I'll go out on a limb and confess that I really don't like the Cat Daddy's current work gig. I mean, I'm fine with most of it. What he does is fine; missileering doesn't bother me. Other than the wind, I like Cheyenne pretty well. I really like the people we're meeting and the friendships we're building.
The part that I don't like is the being gone 6-8 times per month. There are even some months where he's only gone 5 nights per month. In theory it's really not that bad. In practice it drains me. Some days are better than others of course, and there are some where he gets home and I am cheerful, and peppy, and rarin' to go. More often though, he comes home and I have a bit of a blank stare and can't seem to comprise a coherent thought.
I feel like I should be able to handle the overnights better than I do. Among people who have spouses that go out to the field, I actually have it pretty good. There are some whose spouses are out in the field for three nights at a time, or more. And then of course those with the deployed spouses...4 months, 6 months, a year, or more. And then those who are single parents all the time. In the big scheme of things my 5-8 individual nights a month isn't bad at all.
But somehow creating perspective based on quantity doesn't make me feel better. And then I feel worse for not feeling better. And then I feel really really bad, because it feels like I'm the only one who can't seem to get with it and just feel better.
I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one, though. That's why I insist on continuing to be honest about the hard parts. Not to be difficult. Not to complain. Not to feel sorry for myself, or to try to get other people to feel sorry for me. Mostly I do it because the thing that helps the most (other than immediate & complete relief from all things painful, difficult, or otherwise uncomfortable) is knowing that I'm not alone.
When I have taken the risk of this honesty there are those who have said things like "suck it up," "I have it harder so stop fussing," "Someone, somewhere has it harder, so stop fussing," "It's not so bad," and so on. But along the way there have also been those who have said things like "It is/was hard for me too," or "I'm there right now too," which sound an awful lot like "You're not alone." From there it's a very short trip to "You'll make it through," "It will get better," and "I'm here with you."
Which really does help...