Not Alone

I'd really like to have something funny to say today. I'm sitting here wracking my brain, trying to think of a funny conversation or an embarrassing antidote. But I'm drawing a blank.

The truth is that I've been unaccountably sad lately.

You have no idea how hard that is for me to admit.

To me, admitting that I am sad is like admitting that I am weak. And feelings of sadness bring about tremendous feelings of guilt. What do I really have to be sad about? So many people have more of a right to be sad than me? I have everything I've ever wanted. What kind of juvenile, malcontented, spoiled brat am I?

So I take those sad feelings, and I turn them into anger. It's what I learned to do from my father. And do you know how much it kills me to admit that? Frankly, it pisses me off when I can draw comparisons between me and my father.

I've found myself in the last week being pissy with just about everyone. I'm short with the kids. I'm critical with the husband. But I found myself driving home today, with tears running down my cheeks.

I am sad.

And I can't even pinpoint why.

I'm sick of my freaking jaw. I'm sick of not being able to kiss my husband. I'm sick of not being able to eat normally. It's making me tired and frustrated.

I socialized at the squadron Christmas party and all I could think was, "These women are so superficial. I have nothing in common with them. Nobody here really knows me."

I look to my trip back home this Friday and I dread it.

This year's trip back home will feature the 25th Anniversary Party of my husband's father and step-mother. I dread attending that party with all the fiery hate burning in hell. I hate that woman. That woman who inflicted so much pain on the man I love. I hate her so much, and she's berating me to be sure to dress my husband and kids nice enough for pictures. She can burn in hell for all I care.

My closest friends live far away. I'd rather take my precious time and the money for this trip and spend it on seeing them.

And frankly, the thing I don't want to admit is bothering me at all, but is probably the main reason for my sadness is the fact that we will return from this trip, and within days my husband will leave for four months. I don't want to admit that it is making me sad.

I am supposed to be the strong one. I am supposed to be supermom, keeper of peace and bringer of love. I can't show my weakness.

My husband has already asked me, "Are you going to be alright during this deployment."

I responded with an, "Are you serious?" but I honestly wanted to punch him when he asked me that.

I'll be fine because I have to be fine. I have to be better than fine. I have to be supermom, provider of strength and giver of kisses. I can't show my weakness.

But I am sad. Unaccountably sad. And I know I'm not the only one.