They don’t ever talk about young adult angst…..

Well, at least they don’t have a word for it.

What career path is this? Am I supposed to be married? What happened to all my best friends? Why do I suddenly miss my family when I used to hate them? Why does feel like I am straddling a crack between responsibility and young wanderlust?!

This is not quite as bad as middle or high school but, damn, it is quite awkward and brutal at times.

I am 24. In the grand scheme of my life, this is young (I hope) . A few years ago, I would have argued with you if you called me young! I would have been annoyed if you told me that I did not know anything yet!

I really thought that I knew it all because I had become an “adult”.

But here I am on a Sunday,  feeling one part bored, one big part lonely from missing family, and two parts guilty over not going to church – still, even though I left my parent’s religion a decade ago. Good ole Catholic Guilt!

When you graduate college, there is the general stress of getting a good job. However, there is also this buzz of excitement that seems to quell some of the fears. You get pretty excited about a steady income and the ability to buy and rent this and that.

That excitement, of course, then turns to stress and “too-late”-realizations that you should have done more research on interest rates…

But then you are suddenly in your third of fourth year out of school. Time seems to pass more quickly as you get older, doesn’t it?

You have settled in a new place. You’re doing pretty good, sure. But you are also thousands of miles away from family. The one adventurous spirit is now being put in check by wanting that unconditional love within arm’s reach. You are also starting to realize that all your friends have their own lives. No one is held together in one place by school or family anymore. You start to run out of similar things to talk about with some people. Many of them move all over the globe. You stay in touch but you don’t have them here. Suddenly, you are in a brand new place with new beginnings and the frightening possibility that you have to GO FIND FRIENDS BY YOURSELF in this vast place.

and that is happening right about the same time that you are realizing that you actually know jack crap about the world. All your strong opinions about the world start to take on a new, interconnected light. Things aren’t as simple.

Don’t forget the part where you start to realize you aren’t who you thought either!

“You mean to say that I am a loud-mouthed, opinionated, self-conscious space cadet?!”

And with that comes the realization that you are at an age where you cannot blame it on being young anymore. You gotta step up and start doing the right things for yourself, by yourself.

Which leads you to the new realization that you now have to be responsible for everything in a much bigger way. You must choose your words carefully and your actions with as much wisdom as you can dig out of your still young self.

This angst reminds me of being an adolescent but it is riddled with even more responsibility and self-realization. These are two things you can no longer hide from behind the cloak of “being young and stupid”.

This is all necessary, I know. One day I will look back and think something completely different about this time period, I’m sure.

For now, I am going to try and do the same thing I did when I was teen: write about it and then go watch TV…

Strength

Very vividly, I remember this one night in my driveway. I was in  high school, standing in front of my parent’s garage, crying my eyes out. I was feeling absolutely awful about something. It was most likely a break-up or something to do with my parents or friends. Funny, how it was so important at the time but the reason is lost on me now.  Anyways, I was sobbing and feeling like giving up on everything. I squeaked out between sobs that I “wasn’t strong enough to do this”.

One of my best friends was with me.

And he said to me, “You ARE strong, Sarah. You are stronger than you know. Just because you can’t see it inside the tornado right now, you ARE strong.”

And I asked him why. He said that was something I would have to believe myself.

Strength, what the hell is it, anyways? I didn’t feel strong at all. I felt incredibly weak.

As time passed, I lived a life I am not particularly proud of. I was easily depressed and crying. Life was up and down and up and down again. I had a hard time dealing with self-harm and I definitely threw myself pity parties. Looking back, I see that I had some reason for being this emotional. I wish I had not been, that I had been strong. But, I didn’t have the skills or people to teach me how to deal with tragedy. And tragedy is relative.

I have to admit that I was too quick to give up too many times. I was one to run away from the stress and pain. I threw inanimate objects in moments of frustration and lack of control. I took anger and sadness out on every body as I constantly acted like a frightened animal caught in a trap. I kept saying to myself that this needs to change, it really needed to change! But I didn’t have the skills or experience or people to help me and it was a long time before I realized that I needed to be my own hero.

Strength. What the hell is it?

My partner deployed this weekend.

It is a feeling that is quite like a punch in the gut. Or like someone is slowly clawing out chunks of your heart and you are trying to hold them in.

But, despite the fact that the love of my life has just been sent to a war zone with no promise of contact, no routine, no chance of simply calling her to comfort me (she is my rock)….I am taking this quite well.

I sobbed a good 5 minutes driving down the H1….and then decided, with a little help from my friends, to pick myself up and move on. I made the decision that I could not let the negative bullshit win. I could not dwell, allow myself to suffer, or throw myself pity parties.

I needed to be strong. For my partner, yes. Stolen phone calls and skype dates are not meant to be spent sobbing and bitching and turning fear into anger.

I needed to be strong for myself. I needed to focus on the positive to keep myself going every day. I need to teach kids, pay bills, feed and walk the dogs, communicate home, be a rock for my partner…..and damnit, I deserve to enjoy this life, despite this speed bump.

But why was it so much easier this time? Things like this would have torn me apart a few years ago. But I was going through a lot then. Learning to be alone and not knowing how to be. Coming out and being rejected by everyone, even my church. Having my parents kick me out. Losing my first love to her cheating on me and leaving me behind. I mean, it sucked….and I was stuck as a minor in a crap situation and no support. So maybe strength is about your surroundings.

In college, I went through LDAC. This is a month of ROTC training that is kind of like bootcamp for future officers/an evaluation system in combat and leadership skills. In 2010, Kelsey shipped out to Ft. Lewis only to be reached by letters.

And I mourned. Literally. My brain kept saying, “dude, she’s in the US, safe and sound, sitting in some tent but safe. She will write you and call you when she can and she will be home in 28 days. This is NOTHING like some people go through.”

But my heart was reacting as if she died. It was REALLY weird. Part of this, I blame on that time of the month, but I sobbed a whole lot. I had BAD anxiety. I barely functioned or thought straight. Part of this problem was also that ALL of my good friends had just moved very far away, family was an 8 hr drive away and we weren’t on good terms, I had no classes and no work…my option was to sit at home and I wasn’t brave or strong enough to suck it up and go try something new.

Then SERE happened. That was 21 somewhat scary days. Absolutely no contact allowed at all and I knew what happened during SERE-C.  I worked a little and had no friends (we had just moved) but I focused on things that made me happy this time. I worked out when I felt sad. I went running every morning. I painted the house. i indulged in silly things like ordering pizza whenever I wanted. I went on road trips. I sucked it up and held it in for 21 days. Not long at all.
I mean, I still cried twice (blaming it on the crimson tide) and I was still kind of checked out and daydreaming a lot but it was BETTER.

Just like my second big break up was better.

So then, what is Strength? Maybe it is an exercised thing. Maybe it takes practice and experience. In fact, as I am writing this, I am seeing that each of those trainings came at the worst possible timing…..which has made this seem better.

Maybe it is mind over matter. Maybe it is ignorance or mind-trickery. I’m not really sure.

I’m not even sure that I am STRONG….but I definitely stronger than before.
I have only let a few tears escape since saying goodbye. I have kept myself busy. I have only been positive on the phone or on text. I am making plans and getting myself out there. I am trying to kick ass.

And when she comes home, I will still be strong, but that is when I will let all the inside out. I will probably cry but I will also be happy.

This is only three months. It is not forever. It is nothing near what people have and will continue to go through.

And I still have the most important thing….love, which is why I really think I am strong. That, and the belief in myself that I can be my own hero. That it is my responsibility and my right. That I will succeed and this will be as positive as it can be despite the suckitude of deployments.

And I will look back and say, “Sarah, you ARE strong. Stronger than you know. And you will only get stronger.”