The Happy Medium

I got married super young (cough19cough). My whole world revolved around hubby, work, housework, cooking dinner, and attempting to spend time with friends and family. I was in my own little "love bubble" as I've heard it called and didn't care so much about the outside world because I was invincible and so was my marriage. I was going to live the Disney dream of "happily ever after". After all, all of the Disney princesses got their prince's right? That's just how it was supposed to be gosh dang it!

A few months into marriage, my dream was shattered! I'm not talking something in the mix broke and you can fix it with some superglue. Oh no! Someone took a bloody sledgehammer to it and there were splintered shards everywhere. Hubby fell into terrible rotten no good very bad habits and I was left to pick up the pieces of a broken heart. I held it together pretty well considering the circumstances. But it quickly placed me in the role of "mother/wife". Let me tell you I absolutely hated that. I am no one's mother, least of all a grown man's!

With that new role, I felt like I was babysitting all the time and constantly checking up on him. I had to make sure he made it to work without any hiccups. Check in at lunch time to see what he was up to. Call him when I left work on my way home to make sure he was either at home or on his way there. It was exhausting, frustrating, and I just wanted to cry all the time!

Even after all that, he still had slip ups. He'd lie about where he was, what time he got to places, and what he was doing. You should be able to trust your significant other right? Right! So what happens when you find out no matter how hard you try you just can't? You get obsessive compulsive about everything!

After discovering all the lies, Crazy Stephi came out. I'm not talking just a little more observant to things. No, no you naive little reader, it turned into a ridiculous mess that I honestly wouldn't wish on my very worst enemy.

I took his debit and credit cards and put him on an allowance every week. Even then I demanded receipts to verify what he purchased. I checked the odometer in his truck every morning and every night and if there was more than a 5-10 mile difference in his usual driving routine, crap hit the fan. I checked in with his dad several times a day since he worked for him to make sure he got to work on time, whether he left anywhere for lunch, and what time he left for the day. I timed my own schedule so that I could be home before him. I cut off all family and friends and threw myself head first into this rotating cycle of misery!

With that much watching and pressure, you're bound to blow up; and we did. He got sneakier about hiding things. He hooked up with his old "friends" and was able to work things out with them for what he wanted. He twisted things to make me sound like a terrible person so his family would cover for him. It was awful!

It was terrible for both of us. Instead of having a mutual partnership, we had a dictatorship and I hated it! I didn't want to be the one to make all the decisions about things. I didn't want to babysit my husband. I didn't want to feel like the mother of a "troubled" child. I didn't want to live like that. I wanted my hubby back!

It was roughly two or so years later when he really started to slip. I'd catch him doing stupid things. Catch him in lies. Catch him in phone calls with people he shouldn't have been talking to, etc. I started to notice things around the house. Stuff would be missing or out of place. Things were thrown haphazardly around as if someone was searching for something. I'd find things in his pockets when I'd do laundry, etc.

Ignorance is bliss and I tried to ignore the blaring signs that things were bad again. I really did. I'd get belligerent and defensive when someone would question his behavior or mine. I eventually quit talking to some people because all they ever did was bring things up and ask questions I didn't want to answer. But one day while sorting clothes and checking pockets for bobby pins, loose change, or gum wrappers, I found something I couldn't ignore anymore. I remember sitting on the floor in the laundry room of our house and bawling. That night when he got home was a long, painful, scream filled battle of wills. He ended up leaving and going to his parent's house for a few days so we could get some time apart and figure out if we wanted to save what was left of our shattered marriage.

I should have walked away. I should have taken my losses, cut ties, packed up my stuff, and filed papers that week. But I didn't. It's true you do stupid things when you love someone. He ended up coming home and we decided to talk to our church leader about marriage counseling. We were both willing to do whatever it took to make things work. Divorce wasn't an option at the time.

We went to counseling a total of 5 times over the course of our 6 year marriage. While I think counseling is a wonderful thing and can change the lives of many, I don't think it's for everyone. I don't think it's something to throw all your hopes and dreams into either. Because if it fails, it leaves a nasty bitter taste in your mouth and makes you never want to try it again.

Things with counseling didn't turn out so great and we opted for a more drastic plan. Hubby packed up and moved 2 hours away to attend a program for a few months. There he was able to go through intensive therapy, find out why he did some of the things he did, and work through the baggage of his childhood and teenage years, and gain some perspective on where he wanted his life to be.

When he got home, it was a night and day difference with him. Things were great! He was making huge progress and the future started to look bright again. Then he slipped. He was good about getting himself back on track and for a few months he held strong. Then he slipped again, and again, and again. But this time, he didn't get back up. He got worse and I got worse and we ended up back at square one. I knew this time was it. I was done. A person can only take so much before you lose it.

There comes a time when you hit rock bottom and realize you need to call it. My rock bottom was when I cut my hand in my sleep on the knife I kept under my pillow for protection "just in case". I've never told anyone that. It's strange how blogging can help make you more honest with your feelings...

After I left, hubby went and moved in with his sister. I packed up our whole house and put everything in storage. I moved in with a friend and tried to hold it together while figuring out my next plan. Did I want to file for divorce right away? Give it some time to make sure it really was the end? Attempt counseling one more time? What did I want to do?

I ended up doing nothing. I decided to allow myself some time to catch my breath and just be. I went to work like normal. I came home and sat in the living room with my roomie at night. I went downstairs to my room and cried myself to sleep. That was my routine for the first few weeks.

Hubby and I talked every once in a while on the phone. He went back to counseling on his own to work through some things after getting arrested (we'll save that story for another time) and was making progress again. But the damage had been done, and no matter what amount of progress was made, our relationship couldn't be saved.

We've talked several times about divorce. Neither one of us has really brought it up in the context of actually filing the legal paperwork. We both know it's imminent, but we're not in a big rush. It creates a lot of anxiety for me to think about it. See earlier post.

It's been almost a year since we split up. We see each other every now and then. We decided that we were friends once upon a time and even though our marriage didn't work out we could be friends still. We'll talk on the phone or text a couple times a week. We've worked through a lot of the bad issues and have finally reached the point now in our friendship that we can laugh again. Sometimes the funniest conversations I have all week are with him. Don't get me wrong, there's not a snowball's chance in Hell we'll get back together, but it's almost nice to know that he can still have a part in my life. He's always been a great friend and I think that's where he really should have been all along. Against all odds, sometimes I think you really can be "just friends". Time will only tell.