By Jesica Fields
Resiliency is a word you’ll hear often as a military spouse. Chances are you received a resiliency training or overheard your service member talking about it. If you’re very brand new to the military life, resiliency is a word we use to describe our ability to “bounce back” or “over-come” the hardships of military life. It’s a good concept and mindset to have, but here’s my issue: it can set us up for failure. You’ll hear phrases like “stay strong” and “keep it together,” but what happens when you’ve hit a point of overwhelm, exhaustion, and loneliness?
I reached this point in the summer of 2018. It all started with an overgrown lawn. It had been two months since my husband deployed. As the winter turned to spring, a lot of things were growing and changing. I could feel the changes happening inside myself, although most of them far from positive. It was a gloomy April morning when I got a ring at my doorbell. That poor innocent guy soliciting his lawn services to my overgrown lawn would be my final straw. I had been looking at that lawn for weeks, praying that it might miraculously cut itself, much like any problems in life. But alas, it didn’t.
As a stay at home mom of two toddlers, it was hard finding the time to shower in peace, let alone mow the grass. I had just started to convince myself that, yes, maybe I did need some help and maybe I should hire someone to do it for me. But out of pure stubbornness, I strapped my two-year-old son to my back in a baby carrier (which he had far outgrown by that time) and decided to cut the grass myself out of utter frustration. Well, the grass looked much like my son’s hair when I decided to give that a trim too. Regardless of its curb appeal, the lawn was no longer overgrown, and I would no longer have people at my door reminding me of my unkempt life.
Fast forward a few days and I’m leaving my kids with a trusted friend and driving myself to the nearest emergency room. I was fully convinced I was having a heart attack. To my surprise, I waited in the waiting area for two hours before being examined and then swiftly released with the diagnosis of a panic attack. I left that hospital in shame. I felt guilty for two reasons: First, to have wasted time and resources due to my inability to handle my stress, and second, for not speaking up and telling the doctor I was slipping into a deep depression.
The following days ahead were a blur. I remember having terrible bouts of sobbing and just wishing all the negativity that resided in my head would just wash away. The weeks turned into months and the exhaustion of the day-to-day began to set in. I remember some days we would just sit on the couch and wait for another day to pass. This was an all-time low, a depression I had never felt before, a deep feeling of being unwell both physically and mentally. I was relying heavily on coffee and diet soda to pull me through the day, I wasn’t exercising or taking time for myself, and the fast food drive-thru became my best friend. I was irritable, I developed acne, I put on weight, and I began to isolate myself. It seemed as if every flaw I had was coming to the surface, and I was forced to meet all my insecurities head on.
By self-referral, I began seeing a therapist on post to help cope. I remember sitting on her couch a complete mess, on the verge of tears, and confiding to her:
“It always seems like we have to be so strong in support of the service member, but I need support too. Where’s my care package?”
For the first time in months, I actually laughed out loud, solely at the sheer audacity of that statement. “How selfish of me,” I thought. But I was quickly reassured that we all need support in life and especially when living the military life.
Looking back, I feel my expectations rested too high on the support of our families. Here I was wholeheartedly expecting deployment life to be like an episode of Army Wives. To be answering my door for visitors or meals or a, “Hey, just checking in.” That was my first mistake: my expectations of others were way too high. Our families and friends have full time jobs, kids of their own, and their own responsibilities to handle. As much as they love and support us, it really is our responsibility to reach out and ask for what we need. But here’s where the resiliency factor came in. I became too proud to ask for help.
The stigma of a strong military spouse who handles it all and holds down the home front was weighing deeply on my heart. I wanted to be strong for my kids and husband. But in my effort to be Wonder Woman, I lost myself. There is no denying the amount of sacrifice that is poured into the decision to serve in the military for both the service members and their families. We sacrifice our time, our energy, our homes, our jobs. But we don’t have to sacrifice our overall well-being in the process.
As we approach our second deployment, I had a deep desire to share my story and offer a token of support to other spouses who are living their day-to-day deployment. I always remember searching for YouTube videos or blogs or books from other spouses who would tell the full story of deployment. But alas, I was met with those resilient military spouses who could handle deployment in their sleep. I needed the good, the bad, and the ugly—so I decided to write about it.
It’s important to realize that there will be bad days during deployment, and that’s okay! Things will break, lawns will get overgrown, the kids will find every way to drive you crazy; but there is always a resource, a personal contact, or a remedy to help get you through the trying times whenever you’re ready. Despite contrary beliefs, there is no timeline on resiliency. It took almost an entire year for me to fully bounce back from our first deployment. But I came back even stronger with a pocket full of self-love to tackle the next one. We got this!
Love, Jes
