It’s a funny thing when your life begins to fall apart. You see glimpses of it at your son’s birthday party when a friend is just a little too overly comfortable in your home or in how she presents herself towards your husband. Or a week later, at your husband’s birthday lunch when this same friend gushes over him so much; it almost makes you feel like an intruder; the 3rd wheel. But then school starts and you find a school where you are truly valued…like you haven’t been in 7 years. And your husband finds what he says is his dream job and it’s all going great.
But still, in the back of your mind, there’s this hand, trying to grab you. A natural disaster hits and you, along with your entire city are captivated with the amount of loss, destruction, fear, and raw emotions. You worry about your small family of 4 and if your dad, who isn’t quite dad anymore, will be okay. And then he gets rushed to the ER amongst rushing flood waters, so he isn’t. But you can’t get there. Caught up in that and keeping your boys calm, you brush off the fact that that same friend keeps texting your husband.
School goes back to normal for you. You win an award and your husband says “That’s great.” Dad falls and doesn’t know you anymore. Doesn’t know anyone anymore. And that friend? She’s still texting. He starts telling you what a dumb bitch you are, how much of a stupid and ungrateful bitch you are, and how lazy you are at home. That you do nothing. Meanwhile, his job, that dream job, gets harder and starts falling apart for him. And those names? They keep coming.
Halloween weekend hits. It’s always hard for you both since Chuck. Man. Chuck. The 4 of you spend it at your husband’s school festival then a downtown family festival. It was an actual nice day. Until you, you stupid bitch, can’t decide what you want for dinner. So FUCK IT! Just take me home and get the boys dinner.
That night after your husband passed out, you go to plug his phone in for him. But you noticed-there, on the screen-texts. From that friend. “I love you.” “I can’t wait to be with you.” “My King.” “My Queen.” I want to know all about your fantasties.” And the worse? This friend…no. This BITCH calls your boys hers!
When you finally wake him up, he laughs. Said they’d been waiting for you for find this “joke” and teach me a lesson. But what was the lesson learned? That they were both liars and cheats who broke my heart? That no matter how much forgiveness I can do for my husband nothing will ever be good enough?
November. You’re so angry and lost that you don’t know what to do. Your husband continues to drink more and miss work. Dad gets worse every single day. Having to tell your children their dad and that friend were both liars and bad people nearly tore me apart.
December. He lost his job. You are ashamed, angry, upset—you don’t even know what you are. Dad didn’t know anyone at Christmas and your husband was so drunk at a family dinner and so ugly, you cried in the restaurant.
January. Dad has to go into a home. He can no longer be cared for by us. Diapers. Accidents. Night spells. It’s too much. Dad is here, but that/this isn’t Dad.
February. Mom’s heart is dying. In fact, 70% of it is already dead. The only thing that can keep it alive is a vest. Your husband still has no job. He drinks all day.
March and April. The father in law has offered rehab. Again.
Nope. The husband has maxed out a credit card in your name. Called a restaurant to find you. Tracked your phone. And discouraged a new friend from hanging out.
All there is left to do is file for a divorce. Is it what you want? No. Never wanted to raised my kids alone. But the boys need to know they can’t act like this and treat others this way.
You miss your husband. Your best friend. The one you told everything to and the one that actually gave a damn. The one with the easy smile, the contagious laugh, those laugh lines around his eyes, and the love that you had everyday. He is so lost in alcohol, depression, and self-hate that divorce is the only option. He needs to go find himself again. Not by walking in a part once a week while you and the boys slip further away each day or sitting in a house playing video games.
But by getting clean.