Finding Herself In Them / Losing Themselves In Her

Finding Herself in Him

Let's begin with him. I met David, my now ex husband when I was 18. We dated for 4 years, were married for 16 and created two beautiful and amazing children together. We fought. A lot. Neither wanting to give up, because no one get's married expecting to get divorced. We tried couples counseling on and off for 12 years. I knew it was simply a bandaid holding us together just long enough to make it to the next appointment. So many things happened in such a small window of time. My father, who had been married to my mom for over 30 years, waited until she had a hair appointment to skip town, leaving a three sentence letter in his absence. He had been preparing his cowardly escape for weeks. I still remember the call. Mom was hystirical on the phone. She just kept yelling and crying "you're dad, he's gone." He never said goodbye to me or my sister and never kissed his grandkids one last time. But what should I have expected? He did it to his two previous wives and the 5 sons he had between the two of them. When you look at the longevity of him sticking around compared to the others, I'd say he really put himself out for us. The hint of sarcasm was thick at the end of that last sentence.  It was when I went to speak to the counselor that me and David used for couples to discuss the issues I was facing with my dad leaving that made me think. His words still come to me when I'm drifting through the never ending flood of crap that floats around in my head. His words were simple and to the point. "How is your marriage?" "not great." I responded. He then said something I wasn't expecting nor did I think my response would follow so fast, without even having to think about it. He said "do you think he loves you? Do you think he wants to change and make it work". Before he could finish his last question, my response was "Yes! Dave loves me and the kids more than anything, he would do anything for us" The counselor pursed his lips together slowly shook his head and began to look away, while saying "uh huh, I believe you are probably right" then he said "the problem isn't that people don't want to change, some just can't." He looked at me and said again, "some can't". I waited two more years trying to make it work before I left for the last time.

Now I often think about how much of the divorce had to do with the unknown, what I later thought was bipolar traits that were starting to present themselves? I started picking up strange behaviors. I was getting fixated on things. I started restoring furniture. I just thought it was a fun, constructive, outlet. The thing was that I started letting it consume me. I was spending nearly no time with my family. Not helping out with the house. Just spending all of my time in the garage. Soon I noticed I was never tired. I again thought it was because of my new passion. I would work in the garage until 3 or 4 in the morning. Sleep for an hour or two, go to work, barely make it out without falling asleep, then I would have this burst of energy and back to my hobby I'd go. This pattern went on for about a year. It was terrible. I began to eat a lot late at night. I was drinking more than I ever had and I was all over the place.

By the time I left Dave, my brain was spinning. I couldn't get it to slow down. Right after the divorce finalized, COVID hit. I had to move in with my mom and friends were dropping like flies. I was alone, fucking alone. At this point in my life I did not do good alone. I was up all night, all the time. Driving reckless, contemplating suicide, and not being able to get my brain to slow down. I needed help, but I didn't know what that meant. Where do you go for help when you just can't handle what's happening in your life? I finally checked myself into a mental health facility. What happened next is what changed my life and ultimately created the path I needed to take in order to find myself.