1. Mommy’s New Husband
So, my mom remarried about two years ago. My dad died when I was twelve so she had been widowed for over ten years. This new relationship was very whirlwind with them meeting, dating, and getting married within three months. I didn’t know much about the guy, but my mom was happy, so I just tried to be supportive. She moved into his house in upstate Virginia and invited my fiance and I to spend a weekend in her new home getting to know her new husband.
My mom’s new home was pretty isolated. It sat on a few hundred acres of lovely rolling hills, and was very picturesque. I was nervous about getting to know this guy, but really trying to make the most of it. Over the course of our first day there though, I felt more and more uneasy. I didn’t think it was weird, just silly. My mom’s new husband was being very welcoming and friendly. We were being made to feel very at home, yet I still couldn’t shake this oppressive feeling. I finally chalked it up to me being more upset about my mom getting remarried than I was willing to admit to myself. We spent most of the day wandering around outside since I felt worse when indoors.
That night my fiance and I showered together. When I turned my back to him he stopped talking mid sentence and asked, “What did you do to your back?”. Well, nothing. Why? “You have a large bruise.” I hopped out to try and see it in the mirror. I got back in and we finished showering in silence. Then it was off to bed. The one window in our room looked out over a pitch black empty field, but I couldn’t sleep until I hung something over the window. I felt sure that otherwise someone would watch us through the window.
The next morning I had a complete meltdown. I woke up and just couldn’t stop crying. I told my finance we had to leave. He tried to calm me down by telling me all the things I had been telling myself. My feelings of anxiety were just a result of seeing my mom with someone. The longer I spent with the them the easier it would become. But I just had to leave. It was only Saturday morning and we were supposed to stay until Monday, but I felt completely hysterical. I knew I was on the verge of a panic attack and my only concrete thought was I had to stop crying long enough to make our excuses and get the hell out. We did.
As soon as we were on the road I felt like a weight had been lifted. I was even feeling embarrassed for my behavior, hoping I hadn’t insulted my mom’s husband by leaving early. Then my fiance broke the silence, “That bruise on your back….did you get a good look at it?” I had. It looked like some had touched the middle of back, with fingers spread wide, with their hand at a tilt. I want to make completely clear, no one had touched my back the previous day, especially hard enough to bruise me.
Cut to three weeks later. My mom comes to visit me. The entire time she’s hounding me to come stay with her again. After finally trying to change the subject for the fifth time, I level with her. Before I’ve even finished telling the story her face is white as a sheet. She tells me she has been feeling the same way in the house. She hates it. She wants them to move as soon as possible. And the real kicker…her new husband’s previous wife shot and killed herself right outside in the same field our room window overlooked.