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| When
Jacob returned I had stopped myself from crying. He was
very excited because he had gotten the new Transformer
that he wanted. May God bless this child; he was so happy
go lucky. I could almost sit there and pretend myself
that Steven was merely on duty. But my heart ached so
badly. Keeping myself from crying was very very
difficult. That, coupled with the fact that I had not
slept but 2 hours on Sunday night (here it was Tuesday
evening) and not eaten or drank anything except for
coffee the whole time. I was a physical wreck, a mental
wreck, and a spiritual wreck. The man that I had loved
and trusted completely was gone. Gone. Completely and
utterly gone. I could not fathom how I would be able to
function. I could not see how I could continue to be a
mother to my precious son. I couldn't figure out how I
was even going to get from one chair to the other.
Nothing seemed to matter. I felt completely defeated and
alone.
The one thing that kept running through my mind was the conversation I had with Jen the day Steven called her and told her to leave us alone. She had said to me that she never meant to be a home wrecker, that she was only working on her belief that always tells people how she feels about them. My response to her then was very cocky. "You did not wreck this home sweetheart... you just made it stronger." I felt like I had the word FOOL plastered on my forehead, and it was flashing.
I could not even tell you what I did for the rest of that night. I am assuming that Jacob went to bed. I don't know if he took a bath or not, if he did his homework or not, if he even talked to me that night. I have not a clue. I was in a walking coma. I believe my friend Brenda came upstairs, but I won't place bets on it. I'm sure people called me, but I don't know who. I know I walked around in the middle of the night, wondering where Steven was, what he was doing, and if he missed me yet. I cannot explain the complete destruction this hit me with. He was really gone. I truly wanted to die. Yes, there was that little angle sitting on my shoulder asking me what Jacob would do without his Muma. I answered it with "He'll have Jen." When I say I was out of my mind with grief, I mean it. This was, in my opinion, worse that if Steven had died (God forbid). Right then, he was not home because he chose it, not because he couldn't be.
Again, I don't know how, but I got Jacob off to school the next day. Now I was working on four days of not sleeping and not eating. I really knew there was something wrong, because food and I have never had a cross word, but I got nauseous just thinking about it. Steven's cousin called me just as I was throwing everything off of my kitchen table. I don't know what I thought that would accomplish, but I thought it would make me feel better. It didn't. I broke the napkin holder Jacob had bought me for Christmas. I cried some more and Kim rushed over.
At this point I could not stop crying. I just cried and cried and cried. I felt like I didn't even have a nose, and my eyes were swollen and full of pus. All I kept saying was "I can't do this without him. I can't do this." And when I say I was crying, I am talking hours, non-stop. Kim, who happens to work at the local hospital, called someone at the hospital and asked what she should do. They told her to bring me to the crisis center. She instead found the number for the counselor I had called the day before on the base. At least he was part of my insurance plan. She made an appointment for me to get in there rightaway, and Brenda took me. I cried all the way to Newport. And poor Brenda was scared to death of driving that far. The last long trip she took like that when she was driving resulted in a horrible car accident, and she hadrefused to drive anywhere out of town since. But, I guess she saw that I needed help, and she bit the bullet and took me. I looked over at her at one point during the ride and said, "I know you are praying that we don't get into an accident, but I am hoping we do." I didn't even put my seat belt on, which I have NEVER done since the day my son was born.
We got to the therapists office, and the receptionist hugged me. I tried to fill out paperwork, but still, I could not stop crying. The therapist came in and took me to her office. At this point my jaw was shivering, my whole body was shaking, I was close to hyperventilating, and I was pale. She called an ambulance. She said that I was dehydrated, and also going into shock. When I say rough shape, I mean rough shape.
The ambulance came, and I was still crying. They started me on an IV, and gave me oxygen. They tried to ask me questions, but I could not answer them. All I kept thinking was "What if Steven sees Brenda following the ambulance? Will he worry, or will he spit?" That made me cry harder. When I got to the hospital they put me on a room alone, where I now wailed! Like a baby I cried out loud, and long! I remember screaming that I could not do this, was not going to do this, refused to do this! I don't know who I thought was listening, but I was talking. Finally I started to calm down, and began thinking about what I would do if they thought they were going to keep me. Part of me wanted to stay; so that someone would have to call Steven and tell him I was in the hospital. But another part of me, the proud part, didn't want it. I soooooooo did not want to be weak. But I felt weak. I even got mad at Brenda, because she had the nerve to see me like that. I did not want that. I wanted to be strong in her eyes also. Guess I blew that one, huh?
A doctor came in, and checked me out. She said they could either keep me or release me, but that since they had gotten fluid in me, I would start to feel better and better, as long as I continued to drink. I again weighed the option of staying, but in the end, I went home, after promising not to hurt myself, and to make an appointment with a psychotherapist when I got home. The ride home was very quiet, and I was very calm. Very tired too. I decided to check my voice mail again... I don't know, I think I was hoping that I would have a message from Steven saying that he changed his mind and wanted to come home. No such luck.
There were two messages from Steven, but they were worse than if he had not called at all.
Please sign my guestbook and let me know you were here! Thank You!
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