My blog......my freedom to express myself......

Just a real quick note...............

 I use this blog to express myself, my feelings, and my thoughts. It helps me de-stress, vent, cheer, etc. 

Whatever I write on this blog shouldn't be used without my permission. 

That means anything, and everything on here. No matter how helpful people think they are being. 

This is the one place I feel I can openly express myself, my fears, and joys. 

So please, readers, if you have a concern about something I post, please let me know. But please, don't put it on blast or go to someone else about the things I write here. In some cases, it can make things worse.

Slightly off topic...........

First off, I want to apologize for not posting in a while. Things have been hectic with unpacking and trip to San Antonio to visit John. 

This posting is going to be a lot different. But I find it very therapeutic to write, so you all will be my sounding board. 

A little over a year ago my husband returned from an 11 month deployment to Afghanistan. As a military spouse, we're all told that the number of months your soldier is deployed will be the number of months it takes for them to return to "normal". Well I am here to tell you, that is so far from the truth! 

The experiences that John went through during his year in Afghanistan are completely beyond my ability to understand. I have no way of putting myself in his shoes, to understand how he feels or why reacts a certain way. I'm sad to say, he still, 12 months later, is suffering from some form of PTSD. But what's worse than the PTSD, is the fact that those experiences, and his time in Afghanistan have changed him so completely, that he really is no longer the same guy who left for war. 

This change has been very difficult for me. I wish it were as easy as so many people lead me to believe it would be. I am having a very, VERY hard time adjusting to the "new" John. Still, 12 months later, we are adjusting. Not only is he a rougher, harder, more abrasive, more closed off version of himself, but he is also completely different in so many ways. 

When he returned, I quickly wanted our lives to return to the way they were when he left. I knew I had changed, but I also knew I wanted our normal life again. The life where I didn't have to be 100% independent, and rely completely on myself for happiness. I also wasn't prepared to be the "rock" in our relationship for such an extended period of time. I would be lying if I said this hasn't taken it's toll on me.

The thing I am battling most is, how do I learn to adjust to this "new" guy whom I'm very comfortable with, whom I've been with for 12 years, whom is my very best friend? We still love each other deeply, and in a way that is enough. But for me, the things that fill my "love tank" he can't give me anymore. I know the answer is, I need to learn to find ways to make myself happy. I need to not rely on one person to bring me happiness or to define my self worth. It's so darn hard...............

In an effort to find ways to bring myself the emotional connection I'm missing, I recently started running. And oddly enough, it's given me something to strive for, and something to bring pride to myself. I think, right now, at this moment, it's helping to fill the void I'm missing, that John simply can't give to me right now. 

This might seem like I'm complaining about my husband, but it's far from it. I'm just sad that war (even one that he signed up willing to fight), has taken so much not just from my husband, but from my family. And we're both learning to adjust and adapt to this new way of living. I know deep down he loves me, and he does show it. Just not always as much or in the ways I need him to show me. 

John, if you read this, I hope you know how much I love you, and how happy I am that you are willing to try and step out of your comfort zone. I know it's scary, but it means a lot to me. 

Confession..............

Hello, friends and readers. I'm sorry I've been MIA for a few weeks. It's been a little crazy around here. The girls went to a half day, week long summer camp AND our household goods shipment FINALLY arrived. Keep in mind, I'm doing this without the physical help of my husband. 

This post is going to be short and sweet, for a few reasons. One, I'm exhausted and really don't have much to talk about since my life has been consumed by mountains of boxes. And two, I'm embarrassed, but have to admit something to you all, in hopes of holding myself accountable. 

So, lets go back to my household items arriving. On the evening that they arrived, I was frantically opening boxes, searching for my youngest daughters teddy bear...that I never found. While opening said boxes, I came across my scale. I ignored it, because like I said, I was looking for something special. 

Fast forward to the next day. I was unpacking my daughters' closet, when unbeknownst to me, the scale was one of their boxes. I know I saw it the day before, but I didn't remember or chose to forget the placement of said scale. 

I take the scale out, and set it aside, and finish unpacking clothes, hanging them, etc. But after a disagreement over email with my husband, and me feeling overwhelmed, I walked over to the scale and..............I stepped on it. 

I.WEIGHED.MYSELF.

I stood there, staring at the number. It had gone down from the last time that I had stepped on a scale. Which is good, because it had been 71 days since doing so. But it wasn't a fantastic number, nor did it equal how great I was feeling about myself. I didn't freak out or anything. Nor did I weigh myself again.

Later that night, I made the confession to my husband, and I felt horribly guilty and disappointed in myself. It was then that I realized, I am an emotional cutter. Instead of cutting away at my physical body, I cut away at my self esteem and worth.

I'm Nicole, and I'm an emotional cutter, and it's been 2 days since I stepped on the scale. 

Here's to resisting the urge.........

How do you measure????

So, over this last week I've been counting my calories. Normally this could be a very dangerous thing for me, if I were also weighing myself. But, since I'm not, I figured, why not?

So I signed up for a little app where you put your daily food totals in, and then it tallies it all up for you. Easy enough, right? 

Well here's my pickle.....how do I know if counting calories is really working if I can't step on the scale? Should I do measurements? If so, how often? Or should I just go by how I feel and how my clothes feel? 

I'm a few days into this calorie counting, and I must confess, I'm starting to stress a bit! I mean, I'm eating healthy and within the range of calories I'm allowed. I'm not depriving myself of cravings, so that I can prevent binge eating. This is also helping with those twinges of emotional eating I've been getting (I miss my man, ya'll). So, why am I stressing?

Here's my question to my readers....the few I have.....how do you measure your weight loss? By scale? Tape measure? The way your pants feel? The way you feel? 

Thanks for reading, and here's to more soul searching!

Don't forget to leave me comments to my questions :)

Your mind is a funny thing

First off, I want to thank everyone who's been reading my blog and those who have decided to follow me. It means a lot to me! 

Secondly, I wanted to apologize for not updating for a few days. We were getting my husband ready for a TDY, plus our unaccompanied shipment AND car arrived! Great, but busy times! 

So....remember my previous post about emotional eating? If you took my quiz thank you! If not, you better participate next time ;). Anyway.....I found myself in another potential emotional eating trap. There I was, dropping my husband off....not for a deployment, thank goodness.....the kids are crying, I'm choking back tears, and of course every sappy, sad song comes on the radio. And um, on every.single.programmed.channel.....really people?!?!?! I felt the strong...and I mean STRONG....urge to stop at Krispy Kreme and get a few dozen donuts to 'make' myself feel better. BUT............I didn't!!!!!!!  

Now, I wish I had some sort of wonderous explanation for this mild breakthrough, but I don't. I just simply thought...."Is this going to make me feel better in the long run?". And my answer was a very loud "NO!". So I made the choice to take the girls to our local Super Wal-Mart, where we stocked up on healthy foods for our first prepared dinner in our new home. We also stocked up on healthy snacks. BUT, as I was browsing the aisles, my nose picked up on the unmistaken smell of McDonald's. Low and behold, this Super Wal-Mart, where I was confronting my issues, was tempting me yet again. Surprisingly, I walked away from the greasy, processed goodness. 

So, folks, that's TWICE today that I did not give in to my 'need' to emotional eat. 

Nicole-1 Emotional baggage-0

If you're reading, John, I love and miss you. And I know you're going to do great! xoxoxo

Appreciation.....or lack of it

For those that don't know, I am an Army spouse. I don't really like to use the term "Army Wife", because well, I feel like it gets a bad rap. Or people think I'm like one of those characters on the T.V. show 'Army Wives'. Which, to be clear, is really nothing like what Army "Wives" are like. 

As most of my friends are Army spouses, they can probably relate to how a PCS (permanent change of station....i.e. moving AGAIN) feels. If they are like me, they take on the lead role of well, everything. Being in charge of everything and everyone is very stressful. And, if I'm being honest, can leave one feeling a bit unappreciated. Which is how I am feeling today. Now, this could really be the case, or I could be suffering from a mild (or severe if you ask my husband) form of PMS. Or it could be a little of both....I'm leaning toward this option. Regardless, I'm feeling stressed, tired, hormonal, and unappreciated. Which in the end, makes for a very grumpy Nicole. 

What might this all have to do with weight loss? Let me tell you. I have eaten my share, my two daughters shares, and probably 1 or 2 more peoples shares of teeny, tiny, "snack" size candy bars in the last 2 days. This is not good, folks. Not good at all. 

As I have vowed to be honest while writing this blog, I must confess......I'm an emotional eater. It's terrible. I feel sad, mad, happy, anxious, or stressed....and I eat. I eat bad food. Mostly chocolate and/or baked goods. The really bad part is, it doesn't make me feel any better afterwards. In fact, I feel like shit, if I'm being honest. I feel bad because I ate bad food. Then I feel bad for feeling bad. Then I feel bad because I've let myself down. It's a horrible vicious thing. I know it's wrong and that I shouldn't do it. But alas, I still do it.

So, back to appreciation, or the lack of it. This PCS has been a stressful one, and has left me feeling utterly unappreciated. Therefore, leading to me be my emotional eating self. 

With this post, I want to try something a little different. I want to see what you, my readers think.

I want to know...am I the only emotional eater out there???

It all started 6 weeks ago............

6 weeks ago, our belongings were being packed up, to be shipped from our home in Germany to our new home in El Paso, Texas. At this time, my best friend and worst enemy was packed away. The scale. For years, I've had a love hate relationship with said scale. Well, really any scale for that matter. I loved when it told me I was losing weight. I hated when it told me I had gained. In return, I hated myself. 

The sad, ugly truth is, I put my whole selves worth in that number. For years, that number defined who I was. The fact that I was a mother, a wife, or a friend didn't matter. I let that number define me.

So, when my scale was packed in a box, and then a crate, and then sent on it's way across the pond, I no longer could rely on it to ruin my day. I had to find new ways to make myself miserable. Or in this case, happy, self confident, and sane! 

You see, not having a scale to step on after every pee, poo, cough, look in the mirror, or random thought made things easier. Less stressful. I found myself more carefree. And you know what's even better? My pants started to get a wee bit looser. Or maybe it was the weight coming off my shoulders. Either way, I feel lighter and brighter. 

So, back to the point of this whole blog. I've been reading a book called Mirror, Mirror Off the Wall. It's about a woman, a recovering anorexic and sociologist, who decided to not look at herself in any mirror for a year. In hopes of improving her self image. And it gave me this idea. Of not weighing myself or knowing my weight (if say, at the doctors office, for instance) for an entire year (or possibly my whole life). I will only measure myself based on how my clothes fit and how I feel. I figure, what the heck, I've already done 6 weeks, what's a few more, right?

So, this is the unofficial start of my journey. I hope you all follow along for support and can possibly find some sort of inspiration in the process. 

In closing, I want to give a special shout out to my wonderful and supportive husband. My daughters. And to my good friend Sarah Brown for believing in me and being my inspiration.