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Grapevine : May 2011
although partying for his father was perfectly acceptable. So, I began to sneak and hide my drinking. Before my future husband’s ille- gal method of making a living caught up with us, we decided to move to Ar- kansas, where one of his high school buddies said land was cheap. Before we could make that happen, we were both arrested. We jumped bail and moved anyway, selling everything but the truck and his motorcycle. We made a stop in San Diego and left our son with my fiancée’s sister for safe keeping, which might have been the only smart thing we did the en- tire time we were together. O nce we were in Arkansas, our life changed. We strug- gled, learning how to live modestly and honestly, but this was when my drinking became a daily thing. After about nine months, the bail bonds- man showed up and arrested us. We were handcuffed and flown back to California to await trial. Luckily, my fiancée’s father was a retired dep- uty sheriff, so we were allowed to return to Arkansas once we had done our time. Returning to Arkansas, we were married and my drinking spun to- tally out of control. We fought like cats and dogs, so it was decided I should quit drinking. I actually ac- quired a bit of sobriety, but I was a dry drunk who stayed in a very un- healthy, abusive relationship with a man who drank constantly. On a Wednesday night in Au- gust of 2002, my husband was com- ing home drunk from a friend’s house and wrecked his four wheeler on a dirt road. When I woke up and noticed he wasn’t home at 2 a.m., I knew something happened and went looking for him. I found him, dead on the side of the road. I am ashamed to say that I was relieved. When I phoned my sister frantically from the accident scene, she would later tell me that she had assumed I had had enough of my husband and killed him myself. A short time later, I picked up drinking, now viciously, intent on numbing the whole expe- rience, the loss, the pain, the reality of my life. I decided to put the house up for rent and move to be closer to my family in Georgia. Once there, I met a man ten years younger, bought myself a new motorcycle and began drinking like every day was New Year’s Eve. We spent my husband’s life insurance money on full-time, full-tilt parties. After a year, I became pregnant with my first child. I lost the baby, which sent me spiraling out of con- trol and I literally almost drank my- self to death. Almost a year to the day, I found out I was once again pregnant. Again, I lost the child. I was by this point an angry, aagrapevine.org 35 GRAPE_32-38.indd 35 4/5/11 4:00 PM