Reblogged from my old blog. Perfectly Perfect Once.

I was perfectly perfect once. I had a perfectly perfect marriage once. I had a perfectly perfect life. I was perfectly perfect with my what I had. Until everything suddenly wasn’t perfectly perfect. My husband forgot what was important to him. Drugs pulled him under. Friends were more important. To him that was his perfectly perfect. His band was perfectly perfect. His company he owned and ran coming to a halt was perfectly perfect to him. I wouldn’t call the struggles that started perfect by any means. I counted my blessings. Often. I thought horrid things like how fucking perfectly perfect it is that I who has done everything right has to pick up this mess while he gets to run around acting like a child. This lasted for months….

then my pills went missing. The first time when the bottle was half empty I thought I was going crazy. I have a teenager struggling in life at this point and that was my worst fear. So I started counting pills and keeping an eye on her for ‘drug like behavior’. The pills were prescribed for my migraines. Pretty major. It was perfectly perfect that I worked from home and was able to keep an eye on my child because I was freaked out that I knew where the pills had gone. I watched closely and was confused. She acted fine. A couple weeks went by and I refilled the medication. Not even three days later they were gone. But not lost like I had lost them, the bottle had been emptied. I freaked out. Cried to my husband. He suggested maybe it was my oldest and commented “you know she is having a hard time right now”.

As hard as it was I confronted my teen. Said I was concerned. Said I was worried for her and for my severe headaches that I would be unable to ask the doctor for more medication for. She looked shocked. I hurt her feelings for even asking her or assuming it was her. She said MOM I SWEAR I WOULD NEVER DO THAT TO YOU… LEAVE YOU WITH NOTHING WITH THAT KIND OF PAIN. My last migraine put me in the hospital unable to talk or move my left side. At first doctors thought I had a stroke. Needless to say there are bad. Needless to say I know my daughter. I know when she is lying and she wasn’t lying. I look across the room and catch a “OH SHIT” look on my husbands face. He walks past me to the bedroom I follow him. He is crying. He starts sobbing that he is so sorry for suggesting it was her, that he thought I would just hide them better and assume she or her friends had taken them, that I wouldn’t actually confront her. He said that he felt like a piece of shit in which my response was good. Thing is I felt bad for him. I had never seen my husband cry. I felt so many emotions at that moment. I felt like I had to be the responsible one. The one who thought straight. The one who was the problem solver. So many feelings and emotions rushed through me. I was pissed. I was hurt. I was sad. I was lied to, stolen from, embarrassed for blaming my CHILD. Ashamed for letting her current behavior, and the way she dressed and the types of friends she had lead me to blaming her. The feelings of my first husband calling me a goodie two shoes for never doing or trying drugs (any even pot) filled me. Why do drugs prescribed or not always play a role in my relationships? Why do I not understand addiction. The way I handled it was I put both my hands on his chests and with tear filled eyes I pressed into him as I yelled, “YOU WILL APOLOGIZE TO MY CHILD, YOUR STEP DAUGHTER FOR SAYING WHAT YOU SAID, YOU WILL GET HELP, YOU WILL NOT STEAL FROM ME, YOU WILL NOT LIE TO ME, YOU WILL LEARN FROM YOUR MISTAKE. YOU WILL NOT TOUCH ME, TALK TO ME, LOOK IN MY DIRECTION OR ASK ME FOR SHIT UNTIL I DECIDE I WANT TO FORGIVE YOU. ALSO IF YOU EVER DO THIS TO ME AGAIN I PROMISE YOU I WILL DO THREE THINGS. I WILL CALL YOUR MOTHER AND TELL HER WHAT IS GOING ON. I WILL CALL OUR DOCTOR AND TELL HIM WHAT IS GOING ON, AND I WILL MOVE ON IN LIFE AND IN THIS RELATIONSHIP. He cried the entire time holding me as I yelled. I was livid. The word livid now makes sense to me. I have never been livid. Blaming my child?!?!? That was huge. I told him I wish you would have just fucked someone because it would have only made you look bad. Instead by doing this you make me look like an idiot to my child, an addict to my doctor and leave me in pain, pain that resembles a stroke for me at least in an affair only you would look like an idiot.

For a long time I tried to help him. I felt like addiction was a sickness, and I had said in sickness and in health. I tried. It wouldn’t stop. It couldn’t stop.

In the next six months it occurred thee more times. I called his mom and my doctor. Just like I said. Come to find out our doctor, (yes we have the same one) had been prescribing him 60 percosets a MONTH for his shoulder for pain I didn’t even know he had. He told our doctor that he hurt his shoulder at work. His mom said her partner had been missing her pain pills too, (which later he admitted to taking also). I bought a safe for my medication. Do you know what it is like to lock your things away from the person you are married to?

My dad is a cop. We grew up with a k-9 dog. I didn’t even go to parties that there were drugs at because I thought the dog would eat me when I got home. So I never did drugs. Ever. To this day, (I am 36 years old) I have never even done Pot. Unless a medication is prescribed TO me I have never taken it. I won’t even do pot with a doctors permission due to the severity of my migraines because I have such an issue with it. I had no sympathy for him, none. So now we are at a year later and he still is with the band….still living it up like a rock star and I am still at home being a mom, alone, I had one weak day. One.

I put an add on craiglist, strictly friends, w4m, and started talking to HIM. Slowly over six months. We just hit it off. We both had shitty situations at home. It was nothing other than this… monday through friday. chatting online. Emailing. Texting. A couple phone calls. Then one day we decide to meet. We hit it off. The first (easily) four or five times we met we would talk for hours but never did anything. He had a job that these conversations for hours at night could occur. It was amazing. And stemming from six months of nothing but conversation, it was amazing. To get to know someone truly w/o sex was a entire new ball game. You get to a level I can’t explain.

I guess where I am going with this is, I am not saying my affair was justified. It wasn’t. We were wrong in what we did. I just felt like my marriage wasn’t a marriage when I made the choices I did.

Some of you asked why I am still married. I truly hope my husband magically wakes up. So it can be perfectly perfect again. I don’t know how that will happen but I have held out in hoping. I loved him. I loved what we had. I wanted to be married. I wanted to be loved and cherished like not other.

Fucking drugs.

So you get the idea. It holds true for all of us- LIFE WAS PERFECTLY PERFECT ONCE, UNTIL IT WASN’T. LOVE WAS PERFECTLY PERFECT ONCE, UNTIL IT WASN’T. THE PEOPLE WE FALL IN LOVE WITH ALONG THE WAY WERE PERFECTLY PERFECT ONCE UNTIL THEIR WIVES FIND OUT AND YOUR HEART IS RIPPED FROM YOUR CHEST AND YOUR LIFE WAS PERFECTLY PERFECT ONCE.

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