The days between February 19th and March 16th were stressful and tense. For two people living in an 800 square foot apartment, we didn't see each other very much. Our once awkward apartment layout, turned to be useful when the one bedroom that was not attached to the rest of the apartment turned into Dale's room. He continued to stay at home with our son during the day while I was at work, and he went to work at night, right when I got home.
I remember very few details during that month. I remember that his parents came to visit one weekend during that time. But I don't remember anything about it.
I do remember that we discussed separating. Our relationship was so toxic and I was just a lump of a person. I had no personality and no backbone left to me. I still had hope that we could somehow end up back together again and happy. But I knew that wouldn't be possible if we were not healthy. I knew for my own sake, I needed to be away from him in order to become healthy again. When we were together we would find ourselves in a spiral downward and each time, we fell further and further down.
He wanted a plan. He wanted my plan. How did I foresee all of this taking place and how would it all work? That was fair enough, except the fact that it was near impossible to talk with him. He was angry and defensive throughout that entire month. I was the one who could afford to maintain our apartment on my own salary, he couldn't, yet he felt that I was the one who should move out. After all of his talks about us not being right for one another and divorce, now, he didn't like this plan of separation. Like a good lawyer, he had an answer and an attack for everything.
He did agree to go to family therapy with me. I was in the process of finding a counselor for the two of us to meet with simultaneously. We both desperately needed help. Had he decided not to come, I would have on my own. That's where I now stood.
On March 16, 2011 Dale got a tattoo. It was of a kraken. A kraken is legendary sea monster that was so large that it could bring down entire ships. The tattoo was on the inside bicep of his right arm. I only remember seeing this tattoo once or twice. The artist did an amazing job, just like he did on so many of Dale's other tattoos. But this one was different. It had such a dark meaning behind it as it had a direct connection to Dale's depression.
I knew that things were bad. I knew that things were tense. I knew that Dale was capable of manipulating me too. I knew that I couldn't revert back because Dale's depression made an appearance. I had let his illness control my lift as much as it controlled his. I also knew now that by letting myself be controlled and manipulated by him, I had become an enabler. None of that worked, look at where we had come to and what we had become.
When Dale arrived home that night, we had some words. I do not remember what they were. But, I do remember standing in our hallway, head spinning, and looking into the kitchen and watching him and listening to Adele's new song that was playing. He turned to me and said her words, "We could of had it all..."
Two months later, we had nothing.
I remember very few details during that month. I remember that his parents came to visit one weekend during that time. But I don't remember anything about it.
I do remember that we discussed separating. Our relationship was so toxic and I was just a lump of a person. I had no personality and no backbone left to me. I still had hope that we could somehow end up back together again and happy. But I knew that wouldn't be possible if we were not healthy. I knew for my own sake, I needed to be away from him in order to become healthy again. When we were together we would find ourselves in a spiral downward and each time, we fell further and further down.
He wanted a plan. He wanted my plan. How did I foresee all of this taking place and how would it all work? That was fair enough, except the fact that it was near impossible to talk with him. He was angry and defensive throughout that entire month. I was the one who could afford to maintain our apartment on my own salary, he couldn't, yet he felt that I was the one who should move out. After all of his talks about us not being right for one another and divorce, now, he didn't like this plan of separation. Like a good lawyer, he had an answer and an attack for everything.
He did agree to go to family therapy with me. I was in the process of finding a counselor for the two of us to meet with simultaneously. We both desperately needed help. Had he decided not to come, I would have on my own. That's where I now stood.
On March 16, 2011 Dale got a tattoo. It was of a kraken. A kraken is legendary sea monster that was so large that it could bring down entire ships. The tattoo was on the inside bicep of his right arm. I only remember seeing this tattoo once or twice. The artist did an amazing job, just like he did on so many of Dale's other tattoos. But this one was different. It had such a dark meaning behind it as it had a direct connection to Dale's depression.
I knew that things were bad. I knew that things were tense. I knew that Dale was capable of manipulating me too. I knew that I couldn't revert back because Dale's depression made an appearance. I had let his illness control my lift as much as it controlled his. I also knew now that by letting myself be controlled and manipulated by him, I had become an enabler. None of that worked, look at where we had come to and what we had become.
When Dale arrived home that night, we had some words. I do not remember what they were. But, I do remember standing in our hallway, head spinning, and looking into the kitchen and watching him and listening to Adele's new song that was playing. He turned to me and said her words, "We could of had it all..."
Two months later, we had nothing.
