As I read Stephens blog about his twirly chair days it made me think of how I felt as I lay in bed those nights listening to what was going on downstairs so we thought it might be a good idea that I blog about it. Before I start I want you to know that I love Stephen with all my heart he is my soul mate, my best friend and we are very happy together. I am writing this about when things were not good and we were both in dark places.
As Stephen has mentioned in previous blogs about our life before kids https://afracturedfaithblog.wordpress.com/2017/05/25/the-bank-of-dad/ we had an amazing social life which involved going to work (which was were we met), pub after work and if it was pay day a half day was booked shops were hit then off to the pub. We had loads of friends and done practically everything together.
When Adam came along I realised I had another little human being to look after and the things that Stephen and I had loved to do before hadn’t the same appeal to me and I wasn’t interested in them anymore I had grown up and although it took Stephen a little longer to realise he caught up with me eventually.
Fast forward a few years we were married and Hannah had came along and any social life that we had left was long and truly gone along with some of our friends and so we looked forward to a Saturday night to get the kids to bed and then we would relax. I would get a bottle of wine and Stephen a few beers and we would watch a movie this all sounded good in theory but not how it played out. By the time the kids got bathed and went to bed I was shattered and the last thing I wanted to do was to sit and have a drink which resulted in Stephen sulking as he didn’t want to sit and drink on his own so we both ended up going to bed in bad mood.
As Stephen mentioned in yesterday’s blog https://afracturedfaithblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/09/the-twirly-chair-part-one/ about the day his dad died when he said that he wanted to be on his own to have a drink that night this really took me by surprise and shocked me I offered to sit with him and have one too but no he wanted me to go to bed and so that was the beginning.
At this time Rebecca had come along and our finances weren’t great we were on a very tight budget and each week I had to make sure that when I done the weekly shop there was enough to get Stephen his beers as well.
As I said before I used to lay in bed listening to the sounds going on downstairs and I could judge how drunk Stephen was by the length of time it took him to get from the chair to the kitchen and back to the chair again. When he got up from the chair the swivel base made a sound and the chair banged against the radiator, next the door was opened and I could hear him make his way up the hall to the kitchen, depending on how many beers were consumed I would hear him stagger into the wall or knock into something, next the fridge would open and the sound that haunts me KcSsshhhh the next beer can is opened and it’s back to the chair again. To this day that sound makes my stomach churn and it’s not even beer it’s only Diet Coke.
Next morning I would go downstairs and stephen would be sprawled out on the twirly chair sleeping, the kitchen counter would be full of empty beer cans and before I’d wake him I’d sneakily check his phone to see who he was chatting with on twitter or texting then Sunday began with fights and arguments oh how I don’t miss those days.
Back then Stephen and I weren’t Christians and I know now that it was and could only have been God that carried us through that part of our lives to get us to where we are now. I believe that God uses our bad times and experiences to help others and it’s now that Stephen and I feel strong enough in our faith to reach out and help people in any way we can be it through our personal testimony or prayer.
If you do require private prayer I can be contacted via email firstname.lastname@example.org