I do better with a plan. If have this vague illusion of control, something in me quiets and relaxes. That’s not to say that during a deployment everything goes according to said plan. Heck, our last deployment was a year of triage after disasters. But if tell myself “these are the goals,” I can focus on something other than the pit in my stomach of his impending departure.
This isn’t the first time I’ve done this. Right before Deployment number 3, I made myself a few promises right around the same time frame. But this time, though my heart is with those original promises, especially about sleeping in the center of the bed, my primary goal is different.
Deployment Number 4 Goal: Don’t lose my shit.
Sorry for the swearing, but there it is. My entire goal is to keep it together. Seems pretty simple, right? It doesn’t feel simple.
This weekend we had our farewell party for the company (I’ll write up that post another day, you know, after I clean up the various sticky messes). I said goodbye to one of our great friends, The Mad Painter’s husband, because he’s leaving… well, soon. Everything is coming down to days now, and it’s almost like this panic attack is waiting to take me down. As much as I know this is the life we signed up for, I can only think of one small fact: I don’t want to do this again. But since that isn’t an option, I’m making this deployment about ME.
I’m not going to lose my shit this deployment because I’m going to become the best version of myself that I can. Sure, Jason deserves it. The kids deserve it. But mostly, I deserve it. Let’s face it. Jason isn’t around as much as I’d like him to be, so the person that needs to be the happiest with me, is ME. So here we go with the mini-goals, the things that will help me not lose my shit.
I promise to cut out the processed foods. Stop laughing. I mean it. Jason’s not here to bring home the dunkin donuts, so this is my chance to empty the house of crap and get a clean-food menu going. When he gets home, he’ll get used to it. Muwahahahahaha… insert evil scientist laugh HERE.
I promise to set a schedule. I’ve always been a schedule person, but now that I’m writing full-time, I need to rock the house-running and writing hours.
I promise to stay on top of everything. No triaging like last time. Seriously. Since I’m not cake decorating any more, I’m hoping this is actually attainable. Watch out laundry pile, you’ve been warned.
I promise to keep the wallowing to a minimum. I’ll give myself the customary 2 days at the beginning of deployment, and maybe 1 free-pass day a month, but other than that, my big-girl panties are ready. I may pick up a case of wine to make this attainable. Maybe 2 cases.
I promise to purge the negative: Negative people, negative energy, negative stuff. I hold on to way too much of all three, and I can’t afford to let it drag me down any more. Closet, you’re on notice.
I promise to look forward. I will not get stuck in the deployment rut (yeah right, but this is a goal). I will make home improvements, garden, paint, plan vacations for when he gets home. I will not dwell on the months that separate us, but rather the look on his face when he sees I managed something on my own. PLEASE be a good look. Jason, there’s a reason I asked you to leave down the drill and power sander. 😉
I promise to call the handy-man when I get in over my head. Enough said. Maybe I’ll add him to my speed dial so even Aaron can call.
I promise not to let the kids feel this year is wasted. I will take them to do things, and we will miss Jason, but we will not become some stagnant pond, infested with bugs and malaria. Well, that was a powerful visual, but you get the point. He’s gone, we’re sad, but we’re going to make the best of it. If not, we’d spend our whole lives waiting for him to come home, and that’s no way to live a childhood.
I promise to use the tread mill. Why? Because… THIS. My best friend is still riding me about this half marathon, and I haven’t convinced her that she’s lost her fool mind.
I promise NOT TO LOSE MY SHIT. When things are bugging me, I’m going to move on. Work on it if I can change it, and if not, then let it go. Nothing is worth going insane over. Jason, it would help this goal if you could refrain from taking bullets in your aircraft. No, seriously.
I promise to write, and write, and write some more. Not only for my career, but for my sanity.
I promise to laugh at the bad days, so be prepared for more .gif blogs like “Stupid Freaking Deployment Gnome.” I will not be afraid to smile through the good days, or feel like I’m betraying Jason for having fun while he’s gone. The man wants me to be happy, not miserable.
Yes. Attainable. I can do this. We can do this.
Oh, and I promise to make the most of every minute we have together until he gets on that plane.
Deployment number four, I’m ready to kick your… yeah.