Pardon me...I'm having a 'why me?' moment

Back in the beginning of July I wrote this post about being done with the whole grown-up thing.  I was tired of taking care of everyone, spending money on things that came up, and just wanting to get away from it all.  And then my dog died...and another branch fell down in our yard {thankfully much smaller this time} and some things came up that made me feel unimportant and changed the plans I had made for the fall.  So now...I'm REALLY done.

I know that throughout your life, there are seasons.  Both good and bad.  I know that this year is just one of those trying years for us.  I know it will end eventually.  And I know it's not all bad, and I really am so blessed to have two healthy girls, an amazing husband, a house, the ability to stay home with my girls, etc.  But right now, I'm just mad.

I'm mad that it's me.  Skip and I our whole lives have tried to do the right thing.  We grew up young and have taken life pretty seriously.  We don't go on crazy trips, spend money on crap, or live beyond our means.  We make sacrifices for our kids.  After his experience in Iraq, we don't take any day together for granted.  I pray to God every night to keep my family safe and thank Him for the day I had with them. 

So why did MY dog have to die?  Why did we have to pay thousands for a surgery that couldn't save him? Why do financial things keep coming up {that thankfully we can afford, but is quickly taking away all our fun money}, why can't I have one weekend all about me, take a whole day off from mommying, or feel left-behind by people sometimes. 

I sit back and see lots of people we know spending all their money, never saving for a rainy day, living life with what seems like no consequences {I know I don't know everyone's story, but that's just how it seems sometimes} and yet nothing happens to them.  Now do I want something bad to happen to these people?  Absolutely NOT.  I would never wish bad things on anyone..not even someone I truly despised.  But why me?

Skip and I used to say that no matter what anyone else did, we were trying to do the right thing for our family, and were so blessed by everything we had.  And that was enough for me...until my dog died. 

Now I'm struggling with the meaning in all of this.  Why me, why my dog?  What's the point in trying to do the right thing all the time if terrible things are still going to happen to you.  Maybe I'll just start being selfish like most other people in the world...not caring about consequences. {nothing dangerous or illegal, don't worry...just little things}

I know I should be strong during this whole time, for my girls and the fact that it was a dog and not a human family member.  But you know what?  I'm tired of being strong.  I was strong at 19 when my friends got shipped off to war...I was strong at 21 when my fiance got shipped off to war...I was strong at 22 when our friend drowned...I am strong every day when Skip goes off to work as a cop...I was strong throughout 20 weeks of morning sickness with Emmy and 40 weeks of morning sickness with Charlie.  But this year?  I'm done.  I'm over trying to be strong.  Maybe then God won't give me so much to handle. 

So if you need me I'll be weak, selfish girl, sitting in the corner, questioning the meaning of life.