March 1989. After I took the boy home, I was left in a state of deep emotional emptiness.
I lived in an apartment all alone several miles from the airbase. Everything about Spain was foreign.
I would travel back-and-forth to the base on a daily basis along curvy roads that I did not feel safe driving.
When people had car accidents in Spain, there were no survivors. The accidents were always unbelievably severe due to the fact they drove at speeds in excess of 100 mph. I was convinced for the entire 2 1/2 years that I lived in Spain that I would never make it out alive due to the bad driving that I saw on a daily basis.
I lived in a constant state of anxiety and depression, so much so that I started to drink alcohol every day, making my way to the tiny little bar that was in the community center on the base.
For six months alcohol was my form of medication. It was the only thing that soothed my nerves. Cheers was a popular television show at the time and like the bar in the TV show, the bar in the community center became a haven where everybody knew my name, where I didn’t feel completely alone.
I hated going home at night to the little apartment because it was empty. It was cold. Without having the boy with me, I never felt so alone in my life.
I spent six months getting drunk every day. I made some good drinking buddy friends. My behavior became more reckless with each passing day. I Heard a couple of my friends from the post office talking about a wild adventure at a local brothel. I convinced them that we should all go to the brothel. I remember them being a little upset when the prostitutes found me more interesting than my male friends.
It’s truly only by the grace of God that I didn’t end up dead or with a disease, my behavior was so reckless. Like the prodigal son, I was living a wild, reckless life.
To be continued…
His… Michelle Philippians 1:20