CAROL ELIZABETH

I always assumed I would be a mom “someday,” but I never thought about what the circumstances would be when that time came. I guess I figured I would be married and living in my first home. That’s how it works, right? But I chose to marry someone with a drug problem. That’s right-I knew he had a drug problem, but married him anyway. I couldn’t have imagined how it would turn out. In my naïve mind I believed that if I loved someone enough, they would change. The harsh reality was something I was neither prepared for nor equipped to deal with. However, as hard as this story is to tell, it undoubtedly helped shape me into the person I am today.

I met my ex-husband shortly before graduating high school and we dated on and off while I was in college. He didn’t become an addict until I was in my senior year of college. I didn’t realize this at the time because I only saw him on breaks. Occasionally he would make the trip from MA to NY to visit. Our visits were brief so it was easy enough for him to hide his addiction. But when we moved in together soon after I graduated, I started to notice some odd behavior. He would spend long periods of time in the bathroom and every once in a while, I could hear the flick of his lighter. At first, I didn’t think too much of it. But I noticed that he had become very moody and easily agitated. Very rarely did he seem happy. At this point I still didn’t have a clue what was going on, but I knew things were “off.”

But then, it seemed that each time he got paid there was an issue. There was a problem with payroll or “they” lost his check. I still wasn’t fully grasping what was happening. I just knew that when it came time to pay the bills it was all falling on me. It wasn’t until I found my own money missing that things started to click. But I didn’t want to believe it. Soon a ring my father gave me for my 21st birthday went missing. Then my camera, also a gift, went missing. I confronted him many times and he would fly into a rage. I didn’t know what to do. It was all so surreal and scary. I no longer had a sense of security.

I had known this man for 4 years as a kind, loving person. Where was that man? The person I was living with was a stranger. But the relationship continued and I became more co-dependent with every passing day. I even agreed to get married thinking that would make him happy. Things went from bad to worse. He stole checks and forged my name. We had mounds of debt. I was desperate and too ashamed to let my family know what was going on. I still thought that I could “fix” him and somehow control this uncontrollable situation before anyone else could figure out how dysfunctional it was. I distinctly remember thinking that if we had a baby, that would give him a reason to get better. Through my co-dependent haze, I saw this as a loving way to help him. In truth it was pure manipulation. But I honestly didn’t recognize this at the time. I thought I was being kind and compassionate and even had a twisted sense of pride about it.