Self-Indulgent Whining

I am about to engage in some hardcore whining. If you're one of those people who blogs or tweets about how negative and complain-y the blog world gets, you might want to skip past this one.

Rob's been gone since Tuesday and I have been totally blindsided by how much if affected me.  As I told you guys in my TILT post, I got the text that he was leaving and just totally dissolved into tears.  I knew it was coming but I don't think that I adequately prepared myself for how I'd react when it finally did happen, despite having around 4 months to do so.

I'll be honest, this feels like Iraq all over again.  I know deep down he's so much safer doing this for several reasons (the main one being that fire doesn't usually try to kill you, and as we all know the fire insurgents haven't used IEDs for years) but for some reason my mind and my whole body go back to that year where I didn't know if the next phone call from his parents would be to tell me that he was gone.  My phone comes with me everywhere, including to the bathroom, on walks with Cypress, or when I move from one room to another (in our two-room casita).  My mind is flooded with images of him being hurt and me not being there, or of coming home from a walk with Cypress to see men in fire-suits at my door (I don't know how the whole notification thing happens with the Forest Service if you can't tell).  In between the spurts of crying I feel like a total zombie.

A pretty cactus flower picture to break up the text and remind you that I'M IN THE DESERT. P.S. doesn't this flower look kind of fake?

I imagine if you're a military spouse and you're reading this it probably comes across as pretty annoying; truthfully I was and still am annoyed when people compare relatively normal work trips to deployments. I just honestly don't know how else to deal with this shit.  The only time I had to worry about my husband being killed (other than now) was when he was in Iraq and that's my only point of reference.

I feel really angry, angry at Rob for always wanting to do dangerous jobs without thinking about how hard it can be at home and angry at myself for being angry about it and turning it into something that's about me.  I'm worried, worried that he isn't calling because something went wrong or that he just doesn't want to talk to me (I know, I know).  I'm scared of finding myself alone, or that Rob will be horribly burned or otherwise injured.

This is the first of many fire trips and I know eventually I'll get numb, just like I did during the deployment.  In between my bitchin' pity parties I'm also trying to "check the facts," as my therapist says, and remember that though this job is more dangerous than my job he's still as safe as he could possibly be.

 Sometimes the PTSD just rears its ugly head and  makes it absolutely impossible for me to put shit in the correct context--which is where you and my blog come in, so thank you.

Thanks for "listening," guys, you're all awesome.