21 May 2013


I've been in a foul mood.

I've tried not to think about it ever, but it's invaded my subconscious and sat there quietly. Even though he's no longer in a war zone, I still feel like it's in the back of every military wife's mind. It's not like he sits at a computer in an office all day- he plays with explosives and guns and God knows what. Training accidents, while rare, have happened. All I'm saying is, considering the line of work Chris does, it would be unrealistic to say that the unspeakable could never happen.

Suddenly, my dad is experiencing what has been my ultimate biggest fear for several years. I think my dad's situation has hit me more profoundly than expected because of that. I feel so strange at how easy it is to put myself in my dad's shoes right now. And think about all the crazy pain he's feeling.
Not to mention, when you hear of such horrible news, especially when it happens to someone so close, you want to go home and cuddle the ones you love. My inability to do so, compounded with the fact that it's been nearly 6 months without so much as a fingertip graze, is wearing on me.

I also feel guilty, even though I know I shouldn't be. I've feared this type of thing for so long, yet my husband is alive and well and calling me a toot in facebook messages and sending me random flowers. In a way, in the background of my mind, I've somewhat mentally prepared myself for such a tragedy. Even Chris has filed funeral arrangements, insurance information, and goodbye letters with the military, in the event that such a thing would happen. My dad had none of that. He had absolutely no reason to suspect that this might happen to her, to him.

It makes me scared that this emptiness I've felt for so long might never get to be filled. I have nothing except looking forward to the day when I get to finally feel happy and whole. I feel so weary from the waiting.

All of these feels have suddenly piled up on top of the long-developed weariness, and it's impossible to conceal. I need to be able to go home after a long stressful day, especially after a family member dies, and hug my husband. I need my rock here. I'm physically and emotionally tired of being my own rock.

It's rough. Rougher than I should probably let it be. It's not about me, however it affects me, and I have to continue to be strong and it's exhausting.

I know that I joke about how the stench would be great, but if something happened to him, I would just shut. down. I would never be the same person. Same goes for my siblings. They're just too important; they make me who I am.

You know, even though none of you will probably understand this, writing this out made me feel a bit better. Yay blog. And wine.

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