Feeling the Funk

I decided that I cannot hide my feelings from the blog forever and finally came to terms with the fact that I have been in a bit of a funk lately. I am typically a very strong and independent person, so naturally I hate admitting when things are not going so well. Although I am writing slightly after the fact as I am feeling much better now, I figured that it was still worth reporting. Knowing me and my teeter-totter of emotions, I might be back in my "funk" before too long.

Will left one week ago today for a month of training in California. We went out to dinner the night before he left and I did my usual "night-before panic attack" with tears and the whole deal. I tend to get worked up right before something happens and then when the thing actually happens I am fine. This was the case once again. I dropped him off early Thursday morning with a hug and kiss and a very short goodbye. There is almost nothing more dreadful than a long, drawn-out goodbye. Besides, a month isn't that long...

Well, I drove to Montana that day to spend the weekend with my mom. We had a wonderful time together and I was feeling really good about everything. Moms have a funny way of making everything okay. So, I strutted my confident self back to Boise and that's when it hit me. Okay, the UTI hit me, but also the first signs of the funk. I was fine during the day because I had to go to work and tend to a few other things, but as soon a I got home at night where there was not a routine I just didn't want to do anything. I was talking to myself and crying over everything and really feeling quite pitiful. The worst part is that I started to get really scared for the future - if I cannot handle this, how am I going to deal with a deployment? I felt so weak and vulnerable, characteristics that I would not normally associate with myself. I do not have many close friends in Boise so I could not even seek solace with them. So what did I do? I called my mom. Again, Moms have a funny way of making everything okay. Unfortunately, this one was of those rare times when nothing that my mom could say or do was going to make it better - I had to deal with this on my own.

And that's just what I did. I said, "okay Tabatha, that's enough. You had your pity party and it's time to move on. Yes, it's okay to miss your husband/best friend and to feel a little lost, but it's time to get back on track". I could choose to laugh or choose to cry - the choice was completely mine. There is no need to let events control my mood, I control my mood.

So, although I will not see my husband for three more weeks, I am reminded of a quote that I often tell people (I am good at giving advice, but I suck at taking my own advice) - Instead of counting your days, make your days count. Three weeks is a long period and I am sure that I can make some wonderful accomplishments in that time.

I'm back, confident, strong, and independent as ever...until my husband comes home and wants to take care of me in which case I will let him. I mean, I don't want to hurt his feelings. I hereby declare this funk OVER, let life continue!