I believe this might be one of the most challenging blog posts I’ll ever write. Today, my daughter sent a photo of my ex-husband’s tombstone. I was stunned as I looked at his name on that stone. Unreal. Disbelief still. Sad for him.
Back in 2019, I was told that I couldn’t talk about this part of my life because it was “his story to tell.” As time has passed and with his death, this story, which was once his, has brought immense grief to his immediate family—the ones who spent every day and night with him during his adult life. The ones who truly knew him. I may not have known him the last years of his life, but I crawled into bed with him for 24 years and spent every day with him for 30. I am valid and always will be even though others think differently.
There are many unanswered questions. Recently, rumours about one of my kids being labeled “insane” after the loss of their father and the secrets that tore our family apart have compelled me to write this. I might have kept this to myself, but I think it’s time. Too many people have been hurt…including him.
Haunted by Buried Memories
After listening to The Reklaws’ song “Talk About It,” many buried memories resurfaced, still haunting me today. One morning, I was awakened at 2 AM by sounds of frustration and anxiety from my ex-husband. I used to ask him what was causing such distress in the middle of the night. He always attributed it to anxiety, for which he was seeking help. Although the counselor gave him tips to soothe his anxiety, much like the song describes, he was still up at 2 AM, digging a hole for himself….asking the kids if they wanted to “hang out.” I never knew about this bizarre behaviour, but they made me aware of it some time ago.
Please, I implore you to listen to this song.
The Breaking Point
His anxiety started about seven years ago. It appeared that it was getting better. We were making changes in our lives, but I didn’t know the truth.
Once we finally broke up in 2019, he felt he owed me an explanation for his indiscretions and addictions. I had to leave. I had no choice. I had to save myself even though I wanted to save him.
Reflecting on the Past
Before 2018, we were a typical family. We had pool parties, visited friends, went grocery shopping, and spent countless Saturday nights at the car wash. But after our move in 2018, everything changed drastically with the reveal of addictions and indiscretions. I was so angry and hurt. Why would the man of my dreams destroy everything we had built? I felt like I was going completely mad. I did for quite some time. So much so that death seemed the most appealing option. He was my World and my saviour since I was 16 years old. I knew nothing else but him. My purpose was to create a family with him as the “man of the house”. It’s what I was taught at such a young age.
A Painful Conversation
We met to exchange the ownership of my car. He asked if we could go somewhere to talk. There was no way I was letting him back into my apartment, knowing I would’ve succumbed as I always had with him. We parked behind Winners on Fairway Road in Kitchener, and he got into my car. I was furious that he had bought a new truck.
The Shocking Revelation
He told me it was very hard to tell me what caused all of his anxiety, his addictions, and his wrongdoings to me. He explained that in his childhood, two men and one woman violated him. I don’t know if you believe in repressed memories, but I sure do now. He explained that during his teens, 20s, and 30s, things were okay, and then the memories resurfaced. He told me that two of these people were dead. He also said that perhaps one of these people could have been involved with my brother’s issues. One was affiliated with the church. One, he got revenge on and beat up as a teenager. They were hints, but I still had no clue.
My brother used to resist going to Sunday school. In fact, one day my mother found him in his room holding a knife, saying he would take it with him. After I told her about my ex-husband’s revelation, she recalled this incident. I asked her, “It was a big congregation… didn’t anyone know about this?”
During my time in my hometown, I heard random rumours of creepy men, accusations and hear say. As well, we don’t know the truth of what caused my Brother’s addiction. It could simply be an assumption. However, I don’t see it that way anymore.
Sadly, I was 5 when my brother succumb to drug abuse. I was 26 when he died of a drug overdose. As a child those were very hard years for me.
All I know, is that addictions stem far deeper than the love the drug. It stems from something happening to them. A trauma.
But here I was and here I am….still angry at my brother, my ex-husband AND a woman and two men with no names. I was 5 when my journey of addiction touched my life, and I lived with it until I was 48.
If I could have five minutes with all of them, especially the woman and two men, well….it wouldn’t be pretty. I read letters and texts from the past often, still trying to understand it all.
“Who are these people? I would like to have a conversation with the one who’s alive. Not only did they hurt your life, they ripped apart a family as well. How many others did they do this to? How many other souls are suffering like our family?”
Me
The Weight of Secrets
I asked my ex why he didn’t tell anyone. He said, “If I would’ve told anyone who it was, they wouldn’t believe me.” I wish he had had the confidence to confide in me sooner. We were always a family open to help, therapy and improving our lives. But those secrets, kept for so long, tore us apart. Tore HIM apart most of all.
I recall a week before my brother passed away, he told our parents never to bury him in the graveyard of that church after someone in the community had died. My mother honoured his wishes and kept his remains with her. Following their wishes, I eventually scattered their ashes into the sea in our hometown.
Coping with the Aftermath
Here I am, trying to build a new life with someone else, burdened by my own addictions stemming from this trauma. When I feel anxious, I might gamble or drink. When I feel alone, I might people-please and overeat. I smoke constantly. I am a very different me than I was before the trauma. Actually, I’m nothing like the old me as I guard my heart, my boundaries, and try to figure out how I’ll manage living for the next 10-30 years. I thought I had it all figured out until I was awakened with the fact that the rug can be pulled at any time. That rug is a scary reality.
However, each and everyday I confront my personal demons and work towards a better tomorrow for myself. I can’t be a good partner, mother and grandmother if I don’t confront, speak my truth, and be open to the possibilities of surviving and thriving!
The Impact on Our Children
While my life goes on, he’s no longer here, and his secrets and unanswered questions still tears me apart in middle of the night. I often dream of being with him and we’re trying to find something. It’s a scary dream, not quite a nightmare, but not a mystery.
It has torn our whole family apart mentally. I worry about my kids, day and night, as they are certainly suffering.
I wish family would support them instead of throwing words like “insane” around our hometown. No, they are not insane. They’re dealing with the hard truths, while others stick their head in the sand. Others, who have no desire to support those blood members who are hurting so deeply inside. Do we really need another tragedy?
There is nothing more gratifying than hearing from someone and they ask how you are. They need it and deserve it. Peace. Closure. Future.
The Question That Lingers
Although we separated and never spoke very often, he is very much alive when I see my children, in their movements, and in some of the things they say. I find it very surreal that he is no longer here. There were so many untold facts about his life—things he told me, things he told my daughter, and very little he told my son. We find ourselves sitting around the table today, talking about what went wrong. The mystery he’s left behind haunts us differently, but the same.
One of my children asked, “Do you even believe the stories he told you? Especially that one?” My answer is, and always will be, “Yes, he said it from the heart.” Aside from that, It’s so hard to believe anything he told us, but I know his reveal was true.
Moving Forward
As I navigate through this new chapter of my life, I carry the weight of these memories. The pain, the grief, and the anger are all part of my journey. But, I also carry the hope that in sharing my story, I can find some measure of peace and perhaps help others who are struggling with similar experiences. Encourage those who are burdened with secrets to seek the help they so deserve.
Life is a complex tapestry of joy and sorrow, love and loss. And while the past may haunt us, it also shapes who we are and who we can become with a lot of therapy and hard work.
Even though he wasn’t who he pretended to be, he will always hold a place in my heart. The pain of his deception cut deep into my soul, leaving a wound I’ll never forget. But from now on, I will protect myself and never allow myself to be hurt like that again.
I have learned so much from this experience. Here are just a few.
- Life is not easy, if you’re suffering with trauma and are lucky enough to have someone who loves you, open your heart and soul to all the wounds you carry. Seek therapy. Otherwise, if you’re not careful, you may simply be another statistic.
- I love the movie A Star is Born. As much as we love those struggling with addiction, we know it’s the addiction speaking. Sometimes, no matter how hard it is, you have to walk away to save yourself. But that doesn’t mean your heart has left.
- He died on what would have been our 29th wedding anniversary. Out of 365 days, he passed away on our day. In some strange way, I believe that means something. A lesson? A Message from beyond? Who knows really. All I know is that life does go on with all the hidden truths, ghosts that we know and tortured souls they left behind.
Most importantly, Protect our children.
If a child tells you they don’t want to go to someone’s house or a public gathering where children are the focus, believe them. Take the time to understand why. It might save a life.
