Trauma
I was in my early teens when that happened. It was always awkward around family gatherings when we would see each other. He tried to meet me more often, but I avoided him at all costs. I was still going through puberty and didn’t know what I was feeling. I remember feeling numb. And sat motionless, no tears, just blankly staring at the bathroom wall with a blade in my hand. Gently scarring my arm with lines, lines of red, streaks of blood oozing out of my self inflicted wounds.
I’d begun cutting as a way of coping. I don’t know why I did it. It was as if my actions weren’t in my control. But it felt good. It was an outlet. My secret with myself, just like the secret I kept until now. And I’m only opening up about this now because it feels like the time is right and I want to celebrate this new chapter in my life.
Karma
When I was fourteen, having just returned from school. I heard my mom screaming in agony from the kitchen, sobbing in tears as she stooped to the floor, her back dragging off the wall with the landline cord stretching down with her. She kept mumbling “No this can’t be”….”I can’t believe it”. Dad and Uncle Jack were returning from their seasonal hunting trip. They hit a moose, the car lost control, Uncle Jack was driving. Dad wasn’t wearing his seatbelt. We lost my dad.
To my dismay, Uncle Jack survived the accident. But was bedridden and had lost all sense and feeling from the waist down. “Hah, Karma is real” I thought. I was devastated for losing my father, but had a smirk on my face knowing my uncle who raped me wouldn’t be able to use his tool or legs, ever.
Destiny
Destiny wasn’t kind to me either. Since Uncle Jack had no other family, it fell upon my mother to care for him. By the time we were done with the funeral, Uncle Jack had all but moved into our home. Dad’s sizable life insurance was good enough to get me through college and handle our expenses for the time being, but Mom kept her job at the hospital. She was an expert in caring for the disabled at work, and would do the same for Uncle Jack at home. I never stepped foot in his room. I avoided him at all times. I could feel him peering through the walls to get a glimpse of me. Pathetic creep.
Betrayal
As perverted as he was, he eventually found a place in my empath mother’s heart. And despite my several quarrels with her, trying to guilt trip her into cheating on dad with his brother, she reminded me, it wasn’t cheating when my dad wasn’t alive. Besides, their relationship was purely non-physical. She felt empathy for Jack and his situation, while I felt disgust. My disgust lost to her empathy and newfound attraction to Jack and his sweet words of affirmation for a lonely single mother in the suburbs.
In some ways I felt betrayed by my own mother. I felt she betrayed me and my needs and my dad’s love to form a connection with this crippled man who had raped me. No, I hadn’t opened up to her about it. I didn’t know how to tell her the man she was now in love with was the man who raped her daughter.
Brian
I was sixteen, when I met Brian. Brian wasn’t very popular in school. He wasn’t a jock or played much sport, he didn’t have the best grades. He was just an awkward kid but a kind soul. He wasn’t an alpha male by a stretch. I was still cutting and he noticed the wounds on my arm. Little did he know my cutting went far beyond, deep into my thighs and places I didn’t allow anyone else to see, including my heart and soul.
Brian was kind enough to ask and talk. I appreciated his kindness. For what he lacked in physical and mental skills, he more than made up for in emotional and people skills. He got along with almost everyone and would be the first to help someone in need.
High School
It wasn’t much of a surprise to anyone when we started dating. I was a lost teen and had found solace in his company. We formed a strong bond on similar values. I was sure he’d ask me to prom and I waited until he informed me that Serena, his lonely lesbian neighbor, had asked him to be his prom date. I knew Serena and got along well with her. I had a bit of envy and anger in me with her wanting to go to prom with my boyfriend at the time. But I understood her situation. As a lesbian, she didn’t trust any guy friend but Brian to be her prom date.
Brian, as kind and respectful as he was, asked me for permission before he said yes to her. That’s what I loved about this man. He didn’t hide anything. I allowed it. Leaving me with Ignacio the scrawny nerdy kid as my prom date.
Grownups
Soon after high school, I got into one of the top universities in town. Brian didn’t have much of an ambition but secured a job installing telephone poles and cables in the state. He’d go on the road a lot for work and I missed him. He eventually did a course in electrical work and was doing well enough for someone with his accreditations. Meanwhile, my college life was boring and I turned into a hermit. I studied nursing and pharmaceuticals. We found time to meet each other but I would get restless when he left for work on the road. I guess my codependency was brewing around this time.
Marriage
When I was 19, he proposed to me on one of our dates at the local Denny’s. Not the most romantic spots or proposal, but that’s the best I could expect from the simpleton. I felt safe in his embrace and we kissed. Oh, did I forget to mention…..we hadn’t engaged in any sexual intercourse. I didn’t want him to find out that I wasn’t a virgin and that seal was unfortunately broken when my uncle raped me. I pretended that I was saving it until marriage. Maybe that’s what motivated Brian to propose this early in our lives.
We got married the next year. Yes Jack was at the wedding in a wheelchair pushed around by my mother.
On our first night, despite trying his best, Brian wasn’t a natural romantic. Brian did all he could to set the mood. Soft music, scented candles, silk bed sheets but I just couldn’t feel that side of me.
Confession
We didn’t have sex for a week after getting married. And every night, we tried. I finally had to confess to him about the one incident that had influenced my life until that point. Brian, my now husband, was the first person to know this deep dark secret about me. And being the man that he was, he understood and allowed me enough time before I finally felt comfortable with his touch.
Upon his insistence, I started therapy. And it helped. We finally had sex. The first penis to intrude my once sacred vagina since that dreaded night, was my husband, Brian’s. I have to admit, I didn’t enjoy it as much as I showed I did. I learned that from watching pornographic movies from some CD’s Brian had brought home.
Sex
Brian was just not very physically impressive. He was less endowed in length and girth of his manhood. And he would often finish before I could begin to feel excited. There was no foreplay. He expressed he enjoyed it a lot and I lied to him saying I did too. I had to, I loved this man and didn’t want to break his heart. I pretended to love sex with him. And honestly, I had more fun with my first sex toy. A vibrating dildo. Fair to say, our sex life was quite like most households in the country. Brian’s was great and mine was dull.
Pregnancy
It was a little over six months after our marriage that I found out I was pregnant. As weak as his penis was, I was glad the sperm was strong enough to hatch my eggs. It was a time of happiness. I was delighted to carry the child of the man I loved so dearly. And I could see him being a great father. Throughout pregnancy, I had the excuse to avoid sexual intercourse with Brian. Yes, I loved him, yes I was horny, but my vibrator did a much better job at satiating me.
Tommy’s Birth
I gave birth to a wonderful, healthy baby boy, Thomas. It was a natural birth and wasn’t an easy one. Thomas was large, 22 inches and weighed 9.5lbs upon birth. I also withheld sex postpartum citing baby blues and physical incapability. I couldn’t keep that up for long. Brian and I would have sex, but it wasn’t a regular occurrence, and when we did, it didn’t last over 5 minutes. He’d doze off and I’d stay up, sneaking into the bathroom with my vibrator.
Parenting
Tommy was growing up fast. And he latched on to my milk for hours. He was a healthy child and rather bigger than other infants which I attributed to my milk. Brian was a great father, he let me rest and sleep as he played with little Thomas and kept him busy. Brian would also help me change his diapers. I loved watching Brian evolve into a young father.
On Tommy’s first birthday, Mom arrived alone. She mentioned, Jack’s health had deteriorated and he couldn’t travel. It was only a matter of time. Soon enough, Jack died and I somehow felt a sense of relief and escape. He hadn’t been a part of my life for years but his death felt like a weight was lifted off my shoulders. Mom was alone now, and I felt pity for her. She had lost her only company.
Meanwhile, Tommy was growing up to be a smart toddler. Having learned his ABC’s and numbers quicker than other toddlers his age. He was an adorable child and everyone who saw him thought he was so cute. Brian and I had moved to the outskirts of town. I made more money than Brian, but we shared our expenses. It was the only place we could afford a big house for us.
Brian got a promotion soon and my career was taking off. We had found a nanny for Tommy and would eventually place him in day care and then school, as my job at the local hospital needed me to be there for longer hours. I was a registered nurse in the Emergency department and eventually in the ICU.
Typical Teenager
Life carried on until my mother passed, when Tommy was 13. Tommy was close to his grandma and was especially upset. This is around the time when trouble began. Like most teenagers, Tommy had indulged in some activities I wasn’t proud of. I started noticing crumpled paper towels in his bedroom’s trash can. When I would clean his room, it’d smell like piss. His keyboard was always crusty.
Brian was a good father and gave Tommy all the freedom. A little too much freedom for my liking. I’d get complaints from school about Tommy getting into fights. While on my stressful job at the hospital I’d constantly be worrying about what kind of trouble Tommy would get into next. He was naturally very aggressive in nature.
Brian and I started fighting more often. Our sex life was next to zero. Brian thought I was being too harsh on the kid. He somehow felt like I was trying to curb Tommy’s natural evolution into manhood. But I knew what he was thinking. Tommy was very unlike his father. He was more like my father, his grandad. Tommy was strong, tall, assertive, dominant, aggressive and almost always had his way. Brian was never that man. Brian felt like his son was making up for his missing attributes and felt proud to have a son who was a man he could never be.
Life Changes
I was now 38. Brian and I hadn’t had sex in months. We were living in a dull domestic partnership. I still loved him. There was just no romance or chemistry between us. My sex drive was now peaking. It started around my mid-thirties when I’d randomly feel horny during work. I had no idea where this was coming from. I blamed it on hormones. But maybe the lack of physical affection and sexual activity over the years had taken its toll. I’d get home change into something loose and comfortable, read one of my smutty novels and end up in the bathroom with my toys.
Brian seemed to have gone in the opposite direction. He had taken to drinking and would down scotch every night watching TV fiddling on his phone, passing out on the couch. I had to be up for work early in the morning and would find him snoring on the couch with his phone resting on his beer belly.
Tommy, now 17, was on the high school football team. Unlike his father, he had good grades, maybe he got that from me. He was great at sports and athletics, given his physical stature. He had grown taller than both me and his father standing at 5’10”.
I knew he was not a virgin. He had a few girlfriends by now. By few I mean, a different girl every week. I’d sometimes hear the girls moaning or screaming in his bedroom. It was awkward to say the least. But it made me realize our son had grown up to be a man. It also reminded me of my own womanhood. My needs were long unfulfilled and neglected.
The Incident
It was a month before Tommy’s 18th birthday, just a few days before Christmas of 2022. His father was out on a four day camp overseeing the installation of powerlines in the middle of nowhere, some 12 hour drive away. This was a common occurrence as he’d often go out of town for days sometimes a week or more for work. I had just finished a long shift from the hospital and was beyond exhausted.
Pulling into our driveway, I noticed a girl walking away from our home’s front door, visibly disturbed and sobbing. I was confused and entered through the garage. It was supposed to snow that day. As I walked into our living room, turning on the lights in the kitchen, I poured myself a glass of red wine like many other long nights.
Taking my winter jacket off, I undid my hair which was tied in a bun to let it flow. Sipping from my glass of merlot I heard my soon to be 18 year old son, stomping down the stairs with his heavy legs and large frame.
Tommy: Hey Mom. Long night?
Jessica: Yeah, I’m so tired. What are you upto young man?
Tommy: Uhmm…Not much. Just some videogames you know…
Jessica: Mmhmm…are you getting into any more trouble?
Tommy: Ugh. Come on Ma. Why do you always talk to me like I’m a problem..
Jessica: You really want to know? huh (Rhetorically, rolling my eyes) Who was that girl?
Tommy: What girl?
Jessica: Tommy, you had a girl over. Who was it?
Tommy: You saw her huh?
Jessica: I saw her walk out in a rather sad state. What did you do Tommy?
Tommy: Nothing! Ma…
Jessica: Listen, it’s cold and windy and there’s a snowstorm coming. I’m just worried if she doesn’t make it home okay, you’ll get in trouble again. I don’t want to deal with any more parents or teachers complaining about your shenanigans. It’s not a good look.
Tommy: That’s all you’re worried about huh? How you’d look? Ever think about what I want?
Jessica: You know what I mean Tommy.
Tommy: No I don’t. And that was Sammi. She was here. And she….nevermind.
Jessica: And she what? Tell me Tommy. What did you do? Did you hit her? Why was she upset?
Tommy: Stop it. You’re asking me questions like I’m a criminal. I….I..can’t tell you what happened okay! Now just drop it.
Jessica: Tom…
He stormed off mid conversation and locked himself in his room. I was tired and just didn’t want to deal with another troubled teen episode. I knew he was hiding something from me. It was driving me nuts. Teenagers hide a lot from their parents. To be fair, I did too. And then I chuckled, thinking to myself, hah, it can’t be that bad. He’s good at keeping secrets, just like his mother.
I went to my bedroom, freshened up, put on a loose top and pajama shorts. Back to the kitchen, I pulled out the tupperware from the freezer. Thank God, I’d meal prepped, I was starving. As I poured myself a rather large glass of red wine, I heard my cell phone go off.
It was the superintendent from the job my husband was working at. The blizzard had caused an accident leveling some trees and the newly installed poles. Brian was atop one of these tall thirty foot poles. He had no business being up there since he was now overseeing the project. But something gave way and Brian took a fall from a height. He was being rushed to the hospital but the snow in the mountains had blocked the highway.
I was devastated and wished I had more information. But that’s all I was told. Immediately my body felt this cold rush all over and my mind went numb. I somehow managed to balance myself to reach the large recliner next to the couch and may have experienced a panic attack. After a few moments of shock. I came to terms with what had just happened.
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It took a couple of days for the snow to clear up and we could finally go and meet Brian in the hospital. He was in the I.C.U. and fortunately in the same unit as my shift. I took some personal time off from work and spent it in the I.C.U. with my husband. Brian’s fall had injured his spine and neck severely. The cervical injury had resulted in the loss of sensation and motor function in the brain, arms, hands, legs and pelvis. While in the hospital, we were informed he had also suffered a stroke.
My husband of 20 years was now a quadriplegic and there was little to no chance of recovery. I’d have to care for him at home and rehabilitation would cost a significant amount of time and money. I couldn’t help but think, how my life was going to turn into my mother’s. Pushing around your loved one in a wheelchair, caring for their daily needs.
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His coworkers and manager came to the house returning his belongings in a duffel bag. His cellphone, laptop, some tools and equipment. Which I just shoved in a drawer in our storage closet. They were kind enough to put together an online fundraiser within the company to help with his rehab. Brian was a nice guy, a soft, kind soul and everyone appreciated him for his service.
The accident was caused because one of his subordinates wasn’t willing to take the risk of climbing up the pole to connect the wires. And Brian decided he’d do it himself, as a way of showing his coworker, it can be done. “Typical Brian”, I said to myself as I looked at him, sitting lifeless on the wheelchair. My Husband was now just a vegetable. A body with no purpose. A mere mannequin with a beating heart and some functioning internal organs.
Despite learning of the tragic accident and the aftermath on his health, I found some solace in the fact that he was still alive. I did love the man after all. Thankfully he had a sizable accidental insurance policy and the Union would assist with disability payments. I also applied for long term disability for him. Money wasn’t necessarily an issue. My concern was the time and effort needed to care for him.
Our Christmas was spent with me fielding calls to extended family and friends informing them of my husband’s tragic accident. Everyone was kind and supportive with their words. The reality was, I had to be the one to step up and care for him. Brush his teeth, feed him, bathe him, clean his shit, change his catheter, move him around, take him out in his wheelchair to breathe some fresh air. This was a full time job and I didn’t want to take more time off my work.
Tommy was visibly saddened by his father’s unfortunate state. He was still just a kid but understood the gravity of the situation and helped me around the house with everything. It was between Brian’s accident and new years eve, that I noticed a change in my otherwise unruly son. He showed some responsibility and cleaned up his room. He would also look up recipes on the internet and attempt cooking. He made coffee for us both and also emptied the filters with the ground.
