When the weekend becomes too much

I sometimes fantasize about what it would be like to have a husband who was normal. You know, we used to dream and have plans… We used to go out, and laugh, and snuggle on the couch watching movies. 

Those days are so long gone, I don’t even remember what it was like to be carefree and happy in a marriage. I don’t remember life when I was filled with joy and promise. 

The days have been filled with a demon that has turned my husband into a person who is unrecognizable. They say that caregivers need to seperate the person from the illness, but it has become so intertwined into his personality and who he is that there is no seperating them anymore. 

With the news from the VA this week, Travis has been tailspinning. His personal grooming is suffering, his additude, mood, his ability to sleep, his willingness to do anything he is supposed to. In his mind the army broke him, and wont fix him, and now is only making everythingworse. It is like what else can they take from him. They took his career, his ability to walk without pain, they took his mind… This is how he thinks. He is so angry. 

He snapped this weekend on a neighbor kid. He was completely in the wrong. The only reason why he was not arrested was because I tried to explain his ptsd, and I promised to get him further treatment come Monday morning. Police will not help when it comes to mental health. 

The thing I don’t think we realize in our happy little American lives is the fact the the enemny in Iraq was not soldiers fighting soldiers. It was civilaians, little kids even attacking. The enemy was no different from the ally. So when a little kid came up and hit him. Boom he was back there. 

The neighborhood hates us. I can’t say I blame them. But I have to live here, I have to see them everyday. My kids are not allowed to be outside and play with the other kids because we have become that family. I hate him for that. I hate that I can’t hide the fact we are broken, and no one understands it and we have become hated for it. Even if he gets better, they won’t forget, things will never be the same, and this will follow my kids around. 

Samara asked me when was daddy going to get better, she knows his mind is sick, and she wants her daddy to be better. She loves him, and she wants him to be well.

Travis is so ingrained in his confused way of thinking he doesn’t even see what he did was wrong. It was. There is no mistake in that. He doesn’t get it. He is so deep in this, that he cognitively can not function properly. 

I am debating taking him to Battle Creek in the morning. They have the ptsd clinic there. They may be able to help. 

He told me he wants to get better, I have never heard that. I hope it was not him just telling me what I want to hear. 

I love him, but I have had enough. ENough of ptsd, of making excuses, and putting up with him. No more. This can not happen anymore. No more snapping, no more losing his temper, no more being ill. He needs to make a choice, a thoguht out choice. it is ptsd, or his family. I can make it on my own. It wont be easy, but it has to be better than living with this anymore. We deserve more. I pray he makes the right choice. The only choice he has for us. What type of person will chose their illness over their family?

I know ptsd is real, and I know he may always have it, but he can chose to live a better live. He can chose to get better. I am a firm beleiver that you can rise above almost anything, even in spirit. Sure he may always have bad days, but hopefully not everyday will be a bad day. 

I can see it, see our family when he isn’t like this. I can imagine what it is like to go on dates, and play with our kids in the backyard, take vaccations, and simply laugh. You know just laugh. I want simple things, but they would make a world of difference. 

Maybe it is a dream to think things might ever change, but they need too. I am growing old and weary, and you know something I am not even 30 yet. 

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