3 weeks, 21 days, 504 hours…

Three weeks doesn’t seem like a long time for most people, but for me it seems like a life time.

I guess you could say I’m dependent on my husband. That seems like the easiest way to explain it.

He’s my rock. When he comes home from work at night it’s like the weight of the world lifts.

We have been together 12 years. High school sweethearts. I don’t know anything but him. I don’t want to know anything but him.

I feel like I’m a pretty good mom, but 3 weeks, alone with 4 kids is tough. I feel it would be tough for anyone.

I have a plan to start walking at night with my sister which I think will help, but what I really need is a schedule. I’m not very good at following a schedule so it will be hard for me.

I’m definitely not a morning person. I guess you could say that it’s just me but I find myself blaming the depression.

I remember all to well how my mental illness slammed into me last time he was gone. It scares the shit out of me. All I can think is “will it happen again? Will I be able to handle everything at home by myself?”

Constantly worried. Constantly reminding myself of how horrible things got before. Having panic attacks for things I have no control over. The rational part of my brain telling me it will be fine, but the irrational part, the main part of my brain now adays, worrying about everything all at once.

Do I have him call me every day, or do I have him only call me on a certain day so I don’t depend on his call? What do I do while he is gone? Should I get out of the house as much as I can? Do I stay home as much as I can?

I hear my counselor in my head “take it one day at a time.” Do people actually do this? Somehow I will have to figure out how to stop thinking about what is ahead of me and start thinking about what is happening now.

But as for you, be strong and do not give up, for your work will be rewarded. 2 chronicals 15:7

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