He had been having health issues in the form of GI upset. So trivial, it seemed. Yet a few simple labs revealed something very wrong...and within a couple of weeks he was diagnosed with a serious liver condition called Primary Sclerosing Cholangitis, or PSC. Essentially, this is an autoimmune liver disorder that causes the bile ducts to scar and eventually cause liver failure. Transplant is the only cure, and even this is often temporary as the disease recurs.
Liver disease often evokes a reaction in people: This person as an alcoholic. An addict. Someone who earned their disease. But PSC occurs in infants. In people who have never had a drink in their lives. It is an unfortunate, autoimmune disorder that can occur without warning. It impacted our lives like we had never expected. Unfortunately, unbeknownst to anyone, my then-husband had a weakness for alcohol, and the impact of a life-threatening diagnosis would exacerbate this weakness.
After he was diagnosed, my husband and I bonded like I would have never imagined. Trauma bonding, I like to call it. We were as husband and wife should be: a team. We asked each other's opinions on everything, we talked about every emotion, and spent every spare second together. It was a strong marriage. Perhaps it was the only time I can call it that.
Another difficult thing that was happening at the time: my husband was starting a business. It was, ironically, a brewery. The guy with liver disease was officially told he was not allowed to never drink again...just as he had finally reached his life long goal of opening a brewery. I was so impressed by his resolve. His attitude. We could do this.
I got home from work one day (about 6 months after the diagnosis) at 5pm and he was drunk in the living room. It was a shock in the way I had never been shocked. This man had made a choice that would knowingly shorten his life. Shorten OUR life together. I felt sick. Yet at the same time, I felt empathy and the deepest sadness. We went to bed that night in confusion, both vowing that we would find a way past this.
We did not find a way past it. He continued the drinking, sometimes several times a week, sometimes only once every other month or so. In between episodes, it was increasingly clear that he was depressed and unable to deal with the stress of his diagnosis and starting a business. Things became worse.
He started antidepressants, and we began marriage counseling. Sometimes things were good, but often they were bad. The drinking episodes resulted in severe behavior on his part, followed by days of shame. Long story short, we decided to end things in the fall of 2014.
This was not easy. We opted to end things but had no end game...we lived together for a long time (6 months) after the separation. We eventually finalized the divorce and he moved out.
Here is where the second "D" comes in: Diet. Around this time, I decided to change my eating and exercise habits. I will expand on all of this in a different blog post, as it deserves this.
Often you hear of women becoming "fit" or "hot" during divorce. I can say I am this woman. I began to think of the next person to see me naked (months down the road). I wanted strange men to find me attractive. What?! Oh, the human psyche. More later...
