I am not great at making new friends. Pretty horrible at it, in my own opinion. I'm an oddball- no mainstream fish. A family member once joked that I'm that crayon that looks green, but then writes yellow- as a child, I hated that crayon. Whenever it'd write yellow on my paper, I'd get irritated and put it back. After a while I'd toss it out of the box completely because I was tired of it funking up my colouring books. I doubt that was her intention behind the statement, but when I thought about it, that's how I took it. I'm not most people's cup of tea. I'm an acquired taste (like when you order a drink for the first time, sip it and go BLECH! Ugh! This tastes funky! But then some people go back for more sips anyway and decide later they like it after all). However, I've come to "belong" (I like putting it that way) to a few who find my unfiltered mouth, my inappropriate brain and my inability to comprehend sarcasm, catch onto social cues and common sense adorable. How, I'll never know. The majority of them have been friends with me since we were the Kiddo's age- when nobody was weirded out by anybody- and they grew to love me as I am. The remaining few just happen to be as strange as I am, with no room to judge. Habibi would be one of those remaining few. He acknowledges my behavior and habits, loves me all the same.
Unfortunately, none of these friends could come with us when we PCS'd here to Bliss; leaving me to my biggest worry of all- having no one. Unlike most wives, I didn't join the FRG. I don't want to go to meetings. I don't really attend the post events. I didn't want to live in post housing. My experiences with people, especially in large groups in social settings, have never been good even with my best efforts. Even Habibi seems to share some anxiety for me when we're thrown into social things.
When we PCS'd here, Habibi introduced me to what I've heard many wives (and their husbands) refer to as a "default friend"; the wife of a friend your husband makes. They're friends, hence you and the wife become friends (doesn't always happen, but that's the idea behind it). He was pretty confident that she and her husband both would be open and accepting to me. They have been, and they're lots of fun to hang out with. But at the same time I feel as though I've been interjected into their lives. This wife has her own friends and does lots of things- always busy and involved. I often end up feeling like it's not a mix I really belong in. I'm on the outside while being inside, if that makes sense. Habibi and I both thought maybe it was an initial feeling- just anxiety- and that over time it would go away. But even six months into Bliss, it was still feeling the same.
But recently, I took a little jump I hadn't even expected or meant to happen.
I frequent many online pages and groups for Wives and Families stationed at Fort Bliss. I don't really post (unless there's a question I can answer), but I watch. I lurk. On a daily basis I see women post things- seeking advice, looking for help, looking for others with like minds, offering their own advice... and often times I see them met with hateful, ignorant and/or judgmental responses... Other wives telling them they're stupid, reckless, inappropriate and judging their situations as though it were posted for a debate. On and on. I felt sorry for these women, not being met with open minds and arms. Especially since we're all supposed to be here supporting one another... right? I mean, that's what they say. "We're Army Wives. We're supposed to stick together... but you're stupid and your lifestyle is disgusting..." See how wrong that sounds?
Anyway, I found myself creating a place for these women. A place where they could vent their frustrations, talk about anything they like without boundaries and be met with acceptance, advice and open minds. None of that "this is right and wrong", "that's disgusting", "I would NEVER..." or anything. Just encouragement and understanding. In a matter of weeks I began to open up, myself.
We've slowly begun stepping out from behind our computers to meet with each other. A few of the gals have my number, now, and we text frequently. I still battle with social anxiety, even with these women- but I also feel a swell of happiness and I relax somewhat knowing they don't care, they still think I'm awesomely fun. At this point I think if I had tourettes and screamed random obscenities they wouldn't give a damn. And I can honestly say I wouldn't either if they did the same. They're great women; strong, offbeat, with their own special circumstances and particular lifestyles.
I never imagined I would make these friends- make any friends, really. But for the first time since PCSing here, I don't feel so terrified of living alone out here through my first deployment with no one.
NTC. Ugh. An acronym to be dreaded. The boys leave for an entire month of training in the desert while the women stay behind to fend for themselves. When Habibi first told me about it, I said "No problem!" After all, we'd spent a year apart when he trained in the Navy, and six months apart when he went to WTC and then AIT with the Army. 30 days? Pssssssshhhhh.
Well, at least that's what I thought. What I didn't consider was that both of the previous times, I was still in my home-state, surrounded by home-friends, family and home-food. He may have been gone for a long time, but I wasn't alone. This time it was only 30 days, but in a new place, by myself, with a crazy 5 year old. Cabin fever caught up with me pretty quick and within days I thought I would die without adult conversation. Of course now I know where I went wrong; I had no game plan.
EVERY WIFE needs a game plan and I'm glad I realized this before deployment. When you're back home surrounded by familiarity- well... you don't really have to have a game plan. You can pretty much go with the regular, every day flow. But when you're in a new place where you don't know many people and don't get out much (and you're facing insanity), it's probably a good idea.
Instead, I spent the entire four weeks writing letters, paying bills, budgeting money, making grocery lists, stressing about Habibi being gone and things I'd have to take care of by myself and more things once he got back... and, well, that was pretty much ALL I did. I felt like I was surviving instead of just living. It wasn't a healthy mode to be in. I think if we didn't have Easter the the Kiddo's 5th birthday, I'd have probably lived in my bed (or couch, really... For some odd reason I couldn't stand sleeping in our bed the whole time he was gone. Never done that before and felt weird about it. Even stranger, the Kiddo- who still cosleeps with us a majority of the time- didn't want to sleep with me at all the entire time, either.)
The most eventful it got, really, was Easter weekend. First we got huge Easter Bunny care packages from my Mom and Grannie, which the Kiddo tore through immediately (it looked like a serial killer broke into the house and murdered the Easter Bunny all over my livingroom) then we packed a small suitcase and spent the weekend at his best friend's house, complete with friends coming over, egg dying, baskets from us (the Moms), a good old-fashioned egg hunt and ending with waking up to bunny baskets on Easter morning.
That following Tuesday, the Kiddo turned 5. After sending out a note to everyone on my facebook in March about not having his Daddy around for the big day, birthday cards began pouring in throughout the entire month from everyone all over. We collected them and pinned them to the giant blank wall in our livingroom (nicknamed "The Birthday Wall").
I let him open presents (sent by family members) and we walked down to his favourite place to eat- Chilis- using a gift card sent by a friend in one of the birthday cards. It was less than awesome compared to our usual birthday routines in the past, though Chuug was very happy and content with how things went down. Bless him, because had he been a ten year old he'd have probably kvetched and whined about the whole do-nothingness.
Now I look back on those four weeks and think UGH! There was SO MUCH MORE I could have done! Not just for the Kiddo's birthday, but in general. I could have made myself promise to run on my elliptical for at least 30 minutes a day, every single day Habibi was gone. I could have opened that ginormous latch-hook kit I bought last year and finally did it. I could have done a "picture-a-day-while-you-were-away" album on facebook. I could have practiced new recipes to make for when he came home. I could have de-cluttered our big utility closet. I could have made paintings or worked on sketching up new tattoo ideas to get someday. Hell, I could have taught myself how to play Habibi's guitar! Hundreds of opportunities just flew out the window in those four weeks- all because I didn't make a game plan. I was too busy focusing on things like remembering the bills, waiting for the mailman, waiting on the maintenance man, dealing with insomnia, figuring out which groceries to get and how much to spend, would I be able to fill Chuug's Easter basket... Sure, those are all important things. But they were ALL I thought about and ALL I did.
Anyway, so now I've begun working on a "Game Plan" for when Habibi deploys. Things I ought to do/try/make/buy and goals to set for myself. Ways to keep me busy and hopefully less stressed and/or depressed. I've got a pretty good amount of things so far! I just keep thinking... Thirty days without a Game Plan was hell. I couldn't imagine 12-15 months without one.
Anyway, I found myself creating a place for these women. A place where they could vent their frustrations, talk about anything they like without boundaries and be met with acceptance, advice and open minds. None of that "this is right and wrong", "that's disgusting", "I would NEVER..." or anything. Just encouragement and understanding. In a matter of weeks I began to open up, myself.
