Fluff and Stuff. 6.

Fluff and Stuff.  6.


There was filler, of course, between all these events.  But nothing that happened, was significant.  I worked.  Jobs.  Lots and lots of different jobs once I was out of the military.  Shitty jobs.  High paying jobs, low paying jobs.  With the curveballs my life throws me, I work.

Eric was deployed.

When Eric wasn’t deployed, we fought.  We didn’t like each other.  I worked more so I didn’t have to see him. 

Any money that I made working paid bills.  Any money Eric made, which was significantly more than any money I ever made, was expected to fund his lifestyle.  Motorcycles, Oakley sunglasses, iPods, electronics, cars. . . When I got my hair done, or God Forbid, my nails, I was taking money from the household that was necessary.

It was exasperating.

I stopped trying to take care of myself.

I couldn’t give you an exact date, or time, or moment, but somewhere in my marriage, not only did I lose myself mentally, I lost myself physically.

I had babies.  I got fat.

Eric told me no one would want me because I was fat.  I ate more. 

It was a vicious cycle.

When Eric was gone, I would lose weight.  I would feel beautiful.  Anytime Eric deployed, it was like a curtain of darkness was removed.  I could see the world.  I could see all the people in the world.  All those people out there, the scary ones I shouldn’t ever talk to… they were nice.  They liked me.  They wanted to be my friend!  I felt like Sally Fields. 

I made friends.  We had movie nights and make overs and mom groups and playdates and I was doing every little thing I was supposed to be doing…

But did you order pizza Friday?


I cancelled your access to our checking account because you bounced a check.

I’m 21.  My husband is overseas.  I work for pennies and have two babies in diapers, one is sick and needs special formula.  I am being abused from thousands of miles away.

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