Most of the blogs and articles I read are written by women or men married to someone in the military or those who've lost someone who was in the military. Most of these blogs are written by people who've probably got a decade or more better than me, although there are 2 heartbreaking widow-blogs that I follow and both of those writers are actually a few years younger than I.
There are other things I follow of course. I'll read blogs about/from fiction authors that I love, I keep up with the news and parenting articles, childhood development stuff, job-interest stuff and of course the magazine/website for military spouses in this area. I read. I read constantly.
There are a few people who've asked me for years now how I write. That's a loaded question. Mostly I sit in front of a computer, or in front of a spiral notebook with a pen that I love and I just let it out. It's my venting. It's my bitching. It's what makes me feel normal...or sometimes not so normal depending on the day. It's just there. Every day. Or almost every day.
Writers block exists. But generally if you change the subject the block goes away. Taking a break from what I'm working on and just switching the subject seems to do it for me.
I didn't write while Jer was deployed. Before, while he was in training, I did write. I wrote for school and I'd journal, and I wrote to him at least once a day...often with several different colors of ink just to break up the tedium of training for him. But while he was deployed, I only wrote to him. I still read all my blogs that I follow, and lots and lots of pregnancy-related books of course, but I didn't write any blogs or in any journals.
Because I didn't need to bitch.
Of course there were those days that everything went to hell, or someone had made a snarky comment to me that rubbed me the wrong way... And most of the time I'd sit down and email him and cry a little, take new pictures of my ever-growing preggo belly and it'd be ok. There were very, very few times in that year of loneliness that I really bitched. Mostly because when you're sitting in your very pretty house, growing pleasantly plump off of cold cereal and delicious baby-shower cake, in the middle of Colorado, surrounded by family in all directions and your hubby's across the world, sitting (sweltering) in a tent, in a war zone, surrounded by smelly guys (no offense), with no AC, having rockets being launched at him at all hours of the day...which are long hours when he's the only one there with his MOS... you don't have much to bitch about.
Well..now he's home, and I probably haven't stopped bitching for the last year, to him or in my blog...Yep, it's been a year of dwell time. Because now, he's with me. Now it's safe for me to say that he hogs the bed covers, can't seem to EVER dress the baby in an outfit that matches, leaves computer parts laying all over my house, and he forgets. Just forgets. Things.. randomly. Lol.
Every so often he gets to be "abroad" while I wait at home. And so it's my right, now that I have him back, to take comfort in the things that I get to bitch about.
No comments:
Post a Comment