Hindsight is most definitely 20/20

I found this in my e-mails. I wrote it well over a year ago. It's amazing how we sense change so long before it comes...how our insides know what we need long before our heads catch up...

It is hard to describe. This feeling I have been trying to shake for days now.

Somewhere between the knowledge of something being off and the complete incomprehension of what it is.

It’s frustrating, unnerving. It makes me feel the way I did in dreams I had as a kid. The dreams when I couldn’t find my way home. When no-one recognized me. When I could barely open my eyes but knew there was something I needed to see.

It’s more than melancholy, more than hormones. It’s something deeper, something less about me and more about paying attention, about changes.

So much of my process has been letting go, leaving it up to something bigger. What if that isn’t necessarily the way it has to go. What if giving up too much allows us to blow off course just that bit too far. Off the beaten path into the forest that one step too far to where the light can barely get through and you are struggling not just to move forward but to see at all. 

Quicksand is a good description. Funny, it’s never ‘feeling stuck in Marshmallow or puffy clouds’, nope, quicksand, knee deep.

I want to be at home. Be with him, with the boys. But who is that girl? Carrie? No way. Feelings shift much easier than perceptions, than ideas. Before we know it we are somewhere in our hearts that is miles away from our head. Can I catch up? I am trying to figure out why that is even a question I have to ask. Have I been so sucked into this person I am supposed to be that who I am doesn’t stand a chance? People can change right? Everyone always says that. How come no one believes it? Why don’t I?

I’m scared nothing will even be enough to sate the insatiable. That is who I am, isn’t it? The insatiable Carrie. Like some dinosaur from Jurassic Park that can eat and eat and eat and still have the time and energy to chase the poor humans just for a snack.

Someone close the park please, I’m tired.

Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right, here I am....

Yup, stuck in the middle. This post isn't so much about my military wife life as it is about my life in general. I am the middle child....it sucks. I am not sure how many of you reading are the middle as well but if you are then you know what I mean. I am also the only girl. So here I am, here I have been my whole life, stuck in the middle. I love my brothers, love them to absolute pieces but sometimes they make my life miserable and they have no clue they are doing it. I guess that is one of the crosses to bear in the middle, complete awareness.

I will say that being the middle kid probably made me more independent and therefore much better equipped to deal with life as a military wife but I also find that adding the military life craziness and unpredictability to already being the middle kid makes me feel much more often like I am left out.
As I write this I know how lucky I am, I have amazing parents who have been married for 35 years, my brothers are great and have great ladies in their lives that I love very much but man oh man do they make it tough sometimes.

As the only girl I have always kind of taken care of them. My doing, completely. You need help with money, of course I will help you....you need me, of course I will drop everything and come...you have an issue or a problem, of course I will be there to help or keep your secrets....of course, of course, of course.

Sometimes I really just feel like I fade into the background. Or the whole "she won't mind/doesn't need it" comes into play. Part of that is definitely my independent nature and entirely my fault. I don't ask for help very often, most of the time I don't need or particularly want it but I guess it would be nice for it to be offered every once in awhile.

The "P" word.

Finding our worth is a huge part of being a military wife. We can never compete with what our husbands do. They have devoted their lives to the protection of our country and it's people, we have devoted our lives to them. What that means varies for each of us. Our lives often times become about our husbands. Not because they ask that of us but because its what happens, necessity if you will.
The problem with this is that sometimes we forget who we are without them. We get so wrapped up in the military world, in their schedules, in their needs, that we forget. And when we get to new places that are "remote" and we don't have jobs or things to keep the connection to ourselves,a very strange thing happens....I think I'll call it the Stepford effect. Life becomes about the "P" word.....Perfection.
We begin to feel that we have to be perfect. The house has to look perfect. Dinner has to be perfect. Clothes must be washed, folded and put away perfect. We do this to ourselves. No one asked us to be perfect but how can we not be? How can we not be when we aren't doing much else??? How can we justify a lazy day? How can we justify him coming home to a messy house.....to no dinner?
Here's the thing, this thought process is evil. It does more to tear down our confidence and self-worth that any amount of "good job" or "looks nice" can EVER build. It's self-sabotage.
Just being there for our husbands is enough. Loving them, talking to them, letting them vent, being there when they come home....those are the things they NEED, that is what we signed up for when we said "I do".
They don't care if we are perfect. They love us in our sweats, no make-up, putting a frozen pizza in the oven. We just have to remember to love ourselves that way too.