Becoming who I was meant to be...

Over the past year there have been many changes in my life. Friends have moved away, I have started a full time job, my hubby deployed and on top of everything else the "friends" who were local turned their backs on me.

How can anyone live like this and still keep their sanity?! For any military spouse a deployment is a hard life to live and to have your closest friend move away and everyone else turn against you can send you over the edge very quickly.

Needless to say this deployment was probably the hardest I have ever had to endure. I can still remember the day Chris left for Iraq. Standing on the tarmac with only my children and trying to be strong for them was one of my lowest points. Normally following any deployment I try and stay away from my house. Going home makes it a reality and I am not usually up for facing reality once the plane has left. This time I had no choice. There was no where for me to go. I called Michelle that morning and through my tears told her she wasn't suppose to be in Texas, but here with me.

Michelle had been my support through many deployments and vice versa. Whenever our husbands would deploy we would load the kids in the car and take a trip. Anywhere but home was our goal. I can't begin to tell you the amount of times we packed everyone into her Suburban: Her, me, Hannah, Cody, Colton, Cheyenne, Savannah, and depending on where we were going, Megan (and when we had more children: Taylor, Ashley, and Zylee). Needless to say we were packed to the gills. Ahh, the good ole days. :) But I am getting off track...

Back to the point of my post, through everything it was a matter of taking stock of who I was and who I was suppose to be. There were some days that I would feel as if I had to put on the armor of God to simply be able to walk into the Welcome Center. Satan wanted me to feel the discontent that came from some of the staff there, and I knew that only God could protect me.

While I will admit that I am not perfect, and I tend to stress out over the little things, I am taking the scripture to heart. "Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." Matthew 6:34. God can see us through anything if only we will allow him. For this reason, I am trusting him to see me through this new unpredictable life.

If people choose not to like me or say things against me, then that is on them. I am refusing to worry about their perceptions of me. God will take care of that. If I concentrate on me and doing what God would have me do, then God will take care of the rest. The worry and the dislike is of Satan and I refuse to allow him any control in my life. Now is the time for me to concentrate on becoming who I was meant to be.

Emotional Flooding

Sometimes a memory can cause as much pain and anguish as an actual event.

I have recently started a creative writing seminar and I told them that I didn't know if I would emotionally be able to write about a particular experience. Sally refers to this as emotional flooding and I can understand why.

When I first sit down to write about an event in my life I honestly don't know where to start. How do you take an event that had such an effect on you and put it into words? It usually takes me a few minutes, if not longer, to really get to writing. Suddenly everything begins to flow and before I know it it seems as if I am transported back in time to the day the event occured.

My sense of smell is heightened and even the smell of a particular shampoo can bring back the pain that I felt at that time in my life. To this day I refuse to purchase Herbal Essence shampoo. Even something that is similar in smell will trigger the emotions and I still have a hard time dealing with them.

Not only is my sense of smell heightened, but my memory is clear and precise. I can remember everything that happened to include how the breeze was blowing through the trees and the sound of the television downstairs. A pain that I have struggled to overcome is once again screaming through my memory. I hate the way these memories make me feel. Desperate, alone, anguish, loss.

As I continue to write the tears begin to flow. Reliving any sorrowful event can be hard, but I continue to push through. I eventually have to stop because my body is wracked with emotion and I can no longer see the paper in front of me. The what if's and why's are running through my mind and I am struggling to get a grip on reality. When I am finally calm I have to remind myself that the event is in the past and that I am ok now. I have survived.

I have often wondered about writing a book about my life experience. How God helped me to overcome the troubles that I have been faced with. Years ago I even thought of a title for my book, but that will stay my secret for now. For now I am taking baby steps and learning to write my story is the only way to keep my sanity in check.

After each memoir is written I learn that while the emotions were hard to face, writing is a form of healing for me. To write the memoir is one thing, to sit in front of a group of people and read your emotions aloud is all together different.

The last seminar I wrote for I thought I would get through the memoir without any crying. Wrong. Somehow reading my emotions out loud was just as hard as writing them, but I am glad I did it.