Tangled Web We Weave

     If you are reading this, I want to thank you for allowing me an outlet in this crazy life.  So much changed this weekend and I have a lot of praying to do to figure out where I go from here.  
    
     Mr. Battle committed adultery again.  This time there are no excuses.  His meds are good, his head was on straight, and he had enough cognition to cover his tracks and create an alibi.  His indiscretions in the past were forgiven due to his out of control mental illnesses, drugs, and alcohol issues.  So now what?

     I needed some time alone and rather than me getting the time I needed, he grabbed a loaded gun and pointed it at his head.  I called the police (because they know and care for him) who were able to talk him down after an hour of work.  They told me to go inside, so I did.  I called my brother in law who deployed with Mr. Battle to see if he could come up as Mr. Battle would stop to think before ending his life in front of him.  My sister wasn't home and he had the kids, so I called my minister to see if he could babysit (he lives in the area) and as I was giving him directions, I thought he did it.  It sounded like he actually did it.  

     There was a desperate scream, "STOP!"
     And then there was a loud "POP!"

     My heart stopped.  I started rambling in fear and panic, my minister started praying.  I tried to see outside without leaving the house, but I couldn't see anything.  It felt like hours went by before one of the cops came by the front door.   

     Thumbs up.

     I let out a long breath I hadn't known I was holding.  

How did we get here?  How did this happen?

This time was way too close.

     So now what?  Mr. Battle is in the mental hospital.  I have more praying and soul searching to do.  Kid Battle is having tantrums over small, insignificant things that her sweet little 6 year old mind can process.  

We have fallen backwards at least three years.

     Please pray for my family.     

Without Trust...

   

   Trust is a major issue in our world.  Mr. Battle gets mad and frustrated with me because I don't fully trust him--but why would I?  We are rebuilding and once you have betrayed your spouses trust, the only way to earn it back is to have a clean track record for however long until she feels comfortable with you in whatever area it was you betrayed her.  So for us, there is A LOT of trust issues.  Mr. Battle cheated many times with multiple women and has had some somewhat recent backpage logs--so we're still working on this one.  Mr. Battle has put us in financial ruins more than once and went out of control on his spending at Christmas (not as bad as he has in the past, but still a lot) so we're working on that.  Mr. Battle lied to me for years and still seems to think that white lies aren't real lies and he favors the phrase "don't worry about it."  

     What worries me more than anything is when he says, "Don't worry about it."  This is a HUGE red flag, siren, warning, flashing lights, the whole shabang.  What's so hard though is that we are trying to move forward.  I learn from my mistakes, so turning a blind eye and ignoring the warnings is not an option.  Mr. Battle would like it all to disappear like magic.  Unfortunately real life is nothing like the movies.  It's messy, and painful, and time consuming.  

     The hardest part (other than healing from past hurts) is that I want to trust him.  He's my husband, my partner, my battle, and my penguin.  Baby steps.

     So what happens when you are still working towards the trust?  Well, when your credit card is stolen and Mr. Battle decides to go somewhere other than the gym--then $300 on the card goes missing...yep!  The questions.  Alllllll the questions!  Was it actually stolen, or did Mr. Battle take it out of my wallet and use it towards something he doesn't want me to find out about?  Is he telling the truth?  Should I feel bad for doubting him, or should I continue to doubt him?  Supposedly he reported it missing to the bank, but unless the money is refunded back to the account, I won't know for sure since the bank won't talk to me about his credit cards.

     Any one else been here?  Let me know!

God Bless!
 

CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW?!

The fights...oh man, the FIGHTS!

Loud.

Angry.

Cruel.

Hateful.

Insulting.

Painful...

     Being the spouse of a disabled vet with PTSD, TBI, and Bi Polar is hard enough, but let me tell you...being the spouse AND the caregiver?  Ouch.

     Sometimes it is so hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel when this world begins to consume you.  Things have been decent lately.  Mr. Battle has been pretty stable up until today.  Today was nothing compared to what we have been through, but it still hurts.

     The anger started when I turned the heat up in the truck on our way home.  Silly me, I hadn't planned to be out when the temp dropped to 3.  He turned the temp down, I didn't say anything--and you can feel it coming.  This time it came on slowly, quietly.  He made comments about how it doesn't make sense to him why I wouldn't dress warmer than I had (I had three layers on) and that it's senseless to wear inappropriate clothing for the temperature only to get in the truck and blast the heat so that he and Kid Battle were sweating in their jackets.  Then we pick up Kid Battle.  I make the mistake of asking her why she forgot her lunch and telling her she needed to locate her lunch box when we got home.  So, of course, Mr. Battle starts in on her.  Slowly, quietly--escalating.  In an attempt to diffuse the situation faster, I keep quiet.  Mr. Battle (enraged but trying to cover it) asks what's wrong with me.  I tell him that there isn't anything wrong and that I should have planned ahead better for the cold.  This is where I went wrong.  I thought the fight was over.  We go home, Mr. Battle retreats to the basement, Kid Battle goes to her room, and I go up to my room.

     Fast forward a couple of hours.  I am told by a friend that Mr. Battle has been reaching out to a person who has been toxic and has created a lot of drama for us that we cut out of our lives (I was already sensitive to this because I had just found out that this person joined a group he knew we were a part of and has continued to try and push and manipulate his way back into our world, our glass house) so I asked Mr. Battle if he had been in contact with this person prior to today.  He LOST IT.  Yep, still pissed from earlier today.  Enter yelling, name calling, and the all too familiar "You are a shitty caregiver and I would be better off without you, so GO FIND A JOB" bullshit.  Thanks Babe.  Means a lot to know that you appreciate all the sacrifices I have made in my life to be here for you.

     Some people were not made to be stay-at-home anythings.  I am one of those people.  I had dreams.  I had goals.  I had aspirations.  I was top of my class in nursing school--and I was two months from graduating.  I found a job after quitting nursing school to move here and take care of him.  I was good at it.  I loved my residents.  I enjoyed my co-workers.  I made decent money.  I was doing something for me.  And once again--Mr. Battle needed me, so I took an emergency leave of absence until he was stabilized again--until he begged me to quit my job and stay home with him because he felt unsafe.  So I did.

     And here I am, one more fight--reassuring my feelings that I haven't done shit with my life.  Worse yet, I have failed my family yet again.  I am a shitty caregiver, a shitty wife, and a shitty mom.  I gave up everything to take care of my family, and I am failing.

     It sucks ya'll.  One step forward.  Three steps back.  I keep a lot to myself because I get tired of putting our issues off on my friends and family.  I fear at some point they will stop understanding and start judging.  This life--it is so unbelievably lonely.  As I write this, Mr. Battle and Kid Battle are asleep downstairs, and I am sitting on my bed, crying.  Again.  

     This is how it has to be.  I can't cry in front of Mr. Battle, it makes everything worse.  So I suck it up, stiff upper lip, and when I know for sure it is safe--I break down.

I suppose I better go take a bath, try to relax.  G'night ya'll.

God Bless. 

Na...Na...Na...Nanny!

     

     Last week we had an intake meeting with Operation TBI Freedom (btw, if you haven't heard of the program before, LOOK INTO IT!)  During the interview process they try to find out what areas of need you and your family have that aren't being met such as finances, medical coverage, counseling, support, etc.  It took me a few minutes to come up with a need that we have because we really are in a much better situation than a lot of veterans.  When I finally realized what that need was, it hit me pretty hard.  Kid Battle!  Kid Battle is far beyond her years due to all that she has been exposed to as far as hospitals, doctors, emergencies, first responders, etc.  I made an executive decision a couple months after school started for her to be in all day kindergarten and enrolled her in before and after care in an effort to minimize her exposure to so many adults issues.  She had gotten to a point where she would ask me on Sundays, "Mom, what appointments do we have this week?"  No 6 year old should have to be this way or feel this way, and it became glaringly obvious with this question that she was there!  She was at that point where we needed to make a choice.  Do we continue down this path where we rob her of her childhood, or do we intervene and fight for her?  I chose to fight for her.  Every once in a while she will ask what appointments we have, but we choose to be honest but short with our answers.  Mr. Battle is no longer in crisis and he recently graduated the residential PTSD program for the second time.  We are in the calm again.  However, we still have a lot of doctors appointments, counseling appointments, and situations that she doesn't need to be exposed to.  

     Now we are facing the summer where my options for care for her to keep her out of the PTSD/Veteran/Post Battle life are down to a whole lot of things we cannot afford.  Summer camp at the preschools?  $250 per week.  Babysitters?  $15 per hour.  Day camp?  $445 per week.  Sleep away camp?  $950 per week.  Nanny?  $500 per week.  Live in nanny?  $200 per week plus annual $8,000 fee plus $400 finder fee.  Are. You. Kidding. Me?!  I remember being paid $20 a NIGHT for babysitting 3 kids!  My mom owned a preschool for 18 years and charged $125 a week for school agers in the summer program, which included all meals and activities!  That was only 4 years ago!  I've been looking for a live in nanny who can be here during emergencies and to possibly lessen the financial blow by providing room and board, but it seems there aren't very many options.  I know there will be those people who say "Your kids are your biggest investment, why wouldn't you want to pay more for them?!"  I have news for you.  Parents have a whole lot of out of pocket costs.  Let me put it this way.  Do I pay the babysitter (who is still in high school, can't drive, no education, and barely any experience) $15 per hour to supervise my insanely independent 6 year old who preps her own meals, bathes herself, entertains herself, and will even put herself to bed when tired before 8PM---OR do I pay the mortgage payment, car payment, insurance payment, feed crappy pre-packaged food such as ramen when she needs to be eating GF because she will drop weight? (BTW, Kid Battle is as tall as an 8 year old and only weighs 40lbs even though she eats more food in one sitting than three 15 year old boys).  This really is the predicament parents face.  

     So, back to my issue.  We have some appointments weekly that she cannot attend (counseling, marriage counseling), some appointments bi-weekly that she shouldn't attend, and some monthly that she also shouldn't attend.  What am I going to do this summer?  Do I expose her to more hospitals and doctors and this painful, chaotic PTSD life?  Or do I cut corners in other areas that are important in order to afford that $250 per week for summer camp?  

     Last night we were in the ER until 0100 again.  Mr. Battle was experiencing shooting pains in his abdomen, light headedness, and nausea.  Kid Battle fell asleep in the chair in the room he was in.  She has been in the hospital and ER with us so often that she actually feels at home there.  So not okay.  Don't get me wrong, I don't want her to be afraid of doctors and hospitals, but for this to be home away from home because of her daddy's health problems is heart wrenching.  I received a response to an ad I posted paying $100 per week for a live in nanny room and board included, her profile says she charges $250-$400 per week, but she said she is interested in showing us support because of our situation.  I'll be contacting her to see if she is okay with a lower wage (most weeks will be fewer than 20 hours of care) than what she is asking.  I don't enjoy doing this, but we cannot afford $250 per week.

     If ya'll know anyone in the Colorado Springs area in need of a live in nanny job who is willing to take $100 per week, and is dependable, trustworthy, kind, experienced with kids, let me know!

     God Bless you all, and may your paths be lined with beauty.

Heavy Heart

     This past week, I headed out to TN to visit a dear friend of mine I haven't seen in four years.  At some point, I will let ya'll know about my trip, but tonight I just want to cry.  
     
     Two of the men who deployed with Mr. Battle ended their lives this week.  Then I logged on to Facebook, noticed a blogger I have been following for several years finally posted again.  She has been AWOL since October.  I figured she was dealing with family, or her health issues, or the craziness that we have been.  Holiday season is a very difficult time of year for a lot of us.  Come to find out...her husband ended his life on New Years.  Reading her post was heartbreaking and terrifying.  I became an avid reader of her blog due to the sheer amount of similarities between their story and ours! 

     There are times when I complain about the things we have endured, Mr. Battle's behaviors, the sacrifices made and at times I think for what?!  THIS.  THIS IS FOR WHAT!  This is why we fight!  This is why we sacrifice!  This is why we continue to struggle, and go to appointments, and counseling, and keep in touch with the PD, FD, and paramedics!  And yet, it happens anyways!  The woman who writes that blog is strong, fierce, has sacrificed, advocated...she has done every. thing. 

     She has three boys.  Three boys who have fought the battle right along with them, and now have lost their father despite all of their love and hope.  The conversation they must have had...can you imagine?!  And this is happening to 22 families a day!  

     I cried for her family last night.  I cried for all of the families last night.  I cried for the veterans who felt this was necessary.  And I cried for us.  I cried for me.  I cried for Kid Battle.  I cried for Mr. Battle.  So many tears are shed, so much pain created, so much destruction left behind.  And there are no words.

     I will be praying for all of the victims of suicide, including the families.  I ask you to as well.  God bless you all.

 
    
   

Sunday Funday!

     Right now, I should be packing for TN.  Right now, I should be sweeping and mopping my upper level floors, possibly the main level too.  Right now, I should be making Kid Battle's lunch for tomorrow.  Right now, I should be throwing miscellaneous items in to the washing machine, taking out the trash, and throwing some vinegar in my jetted tub to swirl around for a while.  But right now, at 10:01PM, I am writing a blog because...I feel like it.  To be perfectly honest, I may finish up here (or save this for later) and go take a nice, hot, comforting and relaxing bath before I go throw some vinegar in there.  And I am perfectly okay with that.

     We had a pretty darn good weekend, all things considered.  Our kinda sorta sis-in-law moved all of her things on Saturday with the help of her step dad and his friend.  They kicked some serious butt!  There wasn't any drama, foul words, or disdain being thrown around, so that's a win!  I even was told by her bestie and her step dad that they are sorry it came to this, but they know what it's like to live with her, and she will have to figure it out.  Side note: Said bestie might be asking her to move out of her place already too.  I have compassion for her situation and I hope her the best in life as I would like to see her and my nephew succeed.  As a very dear friend of mine said, there is a season for everything.  There was a season for her to stay with you, and now the season has changed and it is the season for her to move on.  I agree with her.  

     Mr. Battle had a much better weekend as well.  We spent some time at Build-A-Bear in the mall.  He made a Toothless and an Olaf to attach to his backpack.  Yes, he has over-sized backpack buddies.  Whatever he needs to do to get through each day (preferably with a smile) is fine by me.  I might even be a tad bit jealous...

     Kid Battle made a Twilight Sparkle.  It was a very good day.  

     Mr. Battle is back at the VA in the PTSD Unit.  He is struggling again today with thoughts and beliefs that I would be better off without him.  Happier, even.  No matter the obstacles and struggles we have had together, I love the stuffing out of that man and I can't, nor do I want to, imagine my life or a world without him in it.  Yes, things are hard a lot of the time.  Yes, there are times where I would love to go to the bathroom by myself.  Yes, certain tasks or goals are more difficult to do now, but that doesn't mean that his place in my home, my heart, or our family unit has shrunk or become less imperative because of the changes.  He IS important and he plays a vital role in my life and in Kid Battle's life.  Do I think that there is only ONE person out there for each of us?  I honestly don't know.  I mean, I believe that the ONE is the person who you chose and who chose you (with God's guidance) and every time you choose him/her rather than throwing in the towel it solidifies their role as THE ONE for you.  I choose Mr. Battle.  He chooses me.  And I believe that GOD brought us together in the beginning for a reason.  

     One thing that I have learned in being a part of a church family is that everyone has struggles.  Everyone feels pain.  Everyone has a choice what to do in those situations, and it is not my place nor anyone else's place to judge.  Blessed are the Cracked.

     If you don't hear from me for a while, I am on VACATION! with two of my girls from when we were stationed at FT Wainwright in Fairbanks, AK.  It has been 4 years since we have all gotten together so it should be fun!  Also, fun fact!  The friend we are traveling to--doesn't know that our friend who lives in WA is coming.  SURPRISE!

     Happy January, and Hello February!

 

Rub-a-Dub-Dub

     Welp, my trusty readers...the countdown is on for another weekend.  I am happy to announce that I honestly do not feel dread, fear, stressed at all!  The amazing bath that I just took may have contributed to this.  Have I mentioned that I've started bathing more?  I shower regularly, usually...but this new bath time/tub time/jetted-bubbly-unwind time complete with Norah Jones, has put me back into a non raging demon wife.  Thank you God for jetted tubs and Ms. Jones!  
     
     Facebook is a handy tool on occasion.  I found out that a friend of mine's daughter is being bullied regularly by a group of boys for a while now.  When I say "bullied" I do mean more of assault.  They have been assaulting this sweet 12 year old girl who doesn't have a mean or nasty bone in her body.  Her mom has gone to the teacher, principal, administrators for the district, and the MP's.  The situation was "investigated" and the findings were that three of the four boys said they didn't do it, the fourth boy said they did and he named the other three.  The outcome?  Little girl gets detention for reporting it, and honest boy is the only one held accountable.  Unfortunately this is a discrimination case, yet it is doubtful that with all the uproar in the media that anything will be done to fix it.  Why?  Because the little girl is white, the four boys are black.  They go after her because she is white and the name they call her by as they are busy throwing her to the ground and kicking her is "little white girl."  When will this nation, leaders, etc come to realize that racial discrimination can go many directions?  I don't care what color, race, religion, or voting status is--if you are being targeted because of it, THAT IS DISCRIMINATION!  It is heartbreaking that the school and district are not only refusing to help her, but are also punishing her and her family every time it is reported.  Her mom and I have found out that since it is a discrimination case, there are federal laws that may protect her, however, it may be better to just move her to a district a little further out to ensure her safety.

     Mr. Battle is still working hard for better tomorrows.  He still struggles with feelings of being a burden, a bad person, and memories.  I do my best to explain to him how brave and strong he is and I hope he hears me.  A friend of mine is a Vietnam Vet wife and she tells me all the time that I have a tough road ahead and that she commends me for continuing to support Mr. Battle as he works on himself.  From a lot of people, this may not fully come across as supportive, but from her--it is an incredible compliment.  I have to admit something though, I am not an "angel" or a "life saver" or any other name given to those who care for other selflessly.  I have extremely selfish reasons for being here and supporting Mr. Battle.  I love him to the moon and back.  And he looks good naked.

     Kid Battle is trekkin' on.  She's a tough little cookie with a good head on her shoulders, a forgiving and gracious heart, and strength and humor that goes on for days.  Mr. Battle worries that his illnesses and struggles will impact her negatively, yet she shows compassion, bravery, strength, and kindness more than anyone I have met.  She's one in a million!

     I'm gonna head to bed for now.  Mr. Battle comes home tomorrow, and then we will go as a family to see "Night at the Museum 3" at Kid Battle's school.  Rock on!

"Do more of what makes you awesome."

--I have no idea who said this

(possibly kid president)

^^Real thing, look it up.  So worth it.^^

 

Oh you again...

     I live for--and dread the weekends.  During the 7 week residential PTSD program, the weekends are all we really have to spend as a family.  A whole family.  While Mr. Battle is working his pattootie off at the VA, I miss him, celebrate him for who he is and how he is working to improve himself for our family, and I live for the weekends.  On the other side of the coin, though, I also dread those 2-1/2 days he is home.  Two weekends ago, he spent the entire weekend camped out in our closet.  His meds were being "tweeked" to see if he would be able to come off of Depakote.  The "tweeking" was really a horrible idea, one of which I very strongly and loudly voted against prior to.  Exhibit A. 
     
     Mr. Battle's doctors do a wonderful job of including me in decisions and asking my opinion based on the roller coaster ride I continue to ride (periodically) with Mr. Battle.  However, this time Mr. Battle was so on board with "tweeking" his meds, that they decided to move forward against my requests.  It gives me confidence that they value and respect Mr. Battle enough that they take his hopes and desires seriously enough to try and implement them into his care, so no, I am not upset.  Two weekends ago was hard, though.  Add into the equation that he quite literally was only stabilized on his meds about two months prior to starting the program after three months of trial and error.  (Complete with mental health hospitalizations and physical health hospitalizations due to adverse reactions.)  I desperately needed some calm.
     
     This last weekend I was hopeful yet cautious as to what we would endure considering the doctors have started moving towards re-adjusting his meds back to where they were before two weekends ago.  This last weekend was mostly my fault.  My fears, insecurities, and feelings of dread, stress, and being overwhelmed led to my outburst.  Typically I am very in control of my emotions, but that just did not happen this weekend.  I lost it.  We were to notarize some documents for a jeep that had been totaled recently (which was the ONLY reason I agreed for Mr. Battle to come home instead of remaining at the VA where I was sure he was safe) and come to find out Mr. Battle didn't bring his wallet, the notary wouldn't sign it until every field had been filled (even though the SAME company had told me NOT to fill it out), and the POA was signed incorrectly bringing me full circle into a total and complete break down. 
     
     I broke down.  I came crashing down hard.  So what do I do with this break down?  I get mad.  Rage, even.  Anger has served me well in the past as a coping mechanism to drive me through the emotional hard times in order to focus and keep moving forward rather than try to deal and bury my face in my covers.  In this situation, I should have just cried.  Anger was an unbelievably bad choice at that moment.  Mr. Battle utilized his coping skills he has learned.  He stayed calm and collected.  He stayed calm and collected.  He stayed calm and collected.  I raged on and on and on and on and on--then finally--Mr. Battle had enough.  He should be very proud of himself though.  He did not follow suit and start raging as I was, but the rest of the day--even after I apologized and moved on--he was now stuck in the mess I created by choosing anger.  After a day of rage followed an evening of communication.  We talked about everything.  My fears, stress, emotions, his fears, stress, emotions.  It was good and productive and honest.
    
     We also had to come to another major decision.  My nephew and his mom were living here for free--something we did to try and help her out.  Free rent, free food, free maid service, and free babysitter--what more could a new mom ask for?!  Our "help" moved more towards "enabling" the longer she was here, to the point where she stopped moving forward in her own life (child support enforcement, college, etc) because living here was just so comfortable.  It had gotten so bad that when confronted with a very reasonable list of chores (that she had been told would be expected prior to her moving in) in a very kind and considerate manner set her off into a downward spiral of entitlement and anger.  An anger that she eventually tried to take out on my 6 year old daughter because she was mad at me.  This is where she exited stage right last night.  She is moving out, has already physically vacated the premises and only has a few more things to pick up.  I changed the locks for now.

"Always remember that you are braver than you believe,

stronger than you seem,

and smarter than you think."

                                                                      ---A.A. Milne

Life Below

     On the outside, I am a good mother, a supportive wife and a force to be reckoned with.  On the outside, I have gained a few "comfort pounds"--or more, I have an incredible home, a reliable and reasonable pay check that allows for me to be a stay at home caregiver to Mr. Battle.  On the outside, I have it all together (even in my Olaf jammies).  It has taken years to perfect my ability to shove any and all emotions, hurts, and defenses down to a place where I don't have to pay attention to them.  Anger is a very handy tool in covering up what I am actually experiencing.  
    
     On the inside?  Ahh, yes...On the inside I am a mess.  Years of pushing everything down in order to maintain some kind of order, control, and dignity is not exactly healthy or beneficial.  In fact, it can be and is, in my situation, quite destructive.  Although I would love to tell you that it has only effected me negatively, I can't.  That would be a lie.  It served me well through the chaos that was our lives a few years ago, but when the family is in a healing phase rather than a "survival" phase, it is in no way constructive.  We are that family.  We are mostly in a healing phase even though it may feel as though we are still in survival mode.  
     
     Mr. Battle is medicated and actively participating in group and individual therapy to learn how to move past Iraq.  Med changes are more frequent and far more complicated than anyone would like.  Iraq is a living, breathing, dangerous and deadly monster that refuses to let go of Mr. Battle despite being retired since 2012.  And this difficult, beautiful, chaotic family is in recovery.
     
     Last weekend, Mr. Battle came home to spend time with Kid Battle and I.  Due to yet another med adjustment that went south and the nightmares, flashbacks, and fear that comes with all of this, Mr. Battle spent the weekend sleeping in the closet.  The weekend--not just the nights.  
     
     Me?  I know who I am as a wife, a battle buddy, a mom, aunt etc.  Remove all of those labels, and I can't seem to locate myself.  I must have left "me" behind somewhere.  While Mr. Battle is working toward a better future for himself and our family as a whole, I have continued to see our marriage counselor to work on finding myself free of anger, resentment, loneliness, pain, fear, and loss. 

                 "Don't give so much of yourself to others 
                              that you end up losing yourself."
                                                    --Unknown (unless you know who)

Beautifully Broken

 
     My grandfather used to say that God never gives us more than we can handle.  I apologize, dear grandfather, but I do believe you may be wrong.  If this were true, then why have so many, including the faithful, committed or attempted suicide?   

     Mr.Battle is back in the hospital again.  Fortunately this time is for a residential PTSD program (and is completely voluntary).  This makes for the 10th hospital stay since August for his PTSD/meds/bipolar/suicidal ideation etc--and we are not alone.  If this sounds true for you--you are not alone.   

     I see you.  I see you!  You with the spouse/family member who is struggling with trauma/mental illness.  I see you, you with the smile on your face, desperately trying to hide the fact that you are choking back tears.  You who are the glue and the foundation for everything and everyone around you.  You who can't risk expressing or facing your emotions for fear that if you actually realize what is going on, you just might fall apart.  I am you.  

     I see you, too.  You who every day is a struggle-a struggle to wake up, to face yourself, to face your family and friends and the mirror.  You who may feel as though you are a burden or a "downer."  You who thinks about or may have thought about suicide as a final relief from the pain and the memories and the tomorrows.  You are my husband.   

     You are not alone, and you are so precious!  You matter.  Your life matters!  And you are so loved!  Your struggles are real and powerful and painful and beautiful.  And you matter!

"Blessed are the cracked, for they shall let in the light."

                                                                           --Groucho Marx