High, Low, High

I think I need medication.

Today was such a strange day, for no reason at all. Terry didn't call. Nothing major happened. I went grocery shopping and jammed to tunes in my car (that's "me time" these days) on the way from the commissary to Costco and suddenly in the middle of a song I thought about a conversation Terry and I had the other day. He said, "I can't wait to get back to my life again. I've seen people die, the faces of the dead, young kids too. I'm sure [a friend] would have loved to see his kids one more time, to kiss his wife one last time. I just know how precious life is now."

I listen in stone silence when he has these moments because I'm amazed that 1) he's actually been over there, and 2) that he can come back with such a positive attitude - to want make his life count for something instead of being totally depressed about it all. And when I think of these things, that men my age, Terry's age with kids OUR kids' age have died and taken their last breaths in such a brutal way, it kills my spirit. I have such a different reaction to his experiences. Not that he doesn't get sad, lordy he does, but I become momentarily paralyzed by the thoughts. I grieve for the men and women, and their families and it's hard for me to be happy and celebrate his homecoming knowing those who have lost so much and their lives have changed forever.

I wonder if I'll ever stop having these mood swings. I don't even know these people!!! I know of their families, but I didn't have any kind of relationship with them before they lost what they lost. I absorb people's pain like a sponge. I guess it's because of course Terry is still there. He's still not home and as much as I feel we are just around the corner from ending this - he's still there. And I think anyone whose soldier has been to Iraq or Afghanistan, etc, becomes bonded together by it. I've never felt like I belonged so much to a group of people as I have this year in the Army. You know how motherhood bonds most mothers together, as opposed to those who haven't had children yet? It's like that but stronger, for me at least.

So I'm at Costco and have another moment. Usually I avoid that place like the plague because when you walk through those large breezy doors that sound like a jet engine sucking you in, they laser beam a spending virus into your immune system. Suddenly you need a 60Gig Ipod, a grill that could swallow your kitchen stove, a hot tub, a loaf of bread the size of Texas and you somehow forget about the diapers you so desperately needed a year's supply of - so you have to back to get it and the cycle continues.

Anyhoo, as I'm pulling my hand away from the pack of 400 frames, I look around like, "Damn, American's have so much. Look at all the food, the gadgets, the WINE for goodness' sake!"[yum] - and I'm acutely aware of the disparity in the world (and how much we like to drink!). I'm grateful just to be a woman in America, to know that my ancestors had to fight for civil rights and freedom and I get to enjoy the bounty of it. So while I am sad (and depressed sometimes) at the unfairness of life, I also kick myself out of it, because what's worse is letting it hold me back and drag me into a hole.

Incidentally I have valium waiting for me at a local pharmacy. I didn't make it through my MRI. Turns out I have claustrophobia. Who knew? So the valium is supposed to help me get through it. I really would just rather be drunk. I can't drive anyway, why not make the most of it? :) Now that you all think I'm crazy...I'm NOT and I'm not really depressed either. I've made a lot of new friends lately and I'm still on a high counting the days till Terry gets home.....

Oh, and I downloaded the theme song to Team America. That always puts a good spin on American consumerism and war. It's so freaking vulgar...but so funny. We need to laugh at ourselves sometimes.