When you marry a soldier, you have some element of a classic American fairy tale in your life. He goes off to war; you cry yourself to sleep. He brings freedom to oppressed peoples; you hold down the home front. He is noble and you are selfless. When your soldier becomes disabled, it really only adds to this fairy tale. He, who was strong and noble, now needs you to be strong and noble.
It is a love story.
The worst part of being married to a disabled veteran is not the endless fighting with faceless bureaucrats or the continual shock over everything he cannot do. The worst part is when I am in need. Because my noble soldier is incapable of fulfilling my need to be taken care of. He is the one who is taken care of. For better or worse, he is the one who is taken care of.
I am struggling with our cross-country move. I am not struggling with the things I thought I would struggle with. Selling the house, buying a house, transferring mail and bills and kids, adjusting to a highway speed limit 20 miles slower - these things were surprisingly easy. The hard part is living here.
I feel like every reason we had for moving has proven to be a complete bust. The VA is supposed to be better but they don't even have an intake appointment for my husband until August. The schools are supposed to be better but I am having trouble getting my daughter into the correct programs. My husband is supposed to have friends here - none of whom came to his birthday celebration or have invited him to do anything with them. We are supposed to be happier. My husband is happier. My kids are about the same, honestly. I am miserable.
I thought if my husband was happier and other things were better then it would be easy for me to be happier.
I forgot that if my husband cannot take care of me when I need it, there is no one here to support me.
I am very lonely.
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