I am past my anger, and have dealt with the overwhelming grief. I still talk to God and thank Him for what I do have. But lately it seems as though those around me who mean the most to me are vanishing. Or, if you prefer the slightly more morbid term, they are dropping like flys.
Honestly I really don't even know where to begin. It would have been smart of me to start this blog a few years ago, but I didn't. So I guess I should start somewhere in the middle.
Hi, my name is N and I
As of February, he is medically retired. 29 years old and already retired and disabled. Pretty crappy the way things turn out some times. So what did it in for him? PTSD, TBI's (yes, that is plural), a stroke, and at high risk for an additional stroke and a heart attack. Mostly the PTSD and TBI's though. Doctors say one more hit to the head can do it in for him.
So what does this have to do with me? Well, this is where the nightmare started (minus a couple months).
The man I married (after two horrid deployments) was kind, thoughtful, respectful, honorable, faithful, and loving. He treated me as though I actually mattered. And I believed him. This went on for the first 3 years of our marriage. Then he came home from deployment #3, which just happened to be quite uneventful, thank God. It started out with little things...why aren't the kids toys picked up? Why would you cook the veggies this way and not that way? What's your problem? Why do you look like that? Which eventually escalated to getting cussed out every day and breaking things--out bursts he doesn't even remember. The man I married is a distant memory and most days, it seems, I don't really care for this new guy. I know, I know. "Then why are you still with him?" My family, friends, and even I have asked the very same million dollar question. I wish that I had a solid answer for you. The best I can come up with is that despite the Hell we have been through, I still love the man. Romantic? Nope. Pathetic? Probably. Every time I get to the point where I have had enough and I'm ready to throw in the towel...someone else dies. Honestly it should make me want to leave him more since he can't handle me being upset and just ends up yelling at me about it (Why are you even upset? Your grandma was old--she lived a full life. Your dad was sick, you should be happy he passed. Your Aunt got what she wanted when she committed suicide. I know Bill was like a second father to you, but get over it!)<---This is actually really mild compared to what I was told. You want a hug? Go find a new husband. You want to be comforted? Go find a new husband. You want someone who acts like he gives a damn? Go find a new husband. But it didn't work that way. All I have left in this world is my mom, kid, and him. Sure I have some good friends and all, but it just isn't the same. And did I mention that they all died in a 10 month period?
I'm a little better now then I was at first. I used to be angry at everyone. I used to burst into tears when someone who actually knew my dad mentioned him. I used to cry silently in my room every night before slipping into a restless sleep. Now, I feel it in my chest when someone mentions him, but I can keep my outward emotions at bay. And the guilt! I should have visited more. I should have called that night I was thinking I needed to (the night he passed). I should have sent him more pictures. The guilt is unforgiving.
Here I am, sitting in my room, writing to a bunch of strangers because my family and friends don't need to bear the burden of my life choices and circumstances.
I guess I will end this here. Quite the whiny novel I have started out with...and this was supposed to be a blog about healing and moving on. Maybe it'll help me to accomplish this as long as I stay honest.
Whoever you are, wherever you are...may life be kinder to you.
Good night for now.
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