Tuesday, May 4

I'm starting our story from the day his deployment ended. These entries are composed from memory, my journal entries, and the notebook I used to log Jay's unusual behavior.

Admitted

I woke up when the alarm went off at 4:45am to find Jay sitting at the table tying his shoes. At least that was the last thing he was doing. He had fallen asleep mid lace. What a sight to see him fully asleep with his butt in the chair and his face nearly in his boot. Poor guy. I was so angry that even though he was being admitted to a psychiatric hospital today he was not excused from formation. Good God, heaven forbid he not show up to stand in the wet grass for ten minutes.

We made our way to the hospital in the city. Jay was so nervous and kept stalling. I practically had to drag him in there. It was absolutely the saddest day I can remember, short of a death in the family of course. I had packed his bag with three complete changes of clothes, tons of cigarettes, and his toiletries. He was allowed little else. No cellphone, no ipod, nothing. I helped get him admitted and hugged him as tightly as I could. I told him how I was so very proud of him and how I would come to visit him as soon as they let me. And then a very nice lady walked him thru the door and left me in the lobby. I made my way back to the car and sobbed til I could barely breathe.

I drove up to get Rush from Aunt B's. The sun was shining and the wind was blowing. I had the window down and as I crossed the big bridge that leaves the city from one state into another, a peacefulness washed over me and I knew that Jay was going to be ok. We have spent tons of time apart. Years in fact if you were to add it all up. But this was different. This time, he wasn't leaving to do something he had chosen to do. This time I felt like he was a victim and left to struggle thru treatment. A victim of the Taliban, a victim of our government, a victim of a navy doctor who did little when my husband was begging for help. But, I know that he is not truly a victim. Thanks to thousands of Vets before him, he is receiving treatment that was unheard of thirty, twenty, maybe even just ten years before.

I finally made it to Grannie's house and fell asleep in her recliner. This past eleven days had been the most exhausting of my life. I was thrilled to have my husband home, devastated by what he was up against and completely convinced that I needed so much help to get him well again. Where I thought in the beginning that I could just love this little problem away, I clearly see now that it is WAY bigger than me.