The Day Before

Sundays are so difficult.
They have so much potential, yet they're so full of anxiety for me as of late- all that anticipation of yet another week of juggling military nonsense with an attempt at survival- let alone happiness.
I'm a bad soldier right now, I haven't done my physical, I am still a week away from the dental exam I'm overdue for, and I haven't spent any excess time hunting down specific people because I was told to. I'm at a point where I will take nearly any opportunity for happiness, even if it means risking some punishment. I don't get much for myself anymore, and I have no escape from the darkness these days, so, really, when I see a bit of light shining through, who can blame me for trying to stay close to it?
Another week... I really hope I'm able to sleep tonight.

Candidate

I've never attempted suicide.
That statement has been a source of pride for me, especially when so many of my closest friends have at this point.
Today, though, I was a candidate for suicide. It wasn't any one thing- the fact that our post is trying to ban service dogs, the fact that my husband and I are now staring down the barrel of our first deployment together, the fact that I've been through child abuse, two rapes and a myriad of other abusive situations, the fact our apartment reeks of mold, everything to do with the army... It's not just one thing. When my husband's boss (e7 type for you military-savvy folks) told my husband that I "needed to learn" to be in situations that put me into flashbacks, well, I couldn't come back up.
I begged him to leave me tonight so I could do it without feeling guilty.
He wouldn't, and neither would Buffalo Boy.
I guess I don't get out of it all that easy.