Wow, can't believe that it's been a little over a year since I was on this site. So much has happened to me, that it's ridiculous. Where to begin?
I guess I'll start with the easiest stuff first. If you read my previous blogs, like all three of them, you'd know that I am in the military. Well, not anymore. I got out about six months ago on an honorable discharge. Sometimes I wish I never did. But I'll get to that point here in a second. If I go out of order with every thing that has happened, I'd leave you as confused as a mental patient. Where was I? Oh yes, I got out in June of 2010 after faithfully serving my country for almost four years. Why is it almost four years? You may be pondering, I'll tell you.
About ten months before I got out of the military, my boat went to Australia. I was excited that I can FINALLY spend time with my boyfriend in port and not just the occasional nod of our heads to each other as we pass in the p-ways. Well, after that glorious time in Australia, getting drunk, learning the culture about as far as a glass of beer or wine let me, going to the movies and see whatever flick was out drunk, going to the Australian zoo, and the malls, and shopping until my heart was content, we left. About three weeks after that, I found out that I was carrying that nine month tumor. YAY! Not really, not at the time.
You see, they don't like when women get pregnant. My shop called me a bunch of dirty names. Even though I got pregnant from my boyfriend, whom I was dating for for a year at that time. It's a double standard. You see, on the ship you're not a man unless you whore yourself around with as much women as you can in foreign ports, even if you're currently married. But once a woman gets pregnant, it's like how dare she have sex.
Well anyways, they kicked me off the ship and sent me to beautiful San Diego. Which actually that last sentence wasn't sarcastic. It is a beautiful city. I was there the year previously for a couple of months while my ship was getting repairs from that 13 hour fire that happened on board. So I was there for six months by myself. Before that time, my boyfriend proposed to me. Being naive and young, I said yes. He claimed that he was going to ask me to marry him before he found out I was pregnant anyways, and this just sweetens the deal. Then, when I went to his home state to get married, he told me that if it wasn't for me being pregnant, he wouldn't have asked, but he would never know what he just missed out on. So basically he told me that if it wasn't for me being pregnant, he would've left in six months without looking back to his new command. And still being naive, I married him because he sat there and told me that he would have regretted it for the rest of his life he never asked me when he had the chance. Yeah, a real keeper.
So in March of 2010 I gave birth to my baby boy, Donald Ian at a whopping 7 pounds 3.4 ounces and 21 inches long. That was the most happiest moment of my life. When stuff gets really bad, I think of my son. He really is a gift from heaven. Even if my husband doesn't believe that there is a heaven.
Now this story of what happened to me in a year has come to answering your question about why I got out before 4 years. You see, the military has this thing where they like, if they could, to stationed married mil-to-mil couples together at least within a fifty mile radius. I told my husband to try and get orders to San Diego. But his friend here in Lemoore filled his head in with a bunch of doo-doo. He didn't listen to me, didn't get his orders changed while he could. Nope, he was going to get stationed with his friend, and if I wanted to live with him, I would have to tap my red shoes and claim there's no one like my husband. Which in truth, I don't think that there is.
So I did a 1306 early out for a six month early out so I can live with my husband because I didn't want to be stationed in San Diego without him. I couldn't be by myself with a child in the military. Even though there's women who are single with children in the military, I couldn't do it. I knew that I needed help. And I wanted to finally be with my husband and feel for the first time that I am actually married. Plus mil-to-mil marriages have like a ten percent of lasting. That and I come from around here originally and my family is here.
That's when things started to fall apart. My husband completely changed when we started living together. I know he works during the day and I am now a stay at home mom. But when he comes home, he doesn't do anything. He rarely helps out with the baby, never cleans, and just sits here on the computer. When Donnie starts to cry, he yells at him instead of trying to figure out WHY he's crying. Then wonders why the baby won't let him feed him. He wasn't really all that skinny when I was dating him, but he wasn't fat either. When we got married, that night he told me that if he ever becomes too fat for me, just to tell him and he'd loose the weight. I don't know how many times I have told him this, but his answer to that is to laugh and agree, and claim that he's trying, when in fact he's not.
I can't stand to see my husband without his shirt on because his man titties just stare at me. They're bigger than mine are now. He has stretch marks on his stomach and it looks like he is going to give birth any minute now with quadruplets. I know it sounds bad that I can't stand to see him go shirtless, but it's the truth. Last night, as he was climbing into bed, he took his shirt off and got mad when I told him to put it back on. Really though, what would you do if you were in my position? He gets mad when he comes home and the house isn't clean. But five minutes before he came home the house was clean. He just turns into a tornado and the place goes upside down. He tells me that it's my job to clean, that when he gets off work and on the weekends he wants to enjoy his time off, not to spend it cleaning.
Last week I landed myself in the hospital for food poisoning and he watched little man as I slept after I got discharged. They hooked me up to morphine and I was out for the rest of the day. After that day, he admitted that watching the baby is a job all to itself on top of the house work, but does he help after that? No. In a couple of weeks I am leaving back to Oklahoma to get things set up before he gets there. That and we really don't have the money to live out in town, or even in the military housing. So financially it would be better if I left too. Is it bad to say that I am looking forward to leaving because that's six months where I will be away from him? When we get into fights I won't have to hear him tell me to get out of his apartment, to leave his car, and just go. I won't have to hear how he hates me because I'm nagging him, or how he only likes me when he's tired. Or that I should get pregnant because it's weird that he has the paitence of an angel. For six months I will be stress free. Or at least husband free. I honestly don't see our marriage lasting. Sometimes I wished I never told him I was pregnant, left without saying anything, and tried to make it in the military being single with a baby. It got to point where I can't even go over to my friend's apartment just across the way because he won't watch our son. There was one time where I went to borrow some cheese and lil man was screaming his head off when I returned. When asked why he was crying, my husband shrugged his shoulders in the kitchen and claimed he has been since he was born. I went into the living room, where lil man can't escape due to it being baby gated, to find a bottle cap in his mouth, ALL THE WAY. If I stayed for just a couple minutes more at her house, lil man could've choked on it and my husband wouldn't be none the wiser.
I'm sorry if I ranted on this blog. I promise I won't do it again. It's just that I really have no one to talk too. One neighbor friend is looking at a divorce, and the other one's man is in prison. So they have their worries and don't really want to hear about how shitty my life has gotten. I remember after my mother died and the court made us children go see a therapist that she said once it was good to write your feelings down because it's a good outlet. And it is, really it is. So sorry for making you all my lab rats and forcing you to hear about how my life is. But thanks for listening anyways.
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