It's been awhile, hasn't it?

It's been almost two months since I last posted, and that's good.  Honestly, I was getting so wrapped around the axle with this retirement thing that I pretty much had a mini-breakdown.  Really.  Luckily I was able to up my meds and get stabilized again before I really went off the deep end, because that was looming large.

Sometimes people look at me askance when I reference my meds, and I completely understand.  Mental illness is still such a taboo subject in this oversharing society, unfortunately.  For my entire (and I mean ENTIRE; I have memories of anxiety at age 3) life I have been carrying around a bag full of anxiety and depression, and it hasn't been until recently that I've put myself on the right combo of medications to help empty that bag.  However, anytime a stressor like retirement or moving appears on the scene, I begin to pack those bags right back up again and head down the road to crazy town.  I tend to self-medicate (a learned behavior after so many years); when I was younger it was through alcohol, drugs, and sex.  As an adult and a parent those weren't really viable options, so food has become my weapon of choice for the past 16 or so years.  With my current medication that hasn't really been a problem, but when I realized that I'd gained a good ten to twenty pounds over the past three or four months (!!!!), I knew it was time to look at my dosages and increase them immediately.

Now that I've been on the increased dosage for about a month, my body chemistry has begun to change and I no longer find myself reaching for the candy or the cookies to comfort my worry.  My weight has begun to stabilize and I'm able to start exercising again.  I try not to be too down on my self or my body--it's pretty obvious that I'm FAT (maybe even DEATH FAT), but if that's how I have to be in order to maintain a sense of rationality and happiness, then so be it.    Believe me, I lost a lot of weight a few years back strictly through diet and exercise (we're talking 900 calories/2-3 hours of exercise 5x a week), and I was miserable.  The only thing I could focus on was my food and exercise; everything else, including my family, became a distraction that I had to ignore to stay on track.  So yeah, I lost that weight but I also lost a good part of my mind while doing so.   I can't go there again, I just can't.  I know that I'm unhealthy right now, but I also know that I am sane, rational, even-keeled and loving.  If that comes with elastic waistbands, then so be it.

In retirement news, Mike has several companies knocking on the door.  Right now we've got a 95% chance of moving back to Minnesota, but a company with a facility in Alabama and another with a facility outside of Chicago have expressed interest in him as well.  We want to be in Minnesota SO BAD (I've never lived around family my entire life), but if these other offers come through with salaries well above Minn., then we're going to seriously consider them.  The past twenty years have been for God and Country, this next twenty is for Mammon.

Emptying out the closets

For the past 12 years, I've waited until the week before the packers come to clean out my closets.  Waiting until the last minute has resulted in me toting around 12 years worth of detrius, because I would expend all of my energy on one closet and then promise myself I'd be better at the next house.  Yeah.  That explains why I still have my daughter's supply list from three schools ago, old grade books, and who knows how many linked-together paper clips shoved into the bottom drawer of my desk.  I can assure you that drawer hasn't been cleaned out since Florida (and Florida was what, 2005?)  and it had the dust to prove it.

This time, it's going to be different.  We really are embarking on a whole new chapter of our lives, and I don't want to be dragging the same old junk to our new home. You know, the "clean slate" and all.  Therefore, I've decided to throughly clean and  declutter one room a month--I figure that within the next six months I can handle that.  Today I did my desk/computer area, and although it was rewarding, it was also a little sad.  That bunch of linked-together paper clips?  I did that one afternoon when I was still teaching; it was sixth period and I was on my fifth showing of "The Outsiders", totally and completely bored.  I linked two boxes of paper clips together while sitting at my desk, and when the time came to clean out said desk, I dumped the chain into a small container along with other random desk things.  That container went straight into my desk at home, never to be touched again until today.  When I lifted that chain out, all those memories came flooding back--the smell of my portable classroom, the noise of the air conditioners, the rows of desks laid out in front of me.  Suddenly I so wanted to be back there, back in May of 2005, back when things were different and easier and I didn't have to worry about jobs and salaries and braces and everything else that this retirement is bringing.

I put the paper clips back into the desk drawer--but I did throw away that supply list!

That old Veruca feeling

I know that it's a charmed life I lead--good kids, good husband,  living parents--but there are times when I want more.  Not only do I want more, but I want it now!  Express shipping, get it tomorrow, NOW NOW NOW!

That Kindle in my shopping basket is calling to me, singing a sweet melody that only I can hear.  I've been trying so hard to ignore it, to use my common sense and better judgement (surely there are other things I could spend this  $300 on; hey, how about SAVING it?) but the song still keeps running through my head.

I'm going to obsess on this until I give in and click the button.  Sure, I'll feel guilty and ashamed once my credit card bill comes in, but at least I'll have what I want--for now.  I've been doing so good for the past year or so and haven't given in to these wants, but lately it's become harder and harder.  We've got the money, but with retirement/moving coming up, we're really trying to curb spending and pay off everything.  Knowing that doesn't change my need, though.  In some ways it even makes my urge to spend even stronger, which then cycles my guilt, which leads back to spending.

I'll just bookmark that Kindle for now.

I think.

Six Months Out

We are six months out from my husband's retirement from the Navy.  Well, six months from when he starts terminal leave; six months out from our new life.

It scares the stuffing out of me, to be honest.  There are so many unknowns with this process and just as many scary stories as there are successful.  I don't think he will have a problem finding a job, but what if he does?  We aren't in a position to have him completely retire--he's got to go immediately into another 20 year career in order for us to be comfortable.

I'm trying not to wish this time away...but I do wish it would pass.