It is February 26, 2015 and I sit in my parents home a week and a half away from having my first child.
I don't know exactly when I lost all control of my life but I have been going through my old texts and realized how blinded I was by my love for my fiance. We met almost two years ago and I wanted nothing to do with him. I should have followed my gut but there was something so charming about him and his persistence.
Things were great for a while; he and I dreamed about our future together and he opened up about his rocky past. He told me he used to have a serious drug problem but he got clean and I was his natural high. I grew up in a bubble and had never even seen pot before I met him.
I had entered my first semester of law school last fall walking on egg shells around his uneven temper which I now know was all because of the drugs. Before long I felt like I entered some Lifetime movie; the summer of bliss ended and I realized he had no home and no job.
Fast forward to Dec. 15, 2014 and I find him blue on our kitchen floor, overdosed on heroin. He had just spent the day in the hospital detoxing from the drug. During that time I had decided to surprise him and decorate our home for Christmas since I would be gone during that time and he could not afford to come with me.
I brought him home after the detox and thought things would get better. A few hours later is when I found him. To my dismay, the hospital released him again after the overdose. This was the scariest night of my life. It was then that I realized that he has a serious problem.
We had a few talks about drugs prior but he assured me that he was not doing anything too strong and that he did them on occasion when his back was hurting him. I now know that these were lies and he had been on heroin almost every day we had been together. The days he was not using heroin, he was either withdrawing or using meth.
The meth days I discovered correlated with the days he confessed to hearing voices and had hallucinations. One night he chased me around our house, five months pregnant, screaming that I was the devil and then ran into traffic with only boxers on. He had told me this was part of withdrawing and that it wouldn't happen again.
These are only the major, stand out events of the past year that have led to my moving home with my parents. Just after Christmas he calls me saying there were people robbing our house hiding in our attic. I knew he was still wrapped up in the drugs and told him he could no longer be in my life unless he was clean.
He said he would go to rehab but that's when the excuses came in. Then I received word that I had been academically dismissed from my school.
I was now 3000 miles from home and family in one of the most expensive states in the nation, pregnant, trying to help my drug addict fiance, and no more student loans or path to a future. I finally confessed everything I had been hiding from my parents and we decided it would be best for me to move home.
Not long after he found out I had moved that he tried to follow. He now lives with a family he just met in Texas. He blames me for his depression and why we aren't together. I have spent my time at home reading all of the blogs saying that women in similar situations made the right choice to get out of the hazardous environment and that the addict is the only one who can help himself.
After everything he has put me through I still love him and wish we could be together. He is angry with me for moving and does not add up anything he has put me through. He has called me selfish and I begin to believe him.
I guess I am looking for advice. I am concerned about putting him on the birth certificate or giving our son his last name but I am more worried that would only deter him from getting better. He has outstanding warrants, tickets, medical bills, and will not be getting a valid drivers license anytime soon.
He still refuses to go to rehab but is currently looking for a job. I am scared he will show up around the time of our son's birth and cause extreme turmoil. I don't want to have our son not have his daddy. He already has a five year old daughter that he lost custody of and never gets to see. I want him to have something to live for. I thought if I couldn't be the one to save him maybe our son could.
"Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened." - Matthew 7:7-8