As stated in Part 1 of this, after the incident where Sean, my future husband at the time, hugged me while I was crying, we started seeing each other regularly. He even left and went to his brothers downstate for a couple weeks and I found out what his brothers number was through some friends and called him down there and told him he better get his ass back up here because I was waiting for him…. lol, oh my. He was on the bus back up here the next day…. 🙂 He pretty much moved in with me at that point, I was living in a tiny efficiency apartment, sleeping on the floor while Travis slept in a play pen, and four months later we were married. I was so sure that it was the right thing to do, not taking into account that I depended on Sean to feed my addiction, even though he thought he was helping because he was controlling how much I took, making sure it wasn’t “too much”, just enough to keep me from getting sick. I now know that somewhere in the back of my mind, this was part of the reason I was with him, part of the reason I married him, this and the fact that he took excellent care of Travis, treating him as if he were his own and loving him that way too I think. Eventually as time went on, we began bickering as couples often do, but it turned into something way more than just bickering, it turned into arguing, fighting, and all out war sometimes. We fought over all kinds of things, but when I was an addict, we mostly fought over that and things related to it. I stole pain medication from him, lied to him, begged him to find ways to get me what I needed to keep from being sick, As I’ve said before, I went to rehab/detox several times and never completed it once, plus all the trips I took to the psychiatric ward. I was terrible, an awful mess. Also as I said before though, I had been praying for a couple of years for the Lord to just please take these cravings away, please take this addiction away…. and one day, I woke up, and it was just gone, the cravings weren’t there anymore. I’ve been clean since. This happened shortly after the birth of our son James, but I was an active addict all the way through his pregnancy. Actually, the doctor had me on a drug called Subutex to help keep me clean, it was supposed to take away the cravings for opiates, kind of in a similar fashion to Methadone. Anyway, Subutex is a main ingredient to Suboxone which is used to stop cravings in opiate addicts. Since I was pregnant I couldn’t take Suboxone. So I took Subutex for almost my whole pregnancy, the doctor who prescribed it told me that if my baby went through withdrawals, they would be a lot less severe than those of a baby born addicted to Methadone. Not true. My son James was born severely addicted and was flown out to the other side of the state within 24 hours of being born, he spent 31 days in the NICU weening off of opiates on Methadone. He went through withdrawals even after the hospital, just not as severe. All because of my stupid addiction, my selfishness, and no this is not a pity party, I don’t feel bad for myself, I do get angry at myself sometimes however. My son is now five years old, healthy, and smart as whip, but it could’ve been different. We’re lucky. So, like I said, shortly after James was born is when the cravings stopped and I stopped abusing opiates. It was great not battling that addiction everyday, trying to fight those cravings and losing…. but I was still battling bad bouts of depression, and they started lasting longer each time it seemed. At one point I was seriously considering shooting myself. I was having postpartum depression after having James and then not being able to take him home with us for thirty-one days, I think it was all getting to me. One day when no one was home I closed and locked our bedroom door, took one of my husbands guns out from behind the door, and I sat down on the bed with it, looking it over, seeing if I could figure out how to load it, and then, I put the gun in my mouth, to see if I could pull the trigger with it in my mouth. I ended up telling Sean about it within the next few days after that incident. I knew then that I needed some kind of help. I ended up being hospitalized like four times in one quarter that year, once for blacking out and trying to stab Sean in the shoulder, but when I spun him around, he had baby James in his arms and it snapped me out of it. I was in a bad way during that time of my life, as far as my depression went, and I was shifting from one mood to the next so rapidly. I have been diagnosed with Ultradian Rapid Cycling Bipolar Disorder. I’m not going to explain right now what that is, but lets just say that it feels like being on a roller coaster of emotions that can change at any given moment. With the help of a great primary care physician and a really good friend, Ms. Sally, whom I began calling my spiritual mom, I was able to start battling this. I was going to mental health regularly and I was doing my best to take my meds consistently. Eventually we received a notice that the man we were renting from had not been paying his land contract payments and that our home would go up for sheriff’s auction in a few weeks. Our only options were to take the house over on land contract, (which it had too many problems for us to do that on our budget), or move. So, we began the search for a place to live. My husband has a felony on his record from thirty something years ago, and hasn’t been in trouble since, but people still held that against us, and finding a place proved harder than we thought. We ended up in a basement apartment, with only one window in the whole place, underneath a tanning salon, on a main road, with no yard or anything else. We originally intended on staying for only a little while, a year at the most, but we ended up being there for almost three years…. and let me tell you, they were three miserable years. Living in a place with no natural light and already being depressed…. HA! I”m sure you can imagine what was bound to happen. My depression just kept getting worse, my marriage just kept getting worse. I also started working on the adult cam website and met D during this time. In my husband’s eyes I can do nothing right, and that is not just an exaggeration. In his mind, I am the cause of ALL of our problems, and he will/has even gone as far as to tell this to people we know, including pastors, and he’s completely serious about this. He truly believes that our problems are all from me, he says that he’ll admit he doesn’t make them better by being nasty and mean to me and yelling, etc, but that if I didn’t do what I do, he wouldn’t do what he does. He always tells me to fix my problems and our problems will go away. To me, that is just soooo infuriating. He’s almost fifty-five years old, I highly doubt he’s going to change his ways now. He is forever getting nasty with me, calling me names, putting me down. He has told me before that getting off drugs wasn’t enough. I know I am not a gem, I’m not easy to live with by any means, I am aware of this. I am not a good housewife, I don’t clean, or cook, or do laundry, or open mail and respond to it, I don’t pay the bills, (he does), I don’t do the things with my kids that I should do, don’t spend quality time with them like I should. We moved in October of 2014 to a house that we are buying on land contract. It is a beautiful home on 2.3 acres of land with a two car garage and like five outbuildings. Our property is beautiful, has a huge garden plot on it, lots of trees. The house is gorgeous. I have not unpacked one single box, with the exception of the main bathroom, and that’s it. We have a whole garage full of boxes, plus an enclosed porch full, and some in the house…. and I haven’t even started. And obviously I’m not keeping up on the cleaning either. I do not want for this house to end up nasty, it’s embarrassing, yet I just can’t seem to force myself to do anything. I’m tired literally ALL the time, all I ever wanna do is sleep, especially during the day, and then it seems I’m up til late at night. Even when I am awake during the day, I’m sluggish and I have no ambition. My diet is poor, I rarely eat, and when I do, it’s junk, it’s nothing that’s good for me. Yet we don’t have any kind of food assistance and so that doesn’t help, it’s not like we have a huge selection as to what we can buy. So I know my diet plays a part in the way that I feel. I saw a friend recently that I haven’t seen in several years, we sat down and caught up for a bit, and they said to me, “You’ve given up haven’t you…. I can see it in your face when you talk”, and they were right in a sense, I have given up to an extent. I mean, I’m married to a man that I don’t really want to be married to, yet I DO NOT have a choice, and no, no I don’t have a choice seriously. I cannot survive financially without my husband, and because of my physical issues, and mental ones too, I am not able to work the type of jobs that I have the education level to get, since I don’t have a G.E.D. or diploma. Not only that, but I would have to fight for my youngest son, and my chances of winning with my history aren’t that great. Not to mention, Sean is the type that would take off with him to a different state, he doesn’t care what the law says. Also, as sad as it may sound, pathetic, but I can’t raise these boys alone. They have no respect for me and I have no control over them. It’s their dad they listen to, not me, I’m a joke, and when I do try to spank them now or tell them to do something, they laugh. There are a lot of reasons that people just don’t understand as to why I can’t leave my husband. Trust me, if I could, I would. It is not easy being married to one man, but being totally in love with another, it’s not easy when you know you should have all these feelings for your husband, but you feel them for another man…. it is not easy knowing that this other man is happily married, and that even though he loves you, you will never be first place. I get so fucking tired of hurting, I am so tired of aching inside. I wouldn’t actually kill myself, but everyday when I wake up, I am disappointed that I woke up and have to face another day. I pray for the Lord to take me home, to let my time be up, I ask him daily. I am stuck in this life, I made my bed, and now I am lying in it. I married a man that I did not know long enough, and now I am suffering the consequences of it, along with trying to deal with my mental/emotional disorders, mainly depression. Because I did not think ahead like I thought I did. My boys are growing up in this environment that is just not good for them. They are learning things that they should not be learning. I am so afraid they are going to screwed in the head because of their father and myself, and it will be no one’s fault but my own for not saving them, for not protecting them. Everyone tells me how strong I am because of the things I’ve been through since childhood, but you know what, I get tired of being strong, and maybe I just don’t have it in me to be strong any longer. This darkness, it wraps itself around me, as soon I start to see daylight, it wraps me in total darkness…… This is my darkness, and it’s not even the full shebang… the full story. This is a condensed version. Somewhere in this darkness, there has to be a light…. doesn’t there?