Where to start…

I don’t know where to start, so I’ll just start where it’s fresh. I didn’t realize it then, but I know it now. When I thought my entire world was crashing down around me, in reality, it was teaching me much needed lessons to break free of a past that was single handedly destroying me. To teach me to fall in love with myself again, so I could finally live again. What I didn’t know, was that I would be going through some of the toughest shit I had ever endured in my life Leaving a narcassist was easy, dealing with the emotions that exploded after I left him, I had no idea what I was in for.

Two months after we had moved back to ND, 4 1/2 years ago, he told me our marriage was over. I had been struggling and felt he was acting ‘off’ and hiding something from me. One night while he was at work I grabbed his laptop and started digging. I found an email conversation he had deleted between him and his first girlfriend. He had planned on flying back to CA for his mom’s birthday in July and had reached out to his first girlfriend. He told her how she was on the only woman he has ever loved, how he was a fool for ever letting her go and how is marriage was on hospice with no change of survival and that his wife had not let it go into the night like he had. I was so hurt and so angry and called him at work to confront him. He at first denied it until I quoted the email. He hung up on me. I put the laptop back but not before I printed the email and hid it in my closet. I crawled into bed and cried. I heard the door of our apartment open, he had come home from work early. My heart started pounding as he opened the door to the bedroom. The first words out of his mouth were “it’s over, we are over” and then slammed the door. I jumped out of bed and opened the door, he was putting his lunch away and slammed the door freezer door shut. He started yelling at me for reading his personal things and when I tried to talk he walked over to me and was so angry he was spitting. He asked me if I knew why we would never work. I was crying and shook my head ‘no’. he said “because I am up here and he lifted his hand above his head and then said “and you are down here” and bent down and moved his hand across the floor”. I couldn’t breath, I wanted to die, at that very moment I didn’t care if that was my last day, how could someone I had loved so much so those things to me. He went into the spare bedroom, grabbed his clothes and went into his bathroom and shut the door to shower. A few minutes later he was grabbing his keys and he left. He moved back to CA, I filed for divorce. I started a new job at UND, bought a condo and in January that following year, he reached out and because my empathy was stronger than me, I took him back. It happened so fast, we were married days after he flew in GF, I remember sitting in the driveway, our daughter in the backseat and him getting angry with me for mixing up the payment to the pastor and the donation money to the church. I sat in the driveway and looked right at him and told him I did not want to marry him again. He told me I would disappoint my family if I didn’t. I looked back and my daughter and my heart was crushed. What was I showing her?? I put on my seatbelt and started my Jeep and backed out of the driveway to go pick up my mom on the way to the church.

Let’s jump ahead to March 2020. I don’t think I have to remind anyone what happened during that time. I had just been told that UND would be shutting down for 2 weeks to help ‘flatten the curve’. My anxiety went through the roof. I wasn’t sure how I could handle 2 weeks at home. Work was my escape from my marriage. The marriage that I had finally realized was over, I was no longer in love with him and I was starting to realize what a toxic marriage it had been. No, there was no way I could stay home with him. I didn’t feel well and ended up going to FMR, they tested me for COVID so I took sick leave and just rested. 3 days later I was getting out of the shower and my phone rang, it was FMR, my test was negative. I started crying, hysterically crying. Not because I was negative but because I had done it again. Worked myself up so badly to the point that I was making myself physically ill. I wrapped up in my towel and slid down the bathroom wall. I couldn’t do this again. The writer (I will get to why I call him that at some point but for now, my ex is the “writer”) walked in and asked what my problem was. He stepped over me to go the bathroom. He asked what my plans were for the day and I told him I was just going to take the rest of the week and start over next week. He finished and walked back over me again and mumbled “must be nice”. He went downstairs to leave for work, I heard the front door shut and I got up and finished getting ready, threw on my favorite worn out Sioux hockey sweatshirt and went downstairs to watch tv. Later that day he returned from work, walked right by me and said “I see you haven’t done much today, what exactly did you do all day?” I pointed to the tv. He responded “wasting your brain on useless information”. I mumbled a “yup” and he went upstairs and road the exercise bike, showered, and came down to eat and then back upstairs he went to write.

Two weeks turned into two months of me working from home. I moved my make shift office from the kitchen counter to the office upstairs to work. I was struggling and slipping so deep into a depression I didn’t know what to do. I had people I reached out to and one who I shared my every day struggles with among other thoughts. I started to lose myself in those conversations, they saved me some days and they were the only thing I looked forward to, but it still was not enough. I was struggling mentally on a level I had never struggle with before. I knew deep down, I was not okay. For 2 months I was home, 24/7. No going out, no meeting up with friends or family, I was not made to be confined, honestly I don’t know what human is. Our wedding anniversary (wedding #3–another story, another time) came and went in April, we didn’t so much as even have supper together that night. The entire time we were home together over the months we watched 2 movies together, that was it, the only time he spent with me. My supervisor would check in with me daily, one day she called and asked how I was doing, she asked if I was sick because I sounded congested. I had been crying. I didn’t open up too much to her but let her know I was struggling. We got off the phone and a little while later my other supervisor called me. We started talking and I completely broke down, a daily norm for me anymore. I told her I wasn’t sure about anything anymore and one thing I was certain about was that I wasn’t in love with my husband anymore. She tried consoling me and assuring me that I was just having a moment and I agreed, but as soon as we hung up I realized I was not having a moment. My marriage was over and I couldn’t handle one more day being cooped up with him.

That night I finished up work, cleaned up my desk and headed downstairs. The writer was upstairs riding the exercise bike. I sat down on the couch and started watching tv. I stared out the window and started crying again. I had to do something. I got up and went upstairs, changed and put my earbuds in and jumped on the treadmill. The music, the release, it was exactly what I needed. Every day after that one when I finished work I would jump on the treadmill. Throughout the day when my Fitbit would go off 10 minutes before the hour and tell me I needed to move, I cranked music and danced in the hallway. The writer came in one day and smiled and said “you look like your loosing weight, nice.” He turned and walked out and I flipped him off. The writer was never in love with, my heart, my soul…me.

It sounds harsh but in reality, he punished me for gaining weight after having our daughter. I was 110 lbs. when I found out I was pregnant at 23. When I delivered my daughter I was over 200 lbs. Again, another story for another time. Once you put on that kind of weight, it is a constant battle to take it off and keep it off. He was never happy with my body and body shamed me to the point I could not be naked him around unless the lights were off because I was humiliated. The words “I pretended to be asleep because the very thought of having sex with you repulsed me” rang through my head. The exact words he said to me on our 10th wedding Anniversary while we were in Las Vegas celebrating. I had purchased an outfit for our Anniversary night, went into the bathroom to change and came out to him sleeping. He later told me that he caught a glimpse while I was getting ready and I repulsed him so he pretended to be asleep. He walked downstairs and I flipped him off again and cranked the “training Montage” from the movie Rocky in my ears, raised the speed on the treadmill and started running like my ass was on fire. Never again would he get to touch my body.

aHe punished me for gaining weight after having our daughter. I was 110 lbs. when I found out I was pregnant at 23. When I delivered my daughter I was over 200 lbs. Again, another story for another time. Once you put on that kind of weight, it is a constant battle to take it off and keep it off. He was never happy with my body and body shamed me to the point I could not be naked him around unless the lights were off because I was humiliated. The words “I pretended to be asleep because the very thought of having sex with you repulsed me” rang through my head. The exact words he said to me on our 10th wedding Anniversary while we were in Las Vegas celebrating. I had purchased an outfit for our Anniversary night, went into the bathroom to change and came out to him sleeping. He later told me that he caught a glimpse while I was getting ready and I repulsed him so he pretended to be asleep. He walked downstairs and I flipped him off again and cranked the “training Montage” from the movie Rocky in my ears, raised the speed on the treadmill and started running like my ass was on fire. Never again would he get to touch my body.

A few weeks later we went to the lake and opened up. The campground we stayed at let us know when we arrived that per the Governor’s orders, we were not allowed to be around any other campers. We unloaded the camper and cleaned it. He stayed up to write and I went to bed, at 7 p.m. I woke up the next morning to snow. I got up and had a cup of coffee and told the writer I didn’t want to stay. He did. Thankfully we drove separately so I headed home. The following weekend was better, we could be around more people, but things were still so off with me. I couldn’t stop crying and it pissed the writer off. “Getting over it” was not something that was happening fast enough for him so we just argued. Saturday night we joined my brother and one of the neighbors for a bonfire. The writer and the neighbor got into an argument and the writer stormed off to our camper. I totally lost it. My brother asked what that was all about and I told him I didn’t know, but all I knew was my marriage was over and I didn’t know how to end it, but it needed to end. He told me not to worry, they (my family) would be there for me. I started crying and asked how I was supposed to tell my family I failed, again and for the 3rd time my marriage was again over. I went back to the camper around 2 a.m. and crawled into bed and moved way to the other side of the king size bed. I woke up a few hours later to the writer shaking my shoulder. He said he was going to head home. I asked what time it was he said 5:30 a.m., I asked him why so early, he said “because I am tired of spending my intelligence on useless stupid shit like this camper and the lake, I have better things to do than this”. I rolled back over and a few minutes later I heard the door of his pickup shut and him driving away. I started to cry again and ended up crying myself back to sleep. My daughter had stayed at another camper the night before and had come by for coffee and a change of clothes. We went to my mom’s for breakfast and then cleaned up and headed home ourselves. I picked up supper on the way into town, we ate and I drove her back to her apartment. I came home and started putting stuff away and the writer came downstairs and I asked if we could talk. The conversation was short, I think he already knew. The marriage was over. He told me he would look for a place as soon as he could but that he wanted to stay in GF to be around our daughter. The following weekend I went to the lake, my daughter joined me, the writer did not. We came back to town on Sunday, I dropped her off at her apartment and went home. When I arrived, the writer informed me he was transferring with his job and moving back to CA on Wednesday of that week. I was beyond relieved but felt bad for my daughter. He obviously had not told her of his change of plans because she had just told me how she was going to be getting together with her dad over the next weekend.

I was okay with him leaving. This time, I was over him before I had told him I wanted out of the marriage. I pushed forward but had no idea what was about to hit me. It wasn’t just my marriage but trauma from my childhood, it was all coming at me all at once. I ended up selling the camper, he wanted me to buy him out but we had already purchased the camper in full, I wasn’t going to pay him for something we had already paid for, so I sold it. I ended up having an blowout with my mom after she attacked my daughter verbally (another story for another time) and aside from cleaning out the camper of my personal belongings, I was done. I returned one last time to move out and then called it a Summer.

I was okay with it. I missed the lake but there was things going on that I just needed to remove myself from. It was a Saturday night and I decided to redo my downstairs bathroom. I was up on a ladder when my Fitbit went off notifying me of a text. I looked down it was from my mom to my sister, brother and me. All it said was “despite all the drama, I loved you all” I climbed down off the ladder and my Fitbit went off again “I love you all, goodbye” I grabbed my phone and called my brother. I asked if had had received the text, he said yes. He was pissed off. Him and my mom had gotten into a fight that night and he was packing is stuff to leave in the morning and not return. He said to me “sis, all this time I thought you were the cause of all the drama like mom said, you are not, it’s her and I am so sorry” I told him not to worry and had he gone to check on mom. He said no and thinks she is just playing a game. I asked him to go check on her. He went into the camper with me on speaker, mom was mumbling and he said there were empty Rx bottles all over the place. He said the dates on some of them were really old and he thinks she just did this for attention. He started panicking and asked what he should do. I asked him to hang up with me and call 911. He did. A few minutes later he was calling me. The Sheriff was there and they were waiting for the ambulance. My brother had me on speaker phone and the Sheriff was asking mom questions. He asked her if she took the pills and she started crying and said she was just having a bad night. He asked her what was going on and she said “my son, my son, the only child I love, the one I love the most, he tried to leave me tonight and I couldn’t handle him leaving me” My brother took me off of speaker and said “Kris, don’t listen to her” I told him it was fine, I always knew she didn’t love me and regardless it doesn’t matter. They took her to Park Rapids and admitted her. I finished my bathroom and poured a glass of wine. I had planned on going to see here but decided against it. They kept her and were planning on discharging her on Sunday but that didn’t happen. My brother called and said something happened with mom, she wasn’t coherent and mumbled a lot but was not alert or awake. I went to work Monday and my brother ended up staying in Park Rapids and going to the hospital Monday to talk with the doctor. He was talking to me when the doctor came in and asked if he could put me on speaker phone. What happened next we were totally unprepared for. The doctor had informed us they had been monitoring mom closely for the past 24 hrs. and they were certain she was in detox. My brother told the doctor she hadn’t had much to drink that night but the doctor said it had nothing to do with that night, the detox level was that of someone who abused alcohol often and asked if mom was a heavy drinker. My brother said no, and immediately flashed back to 9th grade, shortly after my parents divorce and remembered when my mom moved us to San Luis Obispo, CA. It was fun at first and then mom would start locking herself in her room and sit on the phone for hours at night. She stopped cooking and taking care of us and one night when she went out to a divorce support group I broke into her room and found empty and full wine bottles and boxes under her bed. I called my grandma (my mom’s mom) and told her what was going on. The next day my sister and I were in our bedroom and my mom came flying in and stuck her finger in my face and told me until I knew what it was like to go through a divorce (ironic, and here I am divorce #3 under my belt) I had no business sticking my nose in her business or calling her mom. We go into a screaming match and I lost. I told the doctor she was and had been drinking for years. My brother didn’t say a word.

The next day I was at work, thankfully I was allowed to come back to the Hyslop full time. I had called the hospital to see if there was any change with my mom, there wasn’t, she was still out of it. I asked if a DNR is necessary and they said “yes, she is in ICU, if she has one we should have a copy”. I called my sister who was out in CA where my mom’s attorney was. She called the attorney to pick up the paperwork but because I was the primary, they needed me to sign a release for my sister to pick up the paperwork. I type up something and printed it out, went to sign it, stuck a carrot in my mouth and completely lost it. I started crying and looked up to one of the athletic trainers standing in my doorway. I thought I was alone. She asked if I was okay and my thought was “no damnit, I wanted cucumbers for lunch not carrots”. She came into my office and asked if she could hug me. She also asked I would like to talk to someone, I replied with a “yes”. She made a call and the following week I was back into much needed therapy.