The reality of it all

An hour and a half in the car today sparked a lot of thoughts amidst the car karaoke. I felt clarity for a brief moment through the clouds that rained on me this morning. I have come to the realization that my own mind is holding me prisoner.

I am a prisoner to the horrible thoughts that visit me when I lay my head on the pillow and try to fall asleep every night. I feel like a paranoid schizophrenic that is trapped in hallucinations every time I have a quiet moment to myself. The truth is I have always forced myself to face the possible realities. What if something happened to my parents, when I was younger. What if something happened to one of my children. What if something happens to my husband. I have never been able to NOT think like this. The way I see it.. is I have to prepare myself for the what if.. because if I don't.. and something happens.. I will be that person that completely snaps because they thought nothing bad could happen.

Now don't get me wrong.. I don't consume myself with morbid thoughts... but as things change.. distance separates us more and more.. it is really hard to not let the "what if's" impact my thoughts.

I know that there may be days where I have to force myself out of bed. Which is horrible enough for me to admit because I am a mom.. and my children need me. But the truth is, there is no one to pick me up, hold my hand, wipe my tears and tell me everything will be ok. No one knows that everything will be ok. We say that because we need have to have something to fill the void.

So while I appreciate the hugs.. the support.. the prayers... know that what I really need is to find a way to come to terms with everything in my own way.. on my own time. I am a military wife. I may never be fully prepared for the car to pull up infront of my house; or that phone call in the middle of the night... and this is my way of coping with the reality that these are potential outcomes that come with this lifestyle. I know it's so much easier to say "just live every day"... but telling me not to worry.. is like telling a nun not to pray. (I know.. ironic analogy..shut it.)

I knew what we signed up for.. I knew when we made this decision together. I just never anticipated it to all happen so quickly. But it did.. and I am dealing with it. Maybe not in the way that everyone sees fit.. but in a way that works for me.. for now. As my friend... as my family.. as someone who supports me... know that what works for me is allowing myself to wallow in self pitty when I feel the need; shutting the world out until I feel like a functioning member of society again; or not answering your calls because I know that hearing your voice may be the straw that breaks what little strength I have found that day.

I am broken. I am alone. I am beyond scared.

I am strong. I am a fighter. I am and have always been, a survivor.

This is the reality of it all.