I swore I would never blog....

....and yet here I am. I swore I would never do it, because I used to have a Livejournal and it just created unnecessary drama. This will probably create unnecessary drama at some point as well, but oh well. It's my right to speak my mind. Thank you freedom of speech! I have so much built up inside of me these days, I just don't know how else to express it, or let it out, since it seems like no one else really understands. How did I get to this point? The question is easy.

I fell in love with a Marine.

A grunt at that.

I never expected to end up with Nick. I met him the summer of 2004 when he was 17 and had just graduated high school. If you had asked me back then who I would have ended up marrying, I would have told you Shane, my long term boyfriend at the time. Never in a million years did I expect to marry Nick. Funny how things happen.

Our relationship wasn't easy from the start. For one thing, I was in Massachusetts and he was stationed in North Carolina. Oh, and there's that wonderful thing that every military wife/girlfriend/fiancee dreads: Deployment. There is nothing more heart wrenching than kissing the one person you love most in the world, and saying "see you later" (Cuz it's NEVER goodbye in a military relationship) and praying to God with all that you have in you that he will be safe for the next 210 days, give or take a few.

It wasn't even 2 months into Nick's second deployment to Iraq when it got ugly. I was woken up at 5:00 AM on May 24th to the sound of his voice. Normally, that was a great feeling. Not that morning. That morning brought bad news. "Our squad got hit by an IED while we were on a foot patrol earlier today." I shot up in bed, tears immediately pouring down my face. "I'm alright, I'm alright" he kept trying to reassure me. Of course he couldn't give me details. Nick, being the second to last in line, was one of the luckier ones. He ended up with a class 2 concussion (which would later create worse injuries) and some slight shrapnel wounds. One of his best friends later died due to injuries sustained that day, and another good friend lost his right leg. I spent the next 5 months of my life in fear. In fear that the next phone call I got from an unknown number or restricted number would be the call telling me my Marine was seriously injured, or even worse, dead. I don't think I literally breathed until the moment he was standing back in front of me.

Once he was home, things seemed to be back to normal. He proposed a month after he was home, and we got married about 2 and 1/2 months later, and I moved to be with him in NC a month after we got married. Once I was living with him full time, it became very apparent that he wasn't the same care free guy he was before his second deployment to Iraq. It became even worse when he was given word that he would have to deploy for a third time to Iraq in September. Even though he would be a short time deployer, he was encouraged to extend to serve the full amount of time in country. I think the reality of doing a third tour, and the possibility of losing more friends and more men, and possibly himself, pushed him to the brink. Our friend Rob (whom had lost his leg during the IED blast) suggested that Nick get checked for post traumatic stress syndrome and a traumatic brain injury. Things moved quickly after that. He tested positive for both PTSD and a TBI and was treated for both. He was put on limited duty, meaning no training for 6 months and no deployments, due to the fact that the next severe concussion he received could kill him. Things started to improve once he started treatment. Many people complain about the treatment out vets receive, but Nick received phenomenal treatment through the military and Tricare. He had a great therapist who finally got through to him, and got him to open up, and freely talk about May 23, 2008. He even started talking about re-enlisting into an MOS that would be non deployable or in a non combat role.

The re-enlistment never happened. He got strung along, saying it would be one more month and to extend for another month. When they finally denied his package due to no funds in the Marine Corps but to try again in September, he had no more extensions left. We were basically given a month's notice to pack up our lives in NC and move back to MA.We peaced out of NC and the Marine Corps Memorial Day weekend of this year.

The point of this blog is that the transition has NOT been easy. Everyone says the transition from Military to civilian is never easy. But nothing could have prepared me for this. It has got to be even harder when said Marine has PTSD mixed with a TBI. Both things were never really apparent to me in NC. Maybe it's because we lived in a town full of Marines and he felt comfortable. Maybe it was the fact that he still had a structured life while he was there. Maybe it's because people there understood him and didn't look at him any differently. Whatever it was, our lives in NC are nothing like they are here in MA. His anxiety is at an all time high. His nightmares seem to be getting worse. Everywhere we go, he has to be able to see the exists at all times, see who is coming and who is going, and has a plan to kill everyone if necessary. He's also drawn back into himself, and doesn't show emotion anymore. His mood swings are much worse, and he goes from what he calls Nick to Dick in about .2 seconds. We fight more often, because I don't know how to just walk away. It also doesn't help that we're currently at my mom's house while we wait to close on a  house. We have limited places to get away from each other.

No one here understands what I'm going through.Massachusetts isn't exactly known as a military state, or New England in general. I feel if I were to tell people about my feelings, they would think I am exaggerating or lying. Trust me, PTSD is no joke, and I would NEVER make shit up. It's just so hard to find someone around here that relates. The girls who understand me best lives thousands of miles away form me in states like Florida and Indiana. Thankfully technology has bridged the means of communication so it is easy to get in touch with these girls if needed...but it's not the same as being in the same room as them, and getting a hug from someone who understands and being able to cry on their shoulders. So I guess I'm doing this to try and get some shit off my mind and vent. I'm sick of acting like all is calm and good on the outside, when I;m screaming on the inside. It may not be pretty, but this is my life, the life married to a Marine OIF Combat Veteran. Semper Fidelis.