It's not my fault, it's not my fault, it's not my fault.

I need to keep chanting that to myself over and over again. Maybe I'll really start to believe it if I say it enough? One huge lesson we as spouses to those suffering with PTSD learn, is it's not our fault. Often times I bend over backwards to get stuff done, to make life easier on him. Does he notice? Nope. I'll clean, and clean, and clean. Does he notice? Never. I'll have gone out of my way to do something nice for him. Did it matter? Not at all. But it's hard to not get let down. It really does hurt your feelings to know that no matter how hard you try, it doesn't matter.

How can I stick around, and love someone like this? Honestly, sometimes it's hard. But then I see a little tiny glimpse of what life used to be like, and the man he used to be, and it's enough to usually carry me through the bad for a while. He didn't ask for this, it happened to him. It happened to our family. And now, we learn to live with it. I think one of the biggest thing that has helped me, is to know that I really am NOT alone, though at times it feels like I am.

I literally spent an hr and a half on the phone with someone I barely know, yet we've known each other for years, and crossed paths several times. It was like talking to someone I've known forever. Everything I said, she knew exactly what I meant, and how I felt. I cannot explain how much that helped me. At the same time, it really puts into perspective just how many people are really hurting that bad, and just holding onto anything they can for dear life. We just deal, and pull through, and then finally after days, or weeks, or months... Something amazing happens, and it charges us up a little bit again.. Then starts the difficult part all over again.. And it just keeps cycling around.

Today was hard. It seemed to have started out decent, even with the sickness my daughter and I have right now. He came home for lunch, and actually picked up some lunch I had called in. It wasn't great, we didn't really have a good vibe, but it wasn't bad. Sometimes that's all we can ask for, is for it to just be "meh". Then when he came home from work. I had done something that took me half the day to complete, but it really made a huge difference in our house. It didn't make a difference to him. The worst part is the attitude he seems to have. I was in a decent mood, and trying to spend some time with him, and he just seemed like he was in pain being near me. That. HURTS.

So, yeah... It's not my fault. Even though I sit here and question what the heck I did. I know it's not my fault. Now I just have to try my hardest not to let it bring me down as well. Ho hum.

What to say, what not to say......

Some days I want to scream from the mountaintops what we're going through. But honestly what good would it do? I am thankfully finding there are others out there that understand.. But if I had to guess it'd probably be something like .000001 for every billion people. I'm getting to the point where I want to just hole up in my house, and be alone. Which actually, it isn't possible to be alone, but I can still hole up other than appointments and such.

I honestly hate living in this sub-division. It's cute, quiet, and the houses are all a few feet from each other. Apparently lots of people like to live this way, because there are sub-divisions like this ALL over the place. Not us. Not people with PTSD, and loved ones of somenoe who has PTSD. Why? Oh I could go on for days. For me, It's embarrassing. I know my neighbors can hear when my husband is breaking things in our house. I know they can hear the screaming, and sometimes crying. They'd have to be deaf not to. And so when I see them, I just smile and try to pretend like I don't know that they know. I don't know who it's more awkward for, me, or them?

Then there's our son, who has severe ADHD, but he's not even 4 yet. He still doesn't have much control over himself, and we've tried medication but he's just too young, and there are too many side effects. So, anytime I'm out with him, there's always a super high risk of him having one of his meltdowns, and him darting off in front of cars. Sure, let's just avoid ever going out of  house, because that's completely do-able, right?

At this point though, my skin is getting pretty thick. I'm caring less and less what people think, or say. I'd love to be a fly on the wall, and have them live one hour of my life. I'd be willing to bet they wouldn't even last an hr. PTSD, and ADHD are not things that we deal with because we caused either in any way. My husband has PTSD from his deployment. The things he's seen would affect anyone. Our son having ADHD isn't something he cought from some kid at a park. These are things that have happened to our family, and we've adapted to it.

The thing I'm learning. Is it doesn't matter what you say, or what you don't say. Unless people are in your shoes, they can't possibly know what you're going through. It doesn't matter if you explain yourself. You can't make someone care about you, or what you're going through. When you go through things like this, you quickly learn who you can really count on, and I can bet that number is going to be small. You might have 1,000 social networking friends, but how many of them are truly going to care what's going on in your life, and support you?

Where I stand now, is it if bothers you that my family is going through these things, and I talk about these things too much, or I annoy you with what I say, or share.. Do us both a favor and remove me from your life in whatever way that means. I am reponsible for my happiness, no one else. I appreciate all support, but if it's fake, you're just doing us both an injustice.