(no subject)
Sometimes... it really hits me hard just how much stuff we take for granted.
Sometimes those of us from the wealthier areas of the world, specifically America, Britain etc... have this... "mentality" that things will be a certain way when we become adults and move out on our own.
When I was growing up, I always believed that when I was an adult, I would move out, get a good paying job, get married, have children, have an "OK" car that didn't break down every other day... of course reality never works out the way we think it will when we're thinking about events before they happen. That's just life... but although I was (unknowingly) guided and trained from an early age to marry a man in the military, and was put through various stages to bring me to the emotional maturity needed to withstand the brutal inhumane treatments and emotional turmoils of being a Marine wife... I never dreamed that life would be like this.
When we're young, we don't realize just how difficult it is to be an adult. Many times as younger people we just assume that "mom & dad can fix everything! (no matter what it is)". Oh what a rude awakening one gets as we begin to realize that life is not the awesome time of freedom & making your own choices with no more bossy people telling us what to do!! lol... Little do we know as children that life really sucks. Of course if adults had told us the truth, that "growing up" isnt the basket of roses it looks to be from our perspective at the time... we probably wouldn't rush to grow up quite so quickly. lol
Some people question why in our American society, and many of the other societies on our planet right now, but it makes sense to me why young adults are not rushing to move our of their parents homes quite like they were several (30 - 40+) years ago. Sometimes life is easier when multiple people live under one household roof.
Right now, there are 7-people living under mom & dads roof; 8 if my brothers girlfriend is here. It was one of the furthest things from my mind when we got married that my husband and I would be forced to move in with my parents, alternating between both my parents and his parents households... We are in the process of paying off a brand new 2011 Scion TC that we signed for a little over a year ago in California during the first week we were there... believing we would be spending the next 4-years in the Marines and by the time we were done our car was supposed to have been paid off. Due to the fact that all companies, no matter who they are, take advantage of the military personnel... our payments, for everything from our car to our phones etc. are higher than they would have been normally. I am locked into those car payments for the remainder of the payment schedule.
If the car was in 100% working order, it would be easier to swallow, but on the way home from a party in October, Devon and I hit a deer. The insurance, being full coverage, will cover all the repairs, but I have to come up with the deductible... which is not an easy thing to do when you are only making enough to cover your bills and nothing more.
If we did not live with my parents, we would not be able to eat. We would be homeless at this point and the government has turned their back on us entirely. My husband is incapable of holding down any form of a normal job. He has repeatedly tried... but just cannot handle the stress of being depended upon by anyone besides me. Even then some days he cannot handle the stress of my depending upon him for minor things, like cooking lunch, or taking the laundry to the washer... and although I am driving a 7-ton straight truck every day... (0430 - 1200) being paid only with the amounts needed for my bills with none left over is so extremely stressful at times...
I'm venting... I need to find a way to scrounge up the money by the end of the month. The insurance payment has been issued into check form and sent to the repair shop, but its been long enough now, and there is enough snow on the ground that I not only need to get the car repaired but also need to find a place to store it after being repaired until the snow melts enough to use the car again.
I really miss my little car... and so does my beagle-basset hound Jethro. I needed to get into the car for some of my books and he heard me unlocking the car. He was on the front porch and scrambled so fast out to our car that he left skid marks in the snow and ice, then couldn't slow down quick enough, so ended up sliding... fell on his butt... spun in a circle all the while trying to continue running toward me as I am digging around in the car. He finally gets his momentum reversed and goes barreling into the drivers seat, then between the front seats into the back seat and back into "his" seat so fast I thought I'd see a loony toons smoke cloud hovering over the air he had just occupied. He wouldn't get out of the car no matter how much I coaxed him either... I ended up dragging him out before he'd get out... the funny thing is I knew he was really smart... I just never thought he would remember my little car so well. He loves going for rides, and while Devon was taken away from me during barracks restriction he was my only companion. I had to do a little bit of convincing that I needed a dog when we were still out there in California... but Devon eventually allowed me to take Jethro in when one of the couples we knew were getting divorced and were leaving. I had been taking care of their daughter off and on for nearly at year by the time they separated, but Jethro had just come into their home about 2-weeks before then and wasn't even close to settling in, so it was a very quick transition from their home to mine.
Jethro was whats known as a "marine pet". He got passed from so many families that he didn't know who to trust and who not to. (5-families in 3 months, just that I know of). Now that he's realized I am his person, and that he is in a forever home now here in Indiana, he has relaxed a lot and his true personality has started to come out a bit more. However, when we first got home (April 28, 2012) he was still really agitated. It was a long drive home, took over 7-days to make the drive, and there were times, like when we were in Las Vegas, that he flipped out so bad we couldn't leave him in the hotel room. It would have been too traumatic for him. He had been left behind so many times after the various families moved that while I was packing he was constantly underfoot in trying not to be left behind.
There was a heat wave already in April and it didn't let up all summer. In June Jethro got really sick from the heat and almost died. His body was shutting down, and he had said goodbye to me by the time I got him into the doctor. They saved him, but if I had had to wait another 20-minutes he'd have died. I had to make a decision to either use the remaining money from California to save my dog... or to have him put down. I couldn't deal with the decision. It was too soon after the trauma of California... and I just lost it. The vet kindly made the decision for me and cut our bills in half so she could save him, and I had to leave him there for 3-days but she pulled him back from death...
I haven't had such a violent reaction to the loss of a pet since my german shepard was stolen. It surprised me. I hadn't realized just how attached I had become to my basset hound. But, when you think about it... it makes sense. When it came time to make a decision to start packing, I was able to fit all of our worldly possessions into a shipping crate the size of a mini van. Had I not made the decision to pack our things before knowing for sure we were being sent home, I would have had 3-days to pack, instead of 3-weeks, while pregnant and they would have evicted me out on my ass without so much as a "sorry".
Due to the health problems I am currently facing, the stress of being literally torn away from my husband, being separated from him with no contact what so ever allowed for over 4-months... the stress of sneaking in to get food in for him (he was locked up, not allowed any food, all pay checks had been stopped and so had no money to buy food with, I had had to take a second job to support us, all while he was being punished and medicated until he was a zombie...) all of these factors compounded on themselves causing me to eventually lose the baby when we were in Missouri on our way home. The doctors believe that I would have lost it anyway, that it is due to my health problems, (I am having serious blood glucose issues) but I know that the level of stress I am under causes blood sugar spikes... and lows. Essentially, my body force fed excessive amounts of sugar and then starved my baby to death until my body miscarried it to try to save my life.
I know it was a boy. I held it in my hands, and could see all the defining features; eyes, nose, mouth, hands, feet. The doctors say I was about 6 to 7 weeks along... but being that all those features were definable, and that it would have been a miracle from God for us to have conceived while he was on barracks restriction... I tend to wonder if perhaps we werent pregnant longer than I realized and if perhaps I wasnt twice as far along. Especially since I have taken this miscarriage a lot harder than any of the others.
The Lord has given me a sense of peace about all of my babies who've gone to be with him. He has given me several visions, talked to me through the people around me and various bible verses... and has assured me that my baby boy is safe, warm and happy. That's all I really need to know...
Sometimes those of us from the wealthier areas of the world, specifically America, Britain etc... have this... "mentality" that things will be a certain way when we become adults and move out on our own.
When I was growing up, I always believed that when I was an adult, I would move out, get a good paying job, get married, have children, have an "OK" car that didn't break down every other day... of course reality never works out the way we think it will when we're thinking about events before they happen. That's just life... but although I was (unknowingly) guided and trained from an early age to marry a man in the military, and was put through various stages to bring me to the emotional maturity needed to withstand the brutal inhumane treatments and emotional turmoils of being a Marine wife... I never dreamed that life would be like this.
When we're young, we don't realize just how difficult it is to be an adult. Many times as younger people we just assume that "mom & dad can fix everything! (no matter what it is)". Oh what a rude awakening one gets as we begin to realize that life is not the awesome time of freedom & making your own choices with no more bossy people telling us what to do!! lol... Little do we know as children that life really sucks. Of course if adults had told us the truth, that "growing up" isnt the basket of roses it looks to be from our perspective at the time... we probably wouldn't rush to grow up quite so quickly. lol
Some people question why in our American society, and many of the other societies on our planet right now, but it makes sense to me why young adults are not rushing to move our of their parents homes quite like they were several (30 - 40+) years ago. Sometimes life is easier when multiple people live under one household roof.
Right now, there are 7-people living under mom & dads roof; 8 if my brothers girlfriend is here. It was one of the furthest things from my mind when we got married that my husband and I would be forced to move in with my parents, alternating between both my parents and his parents households... We are in the process of paying off a brand new 2011 Scion TC that we signed for a little over a year ago in California during the first week we were there... believing we would be spending the next 4-years in the Marines and by the time we were done our car was supposed to have been paid off. Due to the fact that all companies, no matter who they are, take advantage of the military personnel... our payments, for everything from our car to our phones etc. are higher than they would have been normally. I am locked into those car payments for the remainder of the payment schedule.
If the car was in 100% working order, it would be easier to swallow, but on the way home from a party in October, Devon and I hit a deer. The insurance, being full coverage, will cover all the repairs, but I have to come up with the deductible... which is not an easy thing to do when you are only making enough to cover your bills and nothing more.
If we did not live with my parents, we would not be able to eat. We would be homeless at this point and the government has turned their back on us entirely. My husband is incapable of holding down any form of a normal job. He has repeatedly tried... but just cannot handle the stress of being depended upon by anyone besides me. Even then some days he cannot handle the stress of my depending upon him for minor things, like cooking lunch, or taking the laundry to the washer... and although I am driving a 7-ton straight truck every day... (0430 - 1200) being paid only with the amounts needed for my bills with none left over is so extremely stressful at times...
I'm venting... I need to find a way to scrounge up the money by the end of the month. The insurance payment has been issued into check form and sent to the repair shop, but its been long enough now, and there is enough snow on the ground that I not only need to get the car repaired but also need to find a place to store it after being repaired until the snow melts enough to use the car again.
I really miss my little car... and so does my beagle-basset hound Jethro. I needed to get into the car for some of my books and he heard me unlocking the car. He was on the front porch and scrambled so fast out to our car that he left skid marks in the snow and ice, then couldn't slow down quick enough, so ended up sliding... fell on his butt... spun in a circle all the while trying to continue running toward me as I am digging around in the car. He finally gets his momentum reversed and goes barreling into the drivers seat, then between the front seats into the back seat and back into "his" seat so fast I thought I'd see a loony toons smoke cloud hovering over the air he had just occupied. He wouldn't get out of the car no matter how much I coaxed him either... I ended up dragging him out before he'd get out... the funny thing is I knew he was really smart... I just never thought he would remember my little car so well. He loves going for rides, and while Devon was taken away from me during barracks restriction he was my only companion. I had to do a little bit of convincing that I needed a dog when we were still out there in California... but Devon eventually allowed me to take Jethro in when one of the couples we knew were getting divorced and were leaving. I had been taking care of their daughter off and on for nearly at year by the time they separated, but Jethro had just come into their home about 2-weeks before then and wasn't even close to settling in, so it was a very quick transition from their home to mine.
Jethro was whats known as a "marine pet". He got passed from so many families that he didn't know who to trust and who not to. (5-families in 3 months, just that I know of). Now that he's realized I am his person, and that he is in a forever home now here in Indiana, he has relaxed a lot and his true personality has started to come out a bit more. However, when we first got home (April 28, 2012) he was still really agitated. It was a long drive home, took over 7-days to make the drive, and there were times, like when we were in Las Vegas, that he flipped out so bad we couldn't leave him in the hotel room. It would have been too traumatic for him. He had been left behind so many times after the various families moved that while I was packing he was constantly underfoot in trying not to be left behind.
There was a heat wave already in April and it didn't let up all summer. In June Jethro got really sick from the heat and almost died. His body was shutting down, and he had said goodbye to me by the time I got him into the doctor. They saved him, but if I had had to wait another 20-minutes he'd have died. I had to make a decision to either use the remaining money from California to save my dog... or to have him put down. I couldn't deal with the decision. It was too soon after the trauma of California... and I just lost it. The vet kindly made the decision for me and cut our bills in half so she could save him, and I had to leave him there for 3-days but she pulled him back from death...
I haven't had such a violent reaction to the loss of a pet since my german shepard was stolen. It surprised me. I hadn't realized just how attached I had become to my basset hound. But, when you think about it... it makes sense. When it came time to make a decision to start packing, I was able to fit all of our worldly possessions into a shipping crate the size of a mini van. Had I not made the decision to pack our things before knowing for sure we were being sent home, I would have had 3-days to pack, instead of 3-weeks, while pregnant and they would have evicted me out on my ass without so much as a "sorry".
Due to the health problems I am currently facing, the stress of being literally torn away from my husband, being separated from him with no contact what so ever allowed for over 4-months... the stress of sneaking in to get food in for him (he was locked up, not allowed any food, all pay checks had been stopped and so had no money to buy food with, I had had to take a second job to support us, all while he was being punished and medicated until he was a zombie...) all of these factors compounded on themselves causing me to eventually lose the baby when we were in Missouri on our way home. The doctors believe that I would have lost it anyway, that it is due to my health problems, (I am having serious blood glucose issues) but I know that the level of stress I am under causes blood sugar spikes... and lows. Essentially, my body force fed excessive amounts of sugar and then starved my baby to death until my body miscarried it to try to save my life.
I know it was a boy. I held it in my hands, and could see all the defining features; eyes, nose, mouth, hands, feet. The doctors say I was about 6 to 7 weeks along... but being that all those features were definable, and that it would have been a miracle from God for us to have conceived while he was on barracks restriction... I tend to wonder if perhaps we werent pregnant longer than I realized and if perhaps I wasnt twice as far along. Especially since I have taken this miscarriage a lot harder than any of the others.
The Lord has given me a sense of peace about all of my babies who've gone to be with him. He has given me several visions, talked to me through the people around me and various bible verses... and has assured me that my baby boy is safe, warm and happy. That's all I really need to know...