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.