Does halfway mean hitting a wall?

Because that's how I feel right now!

I am trying so damn hard to stay positive, and upbeat, and optimistic.... and I am exhausted! I am DONE.  I feel like I have completely hit a wall this week, and I just don't wanna. 

I don't wanna pack any more freaking flat rate boxes.  I don't wanna write any more letters.  I don't wanna send any more motomails.  I don't wanna stare at my cell phone every. single. Monday. and wait.  I don't wanna be afraid of what Mocha is barking at every time she barks.  I don't wanna have to go to Target and look like a fat kid because I am buying so much junk.... to pack in those effin flat rate boxes.  I don't wanna take that dog out again- isn't it someone else's turn?  I don't wanna worry that I'm forgetting what my husband looks like.  I don't wanna look at a picture of him from Stars and Stripes and worry that he should probably have his kevlar on while talking to those children... shouldn't he? (www.stripes.com)  I don't wanna sleep in our bed by myself anymore- I'm almost to the point where I'm considering sleeping in the guest room.... but I'd have to get new curtains first... and well, that's just not worth it. 

I just am done.  Apparently this deployment, 15 weeks is my breaking point.  Lucky for me, I don't really have another choice in the matter though.  I have to suck it up for another 13 weeks and just do it.  Not just for Randy, but for the guys in his squad too, and for everyone else relying on me to keep smiling and keep on pushing forward.  Because like he told me before he left, it's his job to take care of his guys, my job to take care of him.  And I guess that leaves YOU (my fabulous blog followers) to take care of me. 

I hope this wall starts shrinking here soon, because I sure am sick of staring at it.  I guess right now its a matter of being so close.... yet so far.  Time is slowing down again.  Well, at least the days are dragging.  The weeks are flying by.  

So I guess really I can't complain too much.  

I just hate feeling this way.

But I will push through.  I will walk downstairs in a few minutes and pack 2 more flat rate boxes for my awesome mailman to pick up for me in the morning.  I will sit down tonight and write another letter- number 105 for those keeping track- and put it in the mail in the morning.  I will take the dog for a walk tonight, and not have a nervous breakdown looking out the window when she barks at nothing.  I will stop worrying about that picture- because I recognized the back of his head- and I completely trust my husband's judgement.  And tonight when I go to bed, I will curl up with a bunch of pillows, and his sweatshirt that he sprayed with his cologne the day he left, and I will sleep in our bed, tricking myself into thinking he is laying there too. 

And hopefully soon, I will STOP feeling this way.