I'm fighting a battle on two fronts. Anxiety and depression. One attacks, and then the other, in rapid fire secession.
How is that fair?
How am I supposed to fight that?
Mornings are really hard.
I've been going for a long walk or a quick run almost immediately after waking up, and even then the muscles in my stomach don't loosen.
I haven't had any coffee in over a week.
After the guys leave for school and work, it's just me and baby girl....that's when my mind takes off. That's when I end up either frozen on the couch or puking...sometimes both, in a cycle.
The other morning, I didn't think I could take another second being alone.
So I called my father. He was in the Air Force until retirement, and has since gone on to do other things. While we haven't been close in over a decade, I know I can count on him to be a voice of reason and put things to me logically.
After he expressed his shock and disappointment, I was in tears. Realizing he hadn't made me feel any better, he said to me, "It'll be ok, you guys will make it. You're a tough girl and you'll do just fine."
"Really??" I asked.
At this point, I was blinded by grief and a slave to my insecurity. I couldn't comprehend how we were going to survive without the security the air force offered.
He said, "oh yeah...it's gonna be hard for a while. But trust me, there is life after the air force."
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