Z's Story

This story is told from the perspective of our sister, Z. Her story is related to sexual abuse - molestation, incest and workplace sexual harassment, - secrecy and freedom. 

** If you are not comfortable with details of sexual encounters & terminology, please do not read this post. It is written with candor and honestly, and it could be troubling for sensitive readers. ** 

April, 2017

My story.
This is the hardest thing I have ever done.  It is my secret, but by sharing my secret with others, I hope that they will know that they can survive.​ After all, I did!​

Mine starts at the age of 5.  That’s right… Some therapists say it is a memory or something that I have made up. ​NOT SO! Some people have had the same issues and keep them to themselves and when they do try to get help, they find that it is just too much to handle so they lock the key and put it away again.  

When I was 5, my sister and I​ would wait for the knock from the closet.  One specific knock was for me and another was for my sister.  We would wait patiently in our room for the knock. When it was my knock I would sneak into my two ​brothers’​room.  One brother was two years older and the other was about seven years older than me,​ I think.  I do not want to think about how much older he is because it brings so much anxiety that I still freeze. My older brother would be first and try to put himself inside of me. When I would cry, my younger brother would be taught how to do it and how to get ​ himself​​ hard. I would then have to perform oral sex with both brothers. ​A​t the end of each time I would get to pick out anything in their room to have for my own​... my reward. This goes on for several years.  We did not know that we were not suppose​d ​to be doing this.  We had to keep it a secret from our parents and older sister. We would get to drive the tractor if we did our things; we would get to ride the flat bed that dragged on the ground while picking up stones for the planting of the corn.  I do not have any memory of doing anything fun with our parents, so these were the fun times.

We were the barn kids that got up each morning and went out to feed the cows, clean the stalls, milk the cows. After that we had to go planting the corn and plow the hay. Sundays were the best because we got to take a bath and watch Walt Disney. When I was in the 3^rd grade, I remember one Sunday night when I was about to take my turn in the bath tub.  I had to pee and I started screaming in pain.  My parents took me to the doctor and found that I had a “kidney infection”.  It was not until I was an adult when I was diagnosed with a UTI that the memory came flooding back that I had my first UTI when I was in 3^rd grade.​ It was traumatic.

Still I would keep going back when the knock on my door came.  ​Sometimes my brother would have sex with the cows and make me watch. He told me that it was not painful. One time he tried to make me have sex with the dog.  My other brother brought his friend home and wanted me to have sex with him. This was the first time I saw a boy that was not circumcised.  ​I realize now the mind remembers strange things when trying not to focus on scary situations that we are in at the moment. That boy found me on FB not too long ago and I nearly passed out ​when the memory came rushing back. 

One time my brother made me smoke a cigarette and inhale all of it, then he took me to the hay loft and tried again to go all the way.  It hurt, but he finally was able to have intercourse with me on a regular basis. ​

Despite the regular abuse (that I did not realize was abuse at the time),​ I did have good times. My first grade teacher was my aunt. She had a toothbrush and washcloth for me to use every day. I would clean up so that I did not look like the kid that just came from the barn milking cows. 

​​More often, I spent a lot of time dreaming of getting away. I would go into the woods and stay there all day long. I found one place that I called rabbit hill.  It was my magical place - a hill was covered with the softest grass and a stone wall that looked very old. I would stay all day when I could. ​Another place I would go was an old road that I think was called the old church lot.  It was on our property, as​we had nearly 1,000 acres, so the places to go were endless.  The old church lot had trees that I could climb and just hid​e.  As long as I was in the house before dark I did not get into too much trouble. I tried to not ​get into trouble ​because that meant no dinner​ and ​since ​I  was gone all day I did not get lunch​, ​but I ​did eat apples and grapes from the land.  

When I was in the 4^th grade our house burned down. My father had put the wrong fuse in the box and our big house was destroyed.  We put up a single trailer in the yard and lived in that for 5 years. I guess things got tough because the farm was sold and my older brother went into the army at 17. Since he was not 18 he was not able to go into battle, so he spent time in Japan almost married a Japanese woman.  I was really mad​ at him at the time. ​Upon his return I was so excited to tell him that I had hair down there...​

When I got my first period I went to my mom because I did not know what to do.  She told my sister to take care of me. She took me to the bathroom and gave me this rubber belt thing and a pad. She also told me not to use hers and told me to ask mom to get me some. ​I didn't want to ask mom, and since I was so afraid of my sister I would find things from the barn to use as a pad. My job at the time was to iron all of my brother’s army clothes and keep them clean and starched.

The trailer that we were in had two​ bedrooms at one end of the house and two at the other end.  My older sister got to have her own room.  She was the perfect one.  The small ones were for me and my sister and the other was for my brothers.  The closet acted as a hallway from one room to the other.  So things started again.  I was starting to wonder if I was supposed to be doing this but no one was catching me ​ or telling me otherwise, so I was going along with it all.  

In 7^th grade my parents built a house and we moved into it and started a new school.  My older brother was told that he had to move to my uncle’s house that was on the other side of the USA.  He had gotten a girl pregnant and either the girl was pressing charges or my father did not want them to be together, so my brother had to leave. It did not stop when he left.  He had problems with rape there too.  He went to federal prison for raping his then-stepdaughter.  After getting out of prison he joined the circus and was living in his truck with a little person.  ​I am sad for him, but think to myself at least he had some one. 

​M​y other brother would practice with me for the times when he would have a date.  He would tell me that he needed to make sure that he was doing it right and not be doing it wrong with a real girl. 

At this point our parents were getting divorced after nearly 30​years of marriage.  My father got custody of us because our mother was having affairs with multiple partners, one of which was my dad’s best friend.  We did not have to go and visit her, he told us and the papers clearly showed.  So then I was with my father, brother and sister. 

I had tried to tell my parents that things were wrong but was told me to shut up and it was not happening.  ​I understood why after my mom was not at home anymore... ​My dad thought he would get into the action.  I had to go to his room and give him a rub every now and then just so that he was not so lonely.  

Finally I had a good turn into a turn in my life.  I got a baby sitting job ​for four girls who were so cute. I would go over to their house and help out, even when I did not have to babysit. I got along so well with the lady and I believe we became real friends.  I told her about my brother just to see how she would take it.  ​Would she still let me be in her family's life?

I also worked at the bar that​ a friend of our family owned. ​I did the grill cooking ​for the hamburgers ​ and liver and onion sandwiches during the clam bakes or chicken bakes.  There were hundreds of people that would come​and it made me feel so big that I was working a real job and getting paid.  I would get $15-20 dollars for the weekend​ as I was working from 6 am – 7 pm on Saturday and Sunday. I would buy cigarettes and candy for my sister​ and me.  

Next thing I knew my brother was being moved out to my uncle’s​ house, the​same as my other brother.​ I was sad because I was still thought that the things we were doing were OK. ​We never had adults to talk to,​ and our only source of knowledge was our brothers. I understood later why he was made to leave... After my brother left I told the lady that my father was making me rub him. ​My father was a sort of leader in the town and there was nobody really to tell to have anything done, so she let me spend as much time at her house as I wanted.  They had a porch and I would sleep there as much as I could.  My father moved on and found a woman who he married and brought four of her seven children to our house. Things changed for me a lot. I no longer was able to use the car. If I needed a ride to or from work I would have to pay my step sisters money to put gas in the car. Sometimes I would have to walk to the other side of town before they would come get me, which was about 5 miles​ and we lived 15 miles from the city. My father would never come to get me.  I guess at this point he did not like me for what I had done by turning in my brothers. ​I believed it was my fault they were moved away from our family.

At some point, the lady that I was babysitting for had​ asked the priest if he would school me so that I could become Catholic. I would go to his office every Tuesday after school. I would then walk to where my older sister worked and she would reluctantly give me a ride home. I loved this priest because he was so kind.  I am not sure how much I learned, but it was such a peaceful place to be and ​ I felt so safe.  After some time he asked if I wanted to take the next step and be confirmed. 

The lady’s mother that I babysat for had a very large house and at one time in the old days her house was used as the local country church where the farmers could go to mass and the priest would come to the country for them.  ​The Father​ who was teaching me​ came out to the house and I had my first confession, first communion and was confirmed. My father came and was not nice about any of it because he was​ Protestant. All he could say was that he put lots of work in that church and there were a lot of Protestant stones in that Catholic Church. ​I was finally starting to learn that I would never make him happy and I needed to start a different life away from him. 

​I was so thankful and grew to love the lady’s mother.  I would spend hours and hours at her house.  I would ride my bike 5 miles to her house and just sit with her. We would make mittens for all her grandkids. She taught me to make mittens, hats and afghans for the church bazaar. I would say the rosary with her several times a day. Then I would ride my bike back home before it got too​dark.  My mom was not there anymore so I would not get in trouble. ​It was only my younger sister there ​with me, and Dad was spending all his time with his new family. They were all drunks and that was what he wanted. He was only happy when he was drinking with them.  

The guy across the road was 4 years older than me and started coming over when I babysat. ​With me not knowing that sex was wrong, I just went along with it​ when he initiated a sexual relationship. At this time many girls got pregnant at school and I did not want to get pregnant. I told the lady that I was having really bad cramps during my cycle so she took me to the doctor, who put me on the pill to help with the cramps. I was glad that I could keep my secret. 

I got engaged at 16 and all my father said was that I had to give back the ring when we broke up. The lady’s mother in law really liked me.  She said I could come and live in the nearby big city to go to school and live with them. I was so happy that I told my fiancé, and he got so mad and drove out of the driveway throwing stones in my face.  He told me that I was not going anywhere and that we were going to get married and that I would take care of the home and have babies. That was enough for me to hear and I gave him back the ring. ​Turned out that Dad was right, but he still was not talking to me.  ​I spent a lot of time contemplating what I could do to get him to at least talk to me.

I graduated from high school close to the bottom of my class, but I went to a trade school and learned my skill. There were no jobs with my skill​locally. I worked at the grocery store for​a few years during high school, and after graduation a large department store opened and I applied for a full time job.  I got the job as the cook and I liked it a lot, but when Dad would come in he would ask the waitress for three eggs over easy.  I found out that if I was not there he would not ask for eggs.​ I am not sure what that meant, but it stuck with me. I was the master at cooking.  ​I enjoyed so much being a short order cook and I thought that someday I would start my own place. ​ I laugh now when I think back.

​With that job, I had enough money to get a car with small monthly payments.  I asked my dad to cosign for me, but he said no.  Thankfully my brother-in-law said yes. I got a nice car, but it didn't have air conditioning and only AM radio.  It was enough for me, though! ​It was around this time my step sister got pregnant and I was kicked out. I ​slept in my car for a few nights and ​then slept at the ​lady's house ​that I babysat for ​a few ​more ​and her mother’s for a few​ more after that​. One of the lady’s brothers found me a room for $50 per month​ just so that I could sleep. I stayed there for about a year.

The ​lady that I ​was still babysitting for ​told me that they are moving to Texas​, which made me so depressed because I did not know what I would do​.  I was spending more and more time with ​the lady's mother, which annoyed​the person that I was renting the room from. Later she asked me to leave because I was supposed to be at her house to keep her company. That sent me back to living in the car and spending time with the lady's mother and staying with her as much as I can.

The lady’s husband sent me a letter letting me know that if I wanted to come to Texas with them I could. WOW! I had nothing to bring with me but my car, so we packed up all​ of​ their things and drove to Texas. I lived with the lady ​for a year ​or so, just​ until I could get enough money to get my own apartment. I had to get clothes for working and save money for furniture. I was so happy.  

I got my first Texas job doing the trade that I learned in high school making $700 per month. That was a lot of money for me, but the lady suggested that I look for a new job to make more money.  I found a job in a popular industry​locally ​for $800 per month. I loved this job for lots of reasons, but the people were nice and I was learning new jobs ​-​ not just my trade. After about 2 years at this job I got my own office that they created out ​of an existing wall/closet.  It was little,​ but the noise from the computer was so loud, so it was a good idea.

The VP had to give up part of his closet for me to have this space, which was when he asked me to help his son learn the computer. So I went to his house and taught his son some of the computer stuff. The kid was smart so I did not know why I was there. It didn't make sense to me. But I was invited back for dinner as a thank you. I went​and the VP was the only one there. ​I realize now that I was still the stupid kid that did not know that I should turn around and run.

He molested me.  

I tried to tell my boss but there were no laws at that time against sexual harassment.  This industry was mostly men​ and there was no protection against this stuff.  

I had endured enough. ​I made life changes. I joined the choir at church.  I submerged myself in anything I could. I taught CCE for several years. I was the choir secretary, I was in charge of the booth at the bazaar. I could not be still. I was trying so hard to find friends. There were so many people that were nice to me and all I could think was that they had no idea what kind of person I was. But life moved on for me. I met and married my husband. I had two wonderful children. I moved to a job and love the industry I work in now. It's not all men. It took decades for me to share my story, but when I saw someone I know hurting, I shared it with her. And now I have shared it again. I hope and pray that it helps someone else. 

Through the years, Z has been to numerous counselors and tried various types of therapy.  She immersed herself in the Catholic church and found strength and hope in her faith. She kept her secret close and tight for many years, feeling shame and unworthiness and embarrassment. Through sharing her story, she has felt a release and freedom that she did not know would come. ​Writing the story brought back many emotions and was overwhelming at times, which made the process take weeks. She says it was worth it, but will go back to counseling for a while to help get her emotions back to a stable level.

A's Story

This story is told from the perspective of our sister, A.  It is related to teen pregnancy, depression, separation, and marriage struggles.

March, 2017

My husband and I started dating at 15 years old (1994), when we were sophomores in high school.  When we met we were going to the same high school but just after one month of dating, I moved 3 hours away for the remainder of my high school days.  This was back before cell phones.  We would get in trouble month after month when our parents would get $600 long distance phone bill in the mail.  We would record cassette tapes and send them to each other and we would drive to see each other MOST weekends, as much as our parents would allow.  This time was hard but in certain ways it made us very strong in our relationship.  We had to learn to communicate and trust each other during our young, drama-filled high school days.  He proposed during our junior year, we knew we wanted to spend our life together.  We were not in a hurry to get married but we wanted to show our commitment to each other.  We were planning on getting married during the summer after we graduated high school.  I found out I was pregnant Memorial Day weekend of my junior year, and the baby was due mid-January of my senior year.  We never doubted what that meant for us and we knew it would be hard but we were truly excited to be parents.  Fast forward, we had a baby girl January 30^th of our senior year, we were still engaged, living 3 hours away from each other; it was so hard but amazing all at the same time.  We decided to go to the JP during spring break to get married (1997), still lived 3 hours apart, LOL.  We were determined (along with our parents) to graduate high school.  Married with one baby, we both graduated high school and we finally got to live together in his parents’ house, starting out as a family.  I will fast forward the next few years.  We had our second baby at the age of 20 and ended up getting our own place at 21. 

As our kids got older, we struggled with where to go to church.  My husband was raised Catholic and I was raised Baptist.  Even though I was not a faithful church attender, I was not sure about the Catholic religion.  My husband was a faithful church attender (not always on his free will), but still did not want to change.  We tried a few non-denominational churches and that was not a good experience, which left us back at the Catholic church.  I ended up going through RCIA to “become” Catholic and even though I did not agree with some of their beliefs, I thought I was doing what was best for the kids.  I knew they needed a solid foundation in Christ and we needed that foundation as a family as well.  We attended church for several years but once it was time for my kids to start going through requirements of the church, we stopped attending due to different beliefs.

As time went on and the kids grew up, our schedules got busier with extracurricular events and career goals.  My husband would take courses down at the local community college, he would volunteer at the fire department, our daughter was in travel softball, and our son was in either football or baseball throughout the year.  Plus we both had full-time jobs.  Life was busy!  The busier we got the more I felt alone and disconnected from my husband.  I would try to talk to him but he didn’t know what I needed or how to fix how I was feeling.  He would get frustrated so I would shut down and I just started holding everything inside, bottled up.  I felt like everything and everyone in our lives was more important than me.  I tried to fill the void with materialistic things or just pretending everything was ok.  I went through the motions… a lot.  For so long I poured everything I had into my kids, day in and day out, which is not a good place for a marriage to succeed.

I went through years of depression and feeling so alone.  I went to counseling that just wanted to bring up my childhood and start at the beginning.  That was not what I wanted so I quit going.  The doctor put me on anti-depressants and that helped for a little while.  It helped when I needed it most but it made me feel very numb; I was not myself.  I took myself off the medicine and so I just thought something was just wrong with me and that my husband and kids would be better off without me.

I started flirting and having conversations through instant message with a guy at work that showed me attention I was missing at home.  Emotional affairs are just as destructive, if not more, as the physical ones.  Emotional affairs put feelings and thoughts in your head that shouldn’t be there.  I began to think that I didn’t want to be married; I thought that I wanted to be alone.  I thought that I just needed space to find out who I was and what I wanted.  Maybe I got married too young and I didn’t know who I was outside of my husband and the kids.  The emotional affair drew me further away from my husband; it put a huge wedge that left me broken from the inside out.  I lost all hope in my marriage.  I felt guilty and ashamed of the conversations that should have never happened and the thoughts that had manifested and snowballed in my head.  Sin starts in the head, moves to the heart and ends up in actions that you look back on wondering how in the world you got to that dark place.      

A few times through the years, friends had invited us to a church, and that was good but a little overwhelming.  We had enjoyed it, but at the time it just was not for us.  I knew I needed something to change and I didn’t know where else to turn, so I went to church.  Most of the sermons left me more and more sad.  I wanted to have what the Pastor talked about, a lasting spiritual relationship.  I wanted to feel emotionally connected with someone.  I would go home and felt more and more alone.  I started to think that God wanted me to be happy and if I wasn’t happy with my husband then I should leave him.  God would put someone else in my life that would understand me and that would make me happy.  I went to church but I still didn’t have that personal relationship with God.  If my husband didn’t want to talk then why would God want to talk?  Don’t get me wrong, I loved my husband, I loved my kids, I loved my life so something had to be wrong with me!  Emotionally and spiritually I was empty. I was lost.

After 15 years, I decided had enough. I asked my husband for a separation.  He said no, and he told me it was either married or divorce, no in between.  I didn’t want a divorce, but I knew I wasn’t happy continuing life the way it was.  I was not good at expressing my feelings, I had kept them bottled up for so long.  My husband told me that if I didn’t know how he felt about me by this time in our marriage then I never would.  His response didn’t surprise me, though, because all through our marriage he made the rules.  He decided where we lived, how we spent our money, what we did and how we did it.  I cried, he cried, neither one of us wanted a divorce but we didn’t know what else to do.  We decided to give it one last chance and to go to counseling.  My husband was so scared that things were over between us that he got on his knees for the first time and prayed a sincere heartfelt prayer to God and he decided to come to church with me. 

Honestly the only thing that we got out of counseling was how to communicate about anything and everything.  Instead of my husband telling me that I shouldn’t feel a certain way, he would say I am so sorry I made you feel that way, I never meant it that way.  WOW what a difference that statement made to me!!!  When decisions came up in the house, he asked me for my opinion and we talked until we reached a mutual agreement, it was amazing.  I felt like we were connecting again and we were on the same team.  I was no longer scared to share my feelings with him.  I felt important and that I mattered to him.  We started praying together, we started volunteering at church, the kids got involved at church.  Our lives started changing.  God waited for us to surrender to Him, to fall on our knees begging for Him to fix what we let Satan destroy, what we helped Satan destroy.  When we humble ourselves and hand our lives over to God, only then can He work the miracle that we all long for.

Once I surrendered my life to Christ, I no longer had a void in my life.  For so long I looked to my husband to satisfy my every need and I had expectations that he could not live up to.  I would feel disappointed in him and he would feel like he never measured up as a husband.  God is the only one that can feel that need in our hearts.  We learned that we will let each other down but we don’t mean to, we are human.  We love each other and should always assume the best in each other and not jump to the worst thoughts of each other.

There were a lot of long talks, forgiveness, praying together, praying separately and learning how to love each other again.  It took time and a lot of work.  It took patience and when we would find ourselves mad and pulling away from each other, we had to hold each other accountable and admit when we were wrong.  My husband had to learn how to trust me again.  We had to learn how to turn away from the bad habits and put into practice the communication strategies that we learned in counseling.  It was all very intentional and did not come easy at all.  It went against everything that felt natural to us.  As we go through life, we get training in our jobs, we study for school, and we practice for sports…why wouldn’t we get training, education and practice communicating correctly in our marriage!!

We have talked about how we wished we would have come to have that personal relationship with Christ so much sooner but it is all in God’s plan.  I don’t know what that plan is but I do trust God completely with my life, my marriage, my children, my finances, my career, everything in my life.  There is nothing that I don’t seek God for every day.  I know that most of us are stubborn, it is in our human nature to want to control everything.  But if I pray first instead of as a last resort, I am filled with hope, peace and a love that surpasses any earthly understanding.  We are learning that the closer we get to God the more Satan tries to intervene.  He continues to tell us that we have failed, we are not worthy of God’s love and that we will never measure up to be the people God wants us to be.  Satan is the father of all lies.  The more we read God’s word the more we are be able to recognize when Satan is attacking us.  I learned how to take control of my thoughts!

I am so thankful that our God is greater and that He always brings triumph out of a trial.  I pray that this will help anyone that feels alone and has lost all hope.  I am here to tell you that God specializes at bringing the dead to life, so if you feel that your marriage is dead, hand it over to God and let him breathe life into it.  I can now tell you that we just celebrated our 20^th wedding anniversary and neither one of us ever thought we could be so happy.  We still get on each other’s nerves, we still get irritated, we still have arguments but we know that our intentions are good (we are on the same team with God as our Head Coach).  We also know that neither one of us is going anywhere.  We love each other so much and we know that we do not want to hurt each other but we are human and have realistic expectations now.  I know that Jesus is the only one that can fill that void in my heart that I have searched to fill with so many other things in this broken world. 

My suggestions for you:

Pray – make it your top priority, if you don’t know what to say, pick a scripture and read it over and over, ask God to reveal to you the meaning and stay quiet for a minute or so, meditate and let God work in your heart.  One of my favorite apps for scripture is called “Bible Promises”.  It will give you different subjects, click on the one that is weighing on your heart and there will be several scriptures to help you seek God in his word.  I realized that my heart is what needed to change, if I wanted my life to change it had to begin in myself and not in my husband.  I had to take responsibility and hold myself accountable for my thoughts and actions.

Small Group Bible Study – find a church home and get involved in a bible study.  There are some online that you can even get involved in as well.  It is so important to read and know God’s word first hand and not by a preacher saying scripture in a sermon.  I highly recommend the Books of the Bible by Biblica.  It separates the bible into sections and lays it out in a novel base format so that it is easier to read.  We struggled with reading the bible and have now read the whole bible using this format.  Being a part of a small group gives you a foundation to walk through life with other Christians, imperfect people that are wanting to grow closer to God.

There are a lot of resources out there but here are a few books that helped us connect:

Two Hearts Praying as One by: Dennis and Barbara Rainey

The Five Love Languages by: Gary Chapman

Love and Respect by: Dr. Emerson Eggerichs

N's Story - addendum

Why am I adding an addendum? Well, because after re-reading my post a couple days later I realized I told a story but left out the emotion.  I suppose there was some emotion tied into certain points, but the idea of this blog - helping others know they are not alone - requires digging in and getting to the hard stuff... the part I tend to glaze over and "under think," if there is such a phrase. That tendency is related to my strong ability and desire to live in denial land when things aren't going as I would like, and I am working hard to get out of that place for now and the future. Life will always have difficulties.  I have a friend through the support group I have recently joined and she says she really needs the group "when life gets lifey." I like that phrase, because we all have lifey times, and I am learning how best to handle life when it gets lifey through various resources, but the commonality in all these is that it must be handled. Faced. Dealt with in some form or fashion. Acknowledged, at the very least. Like it or not. And living in denial land doesn't allow for that. So, I am working on it... and acknowledging the emotions that come with all that. 
Back to the beginning of my story... married at 19 to a 34 year old. Why? I guess it was because I wanted to be an adult; I was ready to take on the world and all it had to throw at me. Now, 40, I look back and think how ridiculous that was. I can't think back to the emotions that were tied to that, honestly, other than that feeling of invincible and ready to live happily ever after. That all changed when I found out I was pregnant a month after we returned from our honeymoon. Oops. Real life hit hard. And, of course, I wouldn't change a thing about it now, but at the moment I was slapped in the face with reality and cried for three days. I changed my mindset, decided life would be OK, despite the rather large change of plans, and worked on getting excited. It didn't take long for the excitement to set in. I am pretty sure as soon as I told my mom everything changed and I was happy. Funny how that happens, huh? Those moms are keepers.  Anyway, fast forward through an easy pregnancy. About a month after Savannah came along, we moved out of an apartment and into a house. And in moved Robert, my step-son, 12 years old at the time. And then I went back to work when she was 7 weeks old, and changed jobs when she was about 3 months old. During training for that new job I got a phone call at the office that changed my already-ever-changing world... I knew he was having an affair.  At a very immature 20 years old I had no idea how to handle it. Drama initiated. I was a mess - a hormonal, sleep-deprived,  new mommy to two - just found out their father is cheating on me, mess. There was crying and yelling and more crying and moving in and out of my parent's house, making him move in and out of the other woman's house (did I mention she was married with kids and new baby of her own?) over and over about the next two and a half years. I was ashamed, embarrassed, confused, terrified, angry, sad, resentful, and a whole other host of emotions, depending on the day of the week. Emotions ran high and didn't stop until the drama stopped when she found someone new and dropped him. A couple different counselors later and life settled down a bit.  I was still angry & resentful, and bitterness was growing inside me. I was not ready to forgive him, but I was OK forgetting for a while to help keep the kids stable. Move a few years ahead to the second affair that I found out about and it was a similar story. Embarrassment, humiliation, anger, sadness, inability to understand why this was happening again... Enough that I went to my doctor and began to take anti-depressants. I was gaining weight, coping through food, and disengaged from most friends and often family, too. I was working as much as I could, happy to be away from the house and feeling productive. I was involved in everything Savannah was interested in and would escape every night of the week if I could. Denial-land. This was similar to the first, where kids and her husband were also involved and drama was again at the forefront of my life. I became a little more resentful every day and we spoke less and less. I do not remember if he left or if I left this time; it's really all a blur. But I do remember the complete disconnection from most of the world. I spent time with my daughter or alone if I wasn't at work. I was embarrassed to admit to anyone that I was going through the same turmoil that I went through at the start of our marriage, and even more embarrassed to admit that I was still staying, in spite of it. I did not want to end up a statistic: married and pregnant as a teenager always leads to divorce. I was not having it. So I stayed. Move into meth days... Volatile, paranoid, angry days. I was confused, afraid, and felt like I had nobody to talk to. Especially once I found out for sure it was drugs and he was arrested. I have some amazing women in my life and I could not have made it through this without such wonderful friends and family. Guess what emotions came back? Yep, embarrassment, humiliation, disbelief and that ever-growing loneliness from trying to keep the world out of my chaotic life. It wasn't until two years after we were divorced that I really began dealing with my emotions and the toll all those years took on my heart. I am so thankful for DivorceCare and my friend who did not believe me when I told her, "Nah, I'm good." She was persistent and knew I wasn't so good.  I was still bitter, angry and resentful. I was sad for what might have been, but not for missing him. It's funny how that worked out. I finally dealt with lots of emotion I had tucked away and had made my heart as hard as stone in many ways. I was not open to dating much, and falling in love? Well, that was never going to happen. Until it did. It wasn't too terribly long after I had completed the DivorceCare program that this crazy man I am married to now came into the picture. I was still a piece of work, and he had to chase me for a while (Uh... I moved to India at one point!) and convince me there was a different way to live and really be happy. I had begun going to church again and recommitted my life to Jesus. I was a changed person and it was good. After enough convincing and getting remarried, the issues with my daughter surfaced hard and fast, and those are what I have spent the most recent days and months dealing with. It took some time to realize I could not live in Denial-land again and really think things would be OK. It also took some time to realize I could not and cannot make decisions for her. It also took some time to admit I needed help again and sought a counselor and support group. After months of crying all the time and hiding in the house, I began to venture out again and regain control of my own life, realizing I could not change hers for her.  Though I still struggle with "what ifs" and "if onlys" every now and then, I have learned tools for combatting those negative thoughts and bringing peace during difficult times. You know, when life gets lifey. Lots of emotions with this issue as well, and I realized I was in a victim mentality: I had to go to this dumb support group. Why did this happen to my life? What did I do to cause my daughter to make this choice? Through the help of the counselor and the 12 step program I was able to shed that mindset and move into a better place. There are still bad moments, but they are fewer and farther between, and when they do pop up, I am much better equipped to deal with them. And deal with them, I do.  I am learning to recognize my emotions and face them head-on as I move into this chapter of my life. I am a better, stronger and more compassionate person for it. I know we all have struggles and we all need support at some time in our life. I hope my story has shown you that you are not alone, and there is help out there for anything and everything you might be going through. All you need to do is ask, difficult as it may seem. I promise you someone out there is willing to help.  Much love.

N's Story

This story is told from the perspective of N.  It is related to infidelity, drug addiction, blended family struggles, divorce and recovery.

We were married when I was 19 and he was 34.  We got pregnant on the honeymoon, not exactly waiting until I finished school like I planned...  He was cheating by the time I was giving birth 9 months later.  And continued for a few years and then cooled off for a bit, or at least didn't get caught. The wedding, then the baby, then his son moving in with us, oh, and the new house and my new job, all those things took time and attention away from him, so he had to find it elsewhere. Lots of drama during that time. I was young, raising two children and working.  I couldn't break up the family, but I sure did get resentful and bitter.  And the poor kids, in my effort to save the family, sure did have to hear a lot and probably see a lot, too. Fighting, yelling, arguing, crying.  There were some good times, I will admit, some fun memories, trips and such.  Highlights.  The day to day was awful.  Neither of us wanted to be around the other, but I stayed for the kids and he stayed because it was convenient.  A few years later another "other woman" came into the picture. Drama returned to my life. It was like a soap opera, it was so ridiculous.  My step-son had moved out by this time, but my daughter got to witness all the drama first-hand at an age when she could remember. Rewind to fighting, yelling, arguing, crying. Increase the level of anger and bitterness growing inside of me. Our home was not a fun place to be. I poured myself into work, volunteering to work overtime any opportunity that came along. He started helping a friend with side jobs of carpentry and handy-man gigs. A lot. And worked a lot of extra hours, but we never had extra money. And then he was working less at his day job and bringing home less each week from there, but always gone and working. I couldn't wrap my brain around it. Bills were stacking up and I couldn't seem to make ends meet anymore... when I asked him about it, he said he spent the money on scratch-off lottery tickets, cigarettes, lost it - a different excuse every week. He was volatile, with emotions running high, always out in the garage if he wasn't working, and paranoid. I was so confused... until one day.  I walked into the hall bathroom and his small tackle bag from his fishing gear was there. Inside it was a spoon, a baggie and a small scale. What in the world could this be for? I walked out to the garage to ask him what it was for and he lost his mind on me - screaming, yelling, grabbing it out of my hands and threatening me to quit spying on him and interfering with his life. I didn't know what it was, but I knew it wasn't good.  Was my husband using drugs?  What 40+ year old man just starts using drugs? That didn't even make sense.  But a few days later, in the living room, a baggie fell out of the pocket of his button down flannel shirt. White powder... and it seemed like a lot of it. He had left the house and the shirt was laying on the floor. When I was putting it up, there it was, right in front of me. I had a friend stay with my daughter while I went to the police station.  I made up a story about how a friend of his left it at our house and I wanted to know what it was. The look on that cop's face told me he read right through me (I never have been able to lie very well...) but he said there's no way that amount was real drugs that someone just left laying around, but he would test it and come back in 15 minutes. When he came around the corner after the time ticked slower than I can remember in a long time, he looked a lot more serious and had a list of questions for me. Turned out, that little baggie I brought in was the most recent form of meth being brought in from the Mexican cartel - very potent, very deadly and very expensive. He was worried for my safety when whoever was looking for their bag found out it was gone. I went home, shaken and more confused than ever.  Really - what 40+ year old man decides he is going to start using METH and brings it in the home with his wife and child? And, I guess, sells it from the same home? Drama ensues. I have to leave, it's not safe, so my daughter and I go stay with family. Husband tears the house apart, goes crazy that I've found it and given it to the police. Then he wants to go to treatment because he as a problem. Two days later, he wants out of treatment because there's no problem. I stay with family. Less than a week later, he's arrested for that little problem and I won't get him out of jail. His daughter thinks he's working out of town. His mother bails him out. We are back in the house, but he swears he is clean. What do I do? How did this happen? He has to go back in a few weeks for a court date and never comes home. He tested positive for drugs and went to jail. This time nobody bailed him out... He sat in there for months. I was a dutiful wife and tried to support him once he decided he would join a drug rehab program. It was for the best, after all.  He spent our 10 year wedding anniversary and his 44th birthday in jail.  When he got out, I tried to be supportive while he went to NA meetings and drug court appointments. He did well. He got sober and didn't use anymore.  He was unemployed and did little to contribute to the household.  It was too much.  The damage to our marriage was far beyond repair.  After about nine months of his treatment and when he was nearly graduating the program the court ordered for him, our 11 year anniversary rolled around. Neither one of us acknowledged it.  I filed for divorce one week later. It was ugly, he was shocked, wouldn't leave the house, wouldn't contribute to bills or mortgage. He planted himself on the couch and would not leave, despite me asking nicely and then yelling not so nicely for about a month. I then paid to have him served since he would not sign the papers I filed. He still would not leave and I was beside myself on how to handle the situation. I knew I could not afford an attorney, but my sanity could not afford him being in the home anymore. I borrowed money from my parents, and the week I was ready to meet an attorney, he left. He had graduated from his program and left without telling his daughter goodbye and only taking a few of his personal belongings. It was a relief and a catastrophe at the same time. He was gone! And then, he was gone. My daughter was devastated. He didn't call for a few weeks, and when he did, he told her he had moved to his mom's (about 6 hours away) and would see her soon. He was angry and bitter with me. I guess I can't blame him, but I was so busy dealing with my daughter's emotions that I didn't have too much time to think about it. I also liked to live in a little place called Denial-land, and didn't deal with my own emotions very often.  We officially divorced after a mediation where I gave up a huge amount of my 401K so I could keep the house to minimize disruption for my daughter's life. I also took on ALL the debt (we had a lot due to his unemployment and knack for spending) and let him keep the truck that was in my name, though he was required to take over payments.  I reminded myself it was only money and it was time to move on. I also thought the favorable agreement for him would make things easier and we could be amicable, which was best for our child.  Boy, was I wrong!  It took me a while, but I finally realized that no matter what I did, said or gave up, I was always going to be the witch of the situation. After a couple years, I owned being the witch, because if he was going to call me one, I might as well be one, right? Well, a few years later and I've learned it is really not worth it. And, actually, since he left the area again (yes, he moved back and forth a few times), it's been nice and peaceful. My daughter had him in her life mostly regularly until she was about 12, and then he was in and out, mostly out. He continues to be mostly out. I understand he's still not a drug user, but do hear there are other addictions he's battling. I went to counseling after the divorce but stayed pretty angry and bitter with men for a while. A couple years later, a friend was going to something called DivorceCare after her world was shattered by her husband's affair - he reunited with his high school sweetheart and left her after many of what she thought were happy years of marriage. DivorceCare changed my life. Honestly. I reconnected with God and found a peace in forgiveness. It was freeing and joyful and I can't tell you how many people asked me what changed... I had changed! It was great. Shortly after that I met the man that I am so proud to call my husband and we are truly happy. I never knew what a healthy and loving relationship looked like, and it's amazing. We laugh and travel and enjoy each other's company more than I ever thought possible. We support each other and cheer each other on to be successful in life. Oh, and we're drama-free, for the most part. Did I mention it's amazing?
And my daughter? Well, she's almost 20 now and she's got some demons. Addiction is a disease and is also hereditary. I attend a 12-step program for people who have an addicted loved one. I never dealt with the disease that ultimately ended my unhealthy first marriage. Well, I don't know if it was the disease of addiction, or my apathy to the relationship and situation anymore, but, either way - I never dealt with how his addiction impacted and affected me. And when I learned my daughter was a drug user, it was more than I could bear. My reactions - physical, emotional, mental - were not healthy for me or my current marriage. I put our family's plans at risk and struggled in many areas of my life. I had to get a hold of things. I am thankful for a wonderful counselor and the 12-step program and the people that I have met through this journey.  Several months into the program I have tools to cope with various situations, friends to call and meet any time I need or want, and an understanding that God has control of it all.  I wish I had known about this resource 11 years ago when my life was first touched very directly with addiction, but I am thankful I found it now. I am not alone in my struggle. I did not cause my daughter's addiction. I cannot control my daughter's addiction or choices. And I cannot cure it for her.  I pray for her every day. I love her and miss her, but know that only when she is ready to face her demons will she overcome them. And, sadly, I also know she may never do that. It breaks my heart in a way I don't even understand, but I cling to hope and have peace and joy, despite the sadness of the situation.
If you love someone who is addicted to drugs or alcohol, please realize there is help for you. Yes, you... you probably do not even realize how much you are hurting and how out of control your own life is. There are resources and counselors and group meetings that will walk this journey with you.  You are not alone.  I still cling to Jeremiah 29:11 and I know His plan is more amazing than anything I could ever dream of. I am not alone.

P's Story

This story is told from the perspective of our sister, P.  It is related to family struggles, mental health issues and addiction in loved ones, custody of her grandson and how she is surviving it all.  If you are interested in the mosaic heart healing process please reach me and I will get you in touch with P and the group (located in The Woodlands, Texas).

January, 2017

Christmas 2016 ~ Years ago before my girls were born, out antiquing I purchased a Christmas plate of a sweet little blonde boy. After my two sweet brown-haired girls were born, I always laughed a bit when I'd set out the plate year after year. This year when I unwrapped the plate, the tears welled up.  That little boy… my grandson... was now hanging on my aging and worn out hip in all his wild, blonde-haired glory.   I took him with me to set out the plate. As I was reaching to set the plate on the shelf, that beloved boy knocks the plate out of my hand, and it breaks on the carpet in 3 pieces. I honestly wanted to sit and cry, as it felt so much like my life of brokenness.  But then I remembered a special group I'm in where we take broken china and turn its brokenness into beauty in the form of a mosaic heart.  Never a more perfect example!  My plate that I can't help but see God's work in for the last 25 years will now become an ornament on my tree, forever reminding me of beauty through brokenness... truly the theme of 2016 at our house.   I took my broken pieces to our workshop… both the china and those of my heart…. and made a new beautiful ornament.   From that first workshop, I left a beautiful piece to look at but still one needing some work after the china sets to dry.  As I left, there was some new drama emerging within our family, and I knew my human heart was going to get messy again too… plus add in some colds for the whole house (but we all know the physical ailments are way easy than the emotional!)…. but just major dark muck.  I returned the next week to “the garage” to throw some mess (the grout) on my mosaic ornament heart.  I got to sit in peace, in community with supportive friends, and smooth out the grout and polish the tiles a bit, and the beauty came through again.  Again, there before me, was so much parallel to my life and the events of the previous week.  I have to continuously polish the tiles to see the beauty fully.  I hope you get the opportunity to receive the healing that comes from creating an art piece that can truly work you through a struggle in your life.   This is a great place to create, a great community to talk to, or just create alongside in needed silence…. you are not alone here!

Finished "broken" hearts

Beloved Christmas Plate

P– daughter to my amazing parents, wife to my beloved husband of 30 years, mother to two smart beautiful daughters, custodial parent to my precious wild blonde-haired grandson

~~and “tough lover” to my daughter - mother to my grandson - who struggles with mental illness and battles addiction each and every day…. for her I will fight for the cause until the day my human heart stops beating.   This heart can take a lot of breaking before it quits fighting for the one she loves~~