I drank some as I was becoming an adult. I drank in college, off and on. In fact, the night that I lost my virginity, I was probably drunk. I DO remember it, though, so I couldn't have been too drunk. I remember going to the local beer joint and sitting there with friends, poking money into the jukebox, moving to the music, and lamenting about our lives. I met a few 'townies' in there too, and admit to a few one-night stands. It seemed to be the drinking hang out for the college at the time. I also drank in my dorm room. Some of us girls would get together and have a party, and there was almost always alcohol involved. But, again, I didn't really go overboard, or drink in excess.
I guess drinking made me feel grown up in a way. Really, being in college made me feel pretty grown up. I really didn't have an opinion about the drinking one way or the other. I think I did it because other people were doing it. It didn't seem to affect me either way.
After I got married the first time, my husband and I hung around with friends that drank. Not a lot...just on weekends, or during a football game. I drank my share of beer during that time, and liked it. I also remember going to the disco clubs on the weekends, and having some beer there....I probably got drunk a few times, and said some things that I shouldn't have said.
Drinking probably led to some behaviors, at that time, that were not good. For instance, in the process of going to clubs, and hanging out with friends, I got involved with another man...not an affair...just a look across a room, a wink, a promise. Nothing ever came of it, but it nevertheless made my husband feel like crap, and I ended up feeling guilty and responsible. I blame the alcohol for what happened, but I take responsibility for what I did...now. I guess at that time, I liked the way that alcohol made me feel, but I didn't act on it...not then.
It wasn't until later on in our marriage....after I'd had my child, and things started getting difficult with the bills, and the child-rearing, and the stepkids, and the self-esteem. All it took was a few beers, a glass of wine, to make me realize that the effects of the alcohol took me away. It helped me escape, and made me feel so much better.
I was a social drinker, but I quickly turned into a non-social drinker. I drank alone, for the most part. Oh, there were times, later on, when I would go to a bar with my second husband, and sit there and drink a few beers with him. But mostly I drank at home, with a bottle of wine, and tell myself that it was ok.
When I first separated from my first husband, I lived in an apartment, and drank lots of beer. I would go to to the liquor store and buy it, in bottles. Sometimes I would buy malt liquor, or wine. Then, I quit drinking the beer, and went straight to the wine. It seemed quicker, and I liked the taste better.
I would stop at the liquor store once a week and get a bottle of wine. That quickly escalated into several times a week, and then into almost every day. And then, instead of everyday, I bought several bottles when I did go, so I didn't have to go again so soon. This all happened over a time period of several years. I spread my liquor business over several different liquor stores so one of them wouldn't see that I was there all the time...I wasn't fooling anyone, I'm sure.
When my second husband and I moved into our home - a raggedy trailer that I tried to make into a home but ended up hating - I was drinking quite a bit. But I still didn't think it was a problem. He would watch football, gamble, and talk on the phone, and I would sit there and drink. When I cooked I would sip on a glass of wine. When I read, I would sip on a glass of wine. When he would go to the horse racing track and gamble, I would sip on a glass of wine. It was simple - his vice was gambling, mine was drinking. And I had kept up my wandering eye, and my promiscuity.
It wasn't until he and I had had several really loud, physical arguments that I realized that my drinking, and his, at times, was contributing to the problem. But still, I ignored it, and vowed each time that it would be different, that I wouldn't get verbally abusive or loud and argumentative this time.
I tried church. I tried reading self-help books. I tried online help. I tried everything...except admitting that I had a problem. And I still didn't want to do that...cause I didn't have one!!
The thought of an AA meeting - filled with old men in a smoke-filled room - didn't appeal to me at all. I wasn't one of them anyway!! So I continued with my drinking, continued with my loud, yelling fights, continued with my promiscuity, until I hit my bottom. Actually I had several bottoms, but my last one came after I had hit the first few. I had to keep doing research until I was convinced I was an alcoholic.
When I was drinking, I:
- Made an ass of myself by yelling at my husband in front of a whole bar full of people...I even slapped him on the face!!
- Made an ass of myself by talking stupidly in front of my family
- Made an ass of myself by having sex with people I NEVER would have done had I been sober.
- Thought I was being sneaky and innocent by putting my wine in another container and taking it with me
- Made an ass of myself even when I wasn't drinking, simply because of my anger and resentments that had built up in me.
- Got jealous and envious of people when I shouldn't have...
-Probably screwed up a lot of my life, and my daughter's life....
- Blacked out quite a few times. The most embarrassing times were when I knew I had made love to my husband but couldn't remember it.
On August 16, 2001, late at night, after I'd been drinking heavily all evening, I found myself - and I say that because I'd been having blackouts quite frequently up till then - in my car, out in my driveway, and only wearing my underwear, with a glass of wine in one hand, and my cell phone in the other. I have no idea how I got there, or what I was doing, but I was totally ashamed of myself. Nobody around...nobody to see me...but at that point I hated myself for how I got where I was. I haven't had a drink since then.
Monday, December 28, 2009
Thursday, December 10, 2009
It started out slowly....
It started out slowly....
I guess my drinking started out when I was feeling overwhelmed by Jack, his kids, my daughter, my job, the bills, no money, the creditors...blah, blah, blah...and all of that spread out over so many years. I was unhappy with my situation and with my husband being gone. And when I drank, it made me comfortably numb. Oh, what a feeling!!
At first, I would stop by the liquor store on the way home. I had a 12 mile drive to the house every day, and when I would come home from picking Chelsea up from school, I would stop and get a six-pack of beer, or a bottle of wine. Who knew? Chelsea was too little to know, or care....Jack was gone all the time, and his kids....well, none of them were living with us at that particular point in time. So I would bring it home, stick it in the back of the refrigerator, and enjoy it after I put Chelsea to bed. If I knew Jack was going to be home, I would just not have any, or hide it somewhere else. (Is that the first sign of an alcoholic? Oh, but I'm getting ahead of myself...)
It really was nice. It was such a great way to escape. It tasted good, too, and I really didn't think it was a bad thing. I had drank before...in my college years...and in the early years of our marriage. But going to church for those 4 or 5 years had turned me into a tee-totaler, and the idea of drinking anything was BAD...bad, bad. bad!! At least, that's what the church made me feel....wanted me to feel...and I had talked myself into it. Hence, the hiding...the secretive way I went about it.
It wasn't long after that that another man showed some interest in me...a man whom Jack and I both knew and who was also married. Now THAT felt good, too!! Again, the church, obviously, frowned on extra-marital anything, let alone affairs, emotional or otherwise. I let it happen, though. I went with it...I ate it up. It was just a matter of a touch here, and longing look there...but it made me feel so darn special!! Something I apparently hadn't felt for a long time....This attention led to another man's attention...and off I went...I was unfaithful to my husband for the first time in 16 years...Did I feel bad about it? Yes...and no. It made me lose what little respect I had left for him...but I'm not sure I knew that at the time...That's twisted, though...MY infidelity made me lose respect for HIM...how does that work? But I did...
My drinking was still confined to what I could manage in the evenings....I wasn't drinking every day, nor did I want to, at that point. I was working in the deli section of a grocery store in town, and one of the girls there was a good friend of mine. She and I seemed to be going through the same thing, emotionally...and maritally. She was not certain she wanted to be married to her husband anymore. And I was not feeling good about what was going on in my marriage either. We were able to commiserate with each other, and spent some good times together. Even though she was 12 years younger than I was, I think we seemed to click on some level…at least at that point in our lives. I think, looking back, that I was very selfish in some ways, but in others, I think I was finally sticking up for myself, and learning how to look out for me, and not him all the time.
I really did try to be a good wife, off and on. I had my daughter to think about, and after all, he and I were a couple! We had history!! Plus, I didn’t really want to be a statistic…another divorce.
But, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that splitting with Jack at that time, when Chelsea was young, would be better than waiting till when she was, say...16. Wouldn't it? Again, my mind might have been playing games with me, but that's the reasoning I used. So I left. And the catalyst was one night when I went out with the friend that I worked with, and didn't get home until 2 a.m. Ok...my excuse was we had gone to Wichita, and it takes an hour to drive each way. We had a good time going to a couple of clubs, having a few drinks, laughing, and talking about men. It was a good get away for both of us. I really (really!) hadn't been unfaithful that night...nor had I intended to be. But my husband thought it was wrong. Left over church jargon? Maybe....He said "No married woman should be out that late! I want you out of this house by morning!"
So I left...
I don't think he meant it at the time...but it was the opening I needed and was waiting for...
Despite the fact that I was leaving a comfortable home, a semi-secure, long-standing and comfortable marriage, I stayed gone. It was the single most difficult thing I've ever had to do, I think. Why? Because my daughter did not go with me....and that's not how I had visualized it. She stayed with Jack, I thought, until I could have her live with me in whatever living arrangements I could find. But...after it was all said and done...she decided that she wanted to stay with her dad. That broke my heart...in a million pieces. No man, no bottle, nothing could soothe my heart....
But I was going to get through it. I had to...and so I continued to drink. Through the separation, through the moving out, through the discussions, through the jobs....through it all. And it continued to get worse, because I relied on it more and more to make me comfortably numb through my pain.
That first night I stayed with friends. Not the same one I had gone out with, but a different one. It’s all a big fuzzy, but I must have stayed there until I found the little apartment that I lived in for a while. It was a very small place, in town, and I made it into a home for me, and for my daughter. It only had four rooms – a living room, a bedroom, a kitchen, and a bathroom. And it was upstairs, mostly furnished. I moved what little bit I had into it, and continued with my job and kept my chin up the best I could.
I was really hurting inside…I drank a lot of beer, all different kinds, but when that didn't work anymore, I went to wine. I liked wine...my parents drank wine. Wasn't that ok?? I didn't drink much of the hard stuff..I knew it would kill me...
It didn't take long for me to meet my next boyfriend/husband....
I guess my drinking started out when I was feeling overwhelmed by Jack, his kids, my daughter, my job, the bills, no money, the creditors...blah, blah, blah...and all of that spread out over so many years. I was unhappy with my situation and with my husband being gone. And when I drank, it made me comfortably numb. Oh, what a feeling!!
At first, I would stop by the liquor store on the way home. I had a 12 mile drive to the house every day, and when I would come home from picking Chelsea up from school, I would stop and get a six-pack of beer, or a bottle of wine. Who knew? Chelsea was too little to know, or care....Jack was gone all the time, and his kids....well, none of them were living with us at that particular point in time. So I would bring it home, stick it in the back of the refrigerator, and enjoy it after I put Chelsea to bed. If I knew Jack was going to be home, I would just not have any, or hide it somewhere else. (Is that the first sign of an alcoholic? Oh, but I'm getting ahead of myself...)
It really was nice. It was such a great way to escape. It tasted good, too, and I really didn't think it was a bad thing. I had drank before...in my college years...and in the early years of our marriage. But going to church for those 4 or 5 years had turned me into a tee-totaler, and the idea of drinking anything was BAD...bad, bad. bad!! At least, that's what the church made me feel....wanted me to feel...and I had talked myself into it. Hence, the hiding...the secretive way I went about it.
It wasn't long after that that another man showed some interest in me...a man whom Jack and I both knew and who was also married. Now THAT felt good, too!! Again, the church, obviously, frowned on extra-marital anything, let alone affairs, emotional or otherwise. I let it happen, though. I went with it...I ate it up. It was just a matter of a touch here, and longing look there...but it made me feel so darn special!! Something I apparently hadn't felt for a long time....This attention led to another man's attention...and off I went...I was unfaithful to my husband for the first time in 16 years...Did I feel bad about it? Yes...and no. It made me lose what little respect I had left for him...but I'm not sure I knew that at the time...That's twisted, though...MY infidelity made me lose respect for HIM...how does that work? But I did...
My drinking was still confined to what I could manage in the evenings....I wasn't drinking every day, nor did I want to, at that point. I was working in the deli section of a grocery store in town, and one of the girls there was a good friend of mine. She and I seemed to be going through the same thing, emotionally...and maritally. She was not certain she wanted to be married to her husband anymore. And I was not feeling good about what was going on in my marriage either. We were able to commiserate with each other, and spent some good times together. Even though she was 12 years younger than I was, I think we seemed to click on some level…at least at that point in our lives. I think, looking back, that I was very selfish in some ways, but in others, I think I was finally sticking up for myself, and learning how to look out for me, and not him all the time.
I really did try to be a good wife, off and on. I had my daughter to think about, and after all, he and I were a couple! We had history!! Plus, I didn’t really want to be a statistic…another divorce.
But, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that splitting with Jack at that time, when Chelsea was young, would be better than waiting till when she was, say...16. Wouldn't it? Again, my mind might have been playing games with me, but that's the reasoning I used. So I left. And the catalyst was one night when I went out with the friend that I worked with, and didn't get home until 2 a.m. Ok...my excuse was we had gone to Wichita, and it takes an hour to drive each way. We had a good time going to a couple of clubs, having a few drinks, laughing, and talking about men. It was a good get away for both of us. I really (really!) hadn't been unfaithful that night...nor had I intended to be. But my husband thought it was wrong. Left over church jargon? Maybe....He said "No married woman should be out that late! I want you out of this house by morning!"
So I left...
I don't think he meant it at the time...but it was the opening I needed and was waiting for...
Despite the fact that I was leaving a comfortable home, a semi-secure, long-standing and comfortable marriage, I stayed gone. It was the single most difficult thing I've ever had to do, I think. Why? Because my daughter did not go with me....and that's not how I had visualized it. She stayed with Jack, I thought, until I could have her live with me in whatever living arrangements I could find. But...after it was all said and done...she decided that she wanted to stay with her dad. That broke my heart...in a million pieces. No man, no bottle, nothing could soothe my heart....
But I was going to get through it. I had to...and so I continued to drink. Through the separation, through the moving out, through the discussions, through the jobs....through it all. And it continued to get worse, because I relied on it more and more to make me comfortably numb through my pain.
That first night I stayed with friends. Not the same one I had gone out with, but a different one. It’s all a big fuzzy, but I must have stayed there until I found the little apartment that I lived in for a while. It was a very small place, in town, and I made it into a home for me, and for my daughter. It only had four rooms – a living room, a bedroom, a kitchen, and a bathroom. And it was upstairs, mostly furnished. I moved what little bit I had into it, and continued with my job and kept my chin up the best I could.
I was really hurting inside…I drank a lot of beer, all different kinds, but when that didn't work anymore, I went to wine. I liked wine...my parents drank wine. Wasn't that ok?? I didn't drink much of the hard stuff..I knew it would kill me...
It didn't take long for me to meet my next boyfriend/husband....
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
The first few years of her life...
Despite the fact that we had very little money, and I wasn't working, we seemed to do ok...at least from my point of view. My job, at that point, was to take care of my daughter the best way I knew how. I was nursing her, and that took a lot of time right there. Jack wanted to help out, and he did...as much as he could. He loved her, it was easy to see....
It took some time for my body to adjust to being a new mom, but it worked out. It took even longer for my mind to adjust...but that happened ....eventually, too. I got into a routine with her and with myself. I managed to learn about nursing and how she was the one that regulates it - not me. So I let her. I had a little help and advice from friends, but mostly what I knew I learned from reading...and from the fact that I was patient. If I hadn't been, I think i would have given up..like I see a lot of young girls do these days. Nursing is not easy - at first. But the longer I stayed with it, the more I liked it!! No messy bottles...no heating up the milk..no MIXING the milk...and it was easier to feed on demand, which I had decided to do. At least at first. And, when we went somewhere, I didn't have to worry about how many bottles to bring along, whether they would spoil, or where I was going to heat them up! She would cry to eat, and I was ready! In fact....there were times I was ready before she was!! It's amazing how Mother Nature works all that out for us...and how it was intentioned to feed our babies the milk we already have!!
I remember a few times that she threw up that milk on her daddy..at the most inopportune times. It was funny...probably not for him, but it was for me. I had to learn what I could eat that wouldn't make her do that...whatever I ate, SHE ate too!!
We were still attending the Baptist church at that time. There seemed to be a lot of babies at that time, and I felt like I had a lot of friends in the young mothers. What I didn't know, and eventually found out, was that having children seemed to be a hobby of these women! Some of them had lots of babies, and were intending to have more!! There was something in the back of my mind that didn't like that idea...and a few of the other things that were going on then...like the man being the 'head of the household' and stuff like that. I could go along with someone having to BE the head of the house...but these men took it to a different level!! It was like the women couldn't say anything! And if they did, it was really not counted anyway!! HE made all the decisions!!
Jack also had a hard time with that...I think he struggled with it just like I did.. He had friends who he would go to for advice, just like I did....I wanted to be a part..I wanted to be what God wanted me to be. So did he...But he struggled with the fact that didn't own a suit, nor did he want to wear one...the fact that he smoked cigarettes, and the folks in the church didn't like that....He wanted to be the "head of the house'...but he wasn't sure how to go about it, and he also knew that I, as his wife, had as much say in things as he did...and he couldn't reconcile those things...
I enjoyed raising Chelsea in the church environment. She had lots of friends...but again, I felt like some of the ladies were looking down their noses at me if I didn't dress her like their girls...But I kept on doing what I thought was right, and what I wanted to do...
I had to go back to work when she was about 3 years old. Up to that time, I hadn't had to work. But we had one of Jack's daughters living with us, and I just had to work to supplement the income.By that time we had moved out to a house in the country...something Jack had always wanted to do. I liked it fine, except it was inconvenient for all the trips we made to church and back, work and back..etc. And times were hard for us financially.. Seems like they always were.
I remember the first time I left Chelsea at the baby sitter's when I went to work...She cried and yelled MAMA so loud I thought my heart was going to break right then and there. God that was hard!! I will never, ever forget that moment...!! But I got through it, just like I did everything else.
We had good times in that house, and we had some really hard times. Derek, Jack's son, also lived with us. He and the girl, Stella, both were going to school in town, and that was hard. There was one time when I didn't know where our next meal was coming from... and then some food was brought to us by a church member...that was a lifesaver...Jack's job and mine just didn't pay our bills, and he kept getting us deeper and deeper in debt.
One time, late at night, a sheriff came by our house. I think it was 9 p.m. I was there alone, with Chelsea, who was a toddler. The sheriff was there to arrest me and take me to jail for an outstanding ticket I had for no insurance. I had forgotten to pay it, or else we didnt' have the money... I didn't know what to do!! I cried, and he asked me if I had any family I could leave Chelsea with...I said no, which was the truth. But I definitely didn't want to leave her anywhere!! He took pity on me and said if I paid the fine the next morning, he wouldn't take me in...God was watching over me that night...
It seemed like our lives were filled with situations like that. The car would die, we had no car, no phone, no way to get to town....no money, plus the anxiety that his kids brought to MY life...he was always gone. Stella was involved in a group home in Wichita...Derek was in trouble all the time. I clung to my Chelsea for solace...and to the fact that I was ok..
My mother and dad must have really wondered what had gotten into me...I sure did!! I look back and think...'Was that really me?' It was a terrible existence...and I wish I had it to do over again....
Jack had an accident at work. He had some big boxes of pork butts fall onto his neck/shoulder area. He lost the use of his left arm...and we went through countless surgeries and stress over that....he couldn't work for a time, and we were in worse shape than before. We tried to do what 'God' wanted us to do..but it seemed like things just got worse.
After a few years of going to church, trying to do what they wanted us to do....it finally become too much of a hardship, for me and for Jack. They stared putting pressure on him to conform...to wear a suit, and to quit smoking. Afer all, they said, you represent the church! Do you think it helps for others to see you smoking?? Then, I didn't like the way they were treating him...so after HE quit going to church, so did I. (That was after I had taught school at the church academy for a couple years, to help pay for Chelsea's tuition.)
We moved into the double-wide mobile home that was next to the old house we'd been in...it was so nice!! Lots of room and much better insulation. Jack started driving over the road for a cattle hauler, and was gone alot...even more than before. I had to listen to his kids...the creditors calling on the phone, the church folks... I home-schooled Chelsea her second grade...which I loved!! I could stay home...play with her, teach her, read to her...and I didn't have to face anyone....For her next year of school, I put her in public school in town.
My feelings for church, and all that it represented has gone through a lot of changes in the ensuing years...
That's when my drinking started....
It took some time for my body to adjust to being a new mom, but it worked out. It took even longer for my mind to adjust...but that happened ....eventually, too. I got into a routine with her and with myself. I managed to learn about nursing and how she was the one that regulates it - not me. So I let her. I had a little help and advice from friends, but mostly what I knew I learned from reading...and from the fact that I was patient. If I hadn't been, I think i would have given up..like I see a lot of young girls do these days. Nursing is not easy - at first. But the longer I stayed with it, the more I liked it!! No messy bottles...no heating up the milk..no MIXING the milk...and it was easier to feed on demand, which I had decided to do. At least at first. And, when we went somewhere, I didn't have to worry about how many bottles to bring along, whether they would spoil, or where I was going to heat them up! She would cry to eat, and I was ready! In fact....there were times I was ready before she was!! It's amazing how Mother Nature works all that out for us...and how it was intentioned to feed our babies the milk we already have!!
I remember a few times that she threw up that milk on her daddy..at the most inopportune times. It was funny...probably not for him, but it was for me. I had to learn what I could eat that wouldn't make her do that...whatever I ate, SHE ate too!!
We were still attending the Baptist church at that time. There seemed to be a lot of babies at that time, and I felt like I had a lot of friends in the young mothers. What I didn't know, and eventually found out, was that having children seemed to be a hobby of these women! Some of them had lots of babies, and were intending to have more!! There was something in the back of my mind that didn't like that idea...and a few of the other things that were going on then...like the man being the 'head of the household' and stuff like that. I could go along with someone having to BE the head of the house...but these men took it to a different level!! It was like the women couldn't say anything! And if they did, it was really not counted anyway!! HE made all the decisions!!
Jack also had a hard time with that...I think he struggled with it just like I did.. He had friends who he would go to for advice, just like I did....I wanted to be a part..I wanted to be what God wanted me to be. So did he...But he struggled with the fact that didn't own a suit, nor did he want to wear one...the fact that he smoked cigarettes, and the folks in the church didn't like that....He wanted to be the "head of the house'...but he wasn't sure how to go about it, and he also knew that I, as his wife, had as much say in things as he did...and he couldn't reconcile those things...
I enjoyed raising Chelsea in the church environment. She had lots of friends...but again, I felt like some of the ladies were looking down their noses at me if I didn't dress her like their girls...But I kept on doing what I thought was right, and what I wanted to do...
I had to go back to work when she was about 3 years old. Up to that time, I hadn't had to work. But we had one of Jack's daughters living with us, and I just had to work to supplement the income.By that time we had moved out to a house in the country...something Jack had always wanted to do. I liked it fine, except it was inconvenient for all the trips we made to church and back, work and back..etc. And times were hard for us financially.. Seems like they always were.
I remember the first time I left Chelsea at the baby sitter's when I went to work...She cried and yelled MAMA so loud I thought my heart was going to break right then and there. God that was hard!! I will never, ever forget that moment...!! But I got through it, just like I did everything else.
We had good times in that house, and we had some really hard times. Derek, Jack's son, also lived with us. He and the girl, Stella, both were going to school in town, and that was hard. There was one time when I didn't know where our next meal was coming from... and then some food was brought to us by a church member...that was a lifesaver...Jack's job and mine just didn't pay our bills, and he kept getting us deeper and deeper in debt.
One time, late at night, a sheriff came by our house. I think it was 9 p.m. I was there alone, with Chelsea, who was a toddler. The sheriff was there to arrest me and take me to jail for an outstanding ticket I had for no insurance. I had forgotten to pay it, or else we didnt' have the money... I didn't know what to do!! I cried, and he asked me if I had any family I could leave Chelsea with...I said no, which was the truth. But I definitely didn't want to leave her anywhere!! He took pity on me and said if I paid the fine the next morning, he wouldn't take me in...God was watching over me that night...
It seemed like our lives were filled with situations like that. The car would die, we had no car, no phone, no way to get to town....no money, plus the anxiety that his kids brought to MY life...he was always gone. Stella was involved in a group home in Wichita...Derek was in trouble all the time. I clung to my Chelsea for solace...and to the fact that I was ok..
My mother and dad must have really wondered what had gotten into me...I sure did!! I look back and think...'Was that really me?' It was a terrible existence...and I wish I had it to do over again....
Jack had an accident at work. He had some big boxes of pork butts fall onto his neck/shoulder area. He lost the use of his left arm...and we went through countless surgeries and stress over that....he couldn't work for a time, and we were in worse shape than before. We tried to do what 'God' wanted us to do..but it seemed like things just got worse.
After a few years of going to church, trying to do what they wanted us to do....it finally become too much of a hardship, for me and for Jack. They stared putting pressure on him to conform...to wear a suit, and to quit smoking. Afer all, they said, you represent the church! Do you think it helps for others to see you smoking?? Then, I didn't like the way they were treating him...so after HE quit going to church, so did I. (That was after I had taught school at the church academy for a couple years, to help pay for Chelsea's tuition.)
We moved into the double-wide mobile home that was next to the old house we'd been in...it was so nice!! Lots of room and much better insulation. Jack started driving over the road for a cattle hauler, and was gone alot...even more than before. I had to listen to his kids...the creditors calling on the phone, the church folks... I home-schooled Chelsea her second grade...which I loved!! I could stay home...play with her, teach her, read to her...and I didn't have to face anyone....For her next year of school, I put her in public school in town.
My feelings for church, and all that it represented has gone through a lot of changes in the ensuing years...
That's when my drinking started....
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
