problem, he decided that I had every right to be angry, too. Well I guess it took an male authority figure giving me permission to finally become angry. But I didn’t just become angry, I became vengeful because I was pissed off about being abandoned (see fear of abandonment) by Greg when he decided to stay in Iraq instead of coming home to me. There was a pretty long period of time where I did whatever I wanted and didn’t care what he thought. It was kinda messy as you might know if you’ve read older blog entries. Since then things have changed some and I’ve worked on the issue of not hating his guts and I’ve actually become pretty fond of the guy. But every time he leaves, I lose it. It’s a huge trigger for me. I one way or another lose it immediately after he leaves for the airport. I had been becoming vengeful and hateful. I didn’t care about him or his feelings or his opinions. In short I was being a super bitch, but for a number of reasons I have gotten better about that. When he left this time, I was crushed and felt like a little scared kid. I felt sad and depressed and alone. I didn’t want to hurt him. I was feeling too hurt myself. So I used my iPhone journal app. and wrote this:


The quiet is deafening.

My heart feels like its been shoved up into my throat.

My pulse thumps in every inch of my face.

The panic is welling up inside of me.

I’m agitated and alone.

Tears are pushing at the back of my eyeballs.

I feel like I’m generating my own heat.

I take big heaving breaths trying to calm the impending fury.

I must push through all of this.

There is no one to rescue me and I must be strong.

I have to protect myself now.

There’s to corners to cut, no tricks, no back up plans.

There’s just me.

Me breathing deeply.


I’d actually recovered nicely a few hours after that. Then today I got a damn travel system email informing me he’d be in Seattle for I week, so now I’m triggered and I’m back to being pretty freaking angry. Sorry that this post isn’t funny, but some days, as my mom says, just bite.


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