weakness

You want to know something? I'm tired of people telling me that I don't know what it feels like. I'm tired of people telling me that I don't understand. They tell me that I'm different. That I'm stronger, that it's different with me because I've been through deployments before. It's easier for me.

Let me tell you that it is not. I am not different. I am not stronger. I am not "used to it" if you can ever get used to watching your husband leave you for another seven months. I have cried my tears. I have screamed his name in the silence of my empty house. I have collapsed with agony at the pain of my broken heart. I have crumbled under the pressure of being alone and having no one to confide in. THAT is not strength, my friends. Strength is NOT lying on the couch with your arms around your chest, begging God to stop the pain of the lonliness.

My strength comes from each day that I survive. Each hour that leads to each day that leads to another week passing. My strength comes from picking myself up off of the ground and going to work. It comes from telling my friends how much I hurt and LETTING THEM IN because they are the only people who can help me. My strength comes from the thought that every moment that passes is one more moment closer to him coming home.

. I know that I can do it because I have before, but that doesn't make it easier. And my strength doesn't come from me. It comes from survival and my friends. The people around me that care about me.