Crying in Closets

Every day I am faced with the realization of how ridiculous my life is. The abnormality of my schedule is really starting to take it's toll on me. Today I found myself locked in the darkness of my closet just to get some peace, take some deep breaths and yes, cry a little. It's not that my life is so bad. In fact I have a very blessed life and everything that I need is supplied for me more often than not. I'm just tired of not seeing my husband on a regular basis, and I know I'm not the only one and I shouldn't complain... I hate being a whiner. But here is what my week looks like:
If you didn't already know, Martin, my hubby, works the night shift. He gets up at 8;30pm Sunday through Thursday and comes home around 7am. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, he goes to morning classes. On those days he makes it home for a late lunch and then it's off to sleep at 2pm. Tuesdays and Thursdays are sometimes spent going somewhere together for the morning. Of course he have to plan our outings around two young boys as well so that is often a challenge too. This week however, I didn't get to spend this morning with him, and I won't get Thursday either because he's working on a computer consulting job. Which I am thrilled and proud and excited for him, because he's beginning a dream- this is what he wants to be doing, but I also feel a little resentment... guilty resentment, but it's there nonetheless. Those hours, those few morning hours are supposed to be mine.

I don't want to feel this way, like the other half of my team is missing because I know he's working so hard to do what he can for our family. It would be so much easier to justify my feelings if he didn't care, if he wasn't the most wonderful husband in the world, and the best most loving daddy.
Before he started this night shift position, we did everything together. I never went anywhere alone, and if I did it was never with the boys in tow. I felt incapable. We always did things as a family even if it was just running to the store to stock up on toilet paper. We'd make it fun because we were out doing it together. Maybe we'd stop for a coffee on the way and have a good chat about something new.
I miss the way things used to be. I miss casually watching a rented movie together in our living room. We never have two consecutive hours together. We tried watching a movie in segments before he went to work one week, but that was like torture. It took us four nights to see the entire movie, and it's just not the same when you know your husband is going to walk out the door in half an hour. You can't just relax. You know the bed you sleep in will be cold and empty, and once he leaves you'll finish the bowl of popcorn or ice cream or m&ms all by yourself. And every skitter the cat makes, or bark out the window will make you jump, because your alone. And the worst part is, every night is the same. It's not like he's just gone for a fishing trip with his brother for the weekend, it's night after night after night.
Oh yeah and did I mention we don't get to spend weekends together either? nope, he's got to stay on his schedule so it doesn't mes up his sleep pattern. So if we want a date night or if we want to do anything... we really have to plan it. Occasionally he'll sleep Friday morning so that we can go out Friday night, but nothing can be spontaneous. And we are always working against time.
So today I went into the closet. It wasn't my first time. I turned out the light, closed the door wishing that it would all go away... go back to the way it used to be. I knew it was pointless, but I'm in a tunnel- a BIG, LONG tunnel and I can't see the light shining at the other end. People tell me it will get better, and that there is a light somewhere out there. I believe you... I've told people this exact same thing, but the person who's in the dark doesn't want to hear that, they want to hear that's it's okay. It's okay to feel this way... like you can't go on and you want to give up. I do want to give up- every day I meet that moment and I have to face it. Sometimes i push through, I surprise myself by being strong. Other days I cry in the closet where my kids can't see or hear me, and I tell myself it's okay.