Okay, so I've been married for over a year and a half, and just moved into my in-laws house temporarily. It got me thinking about the differences between being single and living at home, and being married and living on your own (with your spouse of course). Here are the top 6.
1) Spare time is not actually spare time. Whether you are both working, or you are the one staying home and being a "homemaker", or you are the one bringing home the bacon, spare time is precious. When you are living with your parents, you have very little responsibility. Even if you have a ton of chores, you still have very little to do. When you are married and on your own, suddenly everything is a mess, dishes are filthy, the laundry needs to be done, the shower curtain is moldy (again), and to add to all that, you have a rodent problem. Keeping a home is more than just chores. It's making your home look and feel the way you want it to, and maintaining that even when you husband constantly leaves his socks on the floor.
2) Income is not for shopping sprees. Seriously, even if you are both working full time, and you are spending less than half of your income on rent, you want to save as much as possible. There are several reasons for this. One, if you are in an apartment, chances are you will be moving every year or every other year. So accumulating useless crap like you used to is just a bad idea, because you end of Goodwilling half your junk when you are trying to pack it all up again. Secondly, you want to be able to take vacations. Seriously, that thing about "traveling the world before kids", its expensive. If you are buying new stuff all the time, you can't count on never going to Europe. Another reason so save, is so you can buy a house. Okay, this one had never crossed my mind until recently. When you buy a house, you have to be able to put down a minimum of 3.5%. That's a lot all at once. so unless you have at least ten grand in savings, you can pretty much assume you'll be living in apartments for a very long time. Finally, the rest of the money you make (after paying rent), seems to just disappear. Bills, food, water, electricity, it all adds up. Fast. Basically you are left with very little cash, which you will hold dear to your heart, and suddenly a 20 dollar T-shirt might as well be Gucci because there ain't no way you're coughing up that much for something you don't really need.
3) You actually have to cook. When I was a teenager, living with parents, each of us had to make dinner once a week. We had help. When you are married, you rely on your instincts and the internet, both of which can be very wrong sometimes. On top of that, due to lack of experience (because one meal a week hardly prepares you for the challenge of three meals a day), makes each meal take an average of 3 times longer than the recipe says it should take. Plus, you are suddenly responsible for your own health, as well as someone else's, so you have to make healthy meals. Trust me, 90% of recipes out there are have almost no nutritional value. Just because it's homemade, doesn't mean it's healthy!
4) You can be naked. One of the best things about being married and living alone is that you can air dry! hallelujah! Seriously, what's worse than trying to get dressed right after a shower and you're all sticky because the bathroom is full of steam? Being able to shower with the door open, and just wander around the house while you dry, has such a freeing effect. To top that, being naked has a positive influence on your self esteem. Before you got married and moved out, the only time you were naked was in the bathroom, so you're stuck in front of a mirror. Being naked in other parts of the house, where there aren't any mirrors to make you hate yourself, you get the experience of just being naked. No one to judge you, not even yourself.
5) Every night is date night! When you live alone, and you are broke, going out is not the easiest thing. Going to a movie seems to create more feelings of financial guilt than anything else, and then you feel like you need to skip a few meals to make up for it. So stay in! Who said a date had to mean leaving the house anyway? On many occasions, Tim and I just took a nap together and called that a date (hey, whatever brings you closer, right?). Making dinner, or dessert together is a date. Watching Netflix is a date. A picnic in the living room is a date! Basically, you can call anything you do together a date, because there is no one around to make it anything else.
6) You can take a nap without making an announcement. Before I got married, taking a nap without any interruptions was a challenge, to say the least. First of all, I'd have to tell everyone beforehand, so they would know to be quiet for a few hours (which would never actually happen). Then I'd have to deal with a wake-up time. Seriously, I had a limit to how long I was allowed to sleep, don't ask me why, I still don't know. Lastly, couch naps were out of the questions. The last time I took a couch nap, I was woken suddenly by the crashing of my younger brother emptying a huge box of Legos onto the floor in front of me, (those things are loud!). But living alone has its napping benefits. You can sleep as long as you need to, interruption free, because the only reason your hubby will wake you up, is because he misses you (which is 100% acceptable, and 100% adorable!).
Basically, the transition from living with parents, to living alone, can be a bit of a shock if you aren't prepared for it. Some of the shock is good, some of it will just be hard. But I like to focus on the benefits ;)
Thursday, June 26, 2014
Wednesday, June 25, 2014
Previous Engagements
Today, my little sister got engaged, which reminded me of my own engagement. Tomorrow it will have been two years since Tim proposed. Yeah, I'm that girl that remembers every significant date.
The day that Tim proposed, we had plans to go hike Lake Serene, which is actually where he took me for our first "date" a little more than a year prior. I was so excited, because I was sure he would propose at the top of the hike. Well, I woke up that morning to some heavy rain (surprise, surprise). Obviously, we weren't going to hike in the rain. So I went over to his house just to hang out. Since I was sure he wasn't going to propose after our plans were ruined, I didn't bother dressing for such an occasion. Yoga pants, a pink EVCC hoodie, and no makeup (did I mention the giant zit on my nose?). Anyway, I drove to his house ready for a day of movies and vegetation.
I got to his place, and for whatever reason, I was okay with the fact that our plans were ruined. It didn't bother me that I'd have to wait for another romantic occasion to get that ring on my finger. I was just happy that we both had the day off and I got to see him. I was just so happy to spend the day with my Tim.
While I was chilling at Tim's house, I was on his laptop, talking to his sister-in-law, Jordi. We were talking about her wedding dress, which she was thinking of letting me borrow (because Tim and I were the kind of people to plan and schedule our wedding date before actually getting engaged). Anyway, so while we were talking, she asked me when Tim was going to propose! I don't remember what I said, but I do remember that she told me, right before we ended the conversation, that she would text Tim every hour until he did (which still cracks me up).
After this conversation, that Tim was not actually fully aware of, due to his making a sandwich in the kitchen, he and I were just snuggling on the couch, talking. I was just so happy! For some reason, I was in the best of moods. So we were just sitting there, being cute, obnoxious lovey-doveys, when Tim get's up and says he has a love note for me upstairs. I get all excited, because he didn't write me love notes nearly as often as I wrote them for him. So he goes upstairs to get he note. As he walks downstairs, he reaches in his pocket for the note. Me, being the weirdo that I am, asked him why he bothered to put it in his pocket for the 5 seconds it would take to get to the stairs, to which he replied "Well, I just remembered it was already in my pocket". Silly Tim.
Tim comes over to me, and hands me the note. He looks a little bit nervous. I start to open the note, and out of the corner of my eyes, I see Tim start to kneel down (I'm pretty sure on both knees). I get the note open, and right in the middle I see a ring, taped to the paper.
Now I wasn't one of those cute girls that starts to cry and wave her hand in front of her face. No. I started laughing. Well, okay giggling. But still, I couldn't stop, and I fell to my knees in front of Tim (who was on his knees, and shaking with nervousness). I said yes. of course, and he put the ring on my finger. Then I realized I had to read the letter! So I went back and read the letter, which was adorable and romantic and sentimental, and all about how I make him better, blah blah blah. After reading the note, which ended with the obvious question, I said "yes" again, and we hugged and kissed, and giggled, and just felt happy.
That was one of the best days of my life. So congratulations to my beautiful sister on one of the most exiting days of her life!
The day that Tim proposed, we had plans to go hike Lake Serene, which is actually where he took me for our first "date" a little more than a year prior. I was so excited, because I was sure he would propose at the top of the hike. Well, I woke up that morning to some heavy rain (surprise, surprise). Obviously, we weren't going to hike in the rain. So I went over to his house just to hang out. Since I was sure he wasn't going to propose after our plans were ruined, I didn't bother dressing for such an occasion. Yoga pants, a pink EVCC hoodie, and no makeup (did I mention the giant zit on my nose?). Anyway, I drove to his house ready for a day of movies and vegetation.
I got to his place, and for whatever reason, I was okay with the fact that our plans were ruined. It didn't bother me that I'd have to wait for another romantic occasion to get that ring on my finger. I was just happy that we both had the day off and I got to see him. I was just so happy to spend the day with my Tim.
While I was chilling at Tim's house, I was on his laptop, talking to his sister-in-law, Jordi. We were talking about her wedding dress, which she was thinking of letting me borrow (because Tim and I were the kind of people to plan and schedule our wedding date before actually getting engaged). Anyway, so while we were talking, she asked me when Tim was going to propose! I don't remember what I said, but I do remember that she told me, right before we ended the conversation, that she would text Tim every hour until he did (which still cracks me up).
After this conversation, that Tim was not actually fully aware of, due to his making a sandwich in the kitchen, he and I were just snuggling on the couch, talking. I was just so happy! For some reason, I was in the best of moods. So we were just sitting there, being cute, obnoxious lovey-doveys, when Tim get's up and says he has a love note for me upstairs. I get all excited, because he didn't write me love notes nearly as often as I wrote them for him. So he goes upstairs to get he note. As he walks downstairs, he reaches in his pocket for the note. Me, being the weirdo that I am, asked him why he bothered to put it in his pocket for the 5 seconds it would take to get to the stairs, to which he replied "Well, I just remembered it was already in my pocket". Silly Tim.
Tim comes over to me, and hands me the note. He looks a little bit nervous. I start to open the note, and out of the corner of my eyes, I see Tim start to kneel down (I'm pretty sure on both knees). I get the note open, and right in the middle I see a ring, taped to the paper.
 |
| My sister and her new Fiance! |
That was one of the best days of my life. So congratulations to my beautiful sister on one of the most exiting days of her life!
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| My sister's gorgeous ring! |
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| One of mine and Tim's engagement photos. |
Saturday, June 14, 2014
Different Worlds
Tim is the most optimistic person on the planet. So it makes sense that he doesn't quite understand the world of the depressed and anxious. But the man is learning, and he provides me with the support and patience that I need.
This post is going to be a little bit different. I want to open up my world a little bit, and share what makes life different for those of us struggling with depression, anxiety, or PTSD, all of which I have experienced.
I just had my last therapy session after a year and a half of regular appointments. I have come a very long way. When I began, I was diagnosed with severe Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, depression, and anxiety. It was severe enough that it affected my ability to work, which resulted in my being without a job for 4 months (which actually turned out to be a critical part of my healing).
Now, I have a handful of tools to work through each day and come out just as bright and shiny as when I walked out of my therapist's office with a smile on my face. I understand my own head a little better, and I know what to say to myself to get through those gloomy moments. I am new.
Someone, somewhere on the internet, gave the best example ever of what life is like for the depressed. I wish I knew who said it so I could give credit where it is due (so, sir, if you ever come across this, please tell me your name so I can credit you!). They described life with depression as walking upstream, while everyone else is on the shore, hopping and skipping along like its nothing. For those of us in the middle of the river, where the current is the strongest, we have to fight, and we have to push. We can't rest, we can't let go, because if we do, we fall back, the current takes us back downstream and we lose all of that hard-earned progress. But it would feel so good to just let go. Just for a minute, and not have to try so hard. We just want a break, we want to lie back and let the current drag us back to where we are comfortable. But then we look up, and see all of our family and friends moving forward, leaving us behind, and suddenly we have to try again. And we have to work so hard to get back.
When life is this hard, we lower our expectations. We begin to think "well, I don't need to be happy, I just need to make it". The world is so big and scary, and no matter which way we look at it, there is no easy route. There will never be any rest.
That's when anxiety kicks in. The whole world will fall apart if we mess up. Like the world is hanging by a thread, and at any moment, it will break. We can't rest, we can't relax, because the world keeps moving. At lightening speed. What if I mess up? What if I humiliate myself? How do I escape this terrifying world?
I first experienced extreme anxiety a couple of years ago, and I didn't recognize the feeling. When I was a kid, I would have this recurring dream. It was a dream so intense, that it was more about a feeling than an image, or a story. It was a feeling of complete chaos. At first, it was calm, and perfect. Smooth, and untouched. Then something would disturb this perfect peace, and chaos would take over, almost instantly. It was like a wave of anger and frustration came crashing down on my perfect calm, and then this awful, uneasy feeling would take over and make me feel like my whole body was under pressure, and exploding at the same time.
I felt this feeling while I was awake for the first time ever a couple of years ago, and it scared me so badly that I told my therapist about it. That was when I was diagnosed with Anxiety.
This feeling of uncontrollable chaos is even scarier than depression for me, mostly because I have still not identified the cause. I have, however, learned to tell the difference between normal, healthy anxiety, and an attack of unnecessary proportions. This is where Tim usually comes in the save the day. All I have to do is tell him that I'm having an attack, and he just speaks calmly to me. He restores order where chaos has taken over. He calms my storm.
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is a bit different. There are specific causes. Often, victims of this disorder don't remember the event that caused it. PTSD affects the memory. As a coping mechanism, certain traumatizing memories are erased, which leads to behaviors and emotions that don't have much of an explanation. Fear, anxiety and depression, without any known reason. For others, the memory of the traumatic event are all we can think about. That was my leading symptom. I was taken over by The experience. I was angry, I was afraid, I couldn't sleep. Every thought I had revolved around what happened. I blamed myself, I hated myself, I wondered why I had to experience something so awful. I thought of myself as worthless.
PTSD took a toll on my mind and body. I would go through phases of being extremely careful, and then extremely careless. There were time when I didn't care at all what happened to me. I had already experienced the worst, what did it matter now? Who cares if I get in a car accident and die, who cares if I'm mugged and beaten to a pulp. I just didn't care.
But then I lost my job. I would have to leave early because of an anxiety attack. I couldn't make myself appear cheerful enough. I brought people down. I'd call in sick when I was actually fine, just because I was overwhelmed by the easiest job on the planet (seriously, what's easier than seating people at a restaurant?). Anxiety, depression, and PTSD made simple tasks seem so difficult. So I got help.
When I started therapy, I was determined. No beating around the bush. In my first session, and spilled it all out. Told my entire life story, no hesitation. I wanted to heal. It took a year and a half, but I did it. I went WAY beyond my comfort zone, I tried those weird, shrinky, relaxation exercises, I created mind maps, I even participated in those exercises where they hold up a picture and you say what comes to mind. I gave it my all.
But the weirdest thing about all this is that most people weren't aware of my struggles, or at least not the depth of them. Depression and sadness are two different things. I was depressed, and scared, but I was not sad. Depression is like a rock in your shoe. It's always there, you can always feel it, and it has the ability to ruin your day, but you can still have a great day. I was having great days. I have great days! I'm married to my best friend, we have very little responsibility, and we have so much fun. But that rock is always in my shoe. I know its there, and it is always tempting to ruin my day. But I have a choice. I can dwell on that rock, I can let it fester, and I can let it overpower my great day, or I can just let it be.
I choose to let it be.
This post is going to be a little bit different. I want to open up my world a little bit, and share what makes life different for those of us struggling with depression, anxiety, or PTSD, all of which I have experienced.
I just had my last therapy session after a year and a half of regular appointments. I have come a very long way. When I began, I was diagnosed with severe Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, depression, and anxiety. It was severe enough that it affected my ability to work, which resulted in my being without a job for 4 months (which actually turned out to be a critical part of my healing).
Now, I have a handful of tools to work through each day and come out just as bright and shiny as when I walked out of my therapist's office with a smile on my face. I understand my own head a little better, and I know what to say to myself to get through those gloomy moments. I am new.
Someone, somewhere on the internet, gave the best example ever of what life is like for the depressed. I wish I knew who said it so I could give credit where it is due (so, sir, if you ever come across this, please tell me your name so I can credit you!). They described life with depression as walking upstream, while everyone else is on the shore, hopping and skipping along like its nothing. For those of us in the middle of the river, where the current is the strongest, we have to fight, and we have to push. We can't rest, we can't let go, because if we do, we fall back, the current takes us back downstream and we lose all of that hard-earned progress. But it would feel so good to just let go. Just for a minute, and not have to try so hard. We just want a break, we want to lie back and let the current drag us back to where we are comfortable. But then we look up, and see all of our family and friends moving forward, leaving us behind, and suddenly we have to try again. And we have to work so hard to get back.
When life is this hard, we lower our expectations. We begin to think "well, I don't need to be happy, I just need to make it". The world is so big and scary, and no matter which way we look at it, there is no easy route. There will never be any rest.
That's when anxiety kicks in. The whole world will fall apart if we mess up. Like the world is hanging by a thread, and at any moment, it will break. We can't rest, we can't relax, because the world keeps moving. At lightening speed. What if I mess up? What if I humiliate myself? How do I escape this terrifying world?
I first experienced extreme anxiety a couple of years ago, and I didn't recognize the feeling. When I was a kid, I would have this recurring dream. It was a dream so intense, that it was more about a feeling than an image, or a story. It was a feeling of complete chaos. At first, it was calm, and perfect. Smooth, and untouched. Then something would disturb this perfect peace, and chaos would take over, almost instantly. It was like a wave of anger and frustration came crashing down on my perfect calm, and then this awful, uneasy feeling would take over and make me feel like my whole body was under pressure, and exploding at the same time.
I felt this feeling while I was awake for the first time ever a couple of years ago, and it scared me so badly that I told my therapist about it. That was when I was diagnosed with Anxiety.
This feeling of uncontrollable chaos is even scarier than depression for me, mostly because I have still not identified the cause. I have, however, learned to tell the difference between normal, healthy anxiety, and an attack of unnecessary proportions. This is where Tim usually comes in the save the day. All I have to do is tell him that I'm having an attack, and he just speaks calmly to me. He restores order where chaos has taken over. He calms my storm.
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is a bit different. There are specific causes. Often, victims of this disorder don't remember the event that caused it. PTSD affects the memory. As a coping mechanism, certain traumatizing memories are erased, which leads to behaviors and emotions that don't have much of an explanation. Fear, anxiety and depression, without any known reason. For others, the memory of the traumatic event are all we can think about. That was my leading symptom. I was taken over by The experience. I was angry, I was afraid, I couldn't sleep. Every thought I had revolved around what happened. I blamed myself, I hated myself, I wondered why I had to experience something so awful. I thought of myself as worthless.
PTSD took a toll on my mind and body. I would go through phases of being extremely careful, and then extremely careless. There were time when I didn't care at all what happened to me. I had already experienced the worst, what did it matter now? Who cares if I get in a car accident and die, who cares if I'm mugged and beaten to a pulp. I just didn't care.
But then I lost my job. I would have to leave early because of an anxiety attack. I couldn't make myself appear cheerful enough. I brought people down. I'd call in sick when I was actually fine, just because I was overwhelmed by the easiest job on the planet (seriously, what's easier than seating people at a restaurant?). Anxiety, depression, and PTSD made simple tasks seem so difficult. So I got help.
When I started therapy, I was determined. No beating around the bush. In my first session, and spilled it all out. Told my entire life story, no hesitation. I wanted to heal. It took a year and a half, but I did it. I went WAY beyond my comfort zone, I tried those weird, shrinky, relaxation exercises, I created mind maps, I even participated in those exercises where they hold up a picture and you say what comes to mind. I gave it my all.
But the weirdest thing about all this is that most people weren't aware of my struggles, or at least not the depth of them. Depression and sadness are two different things. I was depressed, and scared, but I was not sad. Depression is like a rock in your shoe. It's always there, you can always feel it, and it has the ability to ruin your day, but you can still have a great day. I was having great days. I have great days! I'm married to my best friend, we have very little responsibility, and we have so much fun. But that rock is always in my shoe. I know its there, and it is always tempting to ruin my day. But I have a choice. I can dwell on that rock, I can let it fester, and I can let it overpower my great day, or I can just let it be.
I choose to let it be.
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