I Don’t Talk About It Much

Suzanne and I spent the late 80’s and the whole 90’s many states away from each other, taking a time-out. Suffice it to say, the split was all my fault. But the longer we were apart, the clearer it became to both of us that we were meant to be together.

That time apart also brought kids into our separate lives. Suzanne had Rowan late in our time-out, but I had walked immediately into a life with a two-year-old named Devon (and his bio mom). For the next dozen years, I was Devon’s MomHelen. For most of those years I was his primary parent, because my graduate school and teaching schedules were flexible. I loved that boy, and the three of us had a mostly successful run as a family unit.

But I was falling apart. I had been running from the fact that I was bipolar, so I wasn’t getting help in that regard. My job teaching middle school in Baltimore had left me literally bruised almost daily, and bloody all too often—resulting in me developing an unpleasant case of PTSD which kept me from sleeping for years. I was beginning to over-like my beer too.

I was an outward success, but I was a mess at taking care of me. My collapse was coming. When Devon was 15, I had a bigly decision to make, and it would be the most difficult decision of my entire life. What could I do to be the parent he needed me to be, before I completely imploded? The answer was easy to figure out. The answer was also nearly impossible for me to actually do. I had to go. I had to leave him in his mother’s capable hands. He didn’t need me crashing into smithereens in the house, or even anywhere in the same zip code.

Such a tough thing. The beginning of reclaiming my sanity required me to walk away from everything I had and everything I was. I had to let go of ego and pride, and simply do the right thing for Devon. The best parenting move I could make for Devon at that time was to leave him in a situation that improved the second my bipolarity and I walked out of it. I did the right, hard thing for him, and It broke my heart.

I left Maryland and came back to Utah in 2000, where the endless sky helped heal me. I found the right bipolar medications. I re-found Suzanne. I quit drinking. I learned how to manage my PTSD. And today, April 16, 2020, the No Tie o’ the Day Devon turns 35. (Merry birthday, my man!) He graduated from Texas A&M. He’s a high-end landscape architect. As an adult, he has lived and worked in Texas, Italy, and Iowa. He shares his life with someone he loves. I’m so sweetly proud of him from afar.