Christina Piper
She reminded me that there are times to sit and have that pity party but most of the time you just have to put one foot forward and try to land the other one without falling. That the more you let yourself wallow in the suck the harder it is going to be to get out. And I agree.
I do however think that there are two distinct lines that you have to stay between to make it through a deployment. First, you can’t just hide under the covers and wish for it to go away. You can’t wrap yourself in the terror and fear and not function for a year, give or take a few months. Second, and maybe even more important, you can’t ignore those feelings either. I think that when we do this we are doing ourselves a disservice. If we ignore these feelings they do not go away; they harden us and may rip us apart when we least expect it. They will eat at us until we are too exhausted to fight them anymore.
So, what do we do? There has to be a balance between the all encompassing fight to survive and the hardcore drive on attitude that doesn’t let anything in.
How do we find that balance? How do those that are so emotionally driven find the ability to put up a few bricks and how do those of us that are so unemotional find the ability to let some fall?
How do we meet in the middle and support one another without saying “pull up those big girl panties” and “quit being a stone cold B**** and let someone in?” Some of us wear our emotions on our selves while others hide them behind so much armor that it would take an army to penetrate it. Neither is wrong but neither is extremely helpful either.
My suggestion is to acknowledge that there is more than one way to survive a deployment, re-deployment, and pre-deployment, and we do what we have to do to make it through. That there are as many ways as there are people going through them. And in offering understand we draw ourselves out of our extremes, and gain the ability to reach that middle functioning area.
When we admit where we suck we can take steps to fix it. When we recognize that not all people are capable of our extreme walls or extreme emotions, we can find away to borrow from both styles and walk the tight rope in between. We can still protect ourselves while not ignoring our emotions.
I tend to put up walls that can compete with the Great Wall of China. (I do believe that you can see my walls from space.) But never have I felt less burdened then when I admit to someone that I am having a hard time, even if that someone is just me. When I say “I know that you can not do anything to make this better but I am not doing OK.” I feel less alone, less scared, and more capable of moving forward.
On the other extreme when I am told by my more emotional friends, “I just need to tell someone how bad I am doing but tomorrow I will take a step,” I am more able to listen because I don’t have to carry their weight too. I am able to hold it for a few minutes knowing that they will reclaim it and I can allow them that time to express themselves without judgment.
I think as long as we are moving forward, and not hiding too much, or wallowing too deep, we can start healing. I think that to move forward we may need to walk in the middle, on that tightrope, and when we fall to either side we just need to reach a hand out to all of the others going through the same thing.
