The Transition

I was recently asked about our transition after Mike retired and we made our last move cross country into civilian life in our home town. It was a whirlwind looking back but much like other changes in the past very cyclical. There was usually a pattern. The final transition was no different.

Mikes depression/ptsd always seemed to let up a bit when changing shops, commands, new duty stations. I always noticed a glimmer of hope. He seemed lighter. I think he really was convinced the struggles he had were the result of his current environment and not within himself. If you say something so many times you can really believe it to be true. He was so convinced that retiring and moving on would fix everything.

The weeks leading up to us packing up and leaving Pendleton were exciting and fun. He smiled more. He seemed more relaxed. We set out for Missouri in February of 2013. We decided to take our time driving a day enjoy the sites, state parks and attractions from California to Missouri. This was so out of character for him. He was not one to stop to let me use the bathroom  let alone offer to head to the Grand Canyon. It was a welcomed change. It  made  me hopeful.

We pulled into my sisters driveway in Missouri on Valentines Day. Shortly after arriving it began to snow. It didn't stop for two weeks. It was the most snow in 50 years. A record. Our kids hadn't played in snow before, as they spent their lives in San Diego. Boy did we ever. We took the sledding in the church yard across the street. One of the last photos I have of Mike is him sliding down that hill with our dog Lu in his lap. His smile was huge and he really truly had fun that day. We all did.

We decided to stay with my sister while we looked for a new homestead. It was like a party everyday. We were all finally together. Me a day my sister, my kids and their cousin. It was a really happy time. It didn't take long for the high to wear off though. He started drinking much more than before. I asked him about it and he told me to lighten up, he's celebrating. He's retired now. He's earned it. I admit I felt like a jerk at the time. He did work hard and deserved the down time.

Soon, my sister noticed the dynamics in our family. She noticed that I was no longer as outspoken and independent as I once was. She also noticed the way Mike dominated me and the kids. She even mentioned it. I told her she wouldn't understand. There were a few times Mike had overreacted and yelled at the kids. She gave me a look like "what the hell ...are you going to stop him?" I just shook my head as if to say "drop it". She was the first person in 8 years to really notice the change in his behavior.

We found a house, it was perfect for us. It was on a cul-de-sac  in a small family oriented neighborhood. There was a fire pit in the back and tons of yard for the kids to play and all of the neighbors had kids. The best part was it had a garage. Mike had dreamed of his own garage to work on his vintage mustang for years. He turned it into his Man Cave. It was his spot.

I had a hard time finding employment as I had been a stay at home mom since Kira was born...six years. I had the opportunity to work for some amazing corporations prior to staying home but a six year gap is not optimal. I finally did find a job. I really enjoyed it.

Mike had the hardest time getting his VA school benefits. As a matter of fact the VA hadn't even made the first payment to his school at the time of his death although he'd already been attending for a month.

Everything should have been great. We had a home, I had a job, he was in school and the kids were adjusting. By all accounts we should have been elated but Mikes drinking had become more frequent. Now daily. His behavior when he was drunk was more belligerent. He was verbally abusive. He'd sit and drink with the neighbor all night. Normally stumbling in right about the time I was getting up for work. We argued more because of it. I told him I let it go when he first retired but he can't still be celebrating 6 months later. He was acting so out of character. He actually told my sister one night he wanted to divorce me because I didn't like to "party".

The truth was I didn't want to subject myself to the humiliation of his verbal assaults when drinking and I was the one working to support the family now. I had to get up at 5am.  I've heard of many reasons to want a divorce but not wanting to party? I didn't have time to even think about that. I was back to work and also trying to get a million household and child chores done too.

His verbal abuse shifted to physical abuse a few months before he died. My sister walked in on him in an altercation with my son while I was at work one day. Even though he was a foot taller and towered over her she got right up in his face and told him he better never touch her nephew again or there will be hell to pay. When I got home that day she told me what happened. All I could do was cry. He had gotten so out of control. I was exhausted. I told her if she saw it again call the police. I give her my full permission. It's one thing to yell at or belittle us but it stops at hurting my kids. I told him the same.

It didn't stop. I actually caught him man handling my middle son one evening and I made him leave for the night. He had been drinking so he took off walking. My sister caught up with him in her car and offered a ride somewhere but he ran away...literally ran off instead. The next morning he called me begging for forgiveness. I went and picked him up and laid an ultimatum down. I'd tried to get him into treatment for years and he refused. I told him this time he has 30 days to get into a program or he had to move out. I did not trust him alone with our kids. I have to protect my kids more than I want to "save" him. He promised he would get help. He finally admitted out loud he had a problem.

Unfortunately it was two weeks later that he took his life. He never really had a chance to transition, and neither did i. The next transition was to being a widow. After all he'd put us through for so many years he took his life right in front of us...in our home.

I think that's why I'm so upset with the VA not rating his death service connected. He put us through hell. He had demons. But he's dead now and can't tell them. Not that he would. Our family did a good job hiding his explosive outbursts, violent behavior and verbal assualts.

Looking back I know I enabled him. I was trying to protect him. I regret not speaking up. I regret subjecting my kids to such things.

Shortly after he died my therapist (who was also abused by a husband who took his life) said to me sometimes surviving wives can feel a bit relieved after the death of their spouse in this situation. I admit I was. You have no idea how hard it is trying to predict the behavior of someone in his state. Trying to constantly prepare for a reaction to just about everything. Walking on eggshells. Lying for the kids to keep them from getting berated or punished in an extreme and inappropriate way. The tension in my home was so thick. Trying to appease him and protect the kids at the same time. It really was a nightmare and he just couldn't see he had a problem. It was me passing him off or the kids misbehaving. Never EVER HIS FAULT.

Do I feel guilty for being relieved, of course. Would I like to have him alive and healthy yes but no one deserves to live the way we did. He was sick. I loved him until the end. Unconditional.

There was no real transition, it was more like a crash landing and explosion. Afterwards I walked around dazed trying to pick up pieces....