Voting day, cocaine, and anti-depressants

I was eight months pregnant when I finally convinced Nemo to see a psychiatrist. The appointment was on election day.

I went with him to the appointment and waited in the waiting room. The doctor asked me to join them halfway through. He wanted my opinion on what was happening with Nemo.

I told him Nemo had been abandoning me for months. That I had just found out about Elvira. That I couldn't get him involved in my life. That I needed my husband now more than ever. He asked if I thought Nemo was depressed or bi-polar. I thought either one of them could be a strong possibility. He wanted to know whether Nemo wanted to try talk therapy or start medication. I practically jumped out of my seat exclaiming - I need my husband to be here for the birth of my child! Put him on some medication!

He gave Nemo an anti-depressant, and told him to return in a couple of weeks. (Side note: I counted his pills in the days and weeks to come and he wasn't taking them faithfully. Seems he couldn't be faithful to anything or anyone.)

Nemo and I went to our voting location. The line was long. I feel it is always important to exercise your right to vote, but this year the polls were saying it would be very close race. So even though it was painful for me to stand with the swelling of my feet and the extra thirty pounds I was carrying, and even though I figured Nemo was voting for the rival candidate, we stayed because I thought it was important.

Nemo was on the phone almost the entire time. I spent more time talking to one of our neighbors in line than I did to Nemo. We were in line an hour and a half. They kept announcing over the loud speakers to turn off all cell phones. Nemo would do things like that, not obey authority-type things. I was getting even more angry that he was on the phone.

As we got close to the booths, he put his phone away. He said in a quiet, serious voice - I have something to tell you. I was really annoyed, tired and physically aching by this point. He goes on to say that he had used drugs with his brother. I asked him what kind of drugs and he said cocaine. It was a surreal moment for me. I can see all around me all the people waiting in line, voting in just another election. I can see the children scampering around on the play equipment. The loud noise in the gymnasium stopped. It was dead silence. I felt a little dizzy. Could the people around me see that I was having a life changing moment? My husband had just admitted to using drugs. So many things had been thrown at me in the past year, that I just walked away from him and cast my ballot in a daze.

I felt like I was leading someone else's life. Like a bystander in my own life. Choices and decisions were being made around me, and like it or not, I was giving birth in less than a month. I felt that my husband was not my own, that he didn't care about my thoughts or feelings and I was powerless. In the end, my husband was someone else's, he didn't care about my thoughts or feelings, but I was powerful. I just needed to find it within myself.

We had Taco Bell for dinner that night. I caught Nemo smoking out on our porch. Something else he had been denying. Non smokers may smell like smoke from the bar, but their mouths don't smell like ashtrays. I wondered what else had he been up to that I didn't know? What other lies? What other illegal activities?

I couldn't imagine what my life was going to be like in less than four weeks when I delivered. I was so huge I couldn't see my feet. Yet here was this baby, arriving into a life that was unfathomable to me even a year before. For the next few days, all I could think was, how am I going to survive this?

I tried to get Nemo help. Oh how I tried. I wanted him to get better. I didn't want my baby around a drug user. I also wanted a husband who would be a father. Someone who was around for more than just dinner and a shower in the evening.

After that day, he never would admit to drug use again. He later even lied under oath about his admission to me. But we both know it was the truth, and that's enough for me.

He left me again that night. Said he was going to be spending the night with his cousin. We both knew that wasn't true. That's when he stopped coming home but briefly. I was on a runaway train and couldn't get off.