Popcorn almost destroyed my marriage.  Seriously, it did.  And, we’d only been married for a few short months.  We just celebrated our 32nd anniversary on June 5th, so you know what? Popcorn didn’t win!

He allowed me to work at my own pace, attend my doctor’s appointments and take care of myself above all else because by this time, I was damaged.  Damaged beyond immediate repair.  By this time, if I wasn’t crying at my computer, I would fall asleep at it, with my hands still on the keys.  I’d take naps during lunch breaks.  Sometimes I’d grab a piece of paper and just doodle.  Eventually, among the  depression, anxiety, and PTSD, I was diagnosed with a sleep disorder – Period Limb Movement Disorder (PLMD), but my depression ran deep.  And, so did the damage.

I woke up in my hotel room, nude, sore, bruised. Thick, crusty, sticky goop – semen, on my legs, in my pubic hair, on my thighs, on the sheets. I sat on my bed in shock. I knew what happened, yet I didn’t know. I couldn’t know. Not to me. I had no memory.  Who? How? My head was pounding and swirling. I could barely keep it upright.  My tongue was sticking to the roof of my mouth. I needed water.  I looked at myself in the mirror.  My eyes were swollen and bloodshot.  I clearly cannot hold my liquor.