We spent our second anniversary at the beach, with my sister. By this time, he couldn't function without coke. Me, still oblivious, but knew that something made him a different person sometimes. I always thought it was pot. I never knew the truth about it until we split up. He started to hate me on that trip. He didn't even sleep in bed with me in the hotel on the way down to Virginia. When we got there, he didn't want to do anything with me. I spent time with my sister. She took us out for our anniversary. He didn't even wish me happy anniversary. No card. Didn't thank my sister for dinner, nothing. He laid around on the couch. When we went to the beach he thought it was hilarious to push me into the waves when I told him I would drown from being so tired. It wasn't just playing around.
He made us leave two days early. I assumed later he ran out of drugs. I cried to my sister because I didn't want to leave. And, I knew somehow that we were over. Things had changed so drastically between us that there weren't any feelings from him at all. I could tell he hated me. The 10 hour trip was mostly silent.
The second we got home, he was out the door to his friends house. "Why do I have to stay here, we spent a week together". A couple times here and there he went golfing. One time it poured down rain, and he still insisted he golfed. I got in his trunk, and his clubs were dry, he said he had an umbrella and he dried them. I opened his umbrella, which, was bone dry. Two weeks later he left me. He came home from work, and told me he didn't love me anymore. He didn't want to be married. He was too young. He didn't want all the responsibility of what we had. He had left me before, and always come back. I thought he would come back again. A week after he left he told me he wanted a dissillusionment. He'd been talking to some guys at work. It's fast, and easy. Didn't want a separation. He was done. It was over. Whenever he would come over to get his things, or talk about who got what, I would beg him to come home. Literally, I begged. Please love me. Please come home. I can't be without you. I'm nothing. How could you leave me? I miss you. I love you. Don't you love me? Why don't you want me? He would leave every time I cried. He couldn't stand to see what I had become. Neither could I.
That was when my world fell apart. I've never again felt so low in all of my life. I didn't eat for weeks. I didn't deserve it. I lost the only man I could remember loving. I dropped 30 lbs in no time. I didn't bathe. I didn't wash my hair. I couldn't work. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't leave the house. I cried so much that I broke blood vessels in my eyes. My throat was raw. I never stopped thinking about him. Never. It consumed my every thought. I missed a lot of work. Mom kept begging me to get help. I got on antidepressants. I literally had to have assignments on how to care for myself.
"This week Mon, You are going to take a bath."
"Yes, Sitting in the bathtub is good. You don't have to wash, just get in the tub."
I remember sitting in the water and crying. Thinking, all you have to do is pick up the soap. It seemed so simple. I didn't feel like I deserved to be clean. I was worthless to D, I was worthless to me. My friends had to literally make me leave the house. Asking didn't work. I hid from the world. I didn't want to be out. I wanted to die. The only thing keeping me alive was thinking that he might come back. That was all I could think about.
I didn't know how to live without him. We lasted almost 8 years. That was a lifetime to me. How do you get past that? Me? I got another man. It seemed right at the time, it was a distraction. Something to boost my confidence. We got a separation before the divorce went through, and I met Z after 2 months of thinking I would die of lonlieness. The way he made me feel when he touched me, made me forget all about asshole who left me. They knew each other. They hated each other. D felt the need to protect me from Z. I really thought I was going to get him back. D did come back, a few times, just to have sex. I thought, he must still love me. Silly me. It was different, unfeeling. Rough, but not in a good way. It was wrong.
The whole time we were going through our divorce which was only about 4 months, it wasn't until the day we stood in front of that judge, that I really accepted it was over. Even then I thought he would tell me he made a mistake. Silly girl. The day before I was still begging him to reconsider. My mom gave me some kind of nerve pill and I didn't give two shits about him that day. I put on a happy face, and wouldn't hug him when he wanted to after the hearing. Divorced, at 23. Who would want me? I'm marked. I spent a good portion of my life in bars. Distracting myself from reality. It was my youth, alchoholism is in my family. It never has affected me to the point that it controlled me one bit, but I had other issues with addiction. Mainly food. Some drugs. Funny how that works.
It was a really bad time in my life. I lost my husband. Next, I lost my job, because I was unable to work. I would sleep at work, because I couldn't sleep at home. I wouldn't get out of bed for days. I lost my car, I couldn't afford it so I had to call to have them repo it. We filed bankruptcy, I got the house, and I was determined to keep it, but I only made 8.50 an hour which is like poverty when your trying to keep up a house. I went through a foreclosure. Next, my mom moved out of state. I had nothing. I felt so totally alone, and I didn't know how to live on my own. I couldn't. I never had! I wanted to move in with Bubba, but she ended up living with her boyfriend, and I had no choice but to live with Z. Or give up my pets, which were my only source of comfort to me at the time, and live alone, in the ghetto. That was an even worse 2 years. Filled with even more drama. But I had been through enough to make me stronger, tougher. I didn't let it hurt me as much.
I lost some friends through that divorce. Ones that I thought were truely my friends, but keeping in contact with D was more important to them. In retrospect, it wasn't a loss at all, but at the time it felt like more fuel added to the fire of my burning life. My true friends stuck with me. They helped me get back to being myself. I started to remember what fun was. I did things on my own eventually, and realized that it was pretty fun to not answer to anyone. That was when the working so much started. I was a temp at my current job, and they got a new computer system. All the old info wouldn't transfer, it all had to be re-entered. I worked 15-16 hour days here, 7 days a week. I made some sweet cash flow! That's also when I started having problems with Z. He had to control my every move. He would turn out to be worse than D ever was. But I tolerated it because I had already known abuse. It was normal.
To this day I have trouble with non-abusive relationships. I feel unfulfilled at times. I miss the drama. I sometimes try to cause my own. I feel most of the time that no one gets all that I've been through, and most peoples problems seem petty to me. I lack compassion, because of my past. That is something I want to change about myself. People always try to give me advice about marriage, as if I havn't been there, or about men, as if I havn't seen the worst. I know what's out there.
I've pretty much shut off my emotions, and I only let them peek through once in a while. I was made fun of for crying. Getting excited, being happy, being sad. I wasn't allowed to have emotions, without being made fun of. I find it hard to do this at all for myself. I can cry for my pets, or TV, but I can't feel any pity for myself. I believe whatever is making me upset, I somehow deserve. It's hard. So, now you see why I love Edwin's Sign On The Door. It's me.
"Wendy's sitting next to me trying hard to drink it away. Her eyes are screaming. Her lips are pursed. This aint her first heartache, but it feels like the worst. She said, can someone tell me how this can happen? I guess God only knows. My heart use to be a sweet shop of love, but now the sign on the door say's sorry, we're closed......she's been through all the pain that one can endure, and her new man thinks she loves him, but he can't be sure. And his heart pines for Wendy, she says that's how it goes. How am I spose to know you can't read the sign saying sorry we're closed"