I'm Sorry

For whatever reason, my brain hasn't been functioning for days now.  Weeks really.  As most of you know, this life can be a bit unpredictable and rolling with the punches has been particularly hard as of late.

For those of you who have been reading for a while, you may well remember when I spoke about retreating to my bedroom.  I have done that again and have not been doing very well at life in general.  I still need to pick a giveaway winner, which shows me that I probably should not do giveaways anymore.  I feel terrible that I have let everyone down on that front.

The truth is that I love that I can be so open and honest here, but I am not liking who it seems to have made me become.  I'm a whiner.  I get emails commending me for my honesty, but I'm doing nothing that is all that wonderful.  I feel like I log on here wanting to just write about our life, but it seems to be that I end up just writing about pain and sadness.  I don't want to be that person.  I don't want to feel like that is all my life is.

It's not.

But as a result, I have done what I've done in the past: Logged on a 100 times, each time failing to write anything because I am unsure of what to say.

The ups and downs are still rolling in and out far to fast and the moods are still hard to predict.  We laugh more, but I feel like I cry more too and I"m not sure if the laughter is worth that price.  I have found myself back in my bedroom, hiding from the world.  I have found that I am afraid to log onto my blog.  Though it's a place that I can work through things emotionally, it also means that I have to confront those things and right now, I just can't.  I want to, but I just can't.

I'm deeply saddened by who is seems that I have become.  My head knows that this is all very normal in PTSD land, but my heart just breaks when I look into the mirror.  I know that I am more than the sadness that I have, but I don't seem to be able to find that girl again.  And my whole life has been consumed for so long with finding my husband, somewhere in there, somewhere buried deep inside of him that I can't always find the time to find myself.  I have done what I have spent months warning you all not to do.  I have allowed myself to be consumed by my husbands diagnosis and I no longer know who I am.

All I am is the wife of a man with PTSD.  All I am is the person who takes care of him.  I am no longer me. And I'm sorry.  It has prevented me from being a source of comfort, laughter or even just the blogger who tells the truth.  With all that we have had going on as of late, I was sucked so slowly into the danger zone that I didn't even see it happening until I was too far gone.

I hope to be back out of my room and back to the real world soon.