Chapter 4

I think all of us have spent some time when we were younger thinking about our future life.  In my first years of college I would spend lots of time, particularly at night, dreaming about my future life.  I made several different lists of what kind of qualities I wanted in my future husband.  I remember specifically praying to my Heavenly Father and letting him know that whomever I was to be married to, I would have to meet them somewhere other than a single adult ward in my church.  I couldn't stand single adult activities.  I always got approached by the "old" men who already had a few kids running around, and they were looking for a new wife to keep on pro-creating...lol.  It only took two BAD experiences at Weber State Institute dances for me to come home, get on my knees, and begin to offer up a prayer to my Father in Heaven and announcing that if he intended me to marry, I would have to meet someone while still attending my home ward.

I pictured myself with children.  Four boys to be exact!  I wanted to be the mom that ran the kids to their various activities.  I thought about what kind of house I wanted, what sort of street I hoped to live on, and pictured myself pushing a baby stroller while following a toddler riding a bike on training wheels around my neighborhood.  Even though I have always hated cooking, I envisioned cooking for my husband and family.  I hoped that I would make friends with my neighbors, and that we would share the same moral values.  I wanted to have my kids enjoy play dates with their friends.  I prayed that  I would be a patient, loving, understanding, and kind mother.  I always wanted a basketball hoop out in my front yard, a trampoline in the back yard, and a piano in my living room.  Thinking back on all my daydreams they all had one thing in common....NOTHING was ever going to go wrong.  When I thought about my future I knew that life would throw curve balls at me now and then, but I had no idea that what I was playing out in my mind would be so completely different than what I would actually get to experience.

In the Spring of 2009 I was the queen of bitterness and hatred.  I joked with some friends that if there was a women's rights group around, not only would I be their biggest supporter, but I would plot to overtake their leader and take charge! I was so busy being so angry at the world that I didn't see one bit of beauty in it.  My children became a huge burden instead of a blessing.  God no longer became someone whom I wanted to rely on, but rather a target of my intense anger and frustration.  I wanted answers, and I wasn't wanting to hear anything sugar coated.  "The Lord only gives you challenges that you are strong enough to handle," was not on my top 10 comforting thoughts.  I am so ashamed to admit it today, but my biggest person that was to blame for the bad things happening to me, in my book, was my Heavenly Father.  After him came MEN! Men in general.  My dad and my brothers were excluded from this hate group, and I didn't hate all men.  Only the ones on earth.  At this point my ex had not come out of the closet, and I still had no idea of what illness was growing inside me because of him.  I just knew that I was divorced, he had asked me and his children to leave "his house" and I knew he was living a lie.  Going to work everyday in the LDS Church Printing Division and continuing to manipulate EVERYONE in his life.  I began questioning every man I knew.  "What were they really like?" "What were they really doing when they told their wives they would be home late?"  I looked at my neighbors, men at the store, the movies, restaurants, men I knew from work, and men I'd known for years and began to feel a disgust for them.  I had been hurt so badly by the man who was supposed to love and care for me that I questioned ALL men.  My ex was SO good at lying and living a lie.  He fooled everyone.  My family, his work, his family, his friends, our neighbors, and ward members that I felt if he could do that, all men must be lying about something.

I tried to talk to a friend after I had moved out of my house and tell her that our marriage was not what it had appeared to be to the public eye.  As I began to vent about my ex and what he was really like and I was stopped by my friend.  She told me that Drew was such a good person that she just couldn't believe that what I was telling her was true.  So I quit talking and fell deeper into anger and depression. I began to put up walls.  Big cement walls.  I didn't want anyone inside these walls.  I built the walls up high and I stayed behind them.  I didn't talk about anything that had gone on in our home previously. It was over a year later when I finally started talking about things again.  During that year of complete depression I felt so empty.  I began to try and fill those empty sad feelings with substance abuse.  I quit talking, dealing with my feelings, and caring about myself or my family, and I began finding chemical ways to feel better.  Out of control.  I could no longer control my daydreams of what my future would be like.  The daydreams were no longer happy.  They were filled with Work Force Services, Food Assistance, Medicaid, standing in line for benefits, government cash assistance, SSI applications, long hold times on the phone, and the demands of 2 young children.  I was so overwhelmed it seemed like a nightmare. The unknown was terrifying to me, and I had absolutely no control over anything.  In just a couple months I would find out that things would go a lot worse before they got better.

Chapter 3

Phone calls from strangers make me nervous.  At least they do now.  Perhaps it's a flashback feeling to once particular phone call from years back. But still to this day when the phone rings and I don't recognize the number my heart rate speeds up a bit.  In April 2010 I had been divorced for only one month.  I had been separated for 13 months.  Basically I was going through the motions of life.  I honestly can't remember much of this chapter in my life.  One day ran into the next and months passed.  I fell into a dark hole.  A deep dark hole.  I was medicated, however, severally depressed.  I was a mother, however I wasn't enjoying it.  I was quick to frustration, cried constantly, and slept a lot. During this time my custody situation was joint.  The girls went with their dad each weekend.  This proved to be a bad thing because without my children around all I did was think.  Not in a good way either.  My thoughts were not good ones, and at my lowest I acted on the thoughts put into my head by Satan.  I became overcome with thoughts that my girls would be better off without me.  I had failed them.  As if somehow everything was my fault.  I had become brain washed into believing that I was such a horrible person.  I blamed myself for my divorce.  I blamed myself for everything wrong.  But then again, I had been told for almost 10 years that everything was my fault, and that I was an awful person.  Someone repulsive that no one had wanted, and that no one would ever want.  I had some dark moments in our town home, but none as dark as the phone call I received towards the end of April.

It was late at night.  Really late.  Around 12:30 and my phone rang.  I stared at the number on the phone and didn't recognize it.  I remember thinking, "who calls this late?" So much drama had been going on between me and Drew.  He would call relentlessly to fight and bicker.  We were not on any good terms.  He HATED the fact that he was no longer in control of me, and would often park his vehicle outside my house and watch.  Hoping for a man, or anyone sketchy to come by so that he could use it against me in a custody battle.  He became completely crazy.  This time in my life was terrifying. I was experiencing so much mental pain and PTSD flashbacks. (Flashbacks that will be noted at a different time).  I answered the phone hesitantly and the voice on the other end was strange to me.  It was a man.  A man I didn't know.  He said he was a friend of Drew's, and that he had been wanting to call for quite sometime but just hadn't gotten up the nerve.  He asked me if I had felt sick lately.  I said "no."  Then I asked, "what kind of sick."  He asked if I had had the flu or cold like symptoms that had seemed to drag on.  Again hesitantly I said "no...why?" Now I was worried.  This was weird.  This man then got extremely emotional.  He stated that he had been a "friend" of my ex husbands for several years.  They had been intimate since 2006.  He claimed he didn't know that Drew was married.  He had recently found out that he had once had a wife and children. He apologized up and down.  I asked if he was alright.  "Did something happen to Drew?" I asked.  He recommended that I take my children and be tested for HIV because he had recently been diagnosed.  I was completely numb.  I had so many thoughts running through my head at that moment that time seemed to freeze.  Inadequate feelings in the bedroom on my part came rushing through my head.  My honeymoon.  Things that had always been "my fault" became very real. Images found on my computer from only a year ago seemed to make complete sense.  Flashbacks that I thought had been horrible dreams came into my mind, and I quickly began to question if they weren't flashbacks at all, but reality.  I began to shake on the phone with this man.  My breathing became quick and short, and my heart felt as though it would come through my chest.  I could only respond with "ok."  I hung up the phone so fast.  Like if I didn't have to keep talking about that conversation it didn't really happen.  "What was that?" I remember thinking.  I wanted to tell someone, but I just couldn't.  I couldn't talk about anything that was going through my mind.  I felt if I even entertained the idea I would have a nervous breakdown with my two young kids in the next room.  I had to get up the next day, make breakfast, take Ellie to school, and go to work.  I had to keep going with LIFE.  I couldn't even cope with this thought.

Three weeks later I walked out of my family physicians office with my results.  I looked around me.  I watched the cars drive by.  I watched people walking in and out of the office.  The sun was shinning.  I could hear birds.  People were laughing.  It occurred to me that life was still going.  The world was still moving even as I stood still.  I couldn't move.  How should I tell my family? How am I going to tell my children? How am I going to afford this? I don't have insurance. What the hell am I going to do?  Maybe it wasn't real.  I felt fine.  I didn't feel sick.  I had become immersed in going to the gym.  I LOVED to run.  I didn't want to stop that.  I was good at it.  I had my first half marathon in a week.  I have races scheduled.  I just made the Striders running team.  Why are the people still going on with their life?  Don't they know mine is over? What am I going to tell my friends? Can I ever be intimate with someone again? What if I loose friends? I feel fine.  I'm good.  I'll be ok.  It won't affect me.  I have gone this long without medication I'll be fine.  I'm just going to keep going.  I don't look different. I don't feel different.  Am I going to die? I'm HIV positive.  Why is the world still going when mine feels completely over?  Doesn't everyone know my life is over?