Kristin...the light of my life

Well, folks...I'm now dragging around a plastic hose 24/7 so I can breath with only one lung. It's a war thing...as they say one of the sacrifices us "wounded warriors" have...from fighting for those that couldn't, can't fight for themselves. Actually, I kind of dislike saying it...but I don't remember thinking about saving those in the good old USA. I did care and try for those in the foreign countries I fought in... Still, the plastic hose and oxygen keeps me alive I reckon...not sure that's a good thing, though. Clearly, I'm depressed and frustrated. I'm a people person and haven't been out of the house (except for the hospital) in more than a year. So, what to do? I don't write this stuff for anyone other than myself. Kristin (my lovely little girl) once said..."why don't you admit to being the pig you are...?" I was, and still am really disappointed in her. She hasn't known me since she was 4 years old...so, how does she know "I'm a pig." I have to admit...that one hurt a bit...but I do understand how she came to that. So, how do I fix this...? What kind of a woman or man would do this to my daughter...? Surely they will burn in hell...if there is a hell. And, I have no one left to tell Kristin when I die what I was really like...or for her to get the hell out of that religious cult she was raised to believe in.... Can you imagine? I should be tougher than this, shouldn't I? I have a proven background, track record, of never giving up, of being especially tough, of completing anything I started...I've gone through some of the toughest training our country has... So, why am I being such a wussy now? It's making me nuts...