Falling

It's finally happened. I have been forcing myself forward, staying insanely busy, and going going going until I crash at the end of the day too exhausted to feel anything but numbness. But today I had free time for the first time since a week before Alex left, and I finally realized that I'm not even nearly ok. I mean I am... sort of. I'm not going to have a mental breakdown or become catatonic. I'm surviving. But I've spent the day with my arms folded, my mind wandering, my eyes prickling, and my body taunt as a bowstring. I can't relax, because when I do, I start to cry. I miss my husband.

I had a dream last night of something normal... I don't remember what specifically, only that it was an average day with friends just spending time, and Alex was there. I dreamed he came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me like he does almost every day, holding me close as we talked about something unimportant. And then I woke up, and his arms weren't there: only blankets and sheets. It was devastating.

I've spent all day feeling an aching loneliness deep in my chest, so much that I hurt all over because I've been so tense and clammed up. I finally nailed down the feeling well enough to explain why I've been pushing so hard to get stuff done and be busy, and also why down time is absolutely excruciating and terrifying. It's just like the moment when you're running and you catch your foot on something. In that instant, your forward momentum threatens to force you into a face plant. Your adrenaline spikes, you stumble, but you try to run faster because you think that of you can just push ahead of the trip and catch up, you won't fall. I'm stuck in that split second. Emotionally, Alex leaving has tripped me. I'm stumbling forward, trying to catch my balance and desperate not to fall. But I can't stay that way. I've been running and running, trying so hard not to let myself fall apart because I HATE falling apart... but if I keep this up I'm going to make myself sick. So on the advice of several people that I trust, I'm just going to let it out. Please, no one worry. I just need to get all this out, and I'm sure soon I'll gain my balance again and I WILL be fine. I'll be happy and settled and I'll get my feet back under me, even though Alex is gone. But tonight, I've got to get all this weight off of my chest, because otherwise I'm going to lose it.

I feel like a failure. I only have two responsibilities while Alex is gone: manage the money, and be there for support. That's it. I don't have to work if I don't want to, because Alex makes more than enough. I just need to be there for him and make sure I hold down the fort. And this week I've completely failed at both. I'm ashamed of myself. I wasn't paying close attention, and I didn't manage our joint checking the careful way I usually do. I spent so much time trying to make sure I was getting stuff done and being busy that I didn't pay enough attention to how much it all cost and didn't keep in mind future costs, so this week I've been as tight as I think I've ever been trying to stretch money out to the end of the month. And it has made my promise to Alex to keep his phone card charged very difficult. I've been trying desperately to make sure I have enough gas in my tank, the right uniform for work, and Alex can still call home... And I've been doing it by myself. I can't stand asking for money and I won't do it now that I have no excuse, but usually Alex and I are both aware of what's going on and we work through the tighter spots together. Without him here, the frustration and embarrassment is so much worse, because I've been trying not to let him know since there's nothing he can do and I don't want him to worry about me or worse be upset with me. Not that I think he will. We've talked a little, so he's not completely in the dark, and he keeps reassuring me that it's all ok. I haven't been extravagant... there were a lot of costs to move. But I'm still furious with myself and embarrassed and a million other horrible feelings that are piling on top of the loneliness and making me half crazy. I know that by the end of next week it will all be better, and I have a couple credit cards to fall back on, but there's nothing like money trouble to stress you out. Like I needed that.

But that's only a part of it. The other half of my wifely responsibility is support. And I have been trying so hard! Every night I've diligently sent an email to him before bed. Often for as long as an hour, I've poured my heart out, making sure to chronicle my days and keep him up to speed, let him know what's going on here, and ending with at least a paragraph of encouragement and appreciation. Behind every word has been careful consideration to make him feel connected, loved, and appreciated every day, even on days he doesn't get to call home. But I had the wrong address, and my email program somehow didn't save a single one. Every carefully crafted letter has been sent out into the infinite void of the internet with an incorrect destination, and there isn't a record anywhere to send them again now that the error is realized. They are simply gone. Alex hasn't gotten one single email from me the entire time he's been gone. I wish there were words for me to explain the horror of realizing that he must have thought I was too busy for him now that he's not around.

So no emails, and no money in the bank for him to charge his own phone card with... but I could charge it with a different card and still keep my promise. He could still call home with money I send to that little piece of plastic if I could just shuffle finances around a bit. Except that AT&T outsources to India, and when you move, your billing address changes. So the person I spoke to didn't understand and couldn't figure out how to help me when NONE of my options were going through to reload his phone card. I almost started screaming at the guy when he told me for the fourth time, at midnight, "I'm sorry, you need to call your bank," instead of just listening to me and trying to enter my NEW zip code instead of my old one.

Alex finally found a way to buy a new phone card to call me using his personal bank card that he has with him, and we've pretty much figured out a system that will work until I get the zip code problem sorted out. But I doubt I have to explain why I'm stressed about the whole ordeal.

So I'm struggling. Alex tells me that I'm doing fine, and that it's all ok... and thankfully I've been able to answer every phone call. But with all this, plus juggling 3 jobs (working in my Dad's office, working for my good friend Sharon in her office, and starting to wait tables), I feel like any second I'm just going to collapse in a shaking, sobbing heap. I'm not even going to start on the new job waiting tables: this post is very long already and that's an entirely different level of anxiety. It's fast-paced, intense, and very draining, and I'm just hoping I can remember everything and settle in quickly because right now I'm overwhelmed with it. Everyone else says I'm doing great, but it's a huge amount of pressure to be perfect. I don't know what I was thinking. Or rather, how I could have NOT been thinking. But I'm hanging on.

My aunt Joan lost her husband this month. On Thursday, there will be a service honoring his memory and celebrating his life. And even though I would NEVER claim to feel what she feels exactly, because I know I'll see mine again sooner than it feels, the depth of her pain and the things that she feels echo through me in a familiar way. I've been combing through pictures, scanning the best for display during the service, and it's bittersweet. It's nice to have something tangible to do to help when there's so little I can do to make this better for her. But the sorrow makes me wish deeply that my own husband were here to help me. It's the kind of event that makes me want to reach out and touch him, put my hand on him to reassure myself that there's still a sense of stability in the world. It's hard not to let my thoughts turn toward that longer goodbye that I know we'll face someday, hopefully many years from now. His absence is so much keener when I'm feeling that way. But it's not my week to grieve, so burying myself in helping with this project is the best thing I could have done. Helping Joan and myself at the same time is one thing that doesn't stress me out.

Tomorrow I have nothing to do but work on those pictures, and I'm so relieved. I'm going to spend the day in peace and quiet, doing something to ease the burden for someone in more need than I. I'm also going to put my life a little back in order, cleaning and doing laundry and putting a little simple sanity back in where it's been set to the side. I need tomorrow more than I can even say. And the sooner I go to bed, the sooner it gets here, so I guess I should head that way. I just hope I have nightmares so I can be glad to wake up. I don't really want another good dream.