Hey, Do You Think You Could Give Me a Ride?
Guest Blogger: Jessie Muhleman
Facebook memories are hard. I’ve looked at this post for months, frequently processing its significance—for me then as well as for now.
Three years ago, I left my 14-year-old son at our home with my husband for a long weekend so I could surprise my daughter with a belated birthday trip to see her cousins in Georgia.
Our flight departed on Thursday. My son played an out-of-town NPL club soccer game on Saturday. His dad never came to pick him up once his team arrived back in Dayton. He asked for a ride home with a teammate and bravely—and silently—stayed home alone until my daughter and I returned from our trip Sunday night. I didn’t know anything was wrong, until I walked through my front door.
In dysfunctional families we often learn not to talk, feel, nor trust. We adapt to survive, learning to clean up messes and protect our public image at all costs. We can pretend quite masterfully to be ‘just fine,’ so we can endure the painful moments privately. We fool many along the way.
Dear readers, remember this: social media can be a platform for happy coverups. Now divorced, so many people tell me they had no idea the extent of what we were going through. And I’m not shocked in the least by that. I am a perfectionist and damn it, I perfected the public clean up after many years of experience! I would not have had it any other way.
It breaks my heart to remember my “why” but it also motivates me to persevere and create a better life for us all.
Addiction is a painful family disease. Often deep shame is insidiously entangled with tremendous grief inside those affected by this disease. These feelings can be paralyzing. These feelings kept me and my children in an unhealthy situation for fifteen precious years.
I am grateful for the helpers that carried us through many hard times. I do not know who brought my son home safely that autumn weekend of 2019. I was too ashamed to find out. Whoever you are, thank you. Looking back now, I am so proud of my kids for getting through many heartbreaking situations with unbelievable courage and ingenuity and grace.
I am hopeful that our experiences can help others feel hopeful for a better life for themselves. Survivors know that leaving a toxic situation can be a long, and often dangerous process. It took me six more months after this terrible weekend to escape.
By April 2020, the dangerous situations at home were escalating. In spite of begging for help for the person we loved, my final choice clearly became one of life or death. And surprisingly, in the end, the life I had to figure out how to save was my own.
By the grace of God, and some amazing people steering me towards safety, I got a protection order, filed for divorce, and never looked back. I think those critical decisions saved several lives beyond my own, and for that I am incredibly grateful.
So today, my 43rd birthday, I write. I write for those suffering in silence, for those cleaning up the messes, as well as for my own children. Our family experiences changed us forever, and we are doing our best to make light out of the darkness. That courageous boy of mine became a captain of the winningest high school soccer team in Ohio. My daughter played on the top varsity tennis team her sophomore year, and celebrated making it to sectional finals in singles. But much more importantly, my children are safe, they know their worth, and they have learned to create and maintain healthy boundaries. They live the lives they desire surrounded by people who understand and respect their needs.
We can do hard things and there can be tremendous peace on the other side. If I can possibly travel alongside you to a healthier place you may be dreaming of, dear reader, I sure would love to try.
C’mon, I’ll give you a ride.
