Obsessions

Ahhh...Therapy...there is no shame in it.
So in preparation for the Deployment, I've started seeing a Therapist.
She's awesome...and is my age...with a three year old, and aging parents that live in another state...and she gets it.
Her husband gets to stay home more than mine...but I won't hold that against her.  Because her job is to listen to people's trials and tribulations all day.  That would make me nuts.

First visit was nice...get to know you.

Second visit was a Vent Fest.  Vent about rude people questioning about having an Only Child.  Vent about the Deployment.  Vent about The Parents.  Vent about the In Laws.  Vent about The Dog.

She also found the story of me tossing The Husband's uniforms down the stairs, and me with my six month preggo self going down and kicking and stomping the hell out of them, quite amusing. 

That's the way I cope.  I bottle up and explode when I am alone.

I felt fifty pounds lighter when I walked out.

I also realized another one of my coping mechanisms.

I will chew the hell out of an issue.  Obsess, research, re-research...obsess some more...and then I will put it in the back of my head and say 'eff it'.

Then I won't obsess anymore.

Kind of like the three pound  can of Pecan Poppycock I buy from Target ever year around Christmas.  I eat that crap for three days, and then I am done when I get to the bottom of the can.  I'm good for another year.

I will latch onto something else.

Right now, I can't really mull anything over in regards to The Deployment.  The Husband just got details this weekend, and we will go over them tonight.

And I kinda just don't want to.

So instead...I am researching Birthday Plans for The Toddler's Big Four (in August I might add) and Tshirts for him to wear to the Deployment Ceremony...and a Banner for the Welcome Home.

Therapist said those were all positive things...and it helps.

Yeah, until you get mad because you are crying over all the designs on Cafe Press and want to go kick a wall because you are picking out another damned shirt for your kid to wear to a military function.  The last one was a Welcome Home Daddy shirt...this one is more smart ass than anything...I guess I want people to KNOW we feel like shit right now.

I'm a little narcissistic that way apparently.

I'm at ANGRY with coping.

Angry that I have to let him go for a year.

Angry that I have to deal with this again.

Angry that it is what it is and I have to play nice.

But it's ok.

It's his job...and the benefits are good...and blah blah blah.

It still suuuuuucks eggs.  Big rotten stinky eggs.