My husband woke me up the next morning, which was odd since I was the early riser.  Our normal weekday routine consisted of me getting up and working on my computer by 6am.  I typically worked until 10 or 10:30, when I would take a break.  Sometimes I’d get coffee with my dad, sometimes just take a breather for myself.  It was Wayne that was usually sleeping in. He’d normally rise around 8, come into the kitchen for coffee and sit in front of the TV for an hour.  Then he’d shower and head off to work at 10.  So today felt awkward.

He said, “You look like you slept well.  You need to get up and take a shower, so we can see a doctor.”

“I did sleep well,” I said, but still didn’t want to get up.  I asked him to move the doctor to the next day.

He said in a stern, no-nonsense tone of voice, “No, you have to go today. You promised it would be ‘My Way’.”  I felt I had to do what he wanted and got up to shower.

Strangely, it was when I showered that I finally realized I had lost weight.  My sisters had commented on my weight loss earlier in the year, but I hadn’t really noticed. I’ve always been health conscious, ate well, and kept my weight steady. But they noticed that I looked thinner. One sister asked if something was wrong, while the other just thought I looked great.  I didn’t think much of it at the time, but I’d probably lost 20 pounds during the year.  I was around 106 on a 5’6″ frame when I entered the hospital and 102 when I got home.

That morning, while showering I thought I felt a lump in my lymph nodes, under my armpit and on my left breast.  I asked my husband to feel it. He thought it was just my rib, which made me feel better. I believed him.  I got dressed and got into the car.  I was nervous about getting in the car with him again and didn’t want to go. I wanted to stay in bed the whole day to recover from the weekend. I felt safe at home.

I asked a few times, “What doctor are we seeing?”  I wanted to see my General Practitioner.

He said he found a doctor for me.  Him choosing the doctor I go to and making decisions for me didn’t sit right. I think this was the moment that I started fighting back, or standing up for myself, since I felt like a prisoner with him again.  He kept saying we’ll get there, we’ll get there.  We’re doing it “My Way”.  I didn’t know at the time, but my husband had called a friend who knew a psychiatrist, and pulled some strings to get us an appointment the day after I got out of the hospital.

But, like a good wife, I went to the psychiatrist appointment. I wasn’t sure if a condition of my discharge required me to see a doctor within a certain number of days, or not. I didn’t want to risk being non-compliant with whatever discharge agreements I might be held to.  I’m not sure why it was so urgent for Wayne though.  Wayne just said it needed to be done. He asks, “Where’s your license and health card?”  I give it to him.

When we arrived at the doctor’s office, my husband was still assuming control and got the intake form from the receptionist. I grab it and he says no, he’ll fill it out. I’m so tired I didn’t bother to fight back. I told him I should fill them out. He said, “No. My way, my way”. He’s filling out the form, and I don’t know what he’s writing.

The doctor comes out, calls my name, I get up, and so does my husband. He says, “I want to come in for the appointment”.  The doctor looks at me and I shrug. We both go in.  For some reason – I’m starting to wake up now, and I’m not sure why we’re there. I sit down. The first thing the doctor says is, “Do you have your paperwork from the hospital?” My husband says we left that at home.  I say to the doctor, “Remind me who you are and your specialty.”  He’s an Indian man and he tells me he’s a psychiatrist.   My husband starts handing him the intake form. As soon as he handed it over, I ask if I can see it.  The doctor starts handing it to me and asks why. I’m trying to take the form but my husband intercepts it to keep it away from me.   I explain that I didn’t fill it out.  At this point, my husband starts getting agitated. I say this is my appointment, and I’d like privacy, just the doctor and I.  My husband gets up. I reiterate that I want to be alone for this meeting.  The doctor now stands up.  My husband says to the doctor, “Can I call the police?”  I tell him to sit down. He says he won’t sit down. Just asks again if he can call the police on me.  I tell him to just wait outside, I’ll be okay.  The doctor is clearly scared because my husband is so angry.  The doctor tells him, “She hasn’t done anything. Is she breaking the law?”  My husband says, “No.” The doctor tells him he cannot call the police, nor can he if she’s not breaking the law.  Furthermore, he’d like us both to leave.

Before I left, I asked for the intake form back because I didn’t fill it out and I want to be sure its accurate. The doctor hands it back to me. I’m thinking that my husband is not keeping me safe. Maybe I don’t want to know what he’s writing on the forms and have that in my head. I think it’s probably all fucking lies.  I’m starting to question him and his decisions. I feel like he is controlling my destiny. He didn’t want a wife, but a puppy dog that would do things his way.

I’m a person who believes in loyalty for life. It’s important to me to give unquestioned loyalty to the people that I love.  No matter what.  If a friend killed someone, I would bury the body with them. I go to great lengths to maintain my loyalty.  So I couldn’t envision that my husband would behave like this.

We leave the office and go out to the car. My husband is angry, very angry. He’s yelling and hitting the steering wheel, saying he can’t believe that happened.  (I have a flashback to years prior when I was driving and he was mad and started punching the dash of my car).  I offer to drive since he’s losing it.  He gets his phone out and starts dialing. I’m worried he might call the police after all. I don’t know for sure who it is, but I think it’s a sister.  He says he’s taking me to my mom and dad’s house.  I can hear the other person and it’s my sister Agatha. She says it’s a good time to come to the house since they aren’t here.  Apparently she drove the 5 hours from her house over the weekend. I didn’t know she was here and that she knew about the weekend.  He’s driving erratically and I’m thinking I should have drove.

As we reach the driveway, I see my parents are just arriving as well. The front door opens, and my oldest sister comes out.  I get out. My husband gets out and is clearly livid.  He’s yelling at everyone telling them I’m not allowed in my home and that my mom and dad need to take care of me.  My sister is confused. I’m very calm.  I try to calm him down.  I ask my sister why she’s here. It didn’t dawn on me that he would have called her. I ask my parents if they are ok.  They went to the store.  My husband reiterated that “You guys are taking her. She’s not allowed in the house”. I try to get everyone to move inside so the neighbors don’t hear.  I tell everyone we can talk inside and avoid a police call.  I go into protection mode, concerned the police will come and arrest him for being crazy in public. I don’t want that to happen to him.  We all go in the house.

My husband says again that he won’t deal with me.  He’s yelling at my sister and parents.  My sister tells him he can go home and I can stay at the parents’ home. I ask again why she is here. She’s putting a hand in my face, like to say stop. I’m now getting mad that everyone is trying to take control of me.  My husband leaves.

I sit down and am worried about my parents having to see that. I’m asking my dad if he is okay since he has health issues.  I tell him to relax and everyone to calm down.  Within 30 minutes, there’s a knock at the door.  I get up to answer and my sister tells me to sit down.  Agatha pushes me aside to get the door. I’m confused about why. It’s because my sister knew that it was my other sister, Scarlett.

Scarlett comes in and mentions that she couldn’t come earlier because she started a new job and part of her role was to process payroll, which has to be done on Tuesday. So she drove up early Wed am.  I’m thinking I really don’t have to listen to you.  I ask her, “Why are you here?”  In my mind, I didn’t realize anyone knew but my husband, Alex, and parents.  I clearly told my mom when I was in the hospital, not to call my sisters or anyone. I don’t need them. I’m fine. Mom had said ok.

The two sisters disappear to talk. I talk with mom and dad and tell them that I told them not to call, this was just a stupid thing that happened.  My mom tells me that my husband called them and that she’s sorry, she didn’t know.  I wasn’t sure why it was such a big deal about nothing. I was regaining my energy.  Even though I felt imprisoned, I didn’t feel it was a big deal. I didn’t think that my husband would call everyone because I expected him to keep my hospital stay private. I’m just learning that it’s now a big deal because he told people.   My husband comes back to the house.  He has all the paperwork from the hospital, dumps it in the kitchen and leaves, telling my parents to take care of me. This is surreal. What is going on?  Now a sense of distrust is building quickly in me. Everything is being done behind my back. They aren’t treating me like an adult. He should have told me about the sisters.  I wouldn’t have handled things this way if it was him.  (In fact, when he had a serious hospital stay, I asked him who he wanted to know about his medical issue.  I didn’t just tell people. I gave him respect to make his own decisions).  All this shit is happening. WTF? The nightmare is still happening. I thought when I got out of the hospital that I was all set, but now I realize there are things that need fixing.

I notice my mom and dad and Agatha are gone. I ask Scarlett where they went. Everyone is treating me differently.  Scarlett hesitates. She asks if I’m ok.  I ask again, “Why are you here?”  She says, “Because I love you.”  “Why are you here? I thought you started a new job” She says, “Yes, that’s why I couldn’t get here earlier.”  I tell her I don’t know what’s happening. I ask what she knows.  I know how my family operates. They circle the wagons around the “problem”, everyone getting involved, fighting for control, trying to manage the “issue” and keeping people out.  Scarlett asks me what I mean. I remind her how everyone talks about people behind their backs. I know that because I’m the funnel where people come to complain about each other. I tell her it better not be happening with me. Scarlett promises she’ll be honest with me and tell me everything. I still don’t trust her. I can’t trust anyone after this weekend. If my own husband can put me away for a weekend, who can I trust? I expected him to be THE PERSON in life to keep me safe, look out for my welfare and love me forever.  I will slowly recognize over the next year that I was naïve and mistaken.

I get up and tell her I want to be alone. She gets up and looks panicked. She wants to know where I’m going.  I tell her I’m going to talk to my husband. She’s now yelling at me, “No. No. No.”  I ask, “Are you supposed to babysit me? Can I not go anywhere?”  She wouldn’t reply.  I remind her that she promised to be honest. She tells me that they told her to watch over me and not let me leave.  I say, “They?” She tells me my sister, Agatha.  So I ask where our parents and Agatha are. They are in dad’s art studio.  I go walk to the studio door, with Scarlett following. She opens the door.  They are going through the hospital paperwork my husband brought over. My mom is talking to a lawyer friend about what to do. Up until now, my husband was managing everything.  I don’t know why my mom called a lawyer.  Perhaps she’s worried about my husband calling the police?  Maybe this was to protect me in some legal way. I’m not sure, but I am sure that I don’t like Agatha controlling my destiny and trying to fix the family stuff.  I am really not happy that she’s looking at my private information.

At this point, my family realize that I’m there and watching. I ask for the paperwork back and they tell me I’m not allowed to read it. Agatha says my husband gave it to them.  I remind them, by law, no one can look at my information from the hospital, including my husband, given it’s covered by HIPAA regulations. Agatha begrudgingly gives it back. I tell her she can go home. I go back in the house to let them chill out.  I call my husband and tell him I don’t know what happened, but I don’t want our daughter to see all this upset. I will stay with my parents tonight, and he can take care of our daughter.  He says ok. At this time, he was calm.

I stayed the night with the family. Just before I went to bed, my mom says that my husband told her to do this.  She has me open my mouth to put a pill in, and says I need to swallow the pill.  She’s still taking directions from my husband (or maybe the hospital release papers). I reply, “Seriously? Just put it in my hand.” “No”, she says,” your husband told me I need to do this.”  My sisters are on each side of the couch telling me to just do it.  I tell them I don’t need this medicine.  “Please”, they say.  I put it on my tongue, then under. Stick my tongue out. “Really?” Now we’re all laughing. I tell them I’ll go brush my teeth, then I’m going to bed. In the bathroom, I spit the pill into the toilet. I’m sleeping on one couch, Scarlett on the other. Agatha takes the guest bedroom.

Photo by Devon Daniel on Unsplash

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Nikita@dontreleaseme.com

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