First of all, you know my name. I'm a rather new Army wife, also a new housewife. The latter, I'm afraid, has been a rather tough pill to swallow. Housewife has always been a 4-letter word to me. But, it's really difficult to penetrate the workforce, not only because of the sluggish economy, but also, finding a job when you're a military spouse can be quite hard, especially when you have qualifications that exceed what's needed for the job to which you are applying. Since February of 2012, I have been searching. Let me take that back. I finally gave up around December of last year, so, for a year I searched. I put in applications to places I'd have not even been seen shopping. Places, I felt, were below my standards for employment. However, I knew that I had to start somewhere. Long story short, I got ONE callback. I called her back, and never heard anything else. Nice. So, I've resigned myself to the task of Housewife. I'm capitalizing it to make myself feel better. The DH has been on board with me staying home, mainly because he gets spoiled. Dinner cooked, laundry done, house cleaned. All he has to do is come home and fuck it up again. Yes, I curse. I curse quite a bit, actually. No doubt a distasteful trait for a lady that I will, of course, blame on the husband. Anyway, back to me.
When I moved here, I became very depressed. This was the furthest I'd moved away from my family, both biological, and my Law Enforcement family. (I am a former Police Officer.) I had no friends, and knew one person, and my child (cat), Miranda. We moved to a town of 2200 people. Even smaller than the town in which I was raised. I also moved here from Austin, which, as most know is VERY large, and VERY busy. So, here I was, in a sleepy little town, with absolutely nothing to do but clean an already clean apartment. Awesome. So, my mental health began deteriorating. I couldn't sleep at night, mainly due to the water buffalo living upstairs in our apartment that is apparently made of paper. I was tired and napping on and off during the day, crying all the time, and I began to gain weight. I literally hated everything about my current living situation, aside from Miranda and my DH. Finally, I was able to get help. I was put on medication for depression and sleep disorders, things were finally looking a little brighter.
Then I stepped on the scale.
This was the heaviest I'd EVER been. I took a picture of myself in only my underwear and a bra, and scoured every grotesque detail of my ignored body. I was completely put off, to say the least. I got on the Atkins Diet, and lost all the weight I had gained. We also moved on post, which really helped my overall health as well. During that time, I was put on a medication to help with the weight loss and control my mood swings. So, when I fell off the Atkins wagon, I was able to keep off all but about 5 lbs. Not too bad.
Soon after, deployment loomed over our home. No longer were we trying to decide what to do for the weekend. We were now moving things around, signing last rights, POAs, visiting family, spending time together. We were also arguing. A lot. I can't count the number of times we threw our wedding rings (mine was a fake temporary at the time, after I got the real one, I've never thrown that. I'm no dummy.) Equal was the number of times I packed my bags and threatened to call my father to send gas money to get home. I was sure that our marriage was over. There were times that I wanted it to be, just so I could quit crying and fighting. On top of that, I was (and currently am) the FRG leader. So added to all the stress at home was the stress of keeping on top of that, dealing with various problems in the company and the like. It was not a good setting for my already fragile mental condition. I will say if not for the amazing psychologist and Dr. that have helped me through this, I would without a doubt be single and back in Texas. And because of the absolutely incredible amount of love I have for DH.
I also took the vow, like most other military wives, that I would finally get in shape before my husband returned. I had 9 months. I got right to work the day after he left. I've stuck with it, and according to all my friends and family, I have slimmed down quite a bit. I lift more, push harder, and train harder than ever. I jogged a mile for the first time in my ENTIRE life. I feel amazing. There's just one problem: I've lost probably around 2 lbs. in 3.5 months. This alone has made me quite frustrated, understandably. At this point, I'd kill to see just a 5 lb drop. Something. Anything. So now I've gone to the next chapter of this journey, the point of this blog: I've purchased and started the 24 Day Challenge. Today is day one.
So here we go..
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