MY road of life.

I married young, I was 19. I was sure it was the next stop on MY road of life map and no it wasn’t because I was pregnant! I just thought that’s what people did… You grow up, go to school or get a job, fall in love, and then next was marriage. After all that you can buy a home and add some offspring (optional, of course and totally at your own risk).

You follow YOUR LIFE down whatever road you see fit, the scenery will differ a little with each turn and so will the stops you chose to take alongside the way.

                                THAT'S THE BEAUTY OF LIFE...

No roads are meant to be the same. Some smooth roads have a sudden little bump, requiring the need to purchase a child safety seat, “surprise!” that’s perfectly okay. Most of us will eventually run into a "CONSTRUCTION ZONE", unaware the road even needed to be maintained, "SLOW DOWN" and "PROCEED WITH CAUTION", and again be on your way. Some roads are blocked or closed, "DETOUR AHEAD". Take the detour, it might take a little longer then planned, but you will still be able to reach your destination. If the road you're traveling is at a "DEAD END" or maybe “ NOT A THRU STREET”, well its time to make a turn in whatever direction you feel the need.

I was done with beauty school, had my license and was beginning my career in the hair industry. I was lucky enough to have landed my first gig as a stylist working beside a talented, inspiring friend. She also, for years had been my one and only hairstylist. She was full of knowledge, never annoyed by questions, and when in need of a hands on example, she always found a minute to spare.

I had wanted to be a hairstylist since the 6th grade, so when given the opportunity, I was more than willing to start beauty school right away, I didn’t even have to worry about working a summer job or saving to move away. Within weeks of graduation, life long church friends had graciously offered a room in their home to me. Everything just fell perfectly into place. They were practically family and more then willing to house and feed me for next to nothing. I moved, enrolled, and I was a full time beauty school student promising myself to make straight A’s. Time flew by in a flash. Less then a year later, 1600 hours clocked on my student badge, leaving beauty school with all those A’s (I’m proud to say I actually had a 101% and was one of the first students to complete my hours on my contracted graduation date). I signed my state board test application, grabbed my little potted plant, a bittersweet token of appreciation from my very first loyal client. Said my goodbyes to my few remaining friends and just like that me and beauty school parted ways. I was ready to go home, my car was already packed. I was ready to be back to seeing my fiancé everyday, back to my mom and my childhood dome home. I had the schooling needed to start my career. I was ready to continue down my little preplanned, thought out, road of life ahead.

I had been dating my husband since January of my senior year. He proposed on the night I graduated high school. We had a long distance relationship while I attended beauty school. I always told myself if we could survive the distance then it was meant to be. We married September of 2002. Our one and only child, a son, was born 3 weeks before our first anniversary. He was perfect and so was everything else.

My husband was a natural at being a dad. He put in just as much work as me, never complained, was great company during many sleepless nights, and never hesitated to tote our son with him anywhere he had to go. The love I had for my little boy was so intense. I had never experienced anything like it before, it consumed me, my heart was full. The love my husband had for our little boy was something I had never witnessed in my life. He adored that perfect little boy our love had created. His smile gleaming, his eyes reflecting pure happiness and his voice when calming his boys tears was the perfect tone of comfort. It was as though my husbands life had taken on a whole new purpose. My love for them both was explosive. It was everything it was suppose to be.

Life was good and so was our little family of three. We had a great amount of support as new parents from family and friends. We both continued to work. We both loved our careers. We had money to go places and for nice things. We had done everything in order. Schooling, careers, marriage, buying a home, and then starting a family. How could we ever fail after following that ideal plan to a tee! Our happiness should have been guaranteed.

Sadly we all know nothing in life is guaranteed. It wasn’t that we were unhappy. We had tons of happiness, we had our little boy. We however pushed aside the happiness of our marriage and relationship, not on purpose of course. We both were just way more concerned and dedicated to being the best parents we could be. Our son took president over everything. Wasn’t that how it should be? Our perfect little boy was growing up. We hadn’t missed a moment of his little life worried about anything but him. Before we knew it we were celebrating his 5th birthday. He was enrolled in school. He was full of life, already balancing his bike with only two wheels, pedaling with steady speed those few short street blocks to his home away from home. A home he loved as much as his own, it contained the closest thing he had to siblings, his cousins. It also was the home of his one and only aunt, and with four kids she always had a homemade treat even something special just for my son. She was well aware of all his allergies. That home away from home gave Mom and Dad kid free alone time, we should have used it more wisely...

For me being married young never frightened me, I never thought to myself "am I really ready for this?", I never thought about it at all. I just figured I was done with school, I loved this man, now get married. Marriage is more then just "I love him/her", we all know that, I even knew that. The thing that I believe hurt my marriage the most was lack of balance. I never do anything half ass. I am a giver, a people pleaser and I rarely say "No".   I will put aside my plans and put off my own needs to help anyone in a bind. I put my marriage aside a lot. I did spend time with my husband but never really nourishing our relationship. At the time it never seemed to be a big deal. It was though...

There was no major derailment. No big blow outs. It was a combination of things. Things that little by little piled up, like litter alongside the road. I wanted to go out and socialize with my girlfriends. He wanted to have time for his own friends and hobbies. We didn’t discuss large purchases. We were young and keeping up with the competition, always buying new cars and other expensive things. We spent money we didn’t have. We went on vacations using a credit card. We didn’t communicate our feelings. We avoided big issues. Neither one of us liked confrontation, so it was easier to just not say anything. We didn’t have the coping skills or open communication for dealing with everything life was throwing our way.

We thought we could bury our concerns and worries and continue to be happy. Be the ideal couple people thought we were. We were wrong! We didn’t acknowledge that of course. We continued on in life. We played our roles and we played them well. We did all the stuff a happy family does. Our son was growing up with two parents that loved him. Our son was happy and had everything a child should have.

I think we both liked the idea of a family, our son having both his parents. It was how things should be. Right? That ideal idea was what kept us playing our parts. Being a family. We wanted our son to have it all. Both parents raising him, living in the same home. It was something my husband and I never had ourselves growing up. We could be a family for our son. A happy couple though? Even with all the love we both had for our son, It wasn’t enough to keep our little love boat afloat. We were being hit with rough waves of destruction. Our love boat was a sinking ship! We needed life preservers and in more ways then one!

We were about to lose our home, we didn’t have our finances in line, we both were too busy blaming one another for the mess we had made to recuse ourselves from the drowning debt. We got lucky in the worst way when my in laws (actually grand in laws) needed help because of health reasons. We all moved in together and life was just fine. Smooth sailing, or so we hoped, we longed for a clear calm sea. We thought we could move and change all the things causing chaos in our lives. We planned to do just that. We wanted to do exactly that! It’s not that easy. Change like that doesn’t come from being placed in new scenery. Change like that takes true dedication. Change like that means setting your sail for your direct destination, rocking through the rough waves and winds. Change like that takes every day, constant awareness of the direction of your compass, ensuring your ship to stay the course.

Understand one thing please. My husband and I didn’t fight. We didn’t argue about things. We didn’t hate each other. We did something way worse. We never said anything at all, didn’t speak about concerns, didn’t ask one another questions. We thought eventually whatever issues we had would disappear, be washed away with the high tide out to sea. Ignorance is bliss right? We were two strangers living together, sharing the same bed, raising the same son and letting our love boat take on dangerous amounts of water, slowly, like no one was even aware of a leak.

My husband was numbing his pain, physical (herniated disc) and some emotional as well, with benzo’s and pain meds. I was caught up in owning my own salon. I had my own pain, my own prescription of pills and was taking them everyday. Everything we took was from our doctors so it was fine. I thought so anyway and my husband did too. We were sure it wasn’t a big deal. We were WRONG! We were a toxic pair. Our lives were slowly cracking. Like an egg that still has all of its shell, keeping its shape even with all the cracked pieces, but you know one more little tap on the counter and it will completely collapse. Tap...

Grandma had been ill with Alzheimer’s and she passed quickly. She wasn’t just my husbands grandma, she had raised him since he was an infant. He was devastated. He was lost. I didn’t know what to do for him. I couldn’t stop his pain or mend his breaking heart. He worried me, he would take pill after pill to get through the day.

Not even a year later, tragedy came crashing in again and now I was mourning the sudden loss of my best friend. Her death was and still is the worst thing I have ever known. My mind was in constant fear and worry anytime I couldn’t instantly get a hold of my husband. My mind assumed the worst and the thought of losing him consumed me. I now had anxiety meds added to my life everyday. Months and months passed, nothing changed. I couldn’t sit waiting and wondering if another disaster was about it hit. I gave my husband the choice of rehab or me leaving. He agreed to go. We both probably could have benefited from rehab with everything we were trying to deal with, but I didn’t get that luxury. I stayed with our son, committed to getting my own issues in line while my husband went away to do the same.

He called after one week. His voice was so clear and his words so positive. He was ready to come home. I was uneasy of him coming back so soon. The rehab assured me he was not an “addict” he had a “dependency” issue. Meaning his body just needed help to get through withdrawals. He was pain free (only physically though) and off all medications.

My son was so excited to have his dad back. I was happy for him to be home, but my gut was in knots and my nerves on edge knowing I still had a few of my own issues to overcome. My husband lasted one day home sober. Then he went to his scheduled doctors appointment and had his prescription refilled. I was mad but he assured me it was fine and he was fine. He did outpatient counseling required by his employer. We went to NA together. Still taking pills from the doctor and now when those ran out buying them as well. My husband took those things like candy! Sometimes 4-6 benzodiazepines at the same time. His body was dependent on them. He wasn’t an addict. “Dependent” what a good word to use to mask the truth. I knew better but never said anything, I just wanted to ignore it all. Some days when that handful of benzos hit his brain he wouldn’t be able to walk or talk. I had to call 911 more then once. Misery loves company, we all know that, so I went to my doctor for anxiety, depression, and “pain”. I was a master at numbing the reality, No one ever really aware of all the pain my happy little family faced in that big home behind closed doors.

Eventually we had to move from that big home, my husbands grandpa was the one on the loan and he was in love, remarried, and leaving town. After always owning a home we had to find a place to rent. Even with my husbands struggles after his grandma’s death, I never wanted the stress of paying bills and banking, so he continue to take care of all that, or so that was what I thought. I shouldn’t have put that all on him with everything else he was facing, I did though, it had always been done by him. We hadn’t been paying our bills, we had hundreds of dollars in overdraft fees, it was overwhelming, it was to late for me to fix it. This was more then the previous time when we were drowning in debt. This was a flash flood! Emergency alert! We had shut off notices for our utilities. My husband, without me even knowing, had turned in our seadoos to the bank. A loud Diesel engine and clanking of a chain late one evening had me up out of bed, standing on the sidewalk in my pajamas and bribing the repo guy with $100 cash to not take our truck, thinking one missed payment? I could make the money by the end of the week. Wrong. We hadn’t paid that truck payment in three months! It was a humbling moment for me and hit me hard. We were loosing it all. Everything we had. Our marriage included. Everything we had worked for. I was working day and night and still couldn’t keep up. We had a stack of over due bills, a large negative bank balance and some huge “dependency” problems. I still, even then, wasn’t quite ready to jump ship.

We thankfully found a newly renovated rental with the help of one of my moms realtor friend.  She graciously gave the landlord a good reference for us. I had to get it together and get my family back on track. I never wanted anyone regretting their word when it came to my name. I hated the situation of moving but I was so thankful for the good reference and having found a place to live. I was sure this was the fresh start we needed. Just our little family of three, living back in a middle of town, just like before when we were a happy family.  It was finally time for my husband to return to work after 6 months of being at home on short/long term disability. I was so happy for him. I thought it would be exactly what he needed to start feeling like his true self again. That return to work never happened, he refused to go back because they wanted to regularly screen him for Prescription drug use. I didn’t have a clue. He didn’t tell me anything. Opening the mail one evening I came across a letter explaining his refusal meant permanent termination. I was stunned. I was crushed. My heart sank. I felt like he had chosen those pills over me, his wife. Over working and helping to provide for our family.

My life map was falling apart, splitting along each and every fold. Worn down so thin the words were hard to read, leaving me confused and lost on a washed out dangerous dirt road with a large yellow sign “WARNING! PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK”! I had to make a “U TURN"!

Find a different road, get a whole new map, and start a new journey...

I started to think I needed to leave my husband. I knew I needed to get myself put back together to give my son what he deserved. I slowly got my “dependency” in check, anxiety meds were needed less. I was better then ever, at least, I thought. Still I was miserable though, I couldn’t stop the pain I felt. I knew my husband and me were a sinking ship, but still my heartache thinking after everything, trying so hard, this was it. I was so scared of all the “what if’s” that might occur if I left my husband, the guilt I would have to live with, the blame that people would assign to me for walking out of my marriage. Still I had to go, I had to for my son, I knew it had to happen, and I knew no matter the outcome or what fate played out in the future god already had a plan in place, I had to have faith in whatever that plan was, it was all I had left at that point. I decided it would be best to wait until after the holidays to leave. That gave me all of December to save some money, make a plan, and make my own changes in my life that I needed to make.

Life never goes as planned though. December 25th 2013. Christmas Day, I walked out on my husband after 11 years of marriage. I left that day because my husband couldn’t even wait until Christmas dinner was done before he had to leave to “run an errand “. My parents were both at my house for Christmas. It was the first time I can ever remember having them both there for a holiday. Maybe that’s why I found the courage I did. I packed up a bag of clothes, what I needed to get through the week and was ready to split the minute my husband returned. I left that day unplanned, unprepared, and sadly without my son. My son, only 10 years old, wouldn’t leave his dad. At the time it crushed me and I felt horrible leaving without him, even if it was just a 5 minute drive away. Years later I learned why my son made that choice to stay. It was a stab in my heart to learn the truth. I thought my son just didn’t understand being so young. It wasn’t at all because he didn’t understand. It was exactly the opposite! My son knew what was happening to both his parents. He knew we had secrets. He was wiser then most kids his age. My son wouldn’t leave because he feared his dad wouldn’t survive if he did. He knew what could happen if his dad took all those pills. He knew it and so he stood there with watery eyes and told me “I need to stay so dad won’t be all alone”. Walking out I couldn’t even think straight, tears poured down my face, my heart was racing, anxiety consumed me. I spent the evening pacing my moms house, she watched in worry. She couldn’t calm my intense emotional state. She tried and tried. Exhaustion set in and my mom tucked me into bed. My mind still spinning in circles, constant worry took over me, I couldn’t sleep. The last thing I remember was telling my mom I needed to go my house and find my anxiety meds. She wanted to drive me. I just wanted to leave. I grabbed my keys and walked out the door before she could even throw on shoes or grab her own keys.

I woke up the following day in the hospital with my dear friend by my side. The nurse had noticed her listed over and over in my recent call history and called her. I had apparently drove myself to the hospital late the night before, unknown to my mom who thought I went back to my house, calmed myself, and went to sleep. I had walked into the emergency entrance having a full on panic attack, heart racing, throwing up, crying, and I couldn’t get out a word. They sedated me, drew some blood, and being unaware of my situation the nurse knew I would be safe there sleeping the meds off. My dear friend took me to her house to rest and get my head back on straight. One day was all I needed. I put on my best face and knew what I needed to do.

I continued to pay the bills (well I gave my money to my mom and she paid them for me.) and I was at the house every morning and night to be with my son. I was still enabling my husband though and sadly, I couldn’t stop. It wasn’t cause I was still in love with him, sure I cared about him, he was the father of my child, but the love for him as my husband was long gone, it had been replaced with anger and resentment. It was easier to give in, get him off my back for the day, his constant hounding made me weak and wanting to visit my own bad habits again. It took 5 months, filing for divorce and signing off for him to collect his retirement early, with my portion going to him as well, before he moved out of the house. Finally it was time to start over, I had my son and he was all the motivation needed.

It was a bumpy road and even after 5 years sometimes it still is. Divorce, addiction, dependency, debt, and sharing a child with someone is an ongoing circus. It is hard, stressful, and straining. It’s not what I ever wanted when I walked down that aisle and said my vows. I never dreamed of being a single mom to a growing boy. I never thought I would be checking the divorce box on a loan application. Some may say I should have stuck by my husband, in sickness and in health. Not that easy when I was the one helping him be sick. I was enabling him. I had my own illnesses, my worst being an enabler. We were only causing more sickness to each other. I just knew if I stayed my son would have had two miserable self destructive people raising him. I knew even if I had myself completely together as long as I was with my husband I would continue to enable him out of pity. I left to change my life and to give my son a chance to have a life he deserved. I, of course, always wanted my son to have both his parents together and raising him, some things you have to sacrifice. My son still has his dad. My son still has his mom. Most importantly my son still has and always will have ME and I’m a way better mom now then I use to be!