I’m Sorry I Said Anything

The back story:  Last week sometime a very nice lady, we’ll call her Lucy (but her name is changed to protect the well-intentioned) came into the library.  She used to be an employee at the library, so we chatted a little more than normal, and it turns out her husband is in the same brigade as my hubby.  She also lives just up the block from me.  We mini rejoiced, and she asked if I’d been going to FRG meetings and other mandatory fun activities because that’s where she’d just come from and hadn’t seen me at any yet.  I told her no.  I hadn’t heard from my leader yet at all, but was busy with work and was limping along learning the community on my own.  I feigned the poor me routine a little too well I guess.

Yesterday I got an email from DH saying I needed to urgently “fix” a problem by contacting my FRG leader because he had been called in by his CO to have a conference call with the battalion commander.  Wha??  That was on my lunch hour.  Then, while at work, I got a flurry of calls from the whole FRG chain of command asking for my info and checking on me and apologizing and blaming me.  Then I got a visit while at work from the commander of the rear detachment doing the same thing.  Wha?!?  Lucy’s husband, I find out a day later, turns out to be a very high-ranking officer at headquarters who passed on to my hubby and various others that I was desperate, lonely, and flipping out here all by myself.  WHA???

I am not flipping out.  I am doing better than I have in five years.  I miss my honey, yes, but I’m ok.  How this story got twisted, I have no idea.

Now I feel obligated to attend FRG meetings and events because I “made such a big deal about being included.”  Newsletters would be nice, but I don’t want to attend forced fun that is geared toward families and small children.  Sigh…  I don’t want to come across as ungrateful, unwilling to volunteer, or antisocial.  I think FRGs are great for those that need and want them.  I have an issue with mandatory participation though.  Between work, family, home stuff, and mental issues, I don’t always know if I’m going to be able to handle extra responsibilities.  I don’t want to be guilted into participating and then feel massively overwhelmed and start to lose it again.  I know my limits, and I don’t want to explain them to perfect strangers all the time.  Grr…

This whole miscommunication really shook me.  I was upset because DH was getting talked to by his bosses because of me.  I was angry because I was getting blamed for jumping the chain of command by going to Lucy’s husband, even when that’s not what I intended or wanted at all.  And I was embarrassed and upset that people were treating me like a scared child who needed her hand held when I’m doing great.  All that in about thirty minutes.  I wanted to cry and scream.  It left me battered and bruised and took me about two days to start feeling normal again.

I’m starting to realize that I’m doing good, but when the Army intrudes into my life and I can’t pretend that this is the arrangement that I wanted all along, I’m shaken to the core.  It reminds me that I’m not doing perfect.  This deployment is hard and hurts a lot.

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