the Struggle is Real

Hey all and Happy Fri-Yay!

How has your week been? Good? Bad? Tell me all about your weekend in an email guys! I love interacting with you.

Anyhow, I better get started on this blog...

How many of you have heard the saying, "the struggle is real"? I don't know when it became popular or who said it first but it has definitely stuck with us for a long time now. I couldn't relate to this saying more than I have this past year. If you read my last blog, "I am Capable", then you know I struggle some inner battles mentally. This weeks blog is to show others that they're not alone, we all have our own struggles we battle with.

We will Overcome and We will Win.

A lot of you don't know me as the "quiet", "boring", "depressed", "sad", "moody" girl. A lot of you know me as the "outgoing", "new mom", "fun", "crazy, "talkative" girl. Which, she's my favorite :). When I was younger, I would get into these outrageous moods if something didn't go exactly my way. These outbursts weren't only "tantrums" or "fits"... these outbursts were someone I didn't know. Someone I didn't recognize even though it was myself. We all never thought too much about it and shrugged our shoulders. We always thought it was the "fits" or the tantrums". Same things would happen all through out my school career, still not knowing or willing to try to know why and what's wrong...

September 15, 2017 I got married to the BEST man on Earth. (sometimes the best) lol. I was living on cloud-9 since that day we were announced as 'Husband' and 'Wife'. Marrying into the military life was something I had to wrap my head around. I heard all of the good stories and all of the bad stories that come with the military lifestyle.

"I got this." I told myself. "I will do anything for the one I love." I said...

Soon after we moved to California together, into our first home... Taylor received deployment orders. The orders that state him and his men are going to be stuck on a MEU for seven whole months. Patrolling across the sea, from West coast to East coast, back to West coast. I was going to be home alone for seven whole months. Thankfully I made a couple of friends before hand. (Lauren, Sabrina, Nicole and Ashley: I love and miss you guys.) Although they had their own lives to live, their husbands to care for and their own jobs to clock into, they were always there for me. They knew that being alone in a big 3bedroom house wasn't healthy for anyone. I thank them so much for always being there for me. However... they had their own lives to live. I wasn't going to overstay my welcome whenever one would invite me over and I wasn't going to call them every time I was lonely. If that was the case, their phones would have never stopped ringing haha. Lauren would always invite me over for home-cooked dinner and a movie. Those were the best nights honestly, but even then, I'm 99% sure she was ready for me to leave before any of the movies were over. (lol)

I didn't only have my friends but I had my family from Colorado that was kind enough to travel and spend time with me for weeks while Taylor was still gone. My sister flew to California and stayed almost a full month. My brother came shortly after and stayed about two and a half weeks himself. These two. Always there for me, when we're thousands of miles apart and when were sitting in the same room. Honestly guys, I don't deserve the siblings I have. One day, when I get my life together, I WILL take them on a trip of their lives. That's the least I could do for these two. Anyways.. Even though I was lucky enough to have the friends I did and to have the siblings I have, I was still crying every night.. working my butt off at Starbucks (super fun by the way).. and never knowing what day of the week it was. I began to notice something was wrong when I would be taking a costumers order and I would just draw a blank. I would stare at them as if I was listening but I wasn't. I couldn't comprehend the words they were telling me seconds after they told me. This, This is a scary feeling.

"am I okay?" "what's going on?" "am I dehydrated?" "why do I feel this way?" I asked myself all of these questions as the waiting for mu husband to get home got worse.

"Hey babe! I'm so excited you were able to call me! Guess What?? We're only a month away from you coming home, finally!" I said with excitement and my smile going from ear to ear.

"Honey.. I'm sorry. I am calling to inform you that we are turning the ship back around. We have to go back and patrol on the East side somewhere. I'm not sure why or what is happening but this isn't a joke or a drill. I love you ..." He told me. I couldn't even speak. At this point.. who knows how long it's going to be until they get home. Who knows why they got called back. Who knows what will happen. I sure as hell knew I didn't know.

A while before this, my drinking increased. After the news I got from Taylor, it increased even more. I hardly ever cooked myself food. I would drink at night, go to work the next morning, come home, walk speedy (my little old-man dog) and go to bed. Then repeat. If I heard of a party going on base then I'd try my hardest to go because I knew there would be drinking. Me and my friends would go and have a great time.. none of them knew I was actually suffering inside. At this point, I wasn't sure if it was because Taylor was still gone, because I was lonely or if I just enjoyed the alcohol THAT much. (I wasn't even of age yet..) A lot of you also don't know I have a very addictive personality. Not only does it run in my blood but once I get myself hooked on something, I'm HOOKED. I wouldn't say I was addicted to alcohol just yet, but I was definitely headed that direction. Never good to go down that road. Mentally tired, mentally drained, mentally hurt, mentally drowning, mentally losing it and no one knew.

FINALLY. The boys had a 'Coming Home' date! This is what the military community calls it when their men and women get back to the United States after a deployment. 'Coming Home'. I was SO excited and nervous at the same time! The day all of us families were supposed to meet our significant other again was a DISASTER. Not only did we all get told the false time our loved ones would be released, but we also all waited outside in the heat and then the cold as it turned from afternoon to night time. It seemed that as every minute passed by, the Marines kept changing the time we would be re-united with our loved ones. (that's the Marine Corps for you though.. Don't join. lol.) I turned around and I see this short, white, stocky man walk RIGHT by me. RIGHT FRICKIN BY ME.

"Taylor... Taylor, is that you?!" I loudly whispered. ( yes .. whispered. LOL I was nervous)

I could barely recognize him at the same time I knew it was him. My eyes were like "nahh" but my heart was like "yes bitch that's your man!" The weirdest feeling in the world. When we locked eyes, I jumped into his arms and he held onto me so tight, I thought I was going to get cut in half but I didn't mind because I hadn't felt my husbands hugs in eight months now! As I wrapped my right leg around his and held myself up, he gave me the most soft yet passionate kiss I have EVER had. Here is where it gets weird.. after the kiss and the few tears.. we didn't know how to react with each other. It was ... awkward. It was as if we were meeting for the first time, like we had no idea who the other was. Which... that was kind of true. I mean after being away from each other for eight months, we both changed a lot. If you saw how we were acting, you'd say "yeah... this shit is dead"... Before he left for this deployment, they warned us spouses and active duty members about this. I remember Taylor had to go to a couple of classes regarding how it would be once they get back home. These classes didn't stay with us too long. I wish they did. They told the active duty members to not come home and change everything their wives had been doing the past eight months. For example; routine, how they cook, when chores get done, what time the pets go for their walks and more.

"They are the ones who have been holding the house down while you've been gone, have respect."

Apparently this didn't mean crap to my husband.

The first week he was home it was slightly awkward. He wouldn't care much about picking up after himself and didn't notice that I was following behind him picking up his slack. But I wasn't upset because I thought to myself "He just needs a break, he just got back home. Give this man some time to relax and enjoy being back home in his own space."

It didn't stop. It wasn't the phase I told myself it was. The struggle never stopped.

The Struggle is Real.

Thank you all tuning into this weeks blog. Next weeks read is a sequel to this weeks. I hope you enjoy and stay along for the long, rough and disappointing ride with me.


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