Well I have at least made a concious decision to no longer feel sorry for myself, and shoose to let the stupid things DH is saying get me down. We have been together for three years next month. We got married in January. He is in the military, and was away for the most of the beginning of our "awesome" relationship. Last April 2009 I moved 3,000 miles away from my friends and family and any support that I had to live with him.
We love each other dearly, unfortunately we are not the greatest communicators. We had several problems with this back in New York last year. But we learned how to communicate in a good way without yelling and without put downs. We were doing awesome. We also had a bunch of other issues with the apartment we were living in that added to the stress, but that's a whole nother story for another day. But it was gross and it was depressing for both of us to be home, alone or together. But we made it through, alive, and together.
In December, he learned that he did not receive the rank advancement that he was expecting. Uh-oh. Well he was an E3, and that meant the next place that he got his orders for he would be forced to live the barracks, and I would be out on my own. Left high and dry and probably driving my car back home to Nevada with my tail between my legs, and more than devastated. He has always had this big dream of having a huge military wedding, with a beautiful bride, with all his family coming in their uniforms, and he in his. Imaculate. In his mind. Well, rather than leaving me high and dry he suggested we "get the paperwork out of the way"... I was ecstatic. Of course I called my mom. And my brother.. And my auntie... And a friend.... Well he told me to keep it hush. Why? I'm getting married! Who do you think you are to take away my joy and make me stay hush, when I am making the biggest desicion of my life. "But it's not the wedding" he says. We can have a wedding later. I am not keeping this to myself. This is something to be shared and is a joyous moment. He thinks not. "Nobody is going to come to our wedding if they know we are already married." If they know this is something important to us and we are open and honest with our family and friends why would they not? He was afraid to tell his parents because he thought they would angry or upset or disappointed.. Quite contrary. I was not there, but he said they were very supportive, and very happy for us to make this desicison and very responsible.
So we do it, and here we are. Six months later. Miserable. In Hawaii. Who's miserable in Hawaii? Answer me this question. I feel like he just expects me to do EVERYTHING for him. No exaggeration here. When unpacking, he didn't do anything. I do understand, yes, he is the one working, sometimes a 14 hour day, and I am not. I have finally found a super part-time gig. Super part-time as in 8 hours a week... But you know what. He told me to go out and find something to do. And I did. And I really like this one. I sell lettuce at the farmers market twice a week. Do you know how hard it is to find a job in Hawaii? That's why I sell lettuce twice a week at the farmers market... He hates it. He says it's not working towards any of my goals of being a paramedic or working in the medical field. My EMT-B license I possess means nothing here. I have to re-take the class, meaning I also can't get hired for anything using it.. My EMT is national registry. Does Hawaii recognize national registry for EMT-B? No. They do for paramedic. But not for basic. Lame? Yes. Can I do anything about it now? Not really. If I take it over, it's still another year before I have it and can use it to get a job... And then another year and a half after that to get my paramedic, which now i wouldn't even know would be accepted on the main land.. Errr....
Well, he went on a two month "mini-deployment" and got back about two weeks ago... And all he did up until a couple days ago was tell me all the things I did wrong or didn't do, I wanted to lose some weight while he was gone, and gained about fifteen pounds while he was gone.... I had another post up about the tune-up he'd asked me to get and I tried to do it myself... And failed... But I didn't go out an pay someone to finish right away.. I waited and then forgot. And then he came home. And I wanted to clean up and organize the garage while he was gone. I didn't finish. I did get a lot done, but there is still even more than a lot to finish. And these are all his belonging so I have an even harder time trying to figure out how and where to put them that I might remember should he ask later. I got all the big things in the house and put away, and now it's just all the small things and knick knacks. And he has sooooo many and he knows each and every possesion that he owns, so throwing anything away is not an option. Again, I know that he works, more than full time, and I don't expect him to come home and jut clean clean clean clean clean. Not at all. But I would like ideas from him, maybe a trip to Target or The Home Depot together to get some kind of shelving or organizing things so that these things have a place to go. But he comes home, and because the garage is not finished, and there may or may not be a couple spots of chicken poo in the carpet, he just berates me. And tells me that I have done absolutely nothing these last two months. Except sit around and spend all of HIS money. The whole week and half before came home I was so stressed out and not sleeping not eating tossing my cookies from the stress of the one moment that he's going to walk into this house and tell me what a poop-bag I am. Hoping it would be different, and it wasn't.
I snooped yesterday. I don't think I should have, but he won't tell me what's bothering him now, and I know he talks to this one particular friend of ours. So I went into his email. And sure enough. He sent her something. Saying that he doesn't know how to "deal" with me anymore. That all I do is whine about how fat I am. That I put on A HUNDRED pounds in two months!!! 100!!!! 20 tops. I was complaining about some poop-bag friend of mine (who I am not speaking with at the moment because he's a jerk) was telling me that I was too fat to go to the beach with his "ripped and buff" army friends, and that I wanted to try stand up paddle boarding but this guy was telling me that's it's too physically strenuous for me..... He used some nicer words on the beach scenario but that was the gist of it.. That's all I said about my weight since he's been home!! And he went to write about how I don't do anything, won't work, all I do is sell my lettuce for "2 hours" a week, and that it's pointless. I have the responsibilty of a ten year old, blah blah blah, some more poop like that...
Well last night I wrote him a letter explaining how I feel, without getting all girly and crying. I gave it to him this morning when I took him in for work. And I ended going back because he was early and wanted McDonald's so I picked him back up and we went to get breakfast. He didn't say anything about it, and when he got back out of the truck he left it on the seat. I told him how incredibly unfair it is for him to just expect me to do things, EVERYTHING. I don't mind if he asks. But when he just expects it to be done without saying anything, I have a problem with that. And the way he talks to me, not even to me anymore. AT me. He talks at me, and yells. And I don't appreciate. I think he is trying to be a controller, and that's not what I signed up for. I do understand that when he goes to work everyday, that's how his higher ups talk to him. And being out for two months and that's all you hear, I'm sure he's miserable, too. But he needs to make a more consious effort to not bring that home. I am his wife. I do not work on the boat with him, nor am I one the guys. And I not going to sit there and feel bad for myself anymore because I didn't do something well enough to please my man. That's not what this is about, and if he doesn't understand that, I'll go home. I am not a meak individual nor do I want to become one. I am not going to let myself get down because of this. I have clinical depression, and it is sometimes harder for me to see what's going on around me, and I'll let things happen and get sucked down into my feelings of despair. But not anymore, I am going to make a consious decision to do something for me everyday.
I will talk to him about this tomorrow, and I will let you all know how it goes. But I am not going to let him brush off my letter and my feelings. We have been through this before but not to this extent. And we hadn't "signed our papers" yet. I love him. And I want to make this work. But if he is not going to change anything or try to be more understanding then it won't. And I will move on. But that is not what I want. But if he can't even tell me, his wife, how he is feeling, instead of telling friends, then it will not. I talk to my friends too. But I get advice from the ones who have been through this before. Other military wives. Not a friend from back home who has no idea what I am going through and is going to say what he wants to hear to make him feel better. My friend's husband says I should get hot and skinny and sexy and then leave. I did make a point to him that I am the same size now as when we started dating three years ago. The dress I wore on our first date I wore out to dinner when he came home. I didn't gain no hundred pounds.
We love each other dearly, unfortunately we are not the greatest communicators. We had several problems with this back in New York last year. But we learned how to communicate in a good way without yelling and without put downs. We were doing awesome. We also had a bunch of other issues with the apartment we were living in that added to the stress, but that's a whole nother story for another day. But it was gross and it was depressing for both of us to be home, alone or together. But we made it through, alive, and together.
In December, he learned that he did not receive the rank advancement that he was expecting. Uh-oh. Well he was an E3, and that meant the next place that he got his orders for he would be forced to live the barracks, and I would be out on my own. Left high and dry and probably driving my car back home to Nevada with my tail between my legs, and more than devastated. He has always had this big dream of having a huge military wedding, with a beautiful bride, with all his family coming in their uniforms, and he in his. Imaculate. In his mind. Well, rather than leaving me high and dry he suggested we "get the paperwork out of the way"... I was ecstatic. Of course I called my mom. And my brother.. And my auntie... And a friend.... Well he told me to keep it hush. Why? I'm getting married! Who do you think you are to take away my joy and make me stay hush, when I am making the biggest desicion of my life. "But it's not the wedding" he says. We can have a wedding later. I am not keeping this to myself. This is something to be shared and is a joyous moment. He thinks not. "Nobody is going to come to our wedding if they know we are already married." If they know this is something important to us and we are open and honest with our family and friends why would they not? He was afraid to tell his parents because he thought they would angry or upset or disappointed.. Quite contrary. I was not there, but he said they were very supportive, and very happy for us to make this desicison and very responsible.
So we do it, and here we are. Six months later. Miserable. In Hawaii. Who's miserable in Hawaii? Answer me this question. I feel like he just expects me to do EVERYTHING for him. No exaggeration here. When unpacking, he didn't do anything. I do understand, yes, he is the one working, sometimes a 14 hour day, and I am not. I have finally found a super part-time gig. Super part-time as in 8 hours a week... But you know what. He told me to go out and find something to do. And I did. And I really like this one. I sell lettuce at the farmers market twice a week. Do you know how hard it is to find a job in Hawaii? That's why I sell lettuce twice a week at the farmers market... He hates it. He says it's not working towards any of my goals of being a paramedic or working in the medical field. My EMT-B license I possess means nothing here. I have to re-take the class, meaning I also can't get hired for anything using it.. My EMT is national registry. Does Hawaii recognize national registry for EMT-B? No. They do for paramedic. But not for basic. Lame? Yes. Can I do anything about it now? Not really. If I take it over, it's still another year before I have it and can use it to get a job... And then another year and a half after that to get my paramedic, which now i wouldn't even know would be accepted on the main land.. Errr....
Well, he went on a two month "mini-deployment" and got back about two weeks ago... And all he did up until a couple days ago was tell me all the things I did wrong or didn't do, I wanted to lose some weight while he was gone, and gained about fifteen pounds while he was gone.... I had another post up about the tune-up he'd asked me to get and I tried to do it myself... And failed... But I didn't go out an pay someone to finish right away.. I waited and then forgot. And then he came home. And I wanted to clean up and organize the garage while he was gone. I didn't finish. I did get a lot done, but there is still even more than a lot to finish. And these are all his belonging so I have an even harder time trying to figure out how and where to put them that I might remember should he ask later. I got all the big things in the house and put away, and now it's just all the small things and knick knacks. And he has sooooo many and he knows each and every possesion that he owns, so throwing anything away is not an option. Again, I know that he works, more than full time, and I don't expect him to come home and jut clean clean clean clean clean. Not at all. But I would like ideas from him, maybe a trip to Target or The Home Depot together to get some kind of shelving or organizing things so that these things have a place to go. But he comes home, and because the garage is not finished, and there may or may not be a couple spots of chicken poo in the carpet, he just berates me. And tells me that I have done absolutely nothing these last two months. Except sit around and spend all of HIS money. The whole week and half before came home I was so stressed out and not sleeping not eating tossing my cookies from the stress of the one moment that he's going to walk into this house and tell me what a poop-bag I am. Hoping it would be different, and it wasn't.
I snooped yesterday. I don't think I should have, but he won't tell me what's bothering him now, and I know he talks to this one particular friend of ours. So I went into his email. And sure enough. He sent her something. Saying that he doesn't know how to "deal" with me anymore. That all I do is whine about how fat I am. That I put on A HUNDRED pounds in two months!!! 100!!!! 20 tops. I was complaining about some poop-bag friend of mine (who I am not speaking with at the moment because he's a jerk) was telling me that I was too fat to go to the beach with his "ripped and buff" army friends, and that I wanted to try stand up paddle boarding but this guy was telling me that's it's too physically strenuous for me..... He used some nicer words on the beach scenario but that was the gist of it.. That's all I said about my weight since he's been home!! And he went to write about how I don't do anything, won't work, all I do is sell my lettuce for "2 hours" a week, and that it's pointless. I have the responsibilty of a ten year old, blah blah blah, some more poop like that...
Well last night I wrote him a letter explaining how I feel, without getting all girly and crying. I gave it to him this morning when I took him in for work. And I ended going back because he was early and wanted McDonald's so I picked him back up and we went to get breakfast. He didn't say anything about it, and when he got back out of the truck he left it on the seat. I told him how incredibly unfair it is for him to just expect me to do things, EVERYTHING. I don't mind if he asks. But when he just expects it to be done without saying anything, I have a problem with that. And the way he talks to me, not even to me anymore. AT me. He talks at me, and yells. And I don't appreciate. I think he is trying to be a controller, and that's not what I signed up for. I do understand that when he goes to work everyday, that's how his higher ups talk to him. And being out for two months and that's all you hear, I'm sure he's miserable, too. But he needs to make a more consious effort to not bring that home. I am his wife. I do not work on the boat with him, nor am I one the guys. And I not going to sit there and feel bad for myself anymore because I didn't do something well enough to please my man. That's not what this is about, and if he doesn't understand that, I'll go home. I am not a meak individual nor do I want to become one. I am not going to let myself get down because of this. I have clinical depression, and it is sometimes harder for me to see what's going on around me, and I'll let things happen and get sucked down into my feelings of despair. But not anymore, I am going to make a consious decision to do something for me everyday.
I will talk to him about this tomorrow, and I will let you all know how it goes. But I am not going to let him brush off my letter and my feelings. We have been through this before but not to this extent. And we hadn't "signed our papers" yet. I love him. And I want to make this work. But if he is not going to change anything or try to be more understanding then it won't. And I will move on. But that is not what I want. But if he can't even tell me, his wife, how he is feeling, instead of telling friends, then it will not. I talk to my friends too. But I get advice from the ones who have been through this before. Other military wives. Not a friend from back home who has no idea what I am going through and is going to say what he wants to hear to make him feel better. My friend's husband says I should get hot and skinny and sexy and then leave. I did make a point to him that I am the same size now as when we started dating three years ago. The dress I wore on our first date I wore out to dinner when he came home. I didn't gain no hundred pounds.
