Day 5

Seriously, I cannot handle this... Every time the baby cries, I cry... If only I knew how to write to Cody... I don't even have his address yet and I feel like I am losing my mind... I'm not strong enough for this, why did he think I was... I can't breathe when I realize over and over again that he's not here. I want to be supportive, but I feel like I fall apart more each day. My meds aren't helping either. I just want to curl into a ball and cry until he comes home...  


The baby was grumpy ALL day... He grumped about his bum, he grumped about eating, especially when he was eating dinner. He got so mad he somehow ended up with food in his nose. He's gotten violent all of a sudden, trying to claw and tear at me, screaming at the top of his lungs for no reason, and just in general being a grouch. I don't know what is going on... I'm pretty sure he's upset too. I just don't know what to do anymore... 


I'm pretty sure I managed to take care of the car problem, the tv is kosher, and we have some food in the house now. Still have problems with the pipes backing up, though. Hopefully we can get that taken care of... God this house is depressing... Every time I look into my room I want to fall apart all over again. Everywhere I look I am reminded of what is missing and it hurts so much... 


I think the baby might be coming down with another cold or something, he's been warm and much fussier today... Me, I'm pretty sure I may have strep, and possibly have an even bigger problem on top of it, though it hasn't shown its face yet. The house is still looks like a blast zone... I still haven't heard from Cody, no letters calls or emails so far and I'm going crazy waiting. Why does the military have to be so stuck on virtually no contact from the outside world? I never should have agreed to this... I never should have pretended to be ok with it... I hate myself for not being able to handle this. 


I know it won't help if he knows this, and I know I sound stupid... I love him so much, and I want him to enjoy it and do well. I do... I want to push him and encourage him, and give him support. And I will. But at the same time, part of me is missing. Part of me hurts, and won't stop. 


Soon hopefully I will be out of the state, far from things that remind me of him in ways that won't help. Maybe if I stop seeing things like our bed, the baby's nursery where he rocked the baby, and the kitchen where I made him breakfast and the guns we shot the day he left, it won't hurt so much.