“I had surprised my family with it. My husband told me he loved what I’d done to myself, but what he didn’t tell me was that he was having an affair. I often wonder what he must’ve felt when he saw his name on my wrist and knew he was lying.”
‘Since my divorce, I’ve seen a plastic surgeon every month. Not for Botox. I had to face what I’d done with every shower, every decision to wear short sleeves or a bathing suit.’
‘There’s no quick fix. There WILL always be a next panic attack, a next day of self-harm or cloud of doubt. I started to feel I wasn’t enough for him. I couldn’t pray away the dark times.’
“There’s nothing I want more than to see his beautiful smile. But part of being in love with someone struggling with mental health is dealing with the ugly. It’s true what they say. There is always a light at the end of the tunnel. But there’s also a damn dimmer switch in that tunnel too.”
‘I told him I wasn’t ready to have a baby with him. He didn’t care and messed with my birth control. ‘We’re going to be together for the rest of our lives,’ he said. Needless to say, I got pregnant.’
“Things started to take a darker turn. I wasn’t allowed to go outside alone. He spread lies to my friends and family. When I gave birth, he wouldn’t let me see my child. He called 911 saying I was a danger to the baby. He got full custody.”
‘I drove to Starbucks and wondered if this bike was my 43-year-old son’s. He was arrested, lost his job and wife, and is homeless. Everywhere I go, every corner I turn, I wonder where he is.’
“It rips my heart out that I had to finally walk away. Within 48 hours, he was out of my house with his bicycle and backpack. I couldn’t bear the chaos any longer. I fear I will get that phone call or knock on the door telling me my son is dead.”
‘Miss, I have your father’s autopsy results,’ the coroner said. ‘He felt absolutely nothing.’ I quickly asked, ‘It wasn’t an overdose?!’ ‘No drugs were detected, ma’am.’ I cried hysterically.’
“‘We can’t reach him,’ he said. My grandpa was at my dad’s apartment trying to get in. Police arrived. ‘Do we have permission to break in?’ The officer kicked the door down. ‘Dad!,’ my sister screamed. A police officer held our grandpa back. ‘Dana wake him up, get him up!’ All she could say was, ‘Grandpa, I am so sorry.'”
‘I was extremely nervous to tell her. Without missing a beat she replied, ‘That doesn’t change anything for me. I want to be with you.’
“I was so afraid of being found out and hospitalized, I hid my feelings. After a half hour of awkward stuttering, I finally spit it out by saying I understood if she didn’t want to continue this relationship.”
‘I was taken in a police car. Alone, I sat in a room overnight. An old friend and unexpected flame circled back into my life. I hesitated to connect with him because of my illness. I wasn’t myself.’
“The next morning, though I was states away, he was waiting in visitation for me in the hospital. I saw the pain in his eyes. When it would have been easy to notice only the illness, he saw me. Even in the darkness, he had hope.”
‘I gave birth to my son while high on methamphetamine. I wish I could tell you I sobered up, but I did not. We were joined at the hip. We were both addicts, but wanted to be sober.’
“I was so afraid. I just knew CPS was going to take him, but a miracle happened. He was born completely clean. No drugs in his system. He was perfectly healthy. Neal and I cried and cried. We went home that following Monday and swore we would stay sober.”
‘Help me get daddy out!,’ she begged. ‘He won’t like being dirty.’ I took her to see his grave. She started digging up the dirt, crying her little heart out. We sobbed until we had no more tears to cry.’
“She was 3. That was the last time I took her to his grave. She told me her ‘heart hurt too’ much and she didn’t want to go back. She asks if our family can die and ‘be a star in the sky with daddy.’ I go straight into Mommy mode and reassure her we can’t be stars. It’s not our time.”
‘There are police officers in the hall. ‘I want them to hurt me, mommy! I want them to kill me with their guns!’ He started crying and hitting himself in the head.’
“‘I think he’s manic,’ I say. ‘His moods are rally erratic and I’m worried.’ The nurse looks at me skeptically. Who am I to know about ‘mania?’ It was stupid to bring him here. He has been through hell.”
