Some good, some bad

I am in one of my "I hate the Army moods." I am sure it will pass, I just hate when they hit. I get mired down in the negativity. I am just feeling very closed in on.

Between the FRG crap that hit the fan, a letter I wrote that really blasted the back stabber, and the feelings I went to bed with last night. Then, to further compile it, a smart assed 1SG who just stepped into my crosshairs, and add a really horrible event, and you get a trailmix of disaster.

I have been on the anti Army kick for a while, because while it provides our income, it tends to defeat our spirit. My husband and I are best friends. There is no one else in this world for me but him. We've been married almost 7 years and of that time, we have honestly spent a menial amount of it together. We have the quality, don't get me wrong. But my mind wanders to the thing that is in the face of any military family, he could be lost to me and to our family. I know that any of us could die tomorrow. But what I go back to is that if any of us are lost to each other, the thing that will burden me the most will be that I had him for so little time. That our son would never know what an awesome man his dad is.

The terrible thing that happened, that really sparked this, was that a little girl on my street was buried today. Several weeks ago, they discovered she had a fast growing tumor. She was treated with chemo, but it was far too late. Her father was in Iraq. He came home instantly, but only to see her die. Everyone has said it is the detail he can't let go of. And that he is not coping with this. I understand this so completely. I hate that as service members we are so robbed of our time with our family. A tragedy like this hammers this home.

The little girls death has sparked a lot of conversation on our street. People trying to grasp it. It's such a horrible thing to imagine--losing anyone, let alone a child. Those conversations have left my heart hurting. I feel inadequate to deal with it, and she's not even my child.

I went to a class today that I'd been dreading and I met several wonderful people who really got me back on course. I felt so good--almost released from my Army angst. Then I came home and all of my neighbors were out, having returned from the funeral. We all talked about it. Again, I am feeling everything is bleak. I know I need to go down and talk to her mother, take a dish down and check on her. I just can't muster it. I can honestly say it terrifies me.

Several years back, a neighbor of ours murdered his 18 month old. It was awful. It was the worst time in my life, because I felt to blame. I did not follow my instincts, because I had no proof. Had I made some noise, he might still be alive. I went to the funeral because everyone insisted I needed closure--it nearly drove me insane. I'd just had a baby of my own, it was not something I should have done. I could not touch my own baby for a month after it, without losing my mind. I feel like I barely escaped that time with my sanity.

I know these are two different things. This child was loved and cherished, but the grief is the same. It's just me. It's my limitations. I hate this about me.

Anyway, the mood here swings like a pendulum, good-bad-good-bad-good-bad. I think I'd just be OK if it'd go to "no-big-deal, nuthin'-doin' " I just thought if I wrote a bit I'd get it out--get it off my chest. It's not working.