My unraveling: in the beginning (Part I)

Even as I am sitting drafting this post, I am fighting it.  I do not want to write this.  I do not want to be this transparent.  I do not want for everyone to know these truths.  But, I am following what I feel God wants me to do.  I am obeying in hopes that someone who may be experiencing anything like this in their own life will seek out other avenues of solving the same issues.  

I graduated from nursing school in December 2009.  I took my boards and started working officially as an RN in March 2010.  Our unit was extremely short staffed at that point so picking up a little overtime was easy.  One extra shift may not seem like a lot but when you are away from home for 12 hours, one added night is not just a little sacrifice.  Couple that 12 hours with at least 8 hours of recovery/sleep time, and you have given up your whole week.

It was nice, in the beginning.  I was making real money for the first time in my life.  I was contributing to the family monetarily and Aaron finally did not have to bust his tail to provide.  That was important to me because I knew Aaron had felt the burden of having to work three side jobs and 60 hour weeks for almost the whole time we had been married, which at that point was 6 years.  We were in heaven. 

Except we were not really.  Aaron wanted me to switch to days.  I did not want to.  And so, our power struggle began.  Something so simple that led to so much more.   

It had always baffled me how a marriage could fall apart.  Looking back, it is not the major life events that lead a couple to divorce.  I truly feel that, for us anyway, it was the daily nicking away at each other.  We did not want to fight.  So instead of fighting we were passive aggressive and tit-for-tat-ed each other into the ground.

You will not go to days, I will just take Abi while you are asleep and go to the beach.

You go to the beach without me, I will just go out with my friends. 

You go out with your friends, I will just drink.

You start drinking, I will just leave.

You leave and I will just stay out all night.

You stay out all night and I will work more so I do not have to be home with you.

You work more and I will just spend more money on things we do not need.

You spend the money I work so hard for, I will rebel.

You rebel by getting your nose pierced even though I hate it and I will just drink. 

It is a vicious cycle.  Instead of communicating and compromising and being honest with each other, we had to "one-up" the other.  Instead of apologizing and realizing how much we were hurting each other, we dug our heels in and waited for the other to break. 

But neither of us did.  

Our day to day life was fake.  Go to work, come home, be pleasant, go to bed, do it all again.  We stopped talking.  We were best friends and we fell away from each other.  We were miserable, but of our own doing.  All it would have taken would have been for one us to wake up.  To come to the other, broken and vulnerable and real.  

But neither of us did.

Aaron started drinking, going out and taking trips with Abi without me.  I started going out and found that other men would freely give me their attention.  Not overtly.  Dancing with girlfriends and guys would buy us drinks. Posting a flattering picture on instagram or twitter and guys would be happy to give you compliments.  And that fed a need within me that I did not realize was there.  I was so insecure because of not feeling loved by my husband that other males met a need he could not fulfill.  

We were so lost.  Lost to each other and lost to God.  

And this went on for about a year and a half.  For 18 long, long months.  Aaron threw himself into Abi and someone else.  Abi became his friend, his companion.  And I was on my own.  Living together, yet living apart.  I liked it that way.  I did not need anyone else.  I was searching for something externally I thought I needed that I would never find.

In September 2011, we had had enough.  We decided it was time for us to continue our lives together.  We decided it was time to have another baby, that having another baby would help bring us back together.  In October I had my IUD removed and we started trying.  It did not take long before we found out I was pregnant.

We were trying.  But, we were not trying correctly.  We did not go to counseling, we did not discover the root of our issues, we did not admit our failures to each other and ask for forgiveness.  We did not openly confess our sins.  Instead, we hid them.  We buried them in hopes that they would never be dug up again.

And then I miscarried. 

.....to be continued