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.