Alrighty, time for some updates
- the move was a disaster that we made work. Day 1) pack up a massive Uhaul, clean the rental we were living in, get ready to leave
Day 2) Get up at 0300 to drive the Uhaul and my wifeās car to the closing at my new duty station. We get there, close, life is looking good. Go to the house, previous tenants havenāt moved out. Their movers canceled on them, so they took their valuables and planned to leave almost everything else. SO, this turned into me forcefully suggesting they get a Uhaul, at which point I packed up their house for them. Some notable feats include one man carrying both a full size fridge, and a medium sized gun safe. In case anyone was wondering, weighted front carrys are hands down the most practical lift you can ever do. Finish loading them up at 9, begin unloading all 13,000lbs of my Uhaul. Finish that around 2 AM
Day 3) we were supposed to sleep after day 2, then get up early, drive back to Charleston to help our roommate move out, grab my truck and then head back to VA for the final time. By the time we finished unpacking the Uhaul on day 2, we donāt really have time to sleep. So, we hop in the car, my wife goes to bed, and I drive us back to Charleston. We move our old roommate into her new apartment because she just had surgery and couldnāt do it herself, then I grabbed a trailer for the last remaining stuff from my house, and go to pack it up. As Iām backing up the trailer into my driveway, my right front tire blows. I mean just popped like a freaking balloon, car fell hard onto the rims, thankfully no damage. So, change the tire, pop on my spare, keep moving forward. We finish with everything we need to do around 11pm of day 3. I havenāt slept since the 4 hours of sleep I got at the end of day 1. And we need to make it to Virginia.
Day 4) running off of caffeine, nicotine, and rage, drive overnight on day 4, make it to VA by 8 am. Promptly fall asleep for 14 hours.
Day 5-now) The previous tenants left this home an absolute mess. Just filthy, layers of grime, not taken care off. We found out from the neighbors that they sold this place due to the wifeās numerous affairs, husband left a few months ago, so I think she just stopped caring at all once we signed. Spent 2 days or so just legit scrubbing the place down to make it livable, because we didnāt want to unpack until then. After that came some home Reno. My dad came up to help out. Repainted all the walls, built up my gym, fixed a lot of little repairs that Iām low key pissed werenāt on the inspection report, did some electrical work, replaced fixtures, etc. we still have a lot more we want to do, but we finally got in a good spot to just step back and take a breath. The house is looking really good. We do love the home, just a shame that the old owners took such crappy care of it, but nothing we canāt fix up. I start work on the 26th, so I still have a good chunk of time to make this place into a good home.
Gym pic:
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training wise I have done nothing, except move all my shit 3 times, my roommates shit once, and the previous owners shit once, which is really an annoying amount to have to move around seeing as I shouldnāt have to do anymore than pack and unpack my own things, but such is life. Definitely felt good to be as strong as I am, may not be much by some standards, but at least I can move the house.
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diets been a mix of uncle Benās rice, canned chicken, quest bars, PBR and frozen pizzas. My old man likes PBR, and Iām not about to drink water with him when he drove 8 hours to help me fix up my new house. No idea what weight is, but I feel good.
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funny anecdote, but Iāve been full on āgoā for about 10 days straight, and itās driving my wife nuts. She appreciates that Iām able to get things done, but she doesnāt like how Iām running around so much. Well, I had grilled some chicken breast, and I was walking around carrying a moving box in one hand while just eating grilled chicken in the other like itās a snickers, and she just lost it laughing. Apparently that is not an appropriate way to have lunch. I thought it worked.
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big backyard in the new house, my dogs love it. Neighbors seem friendly too, happy about that. My wife also got a promotion when she transferred up here. Not sure if I mentioned that or not, but she is crushing her career. Making good money, which is good because her grad school is expensive lol.
@T3hPwnisher @boilerman @simo74 @SvenG @throwawayfitness @SkyzykS @tlgains @raven78 you guys donāt need to read the mess above, but I would like all you who followed me all this time to hear this.
And now, I think I need to reflect for a minute. I moved to Charleston at a pretty rough point in my life. I had just spent 18.5 of the last 21 months at sea, with only 1 port call in that time. I went probably 7 months without ever getting a full 6 hours of sleep. I had seen literally over 2 dozen of my crew be sent off the ship due to suicide attempts or other mental health issues, and I had personally lost a sailor to suicide. My own mental health was garbage. I was a good officer to my men. It meant a lot to me, I knew that our command was in a bad spot, that morale was low, and they needed me to just be that rock, and I can look back with pride and say that I absolutely was. That being said, the toll it took on me to keep it up in the midst of all my ship was going through really did some damage. My health had gone to hell, my wife was a distant figure I only knew in emails, I felt cynical and unconfident. It was tough for me. I have always been a high performer. I donāt mean that to sound arrogant, but I have. 35 ACT, 4.0 in high school, multi-sport varsity athlete, 2 sport collegiate athlete, won multiple academic and leadership awards at my college, I have always done well enough that I felt like I could handle whatever life through at me. Until that last deployment. When I came back from that, and moved to Charleston, itās the first time life had hit me hard enough that I didnāt believe in myself.
This last year has been a year of healing and growth for me. Anyone who knows me well, knows that this is an uncharacteristic thing for me to say. I am not a very emotional person, Iām certainly not good at any type of emotional vulnerability, and I generally stick to more of a āman upā approach to problems. But sometimes, that just doesnāt work, and it didnāt for me. I had to build myself back up, and I did. Day by day, week by week, I found myself again. Look, I dropped 80lbs, went from a 12 min mile to mid 7s, 0 pull-ups to 13, lots of strength gains, I got in shape. Not the best shape of my life, but not the worst either. And that felt great. That control over my life, that process of putting in sweat and suffering and seeing positive growth from that, was nothing short of cathartic. As I worked, other aspects of my life came back to. I was able to flirt with my wife again, to be funny and goofy instead of just solemn and quiet. At work, I excelled at a field I honestly didnāt know if I would do well in, and my confidence grew the longer and longer I was there. By about the 6 month mark, I can honestly say that I was a leader amongst my peers. I was the loud, boisterous one that everyone went to when they were having a hard time. I became āthat guyā again, the one who could handle whatever problem came up, the one who would cheer you up on a bad day, or help you pass whatever evolution had you sweating. I was top 10% final standing in the training pipeline by the end of this, which as a political science major who got drafted into nuclear engineering, im damn proud of. I feel like myself again. I feel strong, I feel proud, I feel capable. Iām ready to get to my new ship and meet my men, Iām ready to sail wherever the Navy takes me, to raise whatever hell I can and better myself along the way.
Iām back. God dammit, I am back. Letās get to work.
