Attitude Is Evertything

Attitude: A small word that can make a big difference

The two things that I can control in life, my attitude and my actions

These phrases have been running through my head since I finished with my Al-anon meeting tonight. Sometimes I just need a meeting to remind me not to get lost in the bad parts of life and instead to enjoy the good parts.

So far on this website my attitude has not been all that stellar. In a way, this website for me is a double edged sword. It helps me to heal by letting me get it all out there but it doesn't always portray my life in the most positive fashion.

So tonight I just wanted to take a few moments to focus on the positives that do exist in this life that I continue to choose every day. And that is the key really, I choose this life. No one makes me stay.

God, give me the serenity to accept the things I can not change, the courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference. I can change my life if I choose to. Thus far I have chosen to stay because I love my husband and for the most part I love the person he is becoming. Sometimes I just need to remind myself of that.

Tonight I went to the store to get milk and his prescription. I sent him a text on my way home that read kitchen pls. When I got home the dishwasher was running and the counters were clean. Simple as that. Ask and ye shall receive.

Since I had no resentment towards him when I got home we were able to sit down as a family and eat dinner together. A very nice dinner in which Munchkin ordered us all around. Daddy eat... mommy pizza, etc.

After dinner I headed off to my meeting. I was grateful at that moment that he was able to stay home with Munchkin because just 18 months ago he wouldn't have been able to.

After my meeting I was driving home and I saw a man pacing back and forth on the street. He kept looking at his cell phone. In the neighborhood I was driving through, I know what he was doing. But I'm grateful today because that is not DH. I don't have to worry about what street corner he is on trying to score his next fix. I know when I get home the dirty plate may still be on the table (it was) but he is sober and my son is bathed, read to and sound asleep.

A little while later I passed a little league football game and I started thinking that in a few years that might be us and I am grateful that DH is going to be clean and going to be able to be a part of Muchkin's life in a way that a lot of addicts don't get the opportunity to be.

So many things to be grateful for, so much of a different outlook when you just change your attitude and your perception of the situation.

So, I guess what I'm saying is while I may write about some really heavy and depressing things here I need to remember to also focus on what is getting better and what is going well lest you all want to crawl into your computer screens and beat me with your old shoe!!
:-)

Selfish

We teach others how to treat us. That is a phrase that has run over and over in my mind. Someone mentioned it in the comments and it really reminded me how stuck I feel. In Al-anon I have learned that I can change some situations simply by changing the way I react to them.

In a lot of areas of our life together this has helped. If I can ask him to load the dishwasher instead of doing it myself and then resenting him for it, I save the resentment and the dishwasher gets loaded. The problem is, who asks ME to do it? Why should I HAVE to ask him all the time?

This morning he says to me, I need to get my prescription refilled. I said to him, you are a big boy, call the number on the bottle and I will pick it up after work. He didn't call. He has left it, once again, up to me to do or our little family unit to suffer the consequences.

This is a theme I hear about quite often in AA and Al-anon circles. I looked for the topic in my Courage to Change book but couldn't find it but the fact is that alcoholics and addicts tend to be very selfish. When they are in the depths of their disease they only think about getting their next fix, about themselves and their needs.

The problem is, this is a learned behavior, and one that is hard to break. When FIL was in jail his only worry seemed to be about whether the neighbors would find out and it would ruin his "reputation." Never mind the mess he had created for his family. His concern was purely of a selfish nature.

For DH this seems to carry over into a lot of our lives. And I, am no less of a guilty party in this. I have let him "learn" how to treat me. Or, in a way how to treat himself. For so many years I accepted this unacceptable behavior and now I'm tired of it but I don't know what to do.

I've asked and asked and tried and tried but I don't seem to be getting answers that work for us. I tried the credit card thing and you see from the last post how well that went. I've tried letting him decide how much money he brings home from side jobs and how much he keeps. That SEEMS to be working well in the fact that now he tells me how much he gets and then gives me some. Not always how much I THINK he should give me, but it is a start.

However, my biggest problem is respect. How the hell do I get that? I don't want to be his mother but what is an acceptable "consequence?" I can't ground him when he throws a fit and calls me names but I also don't want him to think it is ok.

This morning he needed gas. He called me and demanded that I get him the bank card, again he shredded his credit card and I don't trust him to have full access to the bank account, and seemed genuinely pissed off when I didn't drop everything right then to get it to him.

After I dropped Munchkin off at daycare I told him to meet me at the gas station that I pass on my way to work which is a different way than he usually goes but NOT out of his way. He seemed pissed that I would even suggest that, instead he wanted me to go out of MY way for him.

Finally he pulls into daycare, I walk out and get into my car and he peels out onto the road. He knows I am TWO cars behind him yet he can't wait for me to get there. Instead he just starts pumping gas and tells me to go inside. Inside to wait with the 20 other people, thereby making me LATE to work.

This is unacceptable behavior, but what should I have done? I didn't want to give him the bank card since we only have one and I use it for everything I need where as he uses cash. So how do I give him a consequence for treating me like that without being his mother? Keep in mind he is now 36 hours off of medicine so the manic is already starting....

I just really feel stuck between continuing to play the roles that we have played and trying to move ourselves into different roles. I want so much some days to just run away and start over somewhere else with someone else. Would I let them treat me the same way or would I be stronger?

Maturity

I'm having a really rough time right now dealing with DH's maturity level. Or rather lack of a maturity level. They tell you that when someone starts using they stop maturing. For DH this was somewhere between 13 and 16 years of age.

When I was told this I just nodded my head. After all, he had to be better off of drugs than on drugs, the rest we could deal with right? Seriously, this is MUCH harder than I anticipated. Some days it is like I have two kids instead of one.

Let me explain. DH has to take medicine. He has a "chemical imbalance" that may or may not have been present before the drug use but is certainly present now. If he doesn't take it regularly he is prone to mood swings. Sometimes violent screaming, throwing things mood swings. It is AWFUL!!

I have to remind DH on a daily basis to take his medicine to avoid this happening. I do not get to slack off and worry about myself because if I do we have weeks like two weeks ago where we get in HUGE arguments because he becomes irrational and "manic." I HATE having to be his mother. Last night he told me he had taken his last two pills.

I will have to call the pharmacy, I will have to go pick up the prescription. This is his last refill, his doctor left the practice. I will have to find him a new doctor, make an appointment, and remind him to go. If I don't, it is not just him that suffers the consequences, it is our whole little family unit.

And it is not just medicine... it is his whole life...

He had a credit card. He misused it terribly, but so did I when I was first getting used to having them so I excused it. It had a very low limit and I figured we would work through it and he would get it. It was nice, he could stop and pick up things at the store, grab food on the way home, etc.

About three months ago he didn't take his medicine and I didn't remind him. He had an "episode" A screaming, yelling, I want a divorce episode in which he ripped up the credit card and threw it all over our lawn.

I haven't replace it yet so I am back to being the only one who can stop at the store, pick up his medicine, pickup food, etc. It sucks. I pick up Munchkin from daycare, it would be SOOO much easier for him to stop and get milk than for me to stop, with the munchkin in tow and get it. Yet, I have to stop.

Aside from learning to live as an adult I also have to contend with the "social issues." I don't know how best to describe it to you except to come right out and say it. DH has the social grace of a 13 - 16 year old. And not just at home, in public too. And sometimes it is damn embarrassing to me. He will do or say something that I think is EXTREMELY immature and it makes me embarrassed and I react with anger.

This doesn't usually go well. A friend of mine has pointed it out and I have been trying really hard not to embarrass him in public but sometimes it is really hard. He is also this way at home. For awhile I thought some of his actions were cute, now they are wearing on me.

This morning he yelled at me because I let my alarm go off twice and then I got up, went down stairs and he came downstairs and apologized and then asked if he could get in the shower with me. Seriously? To me this just shows a lot of immaturity in social situations. Like he doesn't know that is not how you treat other people, etc.

It's hard for me to explain, but it is tiring, and wearing on me and just writing it here makes me feel 100% better about it, even if none of you fully understand....

Lies

I'm deep breathing right now. I HATE lies and it seems like that is all DH's family is made up of, one lie after another.


On Sunday DH's dad got arrested. We are not allowed to tell anyone. WHY?? What is with all the secrecy?? It is PUBLIC record. All you have to do is go to the courts online website and you can see everything that he was charged with as well as all of the motions that have been filed, etc.

Yet FIL hasn't even told his family that live a few towns away. When he found out that SIL (DH's sister) told her in-laws he was really upset. They live in the town with his family and if they know than EVERYONE might know.

Then last night I get home and I find out that DH talked to his dad on the phone and his dad admitted that the pot that they found on him when he was arrested was his. Despite the fact that EVERY time we talked to his new wife she adamantly told us that it was NOT his. So DH asked FIL, What does Step-MIL think of all of this?

His answer, oh it is what it is. Which basically means, I didn't tell her, don't say anything. MORE LIES!! That is one of the things that infuriates me the most about this disease. The lying. DH does it all the time, over simple stupid things.

Did you feed the horses?

Of course I did.

Are you sure because I'm going right by there on my way to my meeting I can do it.

No, I did it.

So I stop, and lo and behold, no, in fact he did NOT feed the horses.

When I question him... he thought I would be angry that he forgot so he lied to me. It is things like that that just tear me up. They make me want to pack up my son and run for the hills and never look back. Take him somewhere where he knows that there is a better way to live his life.

But I can't run. This is our life, for better or worse, DH is Munchkin's father and I can't run from that. So we try to work through it. He talks to his sponsor, I talk to mine and we hope that tomorrow is a better day.

One day at a time. One lie free day at a time....

Blog Format

I'm going to be doing a lot of jumping around on this blog and I don't want you to get confused so I want to explain things a bit. When I write an entry from the past I'm going to put it back there. Someday if I print all this stuff out then it will be in order. However, I will put a post here with a link to there. Ya follow me yet?? :-)

Anyhow, I think you'll catch on eventually.....

Introduction

I think at the beginning of any blog it is necessary to have an obligatory introductory post. So here it is. Here I am, I guess.

12 years ago I met my husband, here after referred to as DH. He was 15 and I was 16 and I'm not sure in those 12 years we have ever gone more than one week without speaking to each other. Somewhere along the way I learned that he did some "recreational" drugs and a lot of "recreational drinking/partying."

In hindsight that should have been my clue to run... run far, far away. But I didn't. Something in my urged me to stay, to try to fix things, that somewhere deep down inside he was a good person.

This website is my attempt to find out why it is I had that compulsion to stay. And also my safe place to come and write about the events in my life that lead up to where we are now and the things that are still happening with us.

When he was using I thought if he just got clean our life would be perfect. I was wrong, more wrong than I ever knew I could be. It doesn't get perfect, it just gets different. Now I go to Al-anon and I work with my sponsor to try to understand things.

I've always used writing as my tool to help me process my life and I'm hoping that this blog will be my outlet. My way to write about everything that happened in my past and is still happening in my future, process it, and hopefully let it go.

Want to join me on this journey?

Sarah

Throughout all of the drama with my lady business I still couldn't manage to let go of DH. I would still talk to him on the phone almost every day, no more than ever two or three days. It was like fatal attraction. I still love you but I can't be with you. That sort of thing.

And for awhile there was Sarah. I have had a love-hate relationship with this name through the years and for me, the hate part started in the fall of 2000.

Right after I got diagnosed with the STD DH started dating Sarah. When I was younger Sarah was my favorite name. It was the name of my first cat, my special fortress and what I was certain I was going to name my first daughter. After this, it moved to the bottom of the list.

At some point I was at DH's house right before Thanksgiving and we slept together. I know, I can hear you now. You slept with the guy who gave you an STD? Look, I didn't say I was sane back then. So yes, I slept with him. And then I told him he had to pick between Sarah and me.

Just to make sure of it, while he was in the bathroom I got her number out of his phone. When he refused to break things off with her I did what any crazy woman would do, I called her. Explained to her who I was, that Jake had given me the STD and that she should be tested, and that oh yeah, by the way he just slept with me again.

She confronted him, he confronted me. And then his dad, in true enabler fashion found a way to make this all my fault. I remember the conversation clearly. I was sitting in the parking lot of the pet store. His dad was yelling at me about how I needed to mind my own business and I needed to let DH have a new life, etc.

I remember feeling crushed and thinking that I had lost him forever. Lost him to a girl named Sarah.

STD

When a man gets an STD, usually there are some symptoms. Burning, itching, etc. When woman gets one, often times there is nothing. They can go on for months or years without knowing anything is wrong.

For me, it all started with a burning when I wiped and a funny smell to my urine. I went to the doctor thinking I had a UTI. They ran a couple of tests and just to be safe did some STD tests. At the time I just went along with it. Didn't think anything of it.

Then I got the call. The one that tells you that you have positive proof that the one you are with has been unfaithful. I remember my mind grasping to try to understand it. Questioning the doctor on how I could have gotten it. Poor woman probably was just shaking her head, wondering how I could be so naive as she explained to me that no, I couldn't have gotten it from a toilet seat. It came from sex with someone. Someone who was supposed to be sleeping only with me.

When I hung up the phone I cried. Then I called him. I remember it like it was yesterday screaming into the phone at him that he had given my chlamydia while I drove the 30 minutes from my place to his place to confront him in person.

After I got there some words were exchanged but really, at that point, what can you do. I remember going out to his driveway, sitting in my vehicle and just sobbing. Wishing for all the world I could make the hurting stop. At some point he called me, asked me what the heck I was still doing in his driveway. Basically told me to leave.

This man, the one I thought I loved, was essentially telling me that my pain meant nothing. That it was time for me to go now. So I left, went back to college with a heavy heart.

As it turns out, for him all the symptoms were there but he was just too afraid to tell me so he waited. Hoping it would just go away. For him it took a course of antibiotics. For me it took much much more.

I battled a raging infection that would not go away for over two months. I was on round after round of antibiotics. Once a day, twice a day, three times a day. Finally two days before Christmas the doctors tell me the only option left is IV antibiotics. I am admitted into the hospital on December 22nd and spend the next two days hooked up to really strong antibiotics in an effort to kick what had not turned into PID.

When it was all over, when the infection finally left my body I was left with one thing. The knowledge that if the infection had damaged my tubes I may never be able to have children. The one and only thing I KNEW I wanted from my future and now, I was uncertain if it would ever happen.

Cell Phone

The first time I got DH a cell phone was in September of 2000. We were celebrating our 4 year anniversary and it was kind of my gift to him.

Since he had no credit it was sort of my gift to myself since it was in my name and I charged the setup cost and phone costs on my newest shinny piece of plastic I had acquired only days before.

The phone stayed with DH for all of a month and a half before it became the topic of heated debates.

The Tattoo

DH had one tattoo. He got it over the summer. It was a tribal sun on his ankle that he showed up with one morning after a night of partying.

It was paid for by a girl he swears he didn't sleep with.

I remember it like it was yesterday. The anger, the sadness, the longing to believe that she was just a friend even when SIL told me that her friend had called asking if she was just a one night stand.

For the entire time we continued to date and were married the only thing that tattoo did for me was disgust me. Every time I saw it there was a rock in the pit of my stomach. And every time I asked DH to consider getting it removed he refused. I guess at that point I should have known where his respect for me was.

I lived for 8 1/2 years with a man who carried a mark of infidelity on his ankle. Something I never got over.

Oz Fest

Sometime in late June I got my first experience with DH's concert scene. Not first hand mind you but being left at home while he went to party. DH had a friend, RW and the two of them were known to get into trouble together.

Some how one of them came up with the brilliant idea to make a road trip to Apple River in WI to go to Oz Fest. I don't remember the exact conversation but I'm pretty sure there was yelling and crying and you can't go.

But in the end, he went. I knew it would be trouble. I already knew at this point I couldn't trust him although I don't think I realized to what extent. I had a hunch there would be drinking and drugs. I think the women part didn't really enter my mind until later.

Money Matters

In June of 2000 DH and I were back to our usual fighting in all of it's glory. This particular day we were at his parents house. I had just gotten a new jeep, well new to me, the previous fall and at some point as we were arguing he got into it.

The details I don't remember the sound the door made as the jeep rolled backwards and it caught a tree I will never forget. The door was open and something had to give and it wasn't the tree.

I can still see it in my head, the wrinkle down the drivers side door. The horrible sound it made every time I tried to close it. I told my parents that the wind had caught it and sprung it. I didn't know how to tell them the truth.

Then I freaked out trying to figure out how to fix it. This was WAY more than wind damage and would actually require a new door. Something my parents would surely figure out if I turned it in to insurance.

So, one day, when a credit card offer came in the mail I applied. Then rather than charge the repairs on the card I took off cash. $900 to be exact to have someone fix the door. As I look back, I'm guessing perhaps this was friend of the DH's family who offered to do it for cheaper than paying a body shop. I don't know why else I would have paid with cash and not charge.

Either way, this moment in my life was the first, but certainly not the last, time that I began borrowing and charging to cover up the mistakes DH made. This moment when I chose to go in debt rather than tell the truth was a turning point down a long, steep, slippery slope.

Can't Stay Gone

As bad as I thought it was and as much as I figured we were over DH and I somehow found a way back to each other.

At this point MW had moved out, DH had moved out and so it was just me, alone in a two bedroom apartment. I put an add in the college paper and had a few people come look to sublet it. I finally settled on a nerdy graduate student named W.

After W moved in DH and I rekindled our relationship and by January we went on a trip to Disneyworld together. I don't remember a lot of the trip but I do have pictures and it appears that we were happy. That we had a good time.

Through out the winter and spring we took a couple more little trips like this. Just a few weekend excursions to try to make us feel like more of a real couple. One I remember specifically. It was May, we went up north to do a little shopping and a little fishing.

It was windy and much colder than it probably should have been. We didn't have a boat so we had to shore fish and DH was frustrated and pissed off. I remember just wanting to be done. Wanting to go home so I didn't have to deal with him anymore.

Then in June DH's grandfather passed away. All of his family had traveled the hour and a half to see him, be with him, except DH. He said that death bothered him, that he didn't want to go. So when his grandfather passed he was the only one that was not there. He did end up going up there for the funeral and I drove up on the day it was held.

His grandpa was cremated and I remember this was the first funeral I had ever been to where there wasn't a casket. There was a picture and a little box. I remember being really bothered by that little box, knowing that his grandpa was in it.

After the funeral I went outside to say my goodbyes before I headed home and I remember his dad pulling me aside and thanking me for coming. Thanking me for being there to support the family. I remember at the time and still even to this day finding that really strange. It was June of 2000. At this point I had been dating his son for almost four years. Why wouldn't I have been there?

The Final Straw

It is late. Eleven, midnight, one. I am not sure now. We are standing in the parking lot of a gas station. The gas station is closed and DH is on a pay phone. I am about 300 feet away from him just standing, watching, waiting.

There has been another fight. His bag is packed. He is waiting on his mom. She is coming to take him home for the last time.

I do not remember what the fight was about. I do not remember if I yelled at him to go or begged him to stay. I just remember standing there, in the cold, watching his mom pick him up and them drive away. I remember walking the block back to the apartment in tears. Tired and defeated thinking that this was the end. This time he was never coming back.

Choosing DH

After the domestic DH moved out and back in with his parents. More out of necessity than anything else as there was a mandatory no contact order issued because it was a domestic. However, as soon as I could I started working to get the no contact order lifted and then I started working with his big fancy lawyer that his parents had hired to try to get him out of the charges.

During all of this MW had made it very clear that she did not want him returning to the apartment. That if he came back she was moving out. This was the first time I was asked to choose between him and someone else and the first time I picked him. I made excuses but at the end of the day I still picked him.

She wasn't working and he had a job in our town that he was having to drive 45 minutes to and from every day. So I used that as the reason he needed to come back. It was lame and a cop out but I did it just the same. So somewhere in the beginning of October she moved all of her things back to her parents house and DH moved back in.

The Domestic

**This is verbatim from the statement I gave to police. Most of it I don't remember but it gives you an idea as to how dysfunctional we were and how crazy this disease made me. I'm sorry it's so long. I was very wordy....**

It all started in my bedroom. DH cam in and told me he had decided that he didn't want to go to a movie. I got upset and told him that I was getting ready and that he was going with me. He went to leave the room and I stood in front of him so he sat on the bed. After talking for a few minutes he told me to get ready and we would go and he went into the living room.

While curling my hair I heard the front door close and footsteps on the stairs. So I ran from my room to the stairwell and down the stairs and I caught him at the bottom of the stairwell and asked where he was going. He said to get a cigarette and he promised to come back so I went back into the apartment.

I continued to curl my hair and DH came back up and went out onto the deck to smoke. After a few minutes he came back to the bedroom and said I really don't want to go. I told him that he promised and he got mad and said whatever and stomped into the living room. I then heard the door open again and I sprinted for it. He was on his way down the stairs and I tried to stop him numerous times but couldn't. Finally at the bottom of the stairs I got in front of the door and told him to go upstairs. He told me that he wanted to leave and I said he needed to go upstairs. He tried to move me but I held on to the door knob so he stomped back upstairs and sat in the living room.

Back upstairs I was getting really mad and so was he. Every time he would get up I would go stand in front of the door. It was that this point that MW came over and started bitching about him. She said, "Well just tell him to go to hell and you can come with me. He's an asshole you should just come out with me." Well this made DH mad and he came over and told her to stay out of it and that we shouldn't be talking behind his back. I told him we weren't and that I just wasn't leaving because I had to stay and babysit him because he has promised to do something with me so he was going to, whether it was at a movie or sitting in the apartment all night.

By this point he was pretty angry. MW headed towards the bathroom to finish getting ready and DH went into the living room and sat down. I went in to talk to him and sat in another chair. We talked for a little bit and then he got up to leave and I ran to get in front of him. I tried to shove him and he tried to get to the door without hurting me. We kind of wrestled for placement a little and somehow I ended up in front of him. I grabbed on to the doorknob and he tried to move me. He then looked at me and said, "You better move because I don't want to hurt you." I didn't move so he tried to move me again and couldn't. He then said, "Move, I don't want to hurt you." and I said, "Go ahead because I'm not moving." However the next time he tried to move me I let go of the doorknob so the added force he used sent me flying across the kitchen. I was so mad I went after him and jumped on his back and hit him on the back of the head.

He was a wrestler so he swung me around into sort of a headlock and tried to get me to go back into the apartment. I stumbled and he looked at me and said you better be careful, you don't want to fall down the stairs. I said I didn't care and he went back inside. Then MW decided to get involved. I told him that I wanted him to go and get anything he had brought with him (because he was supposed to spend the night) and get out.

{{Interjecting briefly here... he lived with us... but I was trying to convince the police he didn't so they would drop the domestic charge. I was hoping they would see that both of us were crazy and that he didn't live there so it couldn't be domestic. I think the crazy part is well established....}}

He said he would come back for it later and I told him he wouldn't and that I wanted the key he had to the apartment. He took it off of the key chain and threw it across the apartment. MW went and got it and picked up the phone and set the key on the counter.

He went to leave and I was in too much of a shocked state to stop him but then I ran after him. He went to his car and I followed telling him he didn't need to leave and that he needed to go get any clothes he brought because I didn't want him to come back. He got into the car and started it and I reached for the keys and he pushed me away. I then jumped into the car as he was backing it. My body was behind him and my legs were out the door but he wouldn't stop. I guess he must have hit the other car then because he stopped and pulled forward. He then got out and I grabbed his keys. that's when he grabbed my arms and swung me into the other car in an attempt to get his keys back. He tried to pry them from my hand and said you better give me my keys so I don't hurt you.

At this point I thought he might hit me so I told MW (who was standing at the bottom of the stairs) that if he touched me she needed to call the police. So he walked away from me towards her and told her if she called he'd hurt her. So I put the keys in my pocket, locked the car and shut the door. I then walked past him and past MW and up to the apartment. MW followed and then DH. She tried to shut the door but he came in. I went and sat on the couch because I was in shock. DH came to talk to me and I wasn't scared of him. he asked me for his keys but I didn't give them to him. He then headed for the bathroom and I followed. He tried to use the phone but I unplugged it saying it was my phone. He then got a phone out of the closet that he had given me and tried to use it and I wouldn't let him so he went to the closet to put it away and I went into the bathroom.

The next thing I know I heard him yell, "If I can't take my car I'll take yours." And so I ran after him and he said give me my keys and I refused so he headed towards my car down the stairs and I got in front of him and he just looked defeated and set my keys on the stairs and walked past me.

He walked through the parking lot and was on his way to a pay phone when the police arrived. The house key he had he must have grabbed on the way out with my keys.

**************************************

Wow.... it has been a good 5 - 7 years since I have read that story and just reading it now makes me cringe. That, right there, is how DH and I continued to fight for the remainder of our relationship. He would try to leave I would threaten, cry, scream, take away keys, anything to get him to stay.

In the end he was physically violent with me but over 50% of the time there was a chance to walk away before it happened and I didn't take it.

The Party

I'm not a partier. I have never been a partier. I did not attend a single party during my high school days and during college I went to one and only one party. I remember vividly trying to fit into DH's life. He was living with me now and I desperately wanted to try to be that happy couple I had been dreaming of.

So one weekend he decided to take me to a party with his new friend D. I'm guessing he figured this would be a mild party for me to get brought into. I can remember the row of "apartments" we went to that looked like storage sheds from the outside. I can remember the one that they told me not to get to close to, it was guarded by a big dog. In my head I have a vision of something off of the Sandlot but I think that was just in my head. I'm not sure I ever saw this killer dog.

Once I was inside this "apartment" (and I use that term loosely) I began looking around and immediately judging what I was seeing. It was small and not well taken care of. The people at this party were making crude druggie jokes. At one point there was a story told about C's little sister and how they could say to her that it was 3:20 and she knew that meant she had to go to the other room so they could get high.

It was at that point I felt trapped. I wanted to run for the door but I didn't want to seem uncool. I desperately wanted to fit in to DH's world so I could be a part of it but I felt horribly uncomfortable and out of place.

After a little while longer one of the guys said something and then they all headed upstairs. The gist of it was that they were going upstairs to get high. Thinking back on this I kick myself. I knew they were going upstairs to get high. Yet, I stood there and did nothing. Just allowed it to happen. This is what happens at parties I told myself. Be the cool girlfriend. Act like it's no big deal. Be a part of his world.

In the 13 years I was with DH I never once saw him do drugs. This night was no exception. He went upstairs and I stayed downstairs. After about 20 - 30 minutes he came back downstairs and we acted as if everything was cool.

Finding Them

When DH moved in with me I guess I thought moving to a new town would force him to find new people. This is something that happens a lot in the program. People think a relocation will change things, make them better. But it doesn't.

As soon as DH moved in he set about finding a job. The first job he found was as a chef in a restaurant. Unfortunately they had him working the night shift which he didn't like. He says it was because he never got to see me but I'm guessing it has more to do with him not getting to see his friends.

After about a week or two he ended up quiting that job and finding a job for a landscaping company mowing lawns. Within the first week of that job he had found a new group of druggies to hang out with. D worked with him and his girlfriend C was also into it.

I remember at one point having a conversation with DH, one I have also had with several people in the program regarding finding these people. How do they find them? How do you know to just walk up to someone and ask them about illegal drugs?

Regardless of how he did it, he did it and thus began the same old ways just in a new location.

The Apartment

Despite the fighting and the uncertainty somewhere along the line DH and I decide that it is a good idea to move in together. We find a two bedroom apartment and my best friend MW and I sign the lease.

The idea is that DH will live there and we will split the rent three ways but he will not be on the lease for... well I'm not quite sure what the rational was here. It is quite possible that MW and I got the apartment and DH decided to live with us later.

Either way we got the apartment on August 15th. We told my parents DH would be moving in with us about August 10th. My dad's response was there are only two bedrooms, where will he sleep?

I think they thought it was a bad idea right from the start but they never told me no. Maybe because I was 19 and they thought I would rebel. Maybe because they never realized just how bad it was. I'm not sure but I really wish they would have.

Done?

How do you know when you've fallen out of love with someone? He called last night alright, promised to see me this afternoon then cancelled to be with D the scum from hell.



I saw him, for a minute and I know he'd been drinking and probably smoking pot. I don't know what it's like not to love DH, but if it's possible that's probably where I'm at.



Everyone wants him to live with me and I just want to forget he ever exhisted. I can't say I hate him, but right now I dispise him.



Everything he does makes me sick! I'm in a three-year relationship with a man I don't know and never see.



I can't call him because I just left him fifteen min ago and he said he's call me when he got home. That could be 11:30 for all I know!



I think I will always lover him but I'm am not in love with him anymore and I don't know if we can get that back.



God I hate my life!!

M&D's Wedding

D had been my friend since I was in high school. In July she got married to M. I was a bridesmaid at the wedding. It was the first time I had ever been in a wedding and I was pretty excited about it.

The wedding went fine and everything seemed to be going along smoothly until the reception. I don't remember specific details but I do remember that there was drinking by DH. Copious amounts of drinking.

So obnoxious, in fact, were his attempts to get alcohol and to get drunk that a week later when I spoke to D on the phone she made it a point to mention to me how everyone was mad at DH at the wedding because he acted so immature about alcohol.

This was the first time I really remember being self conscious about him in a social setting. Up until that point I felt like I could hide it. It was always happening at home or with his druggie friends but at this point it started to spill over into the rest of my life.

So, I avoided going out in public with him. Didn't go out at all as a matter of fact. That way no one could judge him and he couldn't embarrass me.

Trip to MO

For July 4th we decided to go down to Lake of the Ozarks in MO. I remember that my parents didn't want us to go and I remember pulling the I am 19 and we are going to stay with family it will be fine card.

So, off we went in my fancy camero. I didn't want DH to drive but somewhere along the way he convinced me it was a good idea. And we got pulled over. I just knew my mom was going to KILL me because he was not covered on my insurance.

I can still remember the conversation we had with the police officer about thinking the speed limit was 65 and him saying no you are on HIGHWAY 65 the speed limit is 60.

Luckily the police officer went easy on us young kids from out of town and didn't give us a ticket. After that I remember sitting in the passenger seat looking over every 5 minutes to make sure we were still going within the posted speed limit. I think within about an hour I made him pull over so I could drive again... just to be sure.

On top of just going to Missouri to visit his family, we also had work to do. Well, he did... but we all know I would never have let him do his own work. You see, when DH graduated in May he didn't really graduate because he was 1/2 a credit short. So he had to take a class to get that credit. I remember that this weekend we were in Missouri was the last weekend he had to get the information done. I'm not sure how many of the assignments I actually did for him but I'm pretty sure it was a lot. Without my constant prodding I'm not sure he would have actually completed the assignments.

Looking back now, I should have just let him do it. Let him feel the consequences of his bad decisions by not getting his diploma or by having to do extra work. But I didn't. My fairy tale wouldn't be perfect if he didn't have the diploma so in my mind I was just "helping" him.

Happy Birthday

Somewhere along the way I learned that my birthday and any other should be important day (i.e. anniversary, valentine's day, etc.) was just another way for me to be disappointed. The first one I remember was either when I turned 17 or 18. I went to look for him because he was not at his house and found him down this long lane by his house smoking pot with this kid.

He tried to blow it off like it was nothing and handed me a card. A card and a red rose from Hy-Vee purchased on his way home. That was what I was getting for every major occasion. With out fail.

The year I turned 19 he added something to the mix. Instead of just the normal disappointment he got a ticket for possession of drug paraphernalia and underage possession of alcohol.

Happy Birthday to me...

Compromising My Values

Sometime in early 1999 my main focus turned to keeping DH around. At this point I had invested over two years in this relationship and I sort of felt like I had to keep him around. Every time he got in a fight with his parents I would get a guilt trip from them about how I was so good for him and he would be so much worse without me.



Somewhere along the line I decided that it was my job to try to save him. And to do that, I had to compromise some of the values I had. The first time I wrote about it was as follows:



I guess things are slowly getting better, but he still does pot at parties. I don't know what to do about that. It REALLY bothers me, but according to him its no worse than drinking and my father drinks, so what can I say about that?



Always, a justification. Always a reason why it was ok, in that instance. Somewhere in early 1999 I had also convinced myself that when he graduated from high school we were going to move in together. It was all part of my plan. The plan to save him. Marry my high school sweet heart and live happily ever after.



But... not with him... with the guy I wanted him to be. The very next paragraph in my journal shows that very obviously:



All I know is that if we live together next year I WILL NOT have that shit in my house. And with the way his parents and him have been getting along that may be more of a possibility.



Looking back now I wonder why I didn't see it. That perhaps there was a reason he was not getting along with his parents. That perhaps I should open my eyes instead of blaming them and see the real problem which was him.



Coulda, Woulda, Shoulda I suppose....

The Beginning of the Violence

I'm at DH's house. His sister and her new boyfriend are sitting in the sun room. DH and I are arguing. We always argue. This time it's about what it is always about. He wants to go with his friends, I want him to spend time with me.

He doesn't have a car. I'm not sure if it has been taken from him or if it is just in the shop but at the moment I am his ride and I'm not doing what he wants. He wants me to take him to a friend's house and I want him to stay here and "talk with me."

He grabs the house phone, this is before he has a cell phone, and heads for his bedroom to call a friend. I threaten him, I yell I scream and yet he locks the door so I can't get in. So I tell him I'm going to unplug the phone in the kitchen (it's a cordless). This is my standard protocol. Yell, scream and threaten. Anything I can to control the situation.

I turn around and head for the kitchen. I come around the island and just as I am reaching for the phone cord I hear footsteps behind me. He is yelling and running at me and the next thing I know I am airborne. I sail for a good 20 - 30 feet from the kitchen over the dinning area and land in the mud room next to the back door.

His sister and her boyfriend are stunned. I am in shock. He has never touched me before and now this. I don't know what to do. He retreats to his bedroom and I begin to cry. I'm just sitting there on the floor, pretty convinced that my tailbone is broken and not sure what the hell to do next.

Eventually, his sister and her boyfriend emerge from the sun room. They ask if I am ok and I weakly tell them yes and then I get up and head for my car. Like a dog with its tail between its legs I retreat. I'm not angry, I'm sad and embarrassed. I feel like I did something wrong.

Mother or Girlfriend?

We'll see if he can get a job. He had one, for three weeks, which he quit/got fired from. So, he's been one week without and he better get one soon or I will not be happy.

Temper, Temper

By October of 1998 I was already doing everything I could to avoid DH's temper. I wrote in my journal that:

I'm so afraid to bring it up though. I'm not ready to fight with him again. A lot of things scare me. We need to talk so badly, but it scares me. I hate his temper and it seems I'll do anything to stay away from it.

From this point forward my life became about walking on egg shells and the HUGE arguments that ensued when I just couldn't do it any more. Every time I would let things fester and then it would be one giant blow up. Right from the beginning I didn't want to make him mad, never realizing that not speaking up would make things much, much worse.

Once a Cheater...

The second time DH cheated on me, that I know of, was in October of 1998. I don't remember a thing about this incident other than the fact that it is written in my journal. Looking back I find that the most depressing part. That this had become such old hat that it doesn't even warrant a memory in my brain.

So, once again, I will quote verbatim from the journal:

Well, my life has become confusing again. On the 10th DH broke up with me. On the 9th he cheated on me. So I guess on the 10th I broke up with him. Then on Sunday the 18th he called me and begged my forgiveness. Then, I went to see him (which I probably shouldn't have) and now I haven't talked to him since.

I told him I wasn't ready to take him back full time yet. That I had to gain a lot of trust in him and that I had to get the musical out of the way. So now I wonder if he's thinking, hey I got the best of both worlds. I have her and anyone else I want.

Which is NOT what I want at all. I want him to be faithful. He can't prove I can trust him if he can't do that. So now I don't know what to do. I love him but I no longer want to be treated like shit.

The Wedding

I will never, as long as I live, forget the day of IDM's wedding. And in talking with him, he will never forget it either. As his bride was walking down the isle I was the only person in the church not looking at her. I was too busy looking at him. Hoping against all hope that he would change his mind, tell her he couldn't marry her and bolt for the back of the church.

He said he remembers me looking at him. He's supposed to be watching is new wife walk down the isle and there he is looking at me as I'm looking at him. He says I was giving him a death look, I think I was just signaling the end of life as he knew it.

I remember telling someone that it was the most loveless marriage I had ever been to. Their toasts at their reception were I always knew they'd get married. Nothing about how much they loved each other, nothing about how they were destined to be together.

She wanted to be married before the baby so the wedding was rushed and I just remember thinking that will never be my day. And ya know what, it wasn't. My wedding was fancy and overblown and took a year and a half to plan and while they are just as miserable as DH and I were they are still married and we are not.

So, I guess in a way, neither one of us seemed to have succeeded.

Engagement

Sometime in the summer of 1998 my parents got a phone call I will NEVER forget. Someone called to tell them that IDM was engaged. I remember them telling me like it was no big deal. They had no idea that somewhere, in the back of my mind, I kept hoping he was my way out.

When they told me that my heart just SANK. I remember going to my room and crying and crying. I could not figure out why he would marry her if he had just been broken up with her a few months earlier. It was a few more months before I found out she was pregnant.

Part of me gave up the day I found out he was getting married. There was a part of me that just stopped fighting, stopped raging against what I hated in my relationship and just accepted that was my life and that was what it was always going to be.

18 years old and I felt like there would be no one else out there worth looking for so I gave up. Is it possible to go back in time and shake your former self??

25th Anniversary Party

My parents celebrated their 25th wedding anniversary on August 4, 1998 and in honor of that they decided to renew their vows and have a very large party. The date of that party was August 15, 1998. DH came to the party and about an hour into the party he told me that he had a movie that he had to return to the movie story.

His excuse was that his mom would be mad if they had a late fee and so he had to drive the movie back but he would be quick and be back right away. An hour later he was still not back and I was in my parents office trying to call him. Over and over and over trying to call his parents house and other numbers I had for him.

He didn't have a cell phone at the time so I was just trying to call anyone I thought of where he might have stopped. Two hours later he finally called me from a pay phone. He had been pulled over for speeding and he had gotten a ticket for no insurance along with the speeding ticket and just for good measure they had towed his car.

I spent two hours of my parents party in the office next to the phone and another hour gone because I had to be the one to leave the party and go get him.

I'm thinking the late movie fee would have been cheaper.....

Graduation

When I graduated from High School DH showed up at my graduation party with a gift. Never in our year and a half relationship had he purchased me a gift without me knowing about it and so I was a little surprised. I can still remember where I was standing when I opened it, with him and his mom looking on.

It was a ring. A blue topaz, in the shape of a heart with two diamonds on the side. It is his birthstone. It was supposed to signify how much his heart would be with me when I went away to college.

I can still feel the sinking feeling in the bottom of my stomach when I opened it. I did not know it was possible to love and hate something so much all at the same time. I was excited that he had gotten me a surprise. Loved that it was a ring, I was into rings, I had one on each finger but I HATED the fact that it made me feel like I owed him something.

Now he had given me this beautiful ring I couldn't just break up with him when I went off to college. For me, it was always something. Always an excuse why I COULDN'T leave, even though I REALLY wanted to.

To make matters worse Impossible Dream Man (IDM) showed up at my party. Him and I had ALWAYS joked that he was going to come back for me when I turned 18 but I never... EVER believed that it was true. Yet there he was, I had turned 18 just a few weeks prior and there he was at my party.

He pulled me aside and told me that him and his girlfriend had broken up and my stomach just sank further. Inside, at my party, was DH and his mom and on my hand was this ring he had just given to me, yet standing in front of me was the man I really wanted to be with.

To this day I STILL kick myself for picking the way I did. I don't know if IDM and I would have ever even gone on one date. I don't know if we did if we would have liked each other. But I REALLY.... REALLY wish I would have given the ring back to DH and given it a shot. Now, I will never know.

05/11/98

Well, I'm still here, still with DH. Although I'm beginning to want out. I love him more than anything else in the world but what I want from him I'm afraid he can never give me. And every day it becomes harder and harder to leave but sometimes I want more.

He doesn't think pot is bad. He's a kid and I don't know if he'll ever realize that. He hasn't done it for a week but he says after high school he may go back to it. I don't think I can do that. If it's this hard to get out now, how hard will ti be later.

I love him, that I know but i hurt because of him. I wish there was no such thing as drugs and alcohol. I wish I never had to deal with this. Sometimes I wish I was dead. That way that hurting would stop.

What I want from him is forever; a clean forever. What will I get? Maybe a month. Tow or three more and I have to get out. Living like this is killing me. I want him, but I WANT HIM CLEAN!!

***************

I'm not even sure if I can express to you how much it hurts me to read these words. To know what my life became and to know that it took 11 more years of this and much, much worse for me to finally walk away.

11 years of my life and I will never know why. Why did I stay?

03/31/98

**I'm pulling this verbatim from my journal. I'm not sure how I can paraphrase it or make it sound any better than it was already written to be.**

Well it's been about four months since I last wrote anything. Four months of pure hell might I add. Yes, DH and I are still together. However he's not clean. Then why am I still with him? I ask myself that once a day, really I do.

But I love him, more than anything else in the world. But there are so many times I just think, I want out, God help me. But then I see him or I talk to him and I fall in love all over again. Without him I don't feel whole, but with him I often feel empty.

Right now I don't think he's talking to me because of the latest pot incident. I just wish so much he'd get his act together and at least stop lying to me. I love him, and nothing he can say or do, besides cheating on me, will make me love him any less.

Who knows, maybe that's the wrong attitude to have. Maybe I should just do what MIL says and drop him and find myself. But I don't want to. I want to love him, I do love him. And so life stays complicated, at least for now.

************************

If only I could go back. If only I could leave the journal where my mother could find it or someone... ANYONE who could shake that 17 year old me and tell me over and over that I am worth SO much more than that.

Somewhere, somehow I convinced myself that love was all that mattered. If I loved him then I HAD to stay with him. Oh how I wish I could take that back now....

The Ring

Somewhere along the way I had convinced myself that if DH gave me a ring, then it would mean that he was serious about me. That we were going to be together forever. Of course that's what giving a girl a ring means.

So I started dropping hints. Not subtle at all. Large hints. Elephant in the room hints that what I wanted for Christmas contained Emeralds and gold and could be warn on my finger.

Really subtle right?

So... imagine my surprise when on Christmas morning I opened a box and what did it contain. Why a ring with an Emerald in the center.

Broken Down

"I stopped by his house tonight and he was obnoxious right from the start. It was horrible. He told me he didn't want me there and that he had told me no before, which he didn't. Then he told me to go home. Then he told me I was at his house 24 hours a day.

He's the one who told me I could come to his house no matter whether he was there or not and that I was always welcome and now he's going back on that.

He embarrassed and hurt me in front of his parents and MS. It was awful and it still hurts thinking about it.

He basically told em I was a pest and a bother to him and he only wanted me there when it was convenient for him.

AND that hurts, more than he'll ever know.

The worst part is I can't cry: It hurts so much I can't cry."

College Choices

I can tell you right now that the number one reason I choose the school I did for college was because of it's proximity to my house. The fact that I ended up with a full ride scholarship there was a consolation prize.

I picked the school closest to DH first. But the cost was astronomical. So I picked the closest state school and ran with it. Looking back now I wonder what would have become of my life if I had the courage to venture a little farther. Attend a state school a bit farther away.

As it was, during this time I was looking at colleges but the only thing I was thinking was how do I find something that is the shortest distance away from where he will be.

Cuz Breaking Up is Hard to Do....

Another break up is listed here, in ye old journal and I can't help but wonder to myself why did we continue to do it. Did all teenagers break up this much so I just thought it was normal? This one lasted a whopping 6 hours. 3:30 PM - 9:30 PM.

His sister had poked holes in all of our condoms so we were in the throws of a baby scare at the time and he decided he wanted to be "free."

I, of course, was convinced I was pregnant and so I cried my eyes out for the tragedy of being a single mom and then two days later for the fact that I must have killed my baby in the throws of grief when my period came.

Seriously, are all teenagers this dramatic?

Family or Fun

Tonight was the night of his mom's birthday dinner. Tonight was one of the first nights I should have realized that to him, family ranked one notch below having fun with your friends.

11 years later I still remember this night. I called DH to ask him what time to show up, he tells me he's supposed to be there at 3:00 but he wants to do something fun first. 3:00 comes, 4:00 comes, 5:00 comes no one answers.

Finally at 5:00 I just call over to his Grandma's house where his family has gathered for the party. All of his family, except him. They tell me to come on over, he should be there soon. he went dirt bike riding with the neighbors.

It was 45 minutes later, after sitting there with his family wondering what the heck was going on that he finally called to tell them one of the bikes was broken. He should be there soon. More time passes and finally we eat dinner.

Another hour goes by, then two. All the while we heard nothing more from him. At 8:00 the search parties disperse. His dad goes one way, his mom and grandma another, me and his sister yet another. All of us worried something has happened.

It is 8:30 before he calls someone. 8:30 before he lets anyone know he is ok and then he is mad at us because we are all yelling at him. He has no concept, no understanding that someone might possibly be wondering where in the hell he ended up.

More of the Same

I remember thinking that once I slept with DH things would get better. He would be happier because I had done it. I would be happier because we would not be fighting about it, etc. However that was not the case at all. By the time I slept with him he already knew he didn't really want to be with me but to him, I was just another trophy. Another notch in the belt.

To me, it makes me angry that he would sleep with me, knowing it was my first time, if he didn't want to be with me. To him, I'm guessing the fact that I was a virgin never crossed his mind. Or perhaps it did....

Either way, things continued to go down hill. We went to prom together but ended up separate for 90% of after prom. He was with the girl he was cheating on me with and I was upstairs doing god knows what. Nothing like blatantly having your nose rubbed in it and turning a blind eye just the same.

I even went to his house the day after prom and slept with him again, for God only knows what reason, and this is when we had our first baby scare. I spent the next week completely alone and terrified. I am just weeks away from my 17th birthday and pretty sure that I'm pregnant and my "boyfriend" is treating me like dirt and running around with another girl.

Finally, I take the test and then within the week he breaks up with me...

Again....

At this point it is the 25th of April and I just shut down. I don't eat, I don't sleep, I just cry. I cry at home, I cry at school, I'm pretty much the epitome of pathetic. And ya know what? It works. He comes back to me on the 1st of May.

It is after that "reuniting of the soles" that I find out about the girl. The one he's been seeing on the side. And yet, I stay. I put my faith in him once again, throw myself into my new job, convinced that if I don't "bother" him so much things will be better, and I pretend that none of that ever happened.

Are you seeing a pattern here?

Giving it Up to Keep Him

After he tried to leave me at the end of March something inside me decided that I had to do whatever it took to get him to stay.

So I gave him my virginity.

Of course I did. Why wouldn't I? It was only the one thing that I could only give to one person and that I had been holding on to all this time. Why wouldn't I pick this moment, after he had already expressed an interest in breaking up with me to give it to him?

Whatever the reason, it happened. Life happened and sometime in the beginning of April he took something from me I could never get back.

The First Affair

By March our relationship was on the rocks. I still wouldn't sleep with DH and it was becoming fairly clear that not only would I not sleep with him but I also wouldn't drink or get high with him.

I went on a school trip in the end of March and while I was gone he started seeing a girl who was in the grade above me. He even took her to his parents house. I got back on the 30th of March and on the 31st he broke up with me. Sighting irreconcilable differences. (i.e. I was still annoying him and the break away from me didn't help.) (aka... I'm seeing someone else and think she might sleep with me and party with me so bye... bye... ta... ta... nice knowing you)

Once again, I couldn't take no for an answer. I spent that entire Monday looking as sad and pathetic as I could every time I saw him. I would cry and cry and pout and eventually he called me and asked me to go out with him again.

On April Fool's day. Who was the fool I ask you??

02/25/97

"On Saturday DH got arrested for trying to steal liquor. It was an awful day. And the worst part is, I'm still with him.

I couldn't leave. Even after I swore over and over that I'd be gone, I'm still there.

You know I love him more than I've ever loved anyone else. He is SO important to me, which is why it just kills me.

Every time I think about it it's like someone taking a knife and carving my heart out.

It's not fair! Life is not fair! God tested him and he lost and it's not fair!

What's also not fair is that he is a good kid. I mean it's not like he doesn't know what he did wrong, or he doesn't regret it. I feel SO bad for him. He's just so depressed about it."

Alcoholism is a disease. A disease that touches every person who knows and/or loves the alcoholic. That's all I can think when I read that. How quickly I got sucked into all of it. How I knew then that there was something bigger going on. Some reason he needed to steal and some reason he felt remorse about it when it was over.

Yet, in the end, what I also see is a mother. Someone taking him under her wing and trying to fix him. How did I go from girlfriend to mother?

Parental Defiance?

There is a line from my journal that I just read that stuck out at me:

"DH will have been clean 60 days. The same 60 days that we get to rub in my dad's face."

I don't remember an overwhelming desire to stay with DH because I wanted to prove my parents wrong but I wonder if there was a part of me that did. And if so, that scares me because I want to know how to keep from making the same mistake with my son.

How do I make it so he doesn't want to prove me wrong? So he doesn't stay with someone that makes him miserable just to be the one who is right?

12/05/96

In between every class DH and I meet in the hallway. He walks me to my classroom or I walk him to his. It's one of those things that teenagers do. Something that says I can't live a whole hour without you... here's another kiss to remember me by.

I remember the taste. The smell. Something I'd never smelled before. I asked him what it was. Nothing, nothing at all. I was in shop class, it's exhaust from a car. Somehow I knew that wasn't true. I still remember where we were standing. 2nd floor, top of the stairs, right outside of my Spanish class. 12 1/2 years later and it's still with me.

I don't quite remember who told me he'd been caught. How I got the news that my boyfriend was suspended from school for smoking pot in the shop bathroom. But I know I found out. I know my parents found out. I remember having to sit down with them and DH's parents in his kitchen and have a discussion about it. Explain to them that he was suspended and was spending time in a rehab facility.

I also remember the fear. That they were going to make me break up with him. But they didn't and I couldn't. All I wrote in my journal was "it's a long story and I would rather not discuss it right now." That seemed to be my standard answer. To shut down and keep the status quo.

Even now looking back I'm not sure what happened. I don't know why 2 1/2 months into a relationship I would choose to stay with someone like DH when that was not at all who I was or what I wanted from my life. All I know is I stayed, I always stayed.

Perhaps that's the magic answer. I wanted someone to love me no matter what and I thought in order to get that I had to give that. I just picked the wrong person to give it to.

11/30/96

Two and a half months in and we are already discussing breaking up and not being able to live without one another.

I remember this conversation. I remember talking to him about boundaries, the equator line I called it. I remember needing him so much and not being able to process why. Two and a half months in and we couldn't get past the no sex thing.

This is where it really started for us. Him wanting to leave and me wanting him to stay. I wrote in my journal that he thought about leaving me and that I "hyperventilated and banged my head against a wall." I think this is the crutch that it all comes back to.

He wanted to go, I begged him to stay and we were miserable together. For 12 1/2 years it was this way or the reverse, I wanted to leave and he begged me to stay. Twelve and a half years of co-dependency and misery started way back in the end of 1996.

11/28/96

Thanksgiving Day. We hang out with my parents in the evening and on my way to take him back home, he still doesn't have a license so I drive him everywhere, he wants me to stop on a gravel road. I refuse and I'm pretty sure there are words.

"He wanted me to stop along a gravel road and I said no. It pissed him off I think. He seems to be getting more anxious and upset every time I am being good. I hate to think he's using me for sex because he knows he won't get anything but he's getting worse and it's hard to deal with. It hurts and it bugs me."

At this point we had been dating just over two months. Looking back at it is hard. Knowing where things went, how things happened. I want to reach back to that scared girl and tell her that if all a man wants you for is sex there are so many better things out there in this world.

11/16/96

Pretty pathetic, we've only been going out for two months, exactly yesterday, and I'm already head over heals in love with him. He's just like my best friend/boyfriend all in one. It's pretty cool. I mean when I look at him I just smile because he's just so cool and sucha great person (without the drugs) and I love him SOO much.

I mean this is so different then me and L. We're buds and then more.

All I can do is just stare at that. Two months and I was willing to change my whole life, my whole world for him even AFTER knowing that he did drugs. And all I can do is sit here, my current me, and wonder why. Why didn't I just walk away? What was two months? Why couldn't I just let go?

11/12/1996

I had no sooner forgiven him than he was back at it again. On this night he went to a friends house and went out into the wood and got stoned on pot. Ok, two thing pop into my mind as I'm reading this.

#1 Where were his parents? If my 15 year old son had just come home drunk two weeks prior you can be damn sure he would probably still be grounded. And if he wasn't I would still be keeping a pretty good eye on him.

#2 Where were my parents? Did I hide this that well? Again, Catholic school is running through my head.

#3 WTF? Two months and all of my morals and ideals had just flown out the window? Really? I had gone from dating the guy who wanted to become a preacher to this? Why after two months did I REALLY love him enough to go through hell with him?

This night was the first night I learned the payoff of hurting myself. Not only to me as a frustration release but also as an attention getter. This was the night that I first cut myself. Not badly, like most cutters, but more of a scratching at my skin as a way to escape what had become my quickly deteriorating reality.

DH found out and we made a pact to both get better together. "Basically I'm not allowed to cut or injure myself anymore and he's not allowed to smoke, drink or chew. If he does any of it again he holds a knife to my wrists and cuts. Basically if he smokes, etc. it's like cutting me because he's giving me open range. I don't know if this will work but I love him so much that, I have to and am willing to, try anything."

This makes my heart heavy just to type it. Some part of me needed him that badly that I was willing to sacrifice myself just to try to help him. Something I would spend the next 10 1/2 years trying to do before I realized once and for all that I could not help him, only he could help himself.

And the Walls Come Tumbling Down

DH came home drunk tonight. On this night my world fell around my feet. "He never stopped chewing, drinking or smoking pot. He had lied to me about it all plus he had lied to me about some other things. It hurt me SO bad. But I met with his counselor and his family"

Wait… wait… wait…. Stop the train. I did what? I'd been dating the guy a month and a half I was 16 years old, please why didn’t someone stop me? The phrase walk away is just repeating over and over in my head right now. But somewhere, some how I had decided that I didn't want to fail. That I could fix him, and so I stayed. According to my journal because "I loved him so very much."

I swear if my father would have known half of this stuff he would have locked me away in a catholic school. (Or at least that's what I would be thinking if I were the parent.)

10/07/1996

Three weeks, one day and already I'm writing in my journal about how he's my best friend. MW and I had been friends for YEARS, we did everything together and already I was so willing to just shove someone else in her place. Why? What was I needing?

This whole entry in my journal is all about the angst between me and my sister. About how she was telling me that people don't like me and I, of course was letting her get under my skin. So I called DH and he made me feel so much better.

Is that what I was needing? Acceptance? I was sort of an outcast. Refused to do what it took to be part of the popular group but was just a little to popular to totally fit in with the nerds. Did I just need to fit somewhere and once I found it with him I didn't want to let it go?

10/06/1996

Today was our three week "anniversary" and it was all about the sweet talk. I wrote in my journal that "we had a rough night last night but tonight we talked and worked everything out. He understands that I don't want too much to happen and he's O.K. with that.

He said he loves me for me and that's not what he wants. I mean I know he wants it but not if I don't. He's being so sweet. I just talked to him on the phone and he said he almost cried when I left tonight because he misses his baby. He's hooked, bad.

And, he quit chewing for me which is like so great. He knew I didn't like it but I told him I was O.K. with it & he quit anyway. That makes me SO happy."

Reading this just makes me cringe. DH ALWAYS knew just what to say to me to keep me hooked. I can't believe that I was that naive. He told me he was quiting and I believed him, just like that. I guess I had no reason not to. I didn't know at the time how good he was a lying about things. He always knew just what would make me feel better and be ok with how things were.

The other thing that bothered me about that whole situation was the fact that I ever told him it was ok in the first place. Three weeks into our relationship and I was already so determined to "make it work" that I was compromising my values. Why not just say I don't approve of that and walk away? It was only three weeks.

10/05/1996

Merely three weeks into our relationship and DH had already begun with the sweet talk. By this point he had told me he loved me, probably mostly in an effort to get into my pants, and it wasn't working and he was frustrated.

I wrote in my journal about having a long talk with him about waiting until marriage and trying to enforce boundaries with him. This would become the topic of many more arguments in the future. I dated L for 9 months and spent the entire last two months TRYING to get him to have sex with me and now suddenly I was with DH and I was totally flipping my position.

I think somewhere, in the back of my mind, I knew that if I had sex with him our relationship would probably be over and I was not willing to let that happen. I wasn't willing to open up my eyes wide enough to see what he really wanted, which wasn't a long term plan with me.

Loss of a Pet

Four days after we officially became an item my dog died. It was a tragic day that I will never forget. I got a call from the office that I needed to meet my mom outside right away but no one would tell me why. So I went outside and stood on the corner waiting for her.

She pulled up in her old beat up car and as soon as I looked in the window I knew something was terribly wrong. There on the front seat sat my beloved dog. My puppy whom I got as a present for my 16th birthday was there but something was not right.

When I looked closer I noticed the blood and then the bone. His hip bone was sticking through the skin and out of his body. For such a serious injury I remember thinking that there should be more blood.

When I got into the car he tried to get closer to me and he wimpered in pain. By this point I was crying. What was going on? As we headed to the vet's office my mom explained to me that he had been following a trailer out back to the dump pile and he had tried to "heal" the tire. He got a little too close and had been rolled under the trailer.

The whole way there I kept thinking that he wasn't bleeding too badly, the doctor would just fix his hip and we would go on our way. However, when we got there the vet informed us that my puppy was parilized from the waist down. That even if he fixed the injury he would never walk again and that for this breed of dog with such high energy it would be devistating.

Then I had to choose. Let him live with no quality of life, or watch him go. This wonderful dog that I hadn't had nearly enough time with. The one that I got happy meals for and who slept with me and went every where with me.

As I sat there crying holding his head the vet gave him the shot. Then we wrapped him in a towel and took him home to be burried. I remember as soon as we got home Impossible Dream Man (IDM) was waiting for me. He was crying and I hugged him as he told me how sorry he was.

I should have stayed. Taken the rest of the day off, mourned my loss, but instead all I could think of was getting back to school. Back to DH. I was back by lunch time but the reaction I got was not one of sympathy or compassion. It was simply, wow, that sucks. Ok, I'm going to sit with my friends now.

As soon as he said it, as soon as I knew that was all I was getting I wanted to run back home and crawl into bed. But, I had comitted to being there that afternoon so I stayed and pretended nothing was wrong even though inside I was dying. I stuffed it down and decided to be strong instead.

09/17/1996

After two days of being in school and being a couple I was convinced that we were meant to be together. I wrote in my journal that "it is unlike any other relationship I've had. Which could be a good thing, I suppose, because none of the other relationships lasted very long. This one's like me and R's which lasted 7 years so I guess this is a very good thing. […] Although both sets of our friends know about us we don't hang on each other or anything."

We don’t hang on each other, looking back I find this funny. We met in between every class to see each other for just that brief 5 seconds and any other times I was too busy to notice that he was too busy with his friends to notice me.

Going Out

After the exciting homecoming dance it was up bright and early to go horseback riding with DH's family. I had been horseback riding since I was younger and even after my accident had never given it up. However, this would only be the second time that I had actually been on horseback riding trails, etc. Most of my riding was confined to fields and roadsides.

We loaded up my horse in the trailer and were off for the "park." DH and I rode in the morning and then in the afternoon we told his parents we were going to skip the afternoon ride and just hang out in "camp."

His dad had a large work van that we had used to pull the horse trailer and I remember that we were sitting on the bumper of the van with the back doors open. DH turned to me and said, so do you want to go out? It was as simple as that. I said yes and the deed was done.

Until we got married, this was always the day that we celebrated as our anniversary. We picked our wedding day as close to this day as we could. When we were married we had officially been "going out" for 7 years and 5 days. (With a few breakups along the way.)

Homecoming

So I went to the homecoming dance with some friends and DH went with my sister's friend. As most things were when I was in high school it was a night of drama. Two of my best friends were crying through most of the dance and I only got one dance with DH.

After the dance my sister's friend was spending the night with her so DH didn't have to take her home, or rather his mom didn't have to come pick them up since he didn't have a license. So DH decided to come home with me. Ooops. Talk about awkward.

We got home first and were sitting there on the couch talking with my parents when my sister and her friend walked in. So there I was with her date. Luckily it was late and DH left shortly there after and I went to bed.

Bonfire

As was the tradition at our school during homecoming week there was one night where there was a big bonfire. It was sort of a pep rally type of a thing. This was the night that my sister's friend found out about DH and I. I think up until this point she had thought that he was really taking her because he wanted to go with her, not because he just didn't have a date.

While I really wanted to be with DH I remember feeling kind of bad that night as I pulled out of the parking lot and saw her talking to my sister, all upset. When my sister got in the car she told me the story.

I'm pretty sure the words she used were not nice, as this was her friend and when we were in high school, I was not.

09/08/1996

Today was the day of mass confusion. I was still high on life from my first "date" with DH but really bummed that I would not be able to go to the homecoming dance with him. He had already agreed to go with my sister's friend and my mom told me that if he didn't go with her he wasn't going with me.

My mom didn't think that it was polite or appropriate for him to dump her a week before the dance simply because we had decided we wanted to "date." At the time I thought that was extremely unfair. Why should he have to go with her when we were going to be together. Now, I look back and fully understand the wisdom of my mother's choice.

I just wish that at that time I had thought about what kind of man he would be. If he was willing to leave his date hanging a week before the dance how reliable would he be for me? But I was 16, I was young and "falling in love" and that was the furthest thing from my mind.

I wrote in my journal that I was "so confused I just wanted to scream. Nothing was working out and DH ad I and whatever we have are stuck in the middle." What did we have? I had been to his house once? Why was I so "stuck??"

First "Date"

I ended up going to DH's mom's party. Of course I did. I remember when I arrived that there was no one there I knew. The party was a surprise so DH, his mom, dad and sister were out horseback riding.

Everyone else had gathered for the surprise for when they got home. So I just wandered around out back telling anyone that asked me that I was DH's friend and he had invited me and all the while trying to just blend in to the scenery.

FINALLY, DH and his family arrived. We yelled surprise and then it was time for the party to start. DH found me right away and we started to talk and of course flirt with each other. The party was out behind their house and so we headed up to the house and sat on the front porch swing.

Before long we were holding hands and then we started talking about the homecoming situation. We both liked each other but my sister's friend was in the picture. DH was, at that time, a smooth talker. He was much more experienced than me in the "sexual" arena having lost his virginity at 13 so he seemed to know all the "right" things to say to turn a girls head, so to speak.

He told me I was beautiful and gorgeous and then, by this point we had moved into the basement and were sitting on the couch, he ASKED if he could kiss me. For as long as I live I will never forget that moment. Him leaning in and asking if he could kiss me, me saying yes and us sharing that first tentative kiss.

I wrote in my journal that "his kisses were tender and with feeling." They reminded me of my impossible dream man (IDM). A man I had only kissed once but continue to dream about to this day. Perhaps that's why once I latched on to DH it was so hard to let go.

First Impression

It was this night, so many years ago that started everything. This night, this choice that changed the entire direction of my life.

I was a football manager for several weeks before DH approached me. We had a game on this night and he asked if I could give him a ride home. I knew he was a year younger than me and so I figured that he just didn't have his license yet.

Knowing that he lived only a few miles from me I agreed to take him home. We started talking on the way home and somehow, being the blunt person that I am, I directed the conversation to the phone call a few weeks prior.

I don't remember the exact words but somehow the conversation became about how he wanted to ask me but didn't know if I would say yes and me saying that I would have said yes if he would have just asked me.

And then we were stuck. The dance was in a week and he had already asked MB. It was like that torn teenage angst where we felt this pull to each other for some unknown reason but couldn't be together. You always want what you can't have right?

Either way, sitting in his driveway, he asked me to come to his mom's birthday party the next day. I remember seeing the invitation come in the mail but my parents were not close with his parents and we figured that the invitation was just a formality.

So, I told him I would talk to my mom and dad about it and let him know the next day. That choice, that decision to go, or not go, was my fork in the road. My journey down a totally different path in life.

Could it be?

We were in the hospital, visiting someone. I can't remember now who it was, possibly my grandma. I remember the phone ringing and my mom saying that it was DH asking to talk to my sister.

DH was a neighbor of ours. He lived about 5 miles away. We had ridden the bus with him for a few years and just recently I had spoken with him a few times during football practice. See this year, I had decided to be a football manager, a girl I knew in band was one and said they needed another one and asked if I would be willing to do it.

I had always liked football on some level and a guy that I dated in 1995 was in football so I remember watching him play, so I said yes.

I remember when my mom said that it was DH on the phone there was a part of me that was really hoping he was calling to ask ME to the homecoming dance. I had thought about asking him but I was too chicken to ask a boy to the dance. However, at that moment I realized that I really wanted him to ask me.

But it was not to be. Apparently, my sister had asked him to go with a friend of hers but he had told her no, said that he was asking a girl from another school. But apparently that had not worked out so he had called to get my sister's friend's number from my sister. This girl had liked him for a long time and since he didn't have a date he had decided to ask her. Why not me I kept thinking. But what could I do about it?

It's not like I had ever really talked to him much beyond saying hi. Let alone flirted with him or given him any reason to think I was interested. Oh well, I figured. I would just go with my friends as planned.

Pinky Swear

The summer after L and I broke up I started falling for the IDM (Impossible Dream Man) or otherwise known as the pinky swear man. To this day, if that man were to walk into my house and tell me he wanted to sleep with me I can't tell you that I wouldn't shuffle him straight up to my bedroom.

I don't know what it is about him, he's not particularly drop dead gorgeous and I know very little about him in the sense that you know someone you date but I would leave my whole life behind in a heartbeat for him.

That summer we were working together. I was 16 and he was 24 and I had decided that I needed to have him for my very own. Now once I make up my mind to something, I'm pretty hard to deter so I dropped hints MERCILESSLY for the entire month of June. Daring him to kiss me. Calling him a chicken because he wouldn't. Dressing as provocatively as I could given that we were doing manual labor.

Finally one day we were in a tack room and he closed the door. I thought for SURE that would be the day but at the last minute he said, I can't... your parents would kill me. So I razzed him. For the next 30 minutes or so until we got to another barn that we were loading at.

For the rest of my life that will stay with me. He kissed me and I felt like I was floating on air. He stopped, started to walk away, turned around and kissed me again. The ONLY physical contact we have had was on that one day and yet it is forever burned into my memory. I didn't write one single thing about it in my diary. Only that I pinky swore about something and just that phrase brings the whole day back.