Thursday, September 10, 2015

The in between years

When I left Michael I was so unsure of the world around me and myself I often wondered if the floor under me would hold.  I wrote in the “Prodigal Daughter” years ago that, “In 1994 I was heralded out the front door amid pomp and circumstance.  Seven years later I was quietly sneaked into my community threw the back door.”  I was broken and half dead.  I had long ago surrendered my soul and any shred of decency to Michael and his addiction. 

I moved back into my old room with my parents, like so many of my generation.  I had nowhere else to go, and I am grateful that when I fell, they caught me.  My father, as always, was true to his word and paid for my divorce.  In Louisiana you must be granted separation prior to your divorce.  We filled the papers in or around July 4th, 2001, my own personal independence day.  I loved what the lawyer told me.  I will never forget it.  “In six months, if you two are not found in bed together, you will be granted a divorce.”  And so it was.  In December of 2001 a motion for divorce was filed.  It was granted in March of 2002 just in time for my birthday.  We were granted what is called a “102 vanilla divorce,” meaning there was no property or children to argue over.  I never had to see Michael for the signing of any of the papers and we never had to appear in court.  Everything was handled in house.
I remember the joy and elation I felt of driving my own car, and going where I wanted, when I wanted.  Mike drove most of the time, and we only had the one car.  Mike must have told me I was stupid with directions or something, because I remember navigating to Liz’s office on my own one day and how excited I was when I got there, that I had done it by myself. 

Mike liked to control everything.  We were riding in his old Topaz one day and I wanted to change the radio station.  He pushed my hand away from the dial and said, “One day when you have your own car you can change the radio station.”  I cannot tell you what pleasure it gave me to give it back to him some years later.  We had just bought a new Saturn in my name.  He went to change the radio station and I pushed his hand away and said, “One day when you have your own car you can change the radio station.”  He looked so shocked!
Those early days were filled with wonderment and sadness for me.  Wonderment that I had somehow survived, I still don’t understand how.  The freedom of being able to watch what I wanted on TV and the ability to express some of my long held beliefs that I had to hide or squash around Mike.  I had changed myself into someone I didn’t recognize, to appease him, and try to keep him from having violent outbursts.  That was really sad for me.

I spent the next year and a half chasing boys, recovering and trying to figure out who I was. I remained in counseling with Liz even after I lost my job in the Summer of 2002. I feel now that if I had not done that foundational work in those early days, answering my life’s questions and healing I would never have found Jay, wanted him or much less kept him.  Somewhere in there I began going to Overeaters Anonymous and Ala-non.  Working the twelve steps became a major part of my life. I changed my eating habits, got into yoga and swimming, and for the first time began to lose weight.  Between graduating college and meeting Jay I lost almost 90lb. 
And yes there were boys, Charlie, Joe and finally Jay.  My mom set me up on a blind date with her 6’6” checker from Wal-Mart.  I chased Charlie for about a year.  We had a few dates and he began to take me to his Baptist church.  I converted not long after 9/11.  I was baptized a few months later.  I think part of it was to get Charlie, but I think I was also looking for forgiveness in the way I had treated Mike in the end.  I felt a lot of guilt about having been Buddhist.  I knew I would go to hell.  I think I also wanted help with the PTSD and the tapes of Mike abusing me continuingly playing in my head. 

But Charlie… Charlie was gorgeous, tall and red headed.  He was very timid.  I would come later to find out that he had OCD quite badly.  He would do things to me like make a date with me and not show up.  I would go to his house, see his car, climb the stairs to his house, and knock on his door.  I could hear the radio on inside, could hear him moving about and he would not answer, despite me banging on the door and calling his name.  He would not take my phone calls.  I feel I had a long and tumultuous relationship with his answering machine.  When we did make out on his 4 poster bed, he made me unscrews the posts so that they did not hit the wall and so his neighbors would not know we were making out.  I still never understood that one. When Charlie did not show for my baptism, which I had called and invited him too, I knew I was done with him.  He was such a sweet guy, that I believe he could not bring himself to tell me to go away, to tell me that he didn’t like me.  I was tired of chasing men what did not want me.
Joe showed back up in my life not long after I parted company with Charlie.  I had lost touch with Joe.  I emailed his sister, told her that I was now divorced and hoped Joe was well.  She emailed back with Joe’s new email address and told me that he would love to see me.  I nearly fainted.  Joe ever the gentleman, would not sleep with me until I was officially divorced.  He was also worried that he would get in trouble with the Army, for messing with a married woman. 

Now the sex with Joe was the best I had ever had, up until that point.  He was a kind, companionate, and responsive lover.  He wanted me and I wanted him, and he was not shy about it.  I had not seen that look in a man’s eyes in a long time. We had so many years of pent up desires for each other.  I was also the first time in a long time that I had sex without having pain.  Sex with Mike was frequently rough and hard, and I would often bleed and have pain afterwards.  Joe and I had one or two wonderful afternoon trysts and it was over.  Joe was moving to Georgia to his new assignment. 
I wanted to try the long distance thing.  I wrote and called him.  Finally the email came that he was, “actively involved in the dating scene in Georgia.”  I was so hurt!  I wrote him a nasty email.  I don’t think I have ever used fuck so many times in anything I have ever written.  So Joe and I parted ways.  Then the war started.  I became terrified he had been killed.  I listened to the news for his name and I Googled him frequently.  It was in one of those search engines, on Christmas Eve that I found him on MySpace.  My Gods he was alive!  I wept.  He had just returned from serving with the UN in Germany, with his then wife and baby boy.  He had never been sent to Iraq or Afghanistan.  I immediately contacted him and he came out not long after for a visit.  It was good to see him.  Joe and I remain in contact thru Facebook.  He is now remarried, to a wonderful woman that loves him and his son, and takes wonderful care of them.  I could not be happier for him.

Ilsa

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