Standing Alone in a Long Difficult Journey

By Michelle Roberts Nelson

Standing Alone in a Long Difficult Journey is about life's challenges, trials, and tragedies and the miracles God can bring to you through in what at times seems impossible. When it's hard to go on and there is no family and friends have deserted you, trust God. When what Satan meant for your harm, God meant for your good.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Covenant Books, Inc.
• Release date: May 10, 2018
• ISBN: 9781640036581

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Standing Alone in a Long Difficult Journey

Michelle Roberts Nelson

ISBN 978-1-64003-657-4 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-64003-658-1 (Digital)

Copyright © 2018 Michelle Roberts Nelson

All rights reserved

First Edition

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Covenant Books, Inc.

11661 Hwy 707

Murrells Inlet, SC 29576

www.covenantbooks.com

Table of Contents

Part 1

Part 2

To all my White City friends I grew up with and my brothers, John and Brian, you are not forgotten by many.

Bobby R.

Marty

Steve

Joe C.

Frannie

Chris

Robin

Chico

Harry

Joe Cap

Michael

Maryanne

Patrick

Bob R.

Dave

The only person you should try to be better than is the person you were yesterday. (Matty Mullins)

Part 1

Iremember at the time how frustrated I was with very annoying and difficult buyers. Being a real estate agent in Florida could be very challenging to say the least. It would be the turning point of things to come. Things were about to change, and it was not for the better. It would be God’s way of getting me to a place where I would be doing his will, not mine. Moving back to New Jersey was a concept I never considered, not even for a second. He would get me out of my house and then out of my condo.

It started seven years earlier when I came home from New Jersey in 2010 from a visit to see my brother John who was very ill, and to everyone’s surprise including the doctors, he survived miraculously. My husband, Bob, called a few days later to tell me he moved out and filed for divorce. My life as I knew it for the last twelve years was about to change forever. I would be taking a different road in life —one that would make me stronger than I ever could imagine. Why hadn’t God stopped him from leaving while my brother was dying? I knew we were having problems and that he wasn’t happy, but neither was I. I sensed that there was that possibility that he would leave if I went to New Jersey alone. I felt that way because I had asked him to go with me. He said yes, but two days before we were to leave, he said he changed his mind and was not going. What was troubling to me was when he said he wasn’t going with me, his lip trembled. My heart instinctively knew something was off. I honestly didn’t think he would go. Before I left for New Jersey, we had been fighting off and on for several weeks which was not the usual for us. I told him, If you are not happy. Maybe we should see a marriage counselor. Divorce was not an option. I had made too many mistakes in my past. He agreed to go. At that time I had been reading a book called The Five Love Languages by Gary Chapman, and I suggested that maybe he should read the book too. It is an excellent book, and it really does tell on you. I told him although I want to make him happy and for him to be happy that I was not responsible for his own happiness. I knew he did not believe what I was saying because that is the way he thinks. Couples are required to make each other happy.

I don’t believe one spouse should be responsible for the other spouse’s sole happiness. What an exhausting job that would be!

So I got back from New Jersey in May 2010 driving straight through to my home in Port Orange, Florida, a sixteen-hour drive. I was physically and emotionally drained. My friend Annie was waiting for me. I had called her from New Jersey to tell her what happened and ask her to feed my cat until I arrived home because Bob informed me he will no longer come by the house to feed Maya, my cat. Funny thing was while I was gone, I asked Annie to go by the house to see if there was any activity like moving going on that weekend. My gut told me something was going on. She informed me that she went by that Sunday and it looked quiet. I found out later he had moved out the day before. When I walked into the house, I could see furniture pieces missing and a few of my personal items gone as well. When I walked into the bedroom, I saw the book, The Five Love Languages, I gave him to read sitting on my dresser. It alone spoke volumes to me about our marriage and what it meant to him. It was very hurtful but not as hurtful as when I found out that all our friends, save Annie and Sue, knew that he was leaving me and not one told me what he was planning or called me to see how I was. He also had seen an attorney behind my back to find out if he left me, how much he would be losing financially. It is true you find out whom your real friends are when you’re down, broke, or sick. It doesn’t matter how much you do for someone either. I learned the more you do for someone, the less they appreciate you. Many of the friends we had were Bob’s friends from various groups he belonged to but became my friends too when we got married. A lot of them were blind or legally blind as Bob was that I did many many things for them. It is virtuously impossible to count all of the things I did over the years. I realize it meant nothing to them now. I was just there to be used. So when my husband left me, so did all of them. I was actually astonished that not one of the people that I had helped so much bothered to even call me. They are possibly the most ungrateful bunch of people I had ever known. I do really believe that they thought the world owed them something because of their vision problems. I only remember one of them mentioned the lord in all these years. That was Clayton, and he still has some of his vision left. When I mentioned the Lord, the room would fall silent and the people would grow stif . I’ve met people with a lot less who were so grateful for any small thing I’ve done for them. After about two months, I was ready to move on once I was over the initial shock of everything.

What made it more difficult was that I had been sick, and I still have not recovered completely. It did show me what kind of a man he was to leave and run out on his wife when her brother was dying and do all those things behind my back. Coward. So much for in sickness and in health. We had married in July of 1998, and eight months after was when I initially fell ill. I had been feeling fatigued for a long time—a couple of years I guess. I saw my primary doctor several times, and I did blood test and found nothing wrong. Why is that when your blood test comes back normal they assume you are fine? It is so not true. I knew something was wrong or the beginning of something but did not know what, but my body was telling me something was happening. I was cleaning houses at the time making really good money, and one day while cleaning I felt extremely fatigued. I remember sitting down and my heart was not just beating fast but pounding hard as well. It frightened me because I knew something was not right. Again I went to the doctor, a new primary, and he said my blood test was fine. I told him I was not fine. I even tried to exercise thinking I may need that as if cleaning wasn’t enough, right? My heart started to palpitate, so I realized that it wasn’t exercise that I needed but rest. Slowly fatigue started to take over me to the point I could not get out of bed. I went back to the doctor, and that time he said my thyroid levels were off the chart. Why didn’t it show up before? After six to eight weeks, I didn’t feel better but worse. Walking became harder; every muscle in my body ached. My arms hurt so bad I could hardly stand it. Later I would find out that it was lactic acid in my arm muscles that built up. Now my husband was not happy about that because he could not understand why I couldn’t work—not bringing home good money anymore, really? It’s not rocket science if you can barely walk. I knew I was beginning to see another side of him. I finally told my husband I could not work until I found out what was wrong and got help and if he could not understand that, we were in trouble. After that he kept quiet pondering it with distaste I was sure. I had at that point seen many doctors to no avail. I then was on my own to do research and be my own doctor.

After eight months of going to doctors and then doing my own research, I concluded from my symptoms I needed a rheumatologist. I knew my primary was tired of me. He had sent me to so many doctors. I think now he must have thought it was all in my head because nothing was showing in a blood test. I noticed one day when I came into his office to pay a bill that when he saw me he couldn’t get away from the reception desk fast enough. Oh no, here comes psycho patient again!

When I visited the rheumatologist, he sat in front of me to take notes, and he had asked what my symptoms were. After a few minutes, he said he knew what was wrong with me. I replied, Are you going to tell me that it is fibromyalgia? He said yes. I knew from my own research I had the symptoms of this. It was fall of 1999, and fibromyalgia really wasn’t well known like today. He said there was no known cure and that on a scale of 1–10, I was a 6. I felt like a 10. I was in so much pain. He said others were wheelchair bound or bedridden. The fact I was still walking even though slowly made me not a 10. His suggestion was that I take antidepressants to try and change my brain chemistry. I refused. Something in my gut told me no, so I listened. I actually didn’t know if it would make a difference or not, but I did what I believed was right for me. He said if I didn’t take them, he could no longer help me, so I left sad and defeated. Being a Christian, I had to believe for a cure or miracle. The one thing I knew I had to do best for myself was to get better. I started with a nutritionist or chiropractor in St. Augustine an hour away. He told me the pain in my arms was a buildup of lactic acid, but he wasn’t sure why it was happening. So after more tests, the doctor gave me a regimen of vitamins, adjustments, and colored eyeglasses which can affect behavior, mood, and stress levels. I went on a low-carb high-protein diet. I needed the protein since my muscles were affected . I drank more water and slowly walked a few days a week for ten minutes.

I gradually built up to twenty minutes a few times a week. I tried to stay positive and trust God to heal me. It took about two years, and I gradually got better and better. I think I was about 75 percent better by then. I could never overdo anything physically because it would make me relapse for a week if I did. About a year later, I got a job part-time in the hotel gift shops along the beach. I was not able to stand in one spot for more than ten minutes at a time, and I was able to sit on a stool which helped. For some reason, my feet were really affected by fibromyalgia, and even to this day I cannot stand very long without fatigue. On the days I worked, it would be a different hotel gift shop; I had rotated them. It was a nice atmosphere with happy vacationers from every state and different countries. I liked the job because it was only three days a week, sometimes four, and I wasn’t overtaxed by it. One day I had a little relapse and did not make it on that day. One of my coworkers accidently told the boss I had health issues, and she fired me. I think she felt if something happened to me on the job, she would be sued or have to pay for unemployment. My friend felt bad, and I know she didn’t mean for that to happen, but nevertheless it did. Sometimes it is better to keep some things to yourself. I knew my husband was not happy with me not working. I knew I could never clean houses again. All I could do was clean my own house. In a crazy way, I would miss cleaning houses. I loved my clients and working for them. They were some of the kindest and most generous people I knew and treated me like family, never a servant. I would miss them very much.

One of my clients named Betty called me one day and asked me to come over to help her clean. I replied, I just was there the other day what happened?

She began to cry. She said, "Some people broke into the house while Max and I were watching TV. They threw a potted plant from the screen porch into the kitchen window and broke it and were climbing into the house. Max told me to go to the bedroom, and he went into his office to get his gun. How could they know Max worked in Washington D.C. security and owned a gun? Max came out of his office, and one of the two