The Cost....Part One

I used to hide my Visa card. In the freezer, in the soil of a potted plant, taped to the inside top surface of a dresser drawer. He was never good with money. Ever. It came in and flew out. Debt wasn't a concern for him, it didn't matter and making minimum payments was a fine approach to managing the debt. This was the polar opposite of how I was raised to think about money. I made it, I banked it, I spent some, I saved some, I paid my Visa in full each month. As life carries on it's expected that one will take on some debt. Car loan, mortgage, line of credit to do some reno's on the condo...these things were all reasonable, manageable debt one takes on to reach the next stages in life. Complete financial demise didn't happen overnight and it took a long time to get to the point where the phone ringing gave me anxiety as I knew it was a creditor and I also knew there was never enough money. I wouldn't answer the phone and I fell into denial but inside I was in pure panic mode, dealing with it all alone because my husband refused to get a job and I was on maternity leave. It wasn't long before I was calling the mortgage company asking where to send the keys. Money was a big part of the manifestation of Dave's schizophrenia. Money, lies and preparing for the end of the world. Oh, so much to this story. I'll just stick to the path of our financial catastrophe and try to sort that all out here. I should have taken more control of our finances, and I couldn't answer that question coming from my father-in-law and my parents when all of this finally came out. They didn't understand why I didn't take more control. No clear answer was there. I thought that I tried, although obviously not hard enough, and much of the problem was that Dave did what he wanted when it came to money, spent what he wanted and credited even more. So in our time together the debt slowly accumulated and I did nothing to stop it. We still paid the bills, it was all under control when we were both working. Dave worked hard, always had and so even though he lacked a university degree or a definite career path I had felt from the beginning that we would always be alright. He would always work and would be great at whatever it was. Now I know why my parents were so concnerned that Dave only had a high school education plus some miscellaneous other courses. He worked mostly in the trades, tried a few other things, tried some schooling but never settled in any one direction. It seems that the lack of focus that so clearly surfaced when he got sick was there from the beginning. Another seed? I did not recognize that as a concern in my early 20s, madly in love with a man who put me up on a pedestal. Not too long after we were married, the job hopping became because I never really knew when the next big idea would surface...accounting, criminal justice, trades, car salesman, roofer, shipper/receiver, glasier. Finally he seemed to settle into the glass business. I was relieved. A good job, steady income...and he was very good at it. Became physically stronger and worked hard. Long hours sometimes, and we lacked much of a social life but it was stable, good money and he seemed happy. That lasted for a couple of years before the restlessness crept in again, paired with grand ambition of his own construction company. Why didn't I put a stop to this? Because I loved him, believed in him, wanted to help him succeed. Things were under control financially at this point because with two incomes and no children, we were managing things just fine. Little did I know what was ahead. From the time he quit his glass job, there was a palpable shift in our world. In his energy, focus, our finances, and his ability to hear me. The more I think about it, although Dave loved me, he mostly did things his way and wouldn't always consider my opinion. He would pacify me temporarily and then do whatever he thought best. Unfortunately he was often wrong. And I say that not as a wife thinks of her husband but because everything fell apart. I see the business failure as the onset of major mental illness for Dave. After borrowing money from his family, spending it, and making very little in our business we were in a financial mess and emotionally Dave took a huge hit. I allowed him to convince me into consolidating our debt and remortgaging our house in my name alone. I would suffer later from that decision. I remember leaving the bank being absolutely livid. I hated him for putting us in this financial mess, and I was too embarrassed to reach out and talk about this with my parents or his father. I wanted to leave him. He had failed me, failed us and he felt this tremendously. For many years I think Dave always felt like a disappointment, unable to give me the life he thought I deserved. Already by that point I was tired of dealing with everything on my own and felt like the only responsible adult in the relationship. Part of his illness suggests that his decision making ability and rational thought processes are alike to a teenager. He wasn't making decisions like a responsible, grown man, that was for sure. With a diagnosis of Disorganized Schizophrenia there is a huge impact on how one thinks, processes information and an inability to follow through on plans. Lack of focus. That was my Dave. We had a plan for this business. One job at a time, do it well, complete it then move on to the next. Well he was all over the place. Numerous jobs on the go with inadequate staff and resources to do the quality work. He spent much more money than was coming in. Wait. Did any come in? Questionable. Dave had borrowed money from a family member and that absolutely FLEW out as Dave purchased every piece of equipment and supplies that we could ever need. His spending was manic and he did not respond to any cautious word from me. I didn't feel like I could stop him. When I questioned him he brushed me off. You could not give Dave money. He spent it so incredibly fast. And this was extremely exciting for him. After the business failed Dave spun full tilt into his own head. I had noticed the disorganization, inability to focus on the the present, constant distraction and it was like he was never in the room with me. During the following months/years Dave had intermittent jobs however I can't exactly recollect what or when. With the intermittent jobs and whatever credit he could get his hands on, the uncontrolled spending carried on, but this time because of a different motivation. Dave's illness was growing and took on the face of a monster of impending doom. With an obsession with the end of the world, Dave spent money on stockpiling suppliess. All kinds of supplies...and again one must ask, how could I not know he was sick? Why did I not stop it? It is all too much to believe sometimes. Once again, there is so much more to that part of the story, but it is enough for me to try and sort out the money mess that we lived in. And I have to face the reality yet again that I did nothing to stop this. He had me afraid. Maybe even a bit brain-washed. Maybe that's a cop-out, I just figured that he was more than likely not correct, but what if he was right? All I feel is stupid and foolish when I think about this. No wonder it has taken me two years to put it down in front of me. This feels like prying open a vault with an ice pick. It's too much.