Saturday, February 6, 2010

Navy Life

I should admit from the start; I have a bit of an obsessive compulsive nature. When I do something, I usually go at it full force for say… a while! I eat, drink, sleep and breathe whatever it is and this is when I am always glad that I don’t really drink. When I was in elementary school it was Scooby Doo, he was my idol, and I wanted a dog so very badly, but sadly my father hated dogs. In junior high and high school it was Joe Montana and the San Francisco 49ers, I knew the whole team and all of their stats. Yes I was a tomboy. I can thank Dan Dierdorff and John Madden for my knowledge of football. I spent many Sundays sitting alone on my couch at home trying to figure out why the quarter back didn’t play offense AND defense, learning what offense and defense meant and deeper things like “leg sweeping” and “holding” wasn’t nearly as romantic as it sounds. At one point it was KISS, and for the past decade it has been Bon Jovi. I guess I need a focal point, something to put my unused pent up energy, love and adoration toward. I don’t think I was ever really loved as a child and my first marriage, if you have read my blog, was a bust. I am happy to report that I am still deeply and crazy in love and most of my OCD goes into my adoration of the man that loves me and puts up with my personality quirks.

Enter the US Navy, they just can’t seem to understand that when I am profoundly in love like this, it is unfair to take away the object of my OCD love and desire. Personally, it is sad to admit because I like to think that the world revolves around me, but the Navy doesn’t care about me. So during our relationship they are constantly taking him out to sea for weeks at a time, most of the time with advanced notice, but sometimes without.

This separation is very difficult for me. When he and I were starting our relationship, I ran away from my ex-husband to get divorced and to live with my sister in Utah for a few short months. Most of the time I was gone, he was at sea, but there were a few weeks that he was alone and without me, like I am when he is working. He was so sad and lonely for me, we talked on the phone in the mornings and at night and he would send me videos, and I could tell it broke his heart that I was not by his side. This is exactly how I feel now. I realize he has a job to do and has been doing it very well for the past 20 years. I am not sure that he typically misses me as much when he is gone, because he is use to the routine, he has work to do and I have never spent time in his locker or in his rack ha ha. Whereas for me; the bedroom, the sofa, riding my motorcycle, spending time in the car, or even trying to party with friends reminds me of him. He is everywhere and yet he is gone.

Thankfully, for my sanity, he is retiring from the Navy and is currently on his last deployment. I don’t think we have ever spent more than 3 weeks apart up until now. He has been gone for 5 now. One of the last things he said to me as I kissed his sweet lips when he left was that the first month was the hardest and then I would get into the groove. I hoped that he was right, but deep down I knew that I loved him way too much for the pain to be eased by the passing of a month. Honestly I was proud of myself, I was doing really well. I didn’t lose control of all bodily function as I left him on the ship that morning (not one tear in front of him) and I was plodding along through life waiting to find out when they would be sending him home for retirement.

As is always the case, he was promised that at the first port they would drop him off and fly him home to start his retirement. That meant that he would be gone about 2 months and then he would get to come home to me. Two months, I thought, I am strong I can handle that! But last week I found out that they are going to keep him an extra month and a half or more.

Depression runs in my family. My father spent most of his life on antidepressants, now I realize mostly due to my mother, but none the less he, my sister, my mother (although she would die before she admitted it) and I have all had bouts of depression. I know this about myself. I tried to prepare for his leaving by finding a part time job so that I would have a peer group and friends, but even that back fired. His son left to live with his mother and I was left all alone at home. This is not a good set up for someone with depressive traits.

But, how can I be depressed? I am completely and totally consumed by the love of my life. He chats with me via computer in the morning and at night before bed and sends me text messages throughout the day to tell me he loves me. My life revolves around the love I feel for him and the happiness he brings to me. I decided I could focus on the distance or I could focus on our love and the hope of building a lifetime together. But I also knew deep down that I needed a constructive hobby.

After he had been gone a week or two, I decided to have some very R-rated pictures of myself taken on his motorcycle, so that he could have something to remember me by while he was gone. I have a decent body, but I dare anyone to take naked pictures of themselves and not notice flaws. This was the motivation I needed. I began exercising and running. I am not running for him, although I hope he reaps the many benefits and likes my new body when he gets home. He loves me unconditionally, he would be happy if I stayed home and remained the same, and I am going out on a limb here but I think he would even love me if I ate a bag of Cheetos a day until he came home. Some days I would like to pick the Cheetos! He has only expressed that he doesn’t want to come home to an unhealthy or skinny girlfriend, which as I have stated before I think is nearly impossible for me.

I ran my first 5 mile race last weekend. I was invited on Friday and ran the race on Saturday. I had not been training specifically for racing, I had just been exercising, and I would have preferred a 5k (3.1 miles) to 5 miles but I also knew I couldn’t wimp out with 1 mile. So I took a leap and ran alone for 5 miles. I have never felt stronger or more proud in my life than when I crossed the finish line. I had found the strength to leave my ex-husband, start a new relationship and run a race within the last year. Admittedly there was some walking, some singing, some wheezing and some giggling along the way and I definitely have room to improve but the experience was earth shattering. This is just what I needed to encourage and enable my OCD tendencies plus I think it is impossible to be depressed when you are getting "ripped"!

So I have found my niche, at least until he returns. Hopefully I will continue training when he comes home, because I love the benefits and can already see a change in my body. Now, I rise in the morning talk to my sexy sailor for an hour or two, go running for a few miles, go on a bike ride and then sometimes I workout with Tony Horton and his “bring the pain” P90X, (but I recommend not doing all of these at once, or trust me you won’t be able to walk for a few days). Happiness and some good pain abounds now. Last week I felt helpless that our time apart was going to be doubled, but this week I realize that just gives me a little extra time to get the body of my and his dreams!

I’m thinking of saying, “welcome home honey, wanna bounce a quarter off my abs?”

1 comment:

  1. Great post. You seem to be making a good situation out of one that could have easily sucked, and you should be proud of that. I wish I had the outlook on life that you do. Good luck with your exercise and hope you get to see your sailor soon!!