I have lived in Fallon since September and have come to hate it here.

When my husband was first given orders to Fallon I had misgivings. I knew I’d have to travel to Reno a lot for medical care.

When we first got here. We unpacked and my husband left for school. I was left to get to know Fallon by myself.

I’ve felt so isolated. It wasn’t just about living in small town, being in an isolated duty station. But the people who live in Fallon.

In Fallon 411 on Facebook someone posted a pit bull got onto her property and that she scared the dog off. That owners needed to take care of their animals. And said next time she’d shoot the dog.

I commented how my husky likes to escape. That is what huskies do. And that he’s friendly. He likes to visit the neighbors horses. And maybe that dog was being friendly and she didn’t realize it.

Wow a second person. There were more than that. Several people stated that they would shoot the dog. Any dog if they got on their property.

It’s actually legal here in Fallon that if a dog enters your property and scares your animals you can shoot them. Fallon is a rural farming community.

Sure people have the right to protect their livestock.

But I’ve also seen so many dogs getting loose here. I’ve seen posts of found dogs, missing dogs, and posts of I passed a dog that got ran over. I’ve seen people post they are looking for their dog.

Glenda Sorensen Dockery owns a lot of Fallon Facebook groups. She is the admin and runs them.

Now while I agree people need to be responsible for their pets. I don’t agree about just shooting to kill them. There are other ways. How about you build a fence so dogs and coyotes don’t get in. Coyotes are a problem here.

I messaged this woman and told her my husband and I just moved here. I was a military spouse. And that I had PTSD. That I didn’t appreciate the posting of killing dogs and she should remove it.

I blocked her from messaging me after a while. I can post our whole conversation. But her response to me blocking her…

Yes please tell everyone the type of person I am. I’m the type of person who cares if dogs are killed. I’m the type of person who cares if her dogs get killed.

I use Koda as an emotional support animal. I do not take him places with me. But he knows when a PTSD flare up is about to start and will lay on a leg, so I know to take medicine. I’ve had an episode where I fell and hurt myself, knocked myself unconscious. He broke out of his crate and began licking me. He laid with me until I woke up. I couldn’t get up on my own and he helped me sit up.

I haven’t registered him as a service dog. I haven’t registered him as an emotional support animal. I haven’t taken him to the courses to be qualified to be an emotional support animal. And we can’t afford a service dog. It’s why we got Koda as a puppy and taught him how to do things.

This woman decided to make fun of me and blast me. I can’t view what she said about me, again she runs so many groups.

I was on the fence about living here and now I know I can’t. I can’t live in a place this isolated and small. I can’t live with the way small towns work.

My husband and I have talked about geobatching, where basically he’d live here and I’d go some place where I felt more comfortable, some place safe. Also he hasn’t re-enlist yet, he could always get out.

Now I grew up in a small town. I grew up in the country where everyone knew everyone’s business. But some of the hatred I’ve seen come out of some of the people that live here I can’t blame small town living.

My husband is against me posting this but he understands why. I’ve spent all day crying and being overwhelmed. I’ve relied on what I call my “tic tacs” to calm down. The enjoyment of having PTSD.

I will be asking Fleet and Family for help and hope to hear some options. But living here in this isolated duty station had become too much for me to bear.

In our household we are experiencing the stomach flu. Okay maybe not Koda but he’s cuddling with us.

I awoke at 3 am with what I could only describe as dementors Harry Potter sucking out the contents of my stomach.

I was kind and didn’t wake my husband up until 5 am. And a few hours later he began experiment the joys of the stomach flu.

Let’s just say I’m glad we have two bathrooms. So there was no issues over fighting for the bathroom.

Yesterday I wasn’t feeling to good. A cat was apparently around me. So I had puffy eyes. Yes allergies to cats suck.

I can’t take any allergy medicine because I go in to get allergy tested soon. I would love to swallow a hole box of Sudafed. Okay not really 1 would do lol.

I had a lovely friend join me in the bathroom as I reached the edge towards death.

Brutus who we also call Doby come on look at that face. He would lay his head in my lap. I felt a pic of that wasn’t necessary. So enjoy him smiling by my bed side.

It was truly nice having a furry support person as I was sick.

Currently my face looks like this. Tears streaming down. My body in so much pain. Wishing someone would deliver some Gatorade.

It is hard having us both sick. As I’ve already told my husband have fun with the life insurance policy it truly sucks having the stomach flu. He couldn’t enjoy my wicked humor and he told me to shut up it was with love.

We have declared our bed home base for the day.

Hate being sick.

I’ve already celebrated Channukah.

Happy Holidays everyone.

I got woken up by the husky whine. Which happens a lot. Honestly if I wake up before he wakes me up he looks at me weird.

But sadly he was sick …

I text my husband he’s sick. And then I send him this picture.

He said “Thank goodness for a moment I thought you sent a poop pic”. Yeah honey I can’t wait for you to get home to clean out the crate when one of the dogs get sick.

Every have one of those mornings where you just pick up the sugar container and pour it into your coffee.

That was my morning.

Okay so my sugar container was in the dish washer. Did I want to empty the dishwasher that early, no lol.

Rough mornings are bad.

I was super happy, counting down the days happy, that I would be leaving to visit my husband.

That the visit was around our anniversary.

Being the loving wife I am I packed my car with car parts. Sigh yes the husband needed them.

Excited as I saw the first sign for San Diego. As my car was having issues I couldn’t go faster than 50 mph.

And then I got to see my husband. So happy.  On our anniversary we went to La Jolla.

I’m a beach girl. I love the beach. I love my toes in the sand.

Love walking along the beach. It was a comfortable day.

Went out to cool places to eat.

I was super happy to be in San Diego… and then.

I came home to snow…

My pups were excited for me to pick them up.

And I went back to knitting wishing I was at the beach (double knitted hat for Nick).

I did have an amazing view from the hotel (yes kidding it’s the gas station on base haha).

Had so much fun. Surfers, food, my husband!!!  Yes my husband. To hold him again and to sleep with him again. And how he’d cover me before he left for work. Ahh the little things.

Having your husband being assigned to an isolated duty station you worry about many things. But coming and finding at least a Walmart within 15 minutes of your house is nice.

Until you need something.

Hannukah is around the corner and I need Menorah candles. So I went to Walmart. I walked down aisle after aisle. I then found an associate, someone who works there.

I asked her if there was a Hanukkah section. She said sorry Walmart only carries Christmas items. Then she asked what is Hanukkah.

I said that I am Jewish and we celebrate Hanukkah instead of Christmas. I explained what a menorah was and that I needed candles to put in the menorah.

She apologized for not knowing. Said she thought she knew a spot. And took me to incense.

That felt like a slap in my face.

There were only a handful of places I could guess in Fallon that would have menorah candles. And I would have thought Walmart would have them. Just a note last year I got them at Target.

Target isn’t in Fallon. Isn’t even in Fernley. I’d have to drive an hour to either Reno or Carson City to get Menorah candles.

I tweeted Walmart and they said to ask my local Walmart to carry Menorahs. I don’t need a menorah. I need the candles to celebrate the holiday.

I felt Walmart shoving Christianity down my throat.

Why do I say that? Several people outside wishing Merry Christmas asking for donations. And Christmas things for sale. But any other religion is left out.

I am disappointed.

Do you happen to have a 1987 VW Cabriolet and need to change your alternator? Well you came to the right spot!!

Previously I wrote how to replace the fuel pump and I promised to write this post. Because after I changed out the fuel pump I changed out the alternator. And I had a hard time finding information online.

First, disconnect the battery. You don’t want to be shocked. I’ve taken 12 volts before it isn’t a nice feeling.

Then go over to your alternator. See where my finger is

I used an adjustable wrench, but you want to adjust the alternator so it shifts down. You are doing this to loosen the belt so you can remove it. There are 2 parts of the bolt I am pointing to. 1, the smaller one, is to remove the bolt. The second is the larger one and it moves it up and down the grated teeth so you can adjust the belt. I cranked it a few times so I could slip the belt off. I also went ahead and removed the bolt. I then removed the bolt at the other end of the bar to remove the bar. I wanted more room.

You can see the bar here

Now there is the part where I got stuck. I got this far without looking up how to remove the alternator. Cause I thought hey girl you so awesomely changed out the fuel pump on your own you can do this.

But see this…

I wasn’t expecting after dealing with 1/2″ that they would throw in a 6mm allen. I was screaming at German technology at this point. This was the 1 thing holding me back from removing the alternator.

Oh the main bolt is here where my finger is

Ensure that you disconnect the alternator of it’s wiring before you remove it.
And tada you’ve removed your alternator.

Now I called the auto part store and had them order me a new one. I read off the numbers from my old one to order the correct part. I then went to the auto part store and they switched out the pulley for me. This saved me money on the core and honestly I couldn’t have removed the pulley and put it on the new one myself.

I then went home and began tackling installing the alternator. The first thing I did was reattach the 6mm bolt. Since this is the base bolt it’s the bolt that holds in the alternator in place, you know so you don’t leave it on the road as you’re driving. I then reattached the bar. And then went to wire the alternator, and that is when I realized I had a problem.

The new alternator had different connections than the previous one. I had to rewire the exciter wire. Basically the ending needed to be changed from the circle ending to a female ending. My husband is an Electronic Engineer in the Navy and happens to be very techy. So he had the parts for me to do this. I snipped the circle off and then clamped the female on. I also happened to have shrink wrap that I had slid on before I clamped the new piece on.

I then slid on the belt. And adjusted the alternator so that the belt was tightened. Go through and ensure all of the bolts are tightened. Replace that negative wire back on. Start you’re car and you’re good to go.

Unless you’re me. Then you find out that the fuel relay needs to be replaced. Had to order a new one and wait a day. I also purchased a battery jumper because I found myself with a dead battery. The battery jumper allowed me to start my car without having to call someone. And where we live it takes a bit for anyone to come and help out.

I hope this was helpful to you. As I said I had a hard time finding information on this. This wasn’t my first time doing car repair but I do like to leave it up to my husband.

I have 1 more post in the works for my 1987 VW Cabriolet in the works.

The thing about PTSD is well…

Did you know that?

And…

I have PTSD. I wish I could describe to you what it’s like having PTSD. By that I mean I wish I could generalize it. I wish it fell under an umbrella. Kinda like other disorders. But PTSD doesn’t.

Each person that has PTSD doesn’t follow some text book definition of it.

Shaking is a huge part of my PTSD. When a trigger, flashback, or hey it just felt like it occurs I shake. I actually shake so bad that I wonder if I have Parkinson. But I don’t have Parkinson. I have PTSD.

When I experienced the trauma that caused my PTSD doctors said that the trauma was enough to cause myelin damage. Damage to my nervous system.

It was hard for me to walk, hard for me to talk, I couldn’t hold my head still. I shook that bad. I couldn’t stop it. Well I tried and the pain was so great. People would stare. One person said I looked like a bobble head. Hey I never forgot, it has stayed with me.

Some days I can’t get out of bed. Not that I don’t want to. I’m afraid to get out of bed. I’m shaking so bad I’m afraid I’ll fall. And I know I will. I’ve tried to get out of bed before while shaking and I hit the ground. I’m stuck there for a while.

It’s scary. I’m alone. I’m afraid. And I’m on the ground shaking. And I just have to wait for it to pass.

Someone once told me to just get over it. Well you wouldn’t say that to someone with cancer. “Hey buddy I get you have cancer but just get over it”.

I’ve tried to think of the worst things I’ve been told.
1. Are you sure you’re on the right medicine?
-When we PCS and I had to get a new psychiatrist I was asked what meds I was on and if they worked. And my psychiatrist (you know the person that went to medical school) said he didn’t want to touch my medicines. I was fine. And it’s hard for someone who has PTSD to be regulated with medicine.
2. Just shake it off.
– yes I too enjoy Taylor Swifts song but I can’t shake it off. It isn’t a mole that I can go in and have removed. I can’t just shake it off. I wish I could.
3. I wish you were the person you were before…
-that one hurts. I can’t apologize for changing cause I didn’t purposely do it. I’m reacting to something that was done to me.
4. Yesterday you were fine
-a lot of things happened yesterday. And a lot of things will happen today, even more tomorrow. Did it make you uncomfortable to witness a flashback or trigger? Think how it makes me feel.

I’m trying to be strong. I’m trying to fight this. I need you to respect that. I need you to respect me.

I have PTSD. I’m not a victim. I’m a survivor.

This song by Beyonce popped in my head while I was doing this.

A piece of my car broke and my husband ordered the part. Problem was he was leaving for C School and wouldn’t be here to fix it. He told me how to put the part on and told me it would be easy my husband lies.

This is the piece of my car that broke. I couldn’t even tell you what it’s called. But without it I can’t shift, so I can’t drive the car. Well… I could but you know what I mean.

My husband pointed out the two places I clip this part to. He told me it was easy. You just clip it on then you’re done.

Okay so maybe he told me to take a few things off. But my hands are tiny so I just slipped them in. But was the part easy to clip on, no… it’s why I said my husband lies. I actually texted him this photo and told him I hated him. His response was grease was good for my skin… men.

The left side was pretty easy to clip on. But that right side wanted to fight with me. I actually took the part out of the car and threw it on the ground. Cause yeah that made me feel better.

I went and got a large adjustable wrench. I clipped on the left side and then used the wrench to press down the right side so it would clip. And I just kept thinking the whole time… If I was a boy would I be having this much issue. Actually was it just my messed up shoulder making it not easy to clip this piece on.

Luckily I got the leverage I needed and clipped it on. Drove the car around and first gear is iffy, but I’ll let my husband fix that.

But you know what? I’m not a boy. I’m glad I’m not a boy. And I got this part on NOT being a boy. I’m a girl. A girl put this part on. A girl that barely knows anything about cars and HATES getting grease on her. A girl with phobias who blindly put her hand into her car so she could drive it.

I love my car. I don’t like how messy it sometimes makes me. But I love my car. And I love being a girl.