In a journal entry from the
spring of 2012, I tried reasoning with myself as to why I should be grateful
for the situation I was in. I failed
miserably at convincing myself. My folks
had screamed the exact same statements at me over the weeks before that – he had
me living in a nice house, had a live-in nanny provided for my children. I was set up to be able to work hard for him,
and everything at home was handled so I didn't need to worry. My wifee, my folks’ bottom, had given me a
pep talk over text earlier that week as well.
She could tell I was slipping.
She had reminded me that it was my responsibility to go hard for my
children, to provide for them because I was all they had, they were depending
on me.
I wanted to desperately to
believe what they told me. And so I took
their words and wrote them down myself as one last attempt to prove to myself
that I should be happy. I told myself
that H had everything planned out and taken care of – I didn't have to worry, I could go to work and focus on making as much money as possible. My entire life was set up to accommodate me
working.
The power of the mind never
ceases to amaze me. It is amazing and
terrifying at the same time – the things you can convince yourself are true and
necessary. If you work at it long and
hard enough, you can carve a new pathway in your brain – you can change your
entire belief system, your whole structure of priorities, and your complete
outlook on life. And what is most
amazing to me is you can make all these mental changes to fit your reality, and
in the end you can justify your actions as being for the good of your
situation. You actually start to believe
that the reality you've created is the best option out there.
I never went into that
household with the expectation of sacrificing my family to serve a new
master. I never went into that situation
just readily accepting the fact that I would stop being a part of my children’s
lives. I went in thinking that by
choosing up with H, I would be able to make more money to provide a better life
for my children. I moved across the country
thinking that by distancing myself from my turnout, I would be giving my
children a safe home once again.
Little by little, my time
with my children was consumed with H’s demanding work schedule for me. Most nights were 10-12 hours long, sometimes
up to 16. I would spend two hours in the
afternoon with my children when they got home from school, and we would eat
dinner together before I went to sleep.
I would wake up after they were in bed and head out for the night. I wouldn't be allowed to come home usually
until long after they had gone to school the following morning. I would sleep a few hours and then spend my
day running errands, going to the gym, etc.
I would be in Vegas like this for 1-2 weeks at a time. I would then inevitably end up getting
arrested and spending 12-18 hours in a holding cell with 25-30 other girls at
CCDC. H would post my bail first thing
in the morning but I wouldn't be released until mid-afternoon. I would come home, have to shower and eat,
and head right back out onto the strip.
Then I would typically leave town the following day, meaning I would
work the casinos until mid-morning and then head home to pack and catch an
afternoon flight. Being up for 24 hours at a time was standard, and several times where I would be up for three to four days at a time, fueled by energy drinks and fear.
Being OT meant being
completely gone from my children for seven days at a time, which felt like an
eternity to me. Most months, I was gone
every other week. The night I would
return to Vegas, H would pick us up at the airport, collect our traps and take
us out to dinner. It was always the
longest dinner in eternity because all I wanted to do was go home and kiss my
babies. And that was literally all I
would have time to do because then I was sent right back out to the casino that
night.
The year I was with H, I had
less than a week off, mostly holidays, and my daughter’s birthday. The time I had off with my children, I was
usually so exhausted that we did little more than hang around the house. And while my physical exhaustion was
depleting, it was being emotionally drained that was most damaging.
Forcing myself to believe
that I should be grateful for this life I was being given permission to have
only lasted so long. I came to a
breaking point where I realized that the reason I was so miserable was because
I was not there to enjoy the very reason I had started all this in the first
place. I wasn't going to pay a nanny to
raise my children for me so I could work – it was so completely backwards to
me! I wasn't going to pay to live in a
house I couldn't enjoy because I was always at work! And I most certainly wasn't going to pay a person who did everything in their power to drain me and isolate me from my babies
who were my motivation to get up every day.
It was at that point that I
realized that I had completely lost focus of what was truly important to me,
and why exactly I was working in the first place. While it appeared, from one perspective, that
my folks was providing a life set up to accommodate my needs – in reality my
life was set up to accommodate HIS needs at the expense of my own.
There are still days – even two
years after I left – that I am still so angry at his selfishness and his
complete disregard for my children’s needs (never mind my own). But I am mostly mad at myself that it took me
so long to wake up and realize how far I had shifted my thoughts, that I
actually believed I was doing what was best for my children. I can only be so upset by the situation, as I
have to remind myself that I learned a painful lesson about what is most
important to me in my life, and what things I will never be willing to
sacrifice again. It is because of that
experience that I have learned so much about the importance of being present
for your children, and taking a close look at my actions and how they
ultimately affect my family.