My story

Most of you know me. You know a lot about my story. But I'm going to tell it anyway, so get ready. lol

I grew up like any typical LDS girl. Went to seminary, went to young womens, learned the lessons everyone else did. Find a returned missionary, get married in the temple and live happily ever after. And I did. I did everything the way we're taught to do them. I did everything right. And somehow, along the road, it all fell apart.

I got married March 15, 2003 in the Columbia, SC LDS temple. Things were .... definitely NOT happy ever after. I moved to an entirely different state, no family, no friends. Depression quickly set in, problems arose, in-laws interfered, and things got worse. Occasionally, we'd have good times. Things wouldn't be HORRIBLE, but they'd just be okay. Then we had a baby. Oh, how I loved being a mommy. I didn't have to work, I stayed home and took care of my sweet baby. And she had parents who just adored every little thing she did. Time went by, and baby number two came along. When he was about 6 months old, things took a turn for the worst. We both began shutting down. Mine was from post-partum depression. I don't know what his excuse was. Medical intervention was necessary. I started seeing about as many doctors as you can possibly see to get help for depression, and thought I was making improvements.

I knew things weren't right. I knew we had some big problems. But I thought we would be okay, because I was doing everything I could think of make it better. You see, HE was never to blame for the problems. Ever. It was always me. I wasn't doing this right, I didn't do this enough, if I would get better, HE could get better. We bought a bigger house. We moved to a new ward. But guess what, it didn't change.

In August, that's when the proverbial crap hit the fan. His dad became violently ill - a slow, constant sickness that just built up and got worse over a couple month's time. I had been working, and on my very last day of working at the spa, I got word that my father in law had been admitted to the hospital for the second time in a week. More testing was done, and the morning after he was admitted, he was taken in for surgery. It didn't go well and he never woke up. He spent about a week and a half in the ICU on life support, every nurse, every doctor trying every medicine and idea they could come up with to bring him back. Sadly, he passed away on the 12th. It was heartbreaking, unexpected and a big blow to the entire family. Of all of my in-laws, he was definitely my favorite one. He was the ONLY one who accepted me as I came. I loved that man. And he was gone. Even as heartbroken and devastated as I was, I knew it was only a grain of sand on a beach in comparison to how my (then) husband felt. He and his dad had a connection that is seldom achieved by many parents and children. They understood each other in a way no one else did. They weren't much for showing affection or even talking that often, but there was an unbreakable bond. With the death of his dad, came the death of his functioning. He stopped showering. He started sleeping when he wasn't working. He stopped eating. On and on this went, for weeks. Months. He decided during all this that I still wasn't measuring up to what he wanted me to be, and so I was put through a "boot camp" of sorts to teach me how to be a better wife, mother and house keeper. I was under the impression it was just his sister in law being nice, showing me how to keep my head about me. Looking back now, it was all to try to change ME. Like I was something broken that needed to be fixed.

September rolled around and I went to Texas to visit one of my best friends. In the turmoil of my father in law's death, the "boot camp", the changes, the depression, the problems - it was not the best of trips. I loved the time I spent driving. I would drive across the country and back just for the fun of it, if I could. I attempted to go home early, after 2 trips to the urgent clinic determined I had two VERY sick children and when I told this to my (then) husband, the answer I got was, "I'm not ready for you to come home yet". (yes.... this caused much anger.)

October came without much change. Things were still going from bad to worse. Then one day, a phone call came. His sister in law was calling to find out how things were. More of the same, I told her. He doesn't speak to me. He sleeps all the time. He won't take showers. He ignores the kids. Stressed about this, about that ..... The phone call ended with her promise that help would soon be on the way and they would get back in touch with us once they figured out what that help was going to be. I was thinking "maybe some money to help with stressful bills coming up. or maybe a week long vacation, just us." ..... Little did I know they were about to drop the biggest bomb on my head.

No, they didn't offer a vacation. Or money. Their solution was to send him all the way across the United States of America to live with them for an undetermined amount of time. Maybe 3 months. Maybe 7 months. Maybe a year! A YEAR! Or more! They decided I was more of a problem than a solution, and he just wasn't getting the help he needed where we lived. At first, (still unaware this was all just to get him away from me) I was supportive of this plan. "Time to myself, he gets help and gets better, we move away, he gets a better job.. that's fine with me". As time went by, and plans were made (without any discussion with me) I quickly became concerned that this was NOT just "help" because "life shouldn't be this hard". He took weeks to decide if he was going. His family convinced him that he should go. So I started asking if he was going to come back if he did leave. His answer was "I don't know. I don't have any plans". His mother came and packed his suitcases for him, packed his car and drove him (in his car) out west. He left. And he didn't look back. Days went by before I could get him to answer my calls. Emails, rarely a response. I had to start calling his brother's house just to find out when I would hear from him. And then, they started trying to convince me to send my children out there to live with them, so THEY could take care of them.

Around Christmas time, he finally came back. He was gone almost 2 months. He stayed in my house with me and the kids for 2 days. And then he moved out. Our divorce papers were signed the beginning of March and will be final at the end of June. I have primary custody of our kids and moved away from him and his family.

I will do my best not to mention names, or exact places - just so I don't end up with problems later on. This blog will be a journal of sorts for me.... where I can vent and scream and whine and cry and complain ....... but also, as life starts to turn for the better, where I can laugh, celebrate, and be happy. Obviously, I ask those of you who DO know me and DO know him and his family, PLEASE DO NOT TELL THEM ABOUT THIS BLOG! DO NOT TELL HIM/THEM I HAVE FACEBOOK! I'm trying to keep things as private as possible.

So that's the back story. I left out A LOT of details on purpose, but if you have any questions, feel free to ask. Look for more postings soon.

The single mom.