Chris was desperate, looking everywhere he thought he could for us to move. He called his brothers, his mom, and I put all of my faith into him and asked little to no questions – just putting all my faith into my husbands ability and I find us a nice new place to call home. We were running out of time though and the longer it took for us to move, the longer we had this tax refund money burning a hole in his pocket.
Finally, just days before we had to vacate the apartment he found a boat for sale in the little channel of water his mom was anchored in down in Key West in Islamorada for just $300. I knew we had at least 2gs from our taxes but I never paid attention to how much was spent before having to leave and still kind of have no idea what Chris did during that time.
We ended up not having enough to rent a car like I originally wanted to, nor could we fly and we didn’t have enough money for a bus ticket and still pay towards the boat when we got there. There again, we spent too much money on drugs and not enough on a manner of living.
Somehow, Chris being the lucky man that he was he was able to get some money donated to him from the church we occasionally attended and another church was amazing enough to purchase our bus tickets down to Florida. Everything eventually worked out, but I was admittedly pretty pissed off with how careless he’d been with our money.
We detoxed off of heroin and crack all the way down to Florida and then the 6+ hours it took for us to get down to the keys only to find his mom at the Burger King’s greyhound station they had in town, load up the Freebie cab they provide in Islamorada free of charge with our bags and make our way to the Post Card Inn and walk across the street to what they refer to as the Landing and load up his mom’s boat with our luggage and be taken to our new boat.
I don’t know what I was expecting, but surely it was not what I was about to get. Our boat was very small, and it was “anchored” down by the low tide and slightly tilted to one side, the propellers hurried deep in the sand below.
There was no bedding on this boat, no pillows, blankets or any real area to even sleep in. I was in red exhausted from our weeklong journey south to get here and all I wanted to do was unload and stretch out somewhere and feel comfortable.
I was not about to get what I wished for.
Malinda let us crash on her boat for a few days but the anxiety I started experiencing from lack of comfort, sense of space and any real sort of plan for the future to be seen. Chris was somehow very upbeat about the entire situation. He just would tell me everything was going to work itself out and that he was going to get a badass good paying waiter job and I’d find a good paying job and without any bills that we’d just get rich.
I don’t know if the person reading this has ever experienced withdrawal or anything like it but this specific withdrawal had me overwhelmed with anxiety. My body stiff, unsure how to get it to relax long enough for me to feel like breathing would come easy for me. I was crying from how unhappy I was and how my husband spent all our fucking money so we weren’t able to prepare and purchase what we needed to make this boat live-able.
I called my mom in Tarpon Springs a week after we arrived. I cried and cried and begged her to save me. I admitted defeat. After all the shit I’ve been through, all the bullshit living situations that Chris had me endure I had finally reached my limit. Fuck boats.
She bought me a bus ticket to Tampa and I took my suitcase and Chewie and I left. I had every intention in coming back, I assure you, I just wanted Chris to make it as close to at home as he could before me returning.
He got a job at a place called the Lorelei as a bar back and a busser while I was away. And while staying at my moms in Tarpon Springs in a tiny apartment on Orange Street I underwent a complete mental breakdown. I couldn’t move, couldn’t sit up, couldn’t lay down and I certainly couldn’t function properly without undergoing some of the most intense and excruciating anxiety that a person could have.
I think I was gone maybe a month, maybe longer but there was no way I was getting anywhere staying at my moms. I will say this though, I was sober. Not only that, but I was involved with mental health services through the FACT team in Pinellas County and I was taking my medication as directed every day which was a huge step in the right direction.
That was until I went and visited Nessa and Ryan in Hudson one day. I used meth and a little bit of fentanyl while there and convinced Chris to come and visit me for “one last ha-rah.” He flew from Miami to Tampa and took a cab all the way to Hudson from the airport.
Once he got there we did so much drugs in such a short period of time, we rented out the front room at the trap that Nessa was living out for three days and spent the duration of his time in town fucking like rabbits.
Then he went back to Islamorada and I went back to my moms until it was time to go back with him myself.
I returned to Chris on a greyhound bus only to find that the boat was not only not in better condition but in worse. The low tide caused the boat to sink even further into the mud down below so the entire boat was at an intense crooked angle. Luckily, Chris ordered a solar panel set up for the boat, some mattress toppers that we would later use as a mattress and some bedding donated from the church along with some pillows.
But, there was this animosity towards me for leaving him to stay with my mom while he struggled the month I was away. I understood where he was coming from but it was hard to make him understand why I had to do what I did for my mental health. I just did my best to catch up on the progress, especially since returning back to him immediately made all my anxiety disappear. He always seemed to make my mind and body feel more content even when he’s making my life hell.
I got a job at Theatre Of The Sea after just a week or two. Theatre of the Sea was an amusement water park and natural aquarium. It had a lot of rescued animals, turtles, gators, sea lions and dolphins amongst a few others and people could pay to go swimming, interact and even pain with the animals. Hands down one of the coolest jobs I’ve ever worked.
We were both working but the stress levels were still high. Chris seemed like he hated me for abandoning him, he still pressed me on and on about his phone and emails and.. you guessed it! We found drugs again. The lady who sold us the boat, Cammie, also sold methamphetamines.
I’d go into work in the morning, Chris had fluctuating schedules and on our way back from paddling from shore we’d stop at Cammie’s boat and grab a bag from her hoping and praying his mom didn’t notice but eventually she did catch on.
Not too long after we started using did things take a major turn for the worst. At this point, my mom was refusing to even talk to me for getting back together with Chris so I couldn’t run to her for help anymore.
One fight we had lasted longer than a week. We’d argue about phone shit, passwords, emails we locked each other out of and Facebook accounts we couldn’t get into because we were both changing each others passwords on and off for months that year. Every single day our fights got physical and every day I’d end up with a new bruise or sprained hand.
I had enough one day and used my last paycheck from Theatre of the Sea for a plane ticket to Seattle, WA to stay at my brother’s. But, I couldn’t stand to be away from Chris for too long and before I knew it, I was planning my way back to Islamorada as soon as possible. I manipulated my father into buying me a plane ticket to Tampa where I also convinced my mom to give me another chance and told her to pick me up from the airport knowing damn well I was hopping on a bus to Islamorada instead.
It took us all of one day to fall into the same fighting routine once I got there. The black eyes became more noticeable and I was having to wear makeup just to cover them up.
I remember the last good day spent in Islamorada with him was on my birthday when we went to the Post Card Inn and got some strawberry daiquiri’s and quesadillas and made sweet love. After that it was all downhill.
There was one bad fight we had where I finally lost it. I punched myself repeatedly in my forehead so bent out of shape and frustrated after getting punched and smacked by the one man I loved more than anything. I packed up my stuff and made provisions to leave with my paycheck and head down to Key West to stay at a domestic abuse shelter they had down there until I could figure out a smarter and more permanent solution.
I stayed at the domestic abuse shelter in Key West for about two weeks. My second day there they bought me a cell phone at Metro PCS and started helping me make phone calls. Much to my surprise, my mother refused to talk to me any longer than to tel me she wasn’t going to help me and so I was left with all my resources exhausted. I hit up the very last person I’d ever ask to stay with and that was my first husband, Michael.
The shelter bought me a bus ticket to Spring Hill, FL but because I hadn’t stopped my line of communication with Chris, it wasn’t before long he convinced me to get off the bus and come back to him. I passed Islamorada by the time the guilt trip for me to stay kicked in so I got off in the next town, Key Largo, walked a good few miles and got picked up from hitch hiking making my way back to the landing just in time to run into Chris.
Immediately he was upset with me for accepting a ride from someone and we conversed about it for a while before he agreed to let me come back to the boat. Of course, he didn’t tell his mom I was coming back and it didn’t take long before me being back was a problem and I was regretting coming back.
Chris had a hold on me like nothing I could ever really explain to anyone . The hope that things would someday be some sort of picture perfect life was driving me to stay but the drugs, violence and toxicity were what fueled us. We were so codependent on each other and spending any amount of time apart drive us to insanity, even though we always did better separate.
I stayed as long as I could the last time. I got myself a job at CVS and worked there for a good 3 weeks before leaving again. This go around with Chris was so out of this world I sometimes cannot believe I even went through it. He not only laid his hands on me but he threw my entire suitcase in the ocean. It was open so I was able to fish out a few items of clothing but a lot of my possessions were ruined. Photographs, my social security card, momentos, and some irreplaceable memories I held onto were gone forever.
I knew almost as soon as I got there but the thing was I needed to save up money in order to leave so I was hiding my time trying to be as civil as possible until it was time for me to get a ticket out of there. Michael and I kept in contact and though he was disappointed I went back to Chris my spot as his house was still available.
August was when I finally was able to get out of there. Chris wouldn’t even say goodbye to me. I kissed Chewie and cried, mourning my loss before I’d even gone. I got on the bus and made my way to Spring Hill, FL.
Allie Willey 