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Consequences - Part Two

Written on 12/1/17

On November 17th, I stayed a little late after work like I always do. A whole group of us usually go up the road to have a beer, and talk about the week we had. While I was driving home I noticed that I had a missed call from my husband at about 5:30 pm which I hadn’t heard because my phone was on silent. By the time I picked up my daughter, and pulled into our drive way it was already 6 pm. So, I tried returning his call before we even set foot inside the house, but it went straight to voicemail. As I walked up the side of our house I realized his car was not where he usually parks it so I assumed the earlier call had been to let me know he was going out. I left it at that because I knew that he’d find a way to call me if he needed something, or if what he needed to tell me was urgent.

After getting our little to bed, and putting up the laundry I decided to open up a bottle of wine, and have a glass. It had been a gift from the company earlier that afternoon so I figured I’d pop in a movie, and have a taste. While pouring my glass I noticed that it was already after 8 pm, and I still had not heard back from my husband. I got this weird feeling in my stomach, and I remember whispering “Please just let him get home safely.” Of course, this scenario and this kind of worry is not uncommon for me. If y’all only knew. So, I began the normal routine of trying to find out where he was. I tried calling his phone again, but it was still off. So, I sent a quick message to a friend asking if they had heard from him recently, and they said that they hadn’t. And this is when my anxiety started to kick in. Overthinking, and worst-case scenarios began to play in my mind. I tried my best to push all of the irrational thoughts out of my head because that does no one any good. And just to answer the obvious unspoken question: Yes, even with everything going on I still worry about him. I always want to make sure that he’s okay. That he’s safe. And that he’s not in some ditch somewhere, or worse. So I kept watching the door, and turned the volume on the TV down low, half expecting to hear that damn stereo system thumping a block away. I was so ready to give him an earful about how much worry, and anxiety he had caused me. To say “Next time call me from your friend’s phone so I know you’re OKAY!” But none of that happened.

After the longest forty-five minutes of my life I received a call from the sheriff’s office informing me that my husband had been arrested. They allowed me to talk to him, and he told me to speak with the bail bondsmen in the morning. After the relief washed over me - he wasn’t dead - I became really angry. “What the hell happened? What did you get arrested for? Was anyone with you? Why the hell couldn’t you wait until I got home before heading off?!” There was a string of “I’m sorry. I don’t know. I don’t know. They won’t tell me anything. Just call the bondsmen tomorrow….” and then the line went silent. I was redirected to an officer who informed me that they couldn’t tell me much, but they did give me some numbers to call the following morning. And it has been a very uneasy, and uncertain time ever since. From finding out the charges, to finding out how much it would cost to get him out, and then finally talking with a lawyer about what to do. There are times when I’ve cried, and felt pretty damn helpless. I’ve felt guilt over not coming home right away that evening. I've been angry over what he did to get himself arrested. But the hardest part was having to tell our daughter that her dad wasn’t going to be home for a while. I almost broke down as she clung to me, and offered to give me her piggy bank money if it would help get her daddy out. Though I know that this is not my fault, and I know that this was bound to happen at some point due to the choices he was making. It still sucks. I still feel some responsibility, and I hate seeing him in there.

Now this is a small town. So small in fact, that someone runs an “In the Jail House Now” page which takes the previous days arrests, and then posts their mugshots all over Facebook. The Saturday after his arrest my phone was going off continuously. People were asking if I was okay? If our daughter was safe? Had she been taken away? Was I in trouble? They asked if I had seen the posts on all of the local groups. And when I finally got the nerve to look it up, at the reactions, I saw something that I didn’t like. Posted by a certain someone who had no business talking. And the anger just kicked in all over again. At him for doing something so stupid, and reckless. At her for even thinking that she had a right to laugh after all she had done. At myself for even giving a fuck about what was published online. And the truth is, that I don’t care what people think about me. Or what they say about me; about my relationship. I don’t care because they will never know the truth behind our closed doors. They don’t know the struggles, and demons my husband has fought over the years. Some that he’s won, and some that have sadly taken over. But what I do care about, fiercely, is our daughter. When it came time to explain to her what was going on I left a lot of details out. I only let her know that her father made a few mistakes that he was having to take responsibility for by staying in jail for a little while. But that doesn’t mean that she won’t hear other things from someone else. So yes, I care. I care about how she’ll get treated for this at school. About how little ears hear nasty things from adults, and then they get repeated on the playground to my daughter. It’s happened before on several occasions. I care about how much she misses her dad, and how she feels about this whole situation. And I think the fact that this is all even happening, that she has to experience this at all, is what both angers and saddens me the most.

For now, all I can do is try my best to stay positive and adjust to what’s going on around me. Because the truth is that my husband will miss Christmas, and more than likely our daughter’s birthday next year. The truth is that he is the only person responsible for what’s happening to him. And even though all of this really sucks it was probably the best thing for him in the long run. And even though my husband will become my ex-husband in a little over a month there are very few people who are in his corner at the moment. Even fewer who are able to help come up with the funds to hire a lawyer, and get him out in a few months. But I intended to be one of them. I intended to do what I can. To be there for him in whatever capacity that I can.

Wordless(ish) Wednesday

This picture is a little over a year old. My skin is worse now, and he's lost a good amount of weight. But this night was a good one. And I miss these days.

Consequences - Part One

Written on 11/10/17

How to start this off. Well, first let me just warn you that this will probably be a long post. I will ramble along in order to try, and find the words for what has been going on lately. Some might find the news a bit confusing, expected, untraditional, or just plain weird. However, I figured it was probably time that I share…

On October 23rd, after two months of talking with my husband & witnessing several things, I retained a lawyer. On the 27th a divorce petition was filed. I could tell you that this was the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make, but that would be an understatement. In some ways, this was worse than the last time. Much worse. I cried at the lawyer’s office. I cried in the bathroom at work. I cried at the grocery store. I cried as I ran on the treadmill in the middle of my gym. And I’ve cried myself to sleep on countless nights since. For the most part I’ve felt this numbness. It’s mixed in with a broken heart, and feelings of defeat; dejectedness. I’m pretty sure this is causing my depression to get worse too. So, the past month has been hard; sad, lonely. Unfortunately, this is happening because it was the only option I had left. I had exhausted everything else. I had drawn, and redrawn lines. There was compromises, and forgiveness. And yet there was still a lot of other stuff simmering beneath the surface. So, in the end, I knew that this was the right thing to do.

At first my husband was angry. I’m assuming that this was because I had actually gone through with it. We'd talked about it a lot in the months prior to me retaining a lawyer. Though, I think we both thought it was just that... "talks". Never had I ever imagined being the one to pull the trigger on this decision. And yet, here we are. Once he accepted that we were moving in this direction there were apologies and voiced regrets. From both of us. And if my heart hadn’t already been broken it would have cracked—shattered at his words. However, it all comes down to choices. Consequences. Drug addiction has played a part in this. Infidelity has played a part in this. All of the recurrences I was warned about. All of the habits I was told would come back... did. But I chose to ignore them. Until I couldn’t anymore. My own stubbornness played a part in this. My own fear of failure played a part in this. My want of love from him was causing my own heartbreak. Because I wanted it so damn badly that I chose to look away from what was happening. Until I couldn’t anymore.

But if you want honesty, I’d say that I still love my husband. So damn much. He is the person I think of when I want to tell someone about my day. When I need to laugh, cry, or just be heard. When I want to be held in silence, he's the person I look for. When I have this urge to just lay down in bed as the sound of rain comes through the window I want him to be the person laying next to me. Or when our daughter does something funny I instantly want to share it with him. Our lives have been intertwined since I was 15. My first adventures away from home, life—the good & bad-- that I have led, and my daughter are all with him. Because of him. Knowing right now, in this very moment, that in a few months we are no longer going to be married is causing me to have knots in my stomach. I feel empty...hurt. And honestly, if it were just the two of us, I wouldn’t be sitting here telling you this news. God, if it were just the two of us, I would look the other way as long as he came home to me every night. Not sure what that says about me in the end. But I would have overlooked it all. I would grin, and bear it as long as he kept loving me. In whatever capacity he was capable of. But it’s not, and I can’t.

I wish things were different. I wish that I could erase the bad shit. I wish that we were strong enough to find a way around all of this. I wish we could go back to the days when love conquered all. When it was enough. But there comes a point in life, when in situations like mine, that you have to ask yourself if you’re okay. If you’re truly fine with what’s happening to your family? If the turbulent home life you’re offering is the best that you can do for your child? For yourself? For your spouse? Regardless of who’s causing the conflict. You have to ask yourself if the path you’re currently on is a healthy one? Are you really able to look at yourself in the mirror, and be okay with what you’re allowing? If the answers are “YES” then keep going. Keep fighting for it. And if you can look your child in the eyes in that very same moment, and tell them with complete honesty that this is the best you can do for them then by all means keep going. But if it’s not? If you’re breaking your own heart, over and over again, then stop. If you know deep down inside of yourself that continuing will only make things worse, then make the choice to do better. However messy, and hard it may be...do what's right for yourself. For your family.

So, for the sake of our daughter we’ve decided to go through this amicably. Reluctantly, but peacefully. We’ve also talked to her about all of this. We’ve had discussions about what divorce will mean for us. How it will affect us as a family. And so far, she’s okay. As soon as I knew that we’d be taking this step I spoke with her teacher, and requested that she start seeing the school counselor once every other week or if they noticed a change in her behavior. This has, surprisingly, been the easiest part out of this whole situation because I feel that neither of us really wanted this outcome. But it is what we need. There is still love here. So that’s where we are at right now. It’s a bit awkward. Not everyone knows how to react when we tell them. Hell, half the time I’m still really confused by it all. But all I can do is try my hardest to get through it. For myself. For my daughter. And for whatever is yet to come. 

📷:Rupi Kaur poetry, click on picture for credit