Preface

Here we go. My husband always tells me that our life is private and that I should not go blogging about it. So this blog will not timeline the life we both have. This will not tell anyone about everyday activities we do. This blog will tell of how I feel. That's fair, right? 

Wrong. People need to understand that being a military wife is the hardest job a person can have. I can only imagine the wives with family. When I hear of a lady who marries a military person at this point, I always say "good luck." Why?

It's a tough job. It's not like any other marriages. If one thinks marriage is complicated, a military marriage is chaos. You'll question yourself. You'll look back and wonder what the foundation of our relationship was. You confuse yourself as a monster or an irresponsible wife. 

I love my husband. I care a lot. But I stopped showing emotions because he does not understand. He says I don't understand. In fact I do. But I can't explain it so logically, I don't understand. 

There are days that are jolly. There are days that I'm happy. There are days that I'm annoyed. There are days that I'm irritated. There are days that I feel like giving up. Does this make me a monster?

A friend once told me "So, your husband signs a death penalty, gives his blood sweat and tears for your country; and you treat him like shit?" It was funny at first but I realized. I guess I'm being too harsh to him. 

Sometimes he will ask me a question and I will answer with an irritated voice. I find myself raising my voice a lot. A co-worker once told me that she learned tips and tricks from her counselor. "Tell him how you feel like 'I'm upset at you' or something." I tried that and lately his answer is "I always irritate you" or "You're always upset at me." What am I doing wrong?

All I want to say is that he's wasting his precious time moping about how messed up he is. There are people who have lost limbs and are still hopeful and motivated. He just really lost it all. It saddens me to see him so weak when he can have all the energy in the world. Nobody will tell him that he's fine. He's a Marine; who went to war; who came back fucked up. Nothing will ever make him better. But there are activities that will make him feel better. 

His PTSD consumed him so much that he is worse than a paraplegic. 

I wish I can blink and find myself in Disneyland with a red balloon and a cone of chocolate ice cream, smiling back at Mickey Mouse.