Sometimes I feel like I'll never rid myself of the mentality I developed during my long-distance relationship.
We're down to single-digit days until Rob starts work. Despite the fact that it isn't anything like our past goodbyes--of which there were many--the same thoughts and associations come flooding back in the most insidious ways.
I've noticed that I've gradually begun to descend into an unexplained funk.* Every day I feel more restless, more bored, more frustrated. Small, stupid, petty things irk me though they never did before. I snap inexplicably and if we had an argument I just hide in our bedroom and read. Yesterday I became furious with our Progressive Snapshot because it seems intent on proving that I'm a terrible driver and I'm very self conscious about my driving (no, you goddamn piece of plastic, "hard braking" does not equal "stopping at the fucking stoplight when it turns yellow and then red"). The other night I fell asleep two hours before Rob, which never happens because we always fall asleep together after watching Mystery Science Theater 3000. I've just felt off.
Yesterday or the day before I finally started to evaluate why I was feeling so claustrophobic in my own body. I instantly remembered that Rob begins work on Sunday and the realization hit me that my body must be preparing itself, in a way, for another goodbye. My subconscious, for whatever reason, doesn't differentiate between Rob going to a 9-6 job and eventually leaving for a few weeks at a time and him leaving for Iraq.
Unfortunately once my self-conscious chooses how my body will feel my mind tends to blindly follow suit. And also unfortunately, once I realized the underlying cause of my frustration it just made me feel like my body was right and that I should indeed be worrying about Rob starting work on Sunday. That it indeed will be just as awful as I think it is. My train of thought weaves along the well-worn path I've created for it throughout years of anxiety and depression and it seems impossible to pull it out of that rut.
It doesn't really help that I've been out of therapy for over a month and don't have a professional sounding board to help me figure out the ins and outs of this process and how I can pull myself out of this.
While I would absolutely love to just sit around with Rob all day, we realistically need to move on with this next chapter of our lives. I need to come to accept that Rob leaving the house does not indicate that he's leaving me, and I should avoid my typical MO of making everything about myself and instead support my husband in his new step he's taking. I am very, very proud of him and can't wait to see how this new chapter progresses for him and for us, together.
I guess for now the only thing I can do is engage in the only therapy I can--namely hot baths, nachos, chocolate cookies, and snuggling with my favorite person in his last few days of freedom. After all, I'll eventually have to learn to effectively confront these abandonment demons, and the lesson is officially here whether I'm ready or not.
*For the record, I hate the word funk. Can someone please come up with a new word to describe this?