Where's The Love?

My mother once told me that when you get to a certain age, you'll find that all your friends are getting married. A few years later, all your friends are having kids. Then, they're all getting divorced.

I've gotten to that certain age.

In the last two months, I've found that two sets of friends (who I never would have guessed would do so) are in the midst of divorce. Needless to say, it was pretty shocking to learn. While the reasons for the splits are different and varied, it's more the actual divorces that have left me reeling.

These aren't my first friends to get divorced. Actually, at least five of my friends have divorced or separated from their partners in the last five years. In nearly all the cases, I've been caught unawares that there had been any issues in the relationship, giving credence to the saying, "You never know what happens behind closed doors." However, the most recent divorces have resonated because of the length of time both couples have been married, the fact that they both have kids, and that I had never noticed signs that anything was wrong.

I'm not naive. I know that marriage is tough, people change as time goes on, or make bad choices, or maybe should never have gotten married in the first place. I know that some marriages just aren't ever going to work, or are so unhealthy that they shouldn't work. So, I'm not anti-divorce. I am the first to acknowledge that sometimes divorce is really necessary in order for one or both people to live a full and healthy life. But with the divore rate in our country reaching past 50%, I wonder what the major reasons for divorce are.

Adam has spent the last nine months as an Army JAG providing legal assistance to our servicemembers deployed in the Middle East, and a large part of his job has been counseling soldiers contemplating or in the midst of divorce. I asked him once what the primary reason is for the vast majority of his cases--married too young? chose the wrong person? people changed during the marriage? infidelity? Since the lives of servicemembers can differ in so many ways from those of civilians, their marriages and divorces may not represent a microcosm of the outside world. For example, some soldiers married someone they only knew for a few days, after having met them during their two-week R&R. Or, perhaps they got married simply to get additional pay for having a dependent, or married a friend or stranger to ensure that person receives benefits. With some exceptions, these types of arrangements almost seemed doomed for failure. Then, there are the other marriages that just haven't been able to stand the long separations endured through multiple deployments in wartime.

But what about the rest of us? Evidently, the most-cited reason is differences of opinion about money, although most couples file for divorce under the general term "irreconcilable differences," which I suppose could mean anything. While infidelity is a biggie, very few couples report abuse as a reason for splitting.

I think my biggest question about divorce is when the love between the couples ends. So many people seem to really hate their spouse as divorce proceedings go forth, and I wonder how the same happily smiling couple in wedding photos can, just years later, be bitterly fighting over assets, kids and arrangements. I guess it's the stuff of movies (a la "The War of the Roses"). But in the real world, how do two people who love each other get to such a hateful place? Where does the love go?

I realize that this post potentially makes me seem naive or even judgemental, and I truly don't mean to come across as either. As I said before, I believe that there is a place for divorce, because people might not belong together for a variety of reasons. I just wonder how two people who really did feel love for each other at some point get to a place where neither wants to even be in the same room. There is a saying that there's a thin line between love and hate, that the same passion that drives you to hate someone could also drive you to love them.

I wonder if sometimes, people mistake one emotion for the other.

It's a Sign

Adam has officially left the building (aka, Iraq), and has been backlogged in Kuwait for an undetermined time. He has limited internet access, so we take our few moments of contact when we can get them.

Today, while on Facebook chat, he asked me "What's our little black cat's name again?". This was particularly ironic that he asked, because today is the one-year anniversary of our acquiring her. I couldn't believe he'd forgotten her name. I know the cats don't mean the same thing to us as the dogs did, but still...

When I finally helped him get to Holiday with a series of clues, he surmised, "I'm getting old and I need to get outta here." I agreed, at least with the latter part of that statement.

So folks, if your loved one suddenly forgets a family pet's name, it's a sure-fire sign they need to get the hell outta Kuwait.

Promises, Promises

I realize I've taken a bit of a long hiatus, but I promise to be back in action very soon. Travels, chaos and general laziness are the general excuses.

See ya on the flip side.

Under Pressure

I can't remember if I've written about this before or not, but recent events have gotten me unnerved enough that I want to get something written, perhaps as catharsis, or perhaps to solicit feedback and support from those who have gone through the same thing.

For over a year, I have suffered (mostly at night) from constant and increasingly terrifying anxiety attacks. Roughly thirty minutes after I drift off to sleep, I wake up with a start, feeling like my chest is crushing in on itself, leaving me unable to breathe and with overwhelming feelings of dread and imminent death. Sometimes I find myself calling out, trying to verbally grasp something tangible that can pull me through to safety; other times I just rock myself out of it, silently crying. In the last six months or so, I've found that using the deep breathing techniques I learned in my prenatal yoga class not only abate the feelings of terror, but also calm my rapid heartbeat and breathlessness.

If my memory serves me, the attacks first started when I moved to Fort Hood. Without rehashing my feelings about that place, I think it's fair to say that I was pretty depressed and felt isolated and out of sorts. Add a one-year old baby and (what seemed to be a) loss of career productivity to the mix and it made for one anxiety-producing situation. I assumed that once I returned to the comforts of my home, community and life in Michigan that my nighttime panic would subside, and for awhile, it did. But, gradually I found that they returned with increased frequency and vigor.

Last night was a clincher. I woke up with the same chest-crushing feeling as usual, but instead of being able to breathe it away, the panic and pain just lasted...and lasted. It was maddening and so terrifying. After awhile, I really started to believe I was going to die, and thoughts of my little girl came to mind. I envisioned her waking up the next morning, expecting me to come take her from her crib, but I never arrive, and she's in there, crying for hours on end. The thought that my little girl could feel abandoned while I lie dead down the hall, with no one coming to get her for hours...it was so overwhelming, and the panic I was already feeling was overtaken by this new anxiety. I felt myself going off the deep end and so I willed myself to breathe, breathe, breathe. Finally, I started to calm down, but I was so fearful of returning to sleep.

Today, I told a friend about this most recent occurrence, and she offered to let me text her every morning to say that I'm alive. If I don't text her, she'll know to call me and make sure everything is okay. Otherwise, she'll come over to check on Bryony. In the light of day, I was able to laugh at this and say, "You don't mind coming over to find my dead body?" She looked at me seriously and said, "I don't want to find your dead body, but I will come to your house if necessary to get your child. I'll take her out to my truck and hold her while I call 9-1-1." Now that's a friend.

This evening, while watching tv and texting to a friend, I found myself, out of nowhere, entering into a panic attack. I was so surprised that at first I didn't realize what it was. Then, the more I thought about it, the shorter my breaths became, and the more panic rose in my body, making my skin tingle and throat tighten. To fend it off, I called a close friend I'd been meaning to get in touch with. It worked. After a good hour-long conversation, my mind was far away from the attack.

But alas, it's now bedtime again, and I approach sleep with some trepidation. Perhaps my extreme exhaustion will overtake any tendency toward anxiety tonight, or at least, I hope it will.

I hope there is rest for w(e)ary.

A Sand Oddity

Ground Control to Captain Adam
Ground Control to Captain Adam
Pack up all your things and climb aboard a plane
Ground Control to Captain Adam
Commencing countdown, engines on.
Tell there good-bye, 'cause we're waiting here for you.

This is Ground Control to Captain Adam
You've really made the grade.
And your daughter wants to know which boots you wear.
And it's time to leave the desert, get outta there!

Ground Control to Captain Adam
You've done your part,
Come back to your land
Can you hear us, Captain Adam?
Can you hear us, Captain Adam?
Can you hear us, Captain Adam?



The countdown is on, Love. We cannot wait to see you.

Rub You the Wrong Way

I freely admit that I'm the type of person who aims to be liked. Well, most of us want to be liked, but I make a job of it. At parties or group get-togethers, I try to razzle, dazzle them. I tell big, funny stories, I self-deprecate, I make fun of politics and society. I do my best to be the funny gal on the scene. I really want people to like me. Yes, I'm at an advantage because I am a total extrovert. As someone once put it, I "absorb energy from my interactions with others" (whereas an introvert will lose energy from those same interactions). I suppose it's the Leo in me, but I love a group of people, and I love to be right smack dab in the center of it.

I've started to notice, however, that my attempts to be a three-ring Lauren in order to win friends and influence people doesn't always work. In fact, I'm starting to feel that some of the "big"ness of my personality actually turns some people off. And, really nice people at that.

You know how, in high school, or at work, or wherever, if the snotty popular kids didn't like you, you could pretend it didn't matter because they were the ones with the superiority complex, so who cares (even though you kinda did)? Trust me, it is way worse when you desperately want someone to like you, not because they are pretty, rich and popular, but because they are a genuine, down-to-earth and likeable person you could actually see being friends with. Not to mention the fact that they like all your mutual friends. Aaaargh!

So I've decided to start toning things down a bit, scaling back. Let someone else have the limelight for awhile, let someone else tell the jokes and outlandish stories that make the group laugh. I'll let someone else be the Leo for a change.

Roooaaar....*sniff*