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Chapter 9

1984

Four months after we were married, I turned nineteen, and we decided to move start our life over in Arizona. We still wanted children really bad. We tried everything: the thermometer, me raising my torso up on a pillow. We eventually sought medical help. He had really good insurance, and that’s when we found out my tubes were completely blocked. They said they could do surgery to remove the scar tissue. They said within six weeks after, I should get pregnant; they even gave me fertility pills.

It never happened. We even tried to foster, but I wasn’t twenty-one yet, and that was a rule. He was twenty-four, but I still needed to be twenty-one. We planned to adopt but never actually started the process. We ended up moving around too much and weren’t stable. I so regret to this day we didn’t adopt. We hadn’t got into any legal trouble yet, so we probably would have been able to. It wasn’t God’s will for some reason, but I had a really hard time accepting it.

He had a very good career and worked for the union. So because of that, if there was an opening in another state, he could easily transfer, for it was a first come first serve. He always gave me the choice where to go, thinking somewhere new would help my mental illness. Things didn’t change but we had a lot of fun between my episodes. So the fun outweighed the bad. Until after a really bad fight, he sent me home to my parents for a while. Divorce was never mentioned; he just thought we needed a break.

I’ve always had an incredible intuition, and although I never thought he would ever cheat on me, I had a very strong feeling that he had while I was gone. It was strange because it was out of the blue; I was going somewhere with my friend one day and just told her I had this strong feeling he had cheated. There had been no reason for the suspicion. But it just hit me suddenly. I did ask him on the phone one time before I went back, but before he could answer, I immediately apologized, saying I was being insecure and I was sorry for accusing him. I don’t know if he would have admitted it, and I forgot about it. Shortly after I returned, though, we were invited to a BBQ at some friends of his, where he said he was while I was gone and couldn’t reach him one night.

At the BBQ, he left to buy more beer, and when he was gone, just to make conversation, I had asked them how the BBQ was the few weeks before with no intention of trying to find out if he was telling the truth and was extremely shocked when they told me I was mistaken and they didn’t have one, not knowing that my husband had told me he was there or they probably wouldn’t have told me. It was an innocent question. When he returned from the store, I was very upset. I knew then that my intuition was right. I pulled him aside and told him to tell me the truth. I removed my wedding rings and told him if he didn’t cheat on me to put them back on my finger. He admitted to me regretfully that he, in fact, had with tears in his eyes. I immediately started running down the street. I was shocked, heartbroken, and betrayed. It had been the first time I had really had my heart broken, and because of my mental illness, it was so painful to believe he was intimate with someone else. I had never thought once to cheat on him.

He chased me down and begged me to come home with him. I did and demanded details, and he told me. He was drunk at a gas station on his motorcycle, and some girl asked him to help her put oil in her car then invited him over to her place for a drink. The rest was easy to guess without getting into detail.

I was extremely upset for days, as he tried very hard to beg for my forgiveness. I didn’t give in and refused to let him touch me or make love to me.

The next day, I took off to a local bar, where I met a guy and went home with him completely out of revenge. I had no interest of sleeping with him but every intention of letting my husband know what I had done by having the guy give me a ride home in his truck the next morning. I did not tell him I was married and made sure he dropped me off right in front of our house where my husband would see me getting out of his truck.

He jumped on his motorcycle with a crowbar in hand and tried to chase the guy down. He never caught up with him, but when he came home, he was in tears and knew he had no right to be angry.

I told him in detail what I did with every intention to hurt him and let him know how I felt.

The next day while he was at work, I began to feel very guilty, knowing two wrongs did not make a right.

I was watching The 700 Club, which I had never done before. It was a televised evangelist show with a phone number to call if you needed prayer. Even though I didn’t attend church, I was compelled to call.

I was able to get through and confess what I did, asking for prayer. The guilt consumed me. I never thought I’d commit adultery. Unfortunately, after that, I couldn’t stop and really don’t know why because my husband gave me plenty of attention. That is the beginning of my life of really sinning against God.

He had a very good job and was a good provider. I was a very good wife at times. Besides the adultery and abuse, taking care of the house and the bills, he would give me his paycheck every week. I was very responsible with that for some reason and was never late on the rent or bills. Even though I was very young, I cooked for him and did things a wife was supposed to do for her husband. I was often very rebellious against him, and the depression and mania when it would come in cycles made it difficult, but for the most part, I made sure to take care of those things.

I was on and off lithium to help. I don’t know if it did much good, probably made it less intense, but I would put on so much weight which made the depression worse and would stop taking it. I was very thin all my life when not taking the meds. And that helped my insecurities.

I never really liked sex, so I was not a sex addict, I guess it just made me feel wanted and probably just kept holding onto the resentment of what he did. I never fell for anyone else or wanted to see them again after. And I don’t know why I couldn’t stop, and I actually never pursued it but found myself not being able to say no. Just like I did when I was fourteen and slept around with every Tom, Dick, and Harry, I just wanted attention and couldn’t say no.

It never ended up in affairs, it was always a one-night stand, but it happened more times than I could count. And because he worked nights, it was very easy to get away with and never got caught, and if he did know, he never confronted me. And I never knew if he was also cheating on me; I never had that intuition again, with him anyway.