Time Flies ... Period

The early part of 2010 is hazy. We had been back in Atlanta for a year. By this point I had three jobs. John had trouble finding work, but finally got the inside track on a middle-management job at a local hospital. His good friend's cousin was hiring for the position. It was not the kind of job that John wanted, but the frequency and severity of our arguments over money was becoming untenable. He took it.

I was studying for my PhD exams. I was supposed to read, digest, and regurgitate a hundred + books, articles, and films. I would be given three days to write three ten-page papers. A week or so later I would stand before my committee for two hours, and answer questions about any and all of the texts, my essays, and my future as a scholar.

The day before my written exam, John told me he had effectively quit his job because it was too stressful. The next morning, I literally wrote him a 'Dear John' letter, and moved into a friend's house for the weekend to complete my exams. By the grace of God, I was able to concentrate enough to write one complete essay, 3/4 of the second, and the introduction for the third on the first day. John called somewhere in the middle of the madness to thank me. He said he didn't know what to do about the job situation, and my letter had given him clarity. He apologized, and essentially asked for his job back.

It was also around this time that Caleb got the first of two Autism diagnoses. I completely checked out. I finally got the gumption to see a therapist (please see my previous statement on counseling). It turns out I had a major depressive and anxiety disorder. To say that I was exhausted would be an understatement. I knowingly pulled back on everything. If my husband refused to bathe my child, so would I. If he refused to get up with him in the morning, so would I. (Disclaimer: My child never went without baths or attention. I hedged my bets.) So, John had to step up. It was John who made the contacts to get my son into Babies Can't Wait. He contacted the Frazer Center for Autism, and got the ball rolling for Caleb's admission there. John contacted the Marcus Center for Autism when Caleb stopped eating. And I didn't feel the slightest compunction about letting him do it. I felt that he had taken what I did for granted far too long, and I wanted him to see how difficult it truly was...Still, he could never truly know what I had gone through. His job let him go; all he had to concentrate on was Caleb...