Hey everyone! I'm back in Bremerton which means this blog has exited hibernation a starving, raging beastie. Here I am to feed it with new info regarding the going-ons of our little household. I am happy to say Josh and I have survived our first deployment and in a strange way, it has both changed us yet the past three months seem to never have happened. Let me explain.
When I recited "for better or worse" I meant it, and was fully prepared to fight my way through anything this deployment threw at me. Little did I know I'd have half a whale chucked at my face- nearly dodging it on several occasions when it deemed necessary to come flying back my way. Luckily, I had Captain Ahab (God- though I doubt he has a peg leg.... nor a vendetta against whales...) and Starbuck (my family and friends) to help me through this experience. You see, before Josh and I were ever married anything that frustrated me usually (and embarrassingly) reduced me to a puddle of tears and left me convinced that the universe hated me and I was better off not existing in the first place. Or maybe better off wrapped in a cozy straight jacket staring lovingly at a padded ceiling. Well, I found my big girl panties the day I said I do, and I'm happy (I guess) to say that my big girl panties have gone up a few sizes since this deployment, literally and metaphorically. (Kickboxing- while a wonderful form of exercise and stress relief-does not, in fact, shrink your butt).
Deployment taught me a lot about myself, and my relationship with my husband, and in a strange way, no matter how painful it was, this whole situation almost seemed necessary. Before deployment, I often relied far too much on Josh to make decisions. Executive decisions are not my speciality. With him gone though, I was in the hot seat, and it was either sit down or get steam rolled. With a household to run, getting steamrolled was a bad idea. I told myself that I WOULD NOT be reduced to a self loathing parasite that leached off of other people and made everyone else miserable just because I was. I would not be put back on antidepressants, I would try new things, and I would embrace this situation rather than stew in it.
And, really, to my own amazement, I pulled it off. I joined kickboxing. It's something I've always wanted to learn so I figured now would be a good time. I admit though, I almost quit halfway through the first class. I have never felt the urge to vomit so badly in my life. As I was putting my shoes on (sheepishly and in defeat of course) the instructor asked me just to stay until she brought the punching bags out. I agreed, meanwhile being drenched in encouragement and advice. This was a pivotal moment for me- I could either quit now, or prove to myself that I could push myself to do something incredibly hard and grow from it. I'm so glad I stayed. Every sore muscle, every bead of sweat, and every open wound was my body growing and becoming stronger. I've never felt more healthy in my life, nor physically accomplished, nor have I enjoyed exercise so much. If I could do kickboxing, I could survive a deployment.
Stage two (well, it actually came first) was to find employment AND ENJOY IT. I'll tell you right now, I don't like to work. Who does? All of my previous jobs (except for my own) were so terrible I'd rather have my butt raked over a cheese grater repeatedly. I chose to work at a craft store, which was far more my speed. Before my first day of work, I donned Josh's dog tag and told myself that if he can do what he is doing right now, than I can certainly step up to the plate and work at a freaking craft store. This time around, I would not be shy, I would not avoid eye contact, and I would find joy in every task I did. Such mental prep before every shift made all of the difference. Not only did work make the time fly, but I cultivated meaningful relationships, got to share my passion with others, and prove to myself and everyone else that attitude makes all of the difference. I came to care deeply for my coworkers and they gifted me with their kind words and friendly work environment. I miss them so much already.
Stage three was to really work on my relationships with my family members. Here, though, I feel as if I had some successes but more failures. Trying to understand my sister on her level can be a herculean task, and more often than not, I was less willing to deal with drama than exercise patience. However, on a more positive note, I feel as though I was able to reconnect with my dad in a way that I haven't been able to since first grade. Teenage daughters are rarely interested in "dad stuff" but for some reason it gets more interesting when you get old. I also began painting a mural in Josh's Parent's basement, and though I didn't get as much done as I would have liked to, each painting session often turned into a giant family gathering. This probably kept me the most sane on the days when I missed Josh the most.
Thank you to everyone who helped Josh and I through this, for all your love, support, and prayers. :)
More on the actual pick up and pier experience later. Right now I have a massive pile of deployment laundry to fold. *que vintage horror music* And I washed Josh's expensive earbuds. Who knew my washer had the power to snap earbud wire?
When I recited "for better or worse" I meant it, and was fully prepared to fight my way through anything this deployment threw at me. Little did I know I'd have half a whale chucked at my face- nearly dodging it on several occasions when it deemed necessary to come flying back my way. Luckily, I had Captain Ahab (God- though I doubt he has a peg leg.... nor a vendetta against whales...) and Starbuck (my family and friends) to help me through this experience. You see, before Josh and I were ever married anything that frustrated me usually (and embarrassingly) reduced me to a puddle of tears and left me convinced that the universe hated me and I was better off not existing in the first place. Or maybe better off wrapped in a cozy straight jacket staring lovingly at a padded ceiling. Well, I found my big girl panties the day I said I do, and I'm happy (I guess) to say that my big girl panties have gone up a few sizes since this deployment, literally and metaphorically. (Kickboxing- while a wonderful form of exercise and stress relief-does not, in fact, shrink your butt).
Deployment taught me a lot about myself, and my relationship with my husband, and in a strange way, no matter how painful it was, this whole situation almost seemed necessary. Before deployment, I often relied far too much on Josh to make decisions. Executive decisions are not my speciality. With him gone though, I was in the hot seat, and it was either sit down or get steam rolled. With a household to run, getting steamrolled was a bad idea. I told myself that I WOULD NOT be reduced to a self loathing parasite that leached off of other people and made everyone else miserable just because I was. I would not be put back on antidepressants, I would try new things, and I would embrace this situation rather than stew in it.
And, really, to my own amazement, I pulled it off. I joined kickboxing. It's something I've always wanted to learn so I figured now would be a good time. I admit though, I almost quit halfway through the first class. I have never felt the urge to vomit so badly in my life. As I was putting my shoes on (sheepishly and in defeat of course) the instructor asked me just to stay until she brought the punching bags out. I agreed, meanwhile being drenched in encouragement and advice. This was a pivotal moment for me- I could either quit now, or prove to myself that I could push myself to do something incredibly hard and grow from it. I'm so glad I stayed. Every sore muscle, every bead of sweat, and every open wound was my body growing and becoming stronger. I've never felt more healthy in my life, nor physically accomplished, nor have I enjoyed exercise so much. If I could do kickboxing, I could survive a deployment.
Stage two (well, it actually came first) was to find employment AND ENJOY IT. I'll tell you right now, I don't like to work. Who does? All of my previous jobs (except for my own) were so terrible I'd rather have my butt raked over a cheese grater repeatedly. I chose to work at a craft store, which was far more my speed. Before my first day of work, I donned Josh's dog tag and told myself that if he can do what he is doing right now, than I can certainly step up to the plate and work at a freaking craft store. This time around, I would not be shy, I would not avoid eye contact, and I would find joy in every task I did. Such mental prep before every shift made all of the difference. Not only did work make the time fly, but I cultivated meaningful relationships, got to share my passion with others, and prove to myself and everyone else that attitude makes all of the difference. I came to care deeply for my coworkers and they gifted me with their kind words and friendly work environment. I miss them so much already.
Stage three was to really work on my relationships with my family members. Here, though, I feel as if I had some successes but more failures. Trying to understand my sister on her level can be a herculean task, and more often than not, I was less willing to deal with drama than exercise patience. However, on a more positive note, I feel as though I was able to reconnect with my dad in a way that I haven't been able to since first grade. Teenage daughters are rarely interested in "dad stuff" but for some reason it gets more interesting when you get old. I also began painting a mural in Josh's Parent's basement, and though I didn't get as much done as I would have liked to, each painting session often turned into a giant family gathering. This probably kept me the most sane on the days when I missed Josh the most.
Thank you to everyone who helped Josh and I through this, for all your love, support, and prayers. :)
More on the actual pick up and pier experience later. Right now I have a massive pile of deployment laundry to fold. *que vintage horror music* And I washed Josh's expensive earbuds. Who knew my washer had the power to snap earbud wire?
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| Hide yo kids, hide yo wife. |
3 comments:
Glad to hear you're doing well. Also, I'd love to see the mural in the basement if you don't mind. Keep it up! :)
It's only half done! But I will post it when I'm done! :)
PS, my fb account was hacked. Just fyi.
So during this "rebonding time" with her father...he decided to do the dad thing and take her shooting to give her some tips and et cetera...nope...no tips needed...she is a natural shot!!!
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