Goodness, it’s been a long time since I wrote anything here. In fact, it’s been a long time since I wrote in general. A good deal has happened since my last post and, as I am writing this on my iPhone, I’ll probably miss something.
Firstly, I am now unofficially engaged. R and I are wonderfully happy together and I couldn’t imagine my life without him. He’s the one person who, when I want to break and push everyone away, stays and keeps me sane. Well, relatively speaking, anyway.
Speaking of my sanity levels, I am also currently going through therapy for depression and anxiety. I broke down about a month ago right before I was supposed to stand an armed watch. When I realized that I was afraid to arm up because of the things I was thinking, I checked into the hospital and started getting help. I’m not better, even though everyone seems to think I am. I’m afraid that may be a big hurdle for me in terms of getting treatment. I’m doing better at work because I’m finally doing something I enjoy. But my chain of command only really sees me at work, so they don’t know about the way I break down over little things like almost spilling a drink or jokes R sometimes makes (ones that, depending on my mood, I am actually ok with). They don’t know that the other half of me, the real me, is still very broken inside and needs help.
Best news of the day, though, is that I am no longer DCPO. My turnover is done and over with and my relief now does the maintenance. I can now focus on being a technician and my new workout routine.
Which, of course, leads me to my next topic. I plan to work out every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. This is more because I need to pass my fitness test than anything else. I need to pass it so I can rank up. I don’t particularly want the rank, but it has its benefits. Like, for example, being able to afford an apartment off base that I would be able to go home to my fiancé almost every night and know that we’re the only ones who live there.
Random thought here (interrupting a fairly organized post), but saying fiancé feels weird. Like, on one hand, I’m shocked the phrase can be applied to me and my life. I never thought I’d ever get past the phase where I liked someone and was kinda seeing them. I never once imagined I’d find someone I’d feel I couldn’t live without. Someone I would love so dearly that I would say yes to a proposal before it ever actually happened and without a second thought.
On the other hand, though, I’m ecstatic. I can’t wait to have my last name change and not have anyone be able to tell me we aren’t allowed to be together. I can’t wait to have the world know that I’m his and he’s mine. I need the world to know that I am the luckiest woman in the world.
And the only thing that could make me happier is the day that “fiancé” becomes “husband.”