I was getting along really well with my parents. My mom was helping with the kids and my step dad let me know that blood or not, I was his daughter. I felt good about that and I loved him very much. I thought I was doing well, I was working, paying my bills, volunteering, socializing with friends. I didn’t recognize that I was not giving my boys enough of my time.
One Friday a friend of mine called while I was at the hospital doing some volunteering, she wanted me to meet up with her and her boyfriend at a bar near my house and they had a friend with them. I wasn’t looking for a boyfriend and I’m not even sure why I went. I decided I would just change my shirt and let my hair down. I threw on some mascara on the way but wasn’t really concerned about him even liking me.
At the bar when I met the guy they were trying to fix me up with I had mixed feelings. I felt something on the inside but he was shy and the silky shirt was less than desirable. Out of the blue he tried to kiss me and I almost hauled off and punched him. What the??? We barely talked but apparently his friend thought I was “into him” so he should move in. Ummm what? I’m not ok with unsolicited touching, hugging or being in close proximity to strangers. I have to initiate that sort of thing.
We ended up running into some friends of a friend and they invited all of us back to their house. Now these people are strange in the way of the possible swinging type…I think. They showed us around their renovated basement and I’m not exaggerating, their porn shower! You could fit probably 10 people in it, it had a long bench and several heads. It got very awkward at that point so I suggested we leave. It was very late anyway. We walked out and the guy hugged me goodbye, I don’t usually like that but it felt amazing. It wasn’t a sleazy hug, it felt so genuine and comforting. I didn’t want to let go, I had never felt so good.
The guys left and I went home. I didn’t stop thinking about him. I don’t think I slept. I know he was driving about 5 hours out of town to sell his drums the next day so didn’t think I would hear from him. My friend and I got together the next day and told her that I liked him but I didn’t even get his number. I wouldn’t call him even if he had given me his number, I always wait for a guy to call first. Shortly after she picked me up her boyfriend called her and asked if we would like to get together that night, the four of us. This was a little shocking to me since I knew he had driven 10 hours round trip that day. Of course I said yes and was a little excited.
After our day out I went home and had to decide what I was going to wear. I knew that I wanted to fix myself up a little more than I had the night before but I didn’t want to try too hard. I decided on jeans and a T-shirt with something written across the chest. I guess I thought my breasts were the only thing I had going for me. All we planned to do was watch a movie at my friends house anyway, it didn’t matter what I wore. However, I did throw on some make up and fixed my hair this time.
Ok, so he barely spoke to me and I thought he didn’t like me. He must be here out of obligation. Later, I caught him staring at my chest and doing the thing where you try to accidentally touch a shoulder, leg, hand, etc. Hmmmm….
I wanted to know him so I decided I would ask him togo somewhere and talk. He agreed so we drove (separately) to the nearby commuter lot and he got into my car. He actually talked to me then and I liked him, he was easy to talk to. It was getting late and I needed to get home so I started to suggest we leave when I leaned over and kissed me. A real kiss and OH MY GOD! I felt a pulse of electricity fly through all my extremities. I had never felt anything like it and I wanted to feel it again! So, I just told him “Do that again” and he did. Holy shit, it was amazing! I definitely wanted to see him again.
I can’t remember how but we ended up going out the next Thursday night and again that weekend. I fell in love with him very quickly and we started talking about the future. We both agreed on kids, I didn’t want anymore and he didn’t want his own. Perfect!
Everything was great and he even got along well with the boys. I was actually really happy until I guess it was the following March, 7 months. I started feeling antsy or insecure, not sure. I knew I felt like I couldn’t be with him enough, I lost my mind. It was too good so I think I was testing him when I had an episode and threatened to break up. I didn’t want to break up!! WTF? I think it’s just easier for me to act like I didn’t want or need him so he couldn’t hurt me. In retrospect, this was a pattern for me….as soon as they get close I turn into a demon. I knew I wanted him and would have been devastated to lose him. He’s an over achiever…he gave me the diamond he was going to have made into ring. He should have just broke up with me. I was poisonous and cursed.
We ended up selling our houses, getting married and moving into a new beautiful home in just a little over a great from when we met. None of the boys wanted to move but my oldest son was in high school and I understood. I let him move in with his dad so he could stay in his school, it broke my heart into a million pieces. I loved my boys so much and I just really wanted the family life. I thought it would be nice to maybe just be normal for a change. I was really hurting which upset my husband and he took it out on the boys. He blamed them for hurting me. He didn’t physically hurt them, just didn’t get close to them. His relationship with them was tense from the moment on.
I knew that if I had been a better mother they would want to be with me. My oldest came to visit every other weekend until he could drive then he mostly just hung out with friends. Our house was not the place to be and the younger boys started staying with their friends more and more. I was very depressed, my vision of a happy family was crushed. I started having episodes more frequently again, it really put a strain on my marriage and my relationship with the kids. I tried to go to therapy but I never told the whole story. Everyone just thought I was depressed because so many of my family had died, I didn’t want anyone to know that I was fucked up since childhood.
My middle son did very well in school, he got good grades and was very smart. He didn’t get into any trouble and he even got Student of the Month. It felt good that he had been chosen out of 800 other kids. My youngest still did not care about school, he didn’t do his work and I’m pretty sure he didn’t go all the time. He got into trouble a lot. My husband was really irritated with him and they had a mutual hate for each other. When my middle son left for college my youngest moved in with his friends family.
I had been a terrible mother, none of my kids wanted to be around me and my husband was ready to give up. I kept having more and more episodes until finally he had enough and said I had to get help. He always looked like the bad guy to all my friends, they only knew the fun girl in the mask. It just seemed like he was the bad guy to everyone. They couldn’t have been more wrong, he was constantly trying to get me to talk and getting to protect me. He could have just left but he wanted me to get better.
I went to a psychiatrist that diagnosed me with bipolar disorder, I was put on medication to control the mood highs and lows. My friends noticed that I wasn’t my usual fun self and it hurt me when they said I was better before. I was doing what I had to. I had found some other friends through my neighbor and they took me on like we had known each other forever. There was never any drama with them and it was always a very supportive group. It helped but I didn’t tell them all of my pain. I kept taking the medicine for a while but I was still depressed so finally he got me into a therapist in his office. Is wasn’t a good fit but had to do something. Over several weeks with her I told her of the marital trouble, kids trouble and then she started asking about my past. I told her about the deaths and my love/hate relationship with my mother. She kept pushing deeper and one day I just broke down. I completely lost it and finally just let it out. I told her my older brother had molested me for 6 years. She walked me through it but it was so hard to talk about.
The therapist urged me to tell my husband. I told her that when I told my mother at 15, I was accused of lying and told I was crazy and that it drove me to attempt suicide. I could not go through that again and what if he was disgusted and left me? I was sure he could never love me let alone touch me ever again. It took me weeks before I got the nerve to tell him. I just rambled it out really fast one night and didn’t look at him. He did not react at all like how I had pictured. He was mad, not at me, at my brother but most of all my mother. He told me he loved me and it changed nothing between us, he would support me and protect me.