Gill Celliers
New Here
Hello - My first time here. I am nearly 60. I dont know what I am doing some days.
I think I was the wrong wife for the job. My father was an alcoholic, with all that entailed. t I find my behaviour reflects back to how life was in his household.
I was never physically abused, but he was a really intelligent man and when drunk, he used it wickedly. I married a war journalist - he showed me all the care and love I could ask for. He literally became the war journalist within a year of marriage.
It has now been 30 years. I dont know who I am and I dont think my daughter coped. My husband has been in all the war zones - Somalia, Yugoslavia, Rwanda, Libya, Afghanistan and Iraq - all of them. Flight in, return not confirmed, as date not known. Shot in Yugoslavia, blown up in Baghdad twice and then hijacked coming out of Baghdad for Jordan - he left without a convoy. He phoned and long distance I hear his fear and stress. He once phoned from Belgrade and over the line I could hear the bombing.
I held it together until 2003, after the hijacking - I told him I wasnt coping, and neither of us had a solution. He went back on assignment and I stopped sleeping, then became a bloody misery, then demanded a divorce. The kids caught in the middle. I didnt know something was going wrong - yeah yeah - old woman hitting menopause.
Then I lost it and tried suicide. He moved out and found a long lost girlfriend. For all the intent on divorce, neither of us signed, and got back together. Since then, I am my own pariah. I dont trust my feelings, I cant believe in my decision making, I have one reaction - run. If I cant run, I shut down like was the home life I had as a kid, or lose it again.It takes nothing to tip my boat. I have a kindle for the night waking - thank god the insomnia subsided - but have done the anti depressants, tranquillisers and all the counselling - even asked if I was bipolar as life inside my head is now the war zone.
Let me tell you, if you want to know about 24 hour television, watch things like invasion of Iraq - non stop. You get battered repeatedly. It was the only way I could see where he was. The calls were there, just not often. My kids have now left home and I feel I have exactly nothing left. I do a week at a time, it used to be a day. I never was able to count on planning a holiday or event, as a family, as you never knew if he would be there. His family - I hate them, they saw the wonderful, famous incredibly brave son and brother.
In my family, we literally mourned his departures and feared his returns - we lived hard in that moment, hurry up and have fun. They were never there in the rough, but sure showed up for the good times, big dinners, mob events. I - yes I - needed the world to stop at some point - not be swept along - I was cooked. There is no peace now.
I dont know if this is PTSD by proxy - no one here can deal with a unit like mine. I see there is an Australian site for the wives of away miners and service men - these travelling men are called FIFO - fly in, fly out. I want life to be happier - not overshadowed by how I have felt. I want trust and belief, warmth and no fear. It is all different now, but so am I and it isnt working. I want to leave- but dont want to be divorced, I still look for him, and like him close, but now it is punishment. Comment? Am I insane?
I think I was the wrong wife for the job. My father was an alcoholic, with all that entailed. t I find my behaviour reflects back to how life was in his household.
I was never physically abused, but he was a really intelligent man and when drunk, he used it wickedly. I married a war journalist - he showed me all the care and love I could ask for. He literally became the war journalist within a year of marriage.
It has now been 30 years. I dont know who I am and I dont think my daughter coped. My husband has been in all the war zones - Somalia, Yugoslavia, Rwanda, Libya, Afghanistan and Iraq - all of them. Flight in, return not confirmed, as date not known. Shot in Yugoslavia, blown up in Baghdad twice and then hijacked coming out of Baghdad for Jordan - he left without a convoy. He phoned and long distance I hear his fear and stress. He once phoned from Belgrade and over the line I could hear the bombing.
I held it together until 2003, after the hijacking - I told him I wasnt coping, and neither of us had a solution. He went back on assignment and I stopped sleeping, then became a bloody misery, then demanded a divorce. The kids caught in the middle. I didnt know something was going wrong - yeah yeah - old woman hitting menopause.
Then I lost it and tried suicide. He moved out and found a long lost girlfriend. For all the intent on divorce, neither of us signed, and got back together. Since then, I am my own pariah. I dont trust my feelings, I cant believe in my decision making, I have one reaction - run. If I cant run, I shut down like was the home life I had as a kid, or lose it again.It takes nothing to tip my boat. I have a kindle for the night waking - thank god the insomnia subsided - but have done the anti depressants, tranquillisers and all the counselling - even asked if I was bipolar as life inside my head is now the war zone.
Let me tell you, if you want to know about 24 hour television, watch things like invasion of Iraq - non stop. You get battered repeatedly. It was the only way I could see where he was. The calls were there, just not often. My kids have now left home and I feel I have exactly nothing left. I do a week at a time, it used to be a day. I never was able to count on planning a holiday or event, as a family, as you never knew if he would be there. His family - I hate them, they saw the wonderful, famous incredibly brave son and brother.
In my family, we literally mourned his departures and feared his returns - we lived hard in that moment, hurry up and have fun. They were never there in the rough, but sure showed up for the good times, big dinners, mob events. I - yes I - needed the world to stop at some point - not be swept along - I was cooked. There is no peace now.
I dont know if this is PTSD by proxy - no one here can deal with a unit like mine. I see there is an Australian site for the wives of away miners and service men - these travelling men are called FIFO - fly in, fly out. I want life to be happier - not overshadowed by how I have felt. I want trust and belief, warmth and no fear. It is all different now, but so am I and it isnt working. I want to leave- but dont want to be divorced, I still look for him, and like him close, but now it is punishment. Comment? Am I insane?
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