Are You Angry?

I've been asked that alot since Mike died. Am I angry at him or God for his death? I have fleeting moments of anger. For the situation but never at him directly or God. My faith has actually become stronger since his suicide. If you knew how much he'd struggled in the years before his death. If you'd seen how hollow and detached he'd become and how beat up by the illness he'd endured...you couldn't blame him. Am I mad that he was sick? He's no more responsible than if he had cancer. He didn't make himself sick. He didn't cause this to happen if you see the whole picture. If you look strictly at the manner of death you could find fault but what CAUSED it was out of all our control.
In that respect you can't fault him. And...maybe that's my own personal way of justifying it. But I find a peace in this way of thinking. He didn't abandon us. He didn't leave. It wasn't a lucid consideration in his death. He died as a result of his ongoing long term illness. An illness that made him so sick he could not recognize he suffered from. It jumbled his thoughts in a way that made him think he was doing us a favor by completing.
He fought daily this raging war in his head. The same was I do now. The difference is I got help early on and sought treatment. I know how hard he fought it. I watched it take his soul little by little every single day he was alive. He became further away from the man he was. He hated who he became. He could not connect the dots. The dots became a blurred line. He no longer knew where reality ended and his illness began. How can you ever be mad knowing this?

Some widows, children, parents survivors put their loved one on a pedastal. Building them up in their minds...changing who they were completely so that no mortal could ever compare. I see it everyday. Thus isn't the case for me. I've maintained a pretty healthy view of who he was. Before he was sick he had faults. He was human. No one us infallible. I'd known him since we were kids. We grew together in love and apart in his illness for 20 years. He was a good man and I never feel like I gave to defend him because our family was his world and I was the center of his as he was mine. We survived deployments, special duties, the birth of our children, the custody fight for my oldest. Wed moved cross country three times. We endured the hardest most stressful hurdles in a married couples life. I promised to love him in sickness and health. It was difficult and I cried and I screamed and I begged him to get help but I stood by him, even when I probably should have ran. With him I learned what being married really meant. I had my faults too. I eventually became detached. I learned to not cry in his presence. I had in a way given up thinking he could be helped. I surrendered to the fact that this is how he would remain. I began to dismiss his behavior too. THIS WAS SIMPLY OUR WAY. Not his alone, or mine...it was ours.
I can not fault what I allowed... What I accepted as our truth. Hindsight is 50/50. I see things differently now. PTSD isn't the sickess of one person. It's a family illness. It touches every member of your household. It changes the dynamics of your family. Especially if left untreated. Unspoken. It's like a festering wound. It cannot heal alone. It spreads, threatening the whole body.

I will never be mad at him. Am I angry at times? Absolutely. I'm enraged. But only at our circumstances. Not at any person or entity. Ultimately no person can be blamed. It would be unhealthy to latch on to anyone or thing and misplace anger. It would hinder my healing and growth. It's not his fault, or mine, not the VA or the Marines, not the president or even the War. it's certainly not God's "fault", I don't believe God "punishes" us. It may be in his plan and that plan is one I don't yet fully understand. I can accept that. I trust Him.

I'm not mad. I'm relieved at times even. I know that he no longer struggles so violently with the illness. How peaceful that must finally be after years of battle? I know who he was and how he loved. It is not a question of faith. I will never doubt his devotion. He loved God, his Marine Corps and his family.

I struggle with many things about the night he died but never ever about the man he was. That should not be confused. I have no problem seeing the difference between his illness and his identity. He's not identified by his manner of death or his illness but I know some people still misunderstand. I do know God has put me here to help people with their own struggle to identify which is which and not just survive but thrive through the process.

You are allowed to be mad but don't let it stunt your healing. Make sure you really examine what you're mad at and why. Dont get hung up on details. Work toward a stronger better you. That's really the lesson I've learned in this aspect of my journey