When You Start Rolling Your Eyes at the Calendar
When February rolls around I’ll roll my eyes, turn a cold shoulder to these even colder skies, and by the fire my heart it heaves a sigh for the green grass waiting on the other side.” — “In Like a Lion” by Relient K
As someone who has always had some sort of seasonal depression in the darker months, even before my diagnosis of Postpartum Depression after each daughter, February has always been one of my least favorite months.
This year, it’s month four of a deployment that will be somewhere between eight and 12 months long (it’s still anybody’s guess), and the end of my homebody tendencies because travel season starts back up for my job.
Most of the time, traveling is my favorite part, but when it involves so many extra steps, it can become a hassle and a joy-suck, which is sort of how I feel about this time of the year anyway.
Somehow, all three of the last deployments, my husband has ended up gone for January and part of February. He works hard to make me feel loved and his extra mile is always noted, but having depression makes it hard to feel like a person sometimes, and when you’re used to having another person help you feel like a person, sometimes it’s hard to remember how.
He’s the person who reminds me to take my meds, makes sure I watch my caffeine, and makes sure I’m getting enough sleep. (And on the really bad weeks, makes sure I don’t go too long without showering! Ew.)
I have friends who are ever willing to pick up the slack, check in on me, and make sure I’m doing okay, but there are very few people who will pull me aside and say, “Girlfriend, I love you, but you need a shower and a haircut stat.”
I can usually be that friend for other people, but I find I have two modes of friendship during deployment: either I’m terribly selfish and not good at making time for other people, or I’m your go-to person to rely on during panic because it’s easier to move everything around because my house is all off-schedule anyway.
It’s something I’m working on, but I was better at making time for myself when I knew there was time to carve out of the schedule without throwing my house out of whack.
People often make comments about how a return from deployment means the release of a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. Or, finally relaxing after being tense for so long you didn’t realize that wasn’t actually your natural state.
For me, it’s always felt like being a half-full set of water wings. You can still kind of do your job to hold other people up and keep them safe, but you’re not doing it well, and then when someone comes and puts extra air in you, you are back to being your best self.
So while I spend my Valentine’s Day partying with the under-7 crowd, and doing the ever-adulty task of working from home while having the garage door replaced (thanks, deployment gnome, you can go away now…), I’m grateful for the obnoxious dog who barks at the doorbell when flowers, balloons, chocolate-covered strawberries, and a necklace all arrive (separately, of course).
And I sit by the fireplace, waiting for the reunion that is coming. I mean, he can’t be deployed forever, right?
