High Roller

The casino hotel room was every bit fabulous, a true oasis for a king and queen. But this weekend, that big beautiful bed would be accompanied by one person. Someone who was damn near broken.

The room was adorned with every bit of luxury red fabric and gold features. The suite overlooked the Las Vegas Strip and sat smack dab in the middle of high-roller casinos.

But I was not a high-roller tonight. I was practically homeless.

Convincing my then-boyfriend to move

A year earlier, I had convinced my then-boyfriend that moving to Las Vegas was the best thing for us.

I boasted about the high wages he could earn in his industry, the “free spirit-ness” of the west coast, and how every day was going to be like summer. We agreed on moving, made plans together...and then, our relationship went sour.

The traumas I had been through before, the ones I begged him to never do... he did. On top of the repeated infidelity and continuous lies, he victim-blamed the living hell out of me.

Our relationship turned sour

We argued, for months on end. One day the fighting turned physical, and I knew it would never be the same.

And on top of that, every single thing we went through was under the microscope of his over-involved mother. She was constantly judging, constantly meddling, and knew every aspect of our relationship.

I became a terrible version of myself

It was miserable. I began to eat my weight in snacks. Yo-yo dieting. Over-medicating. I was useless to much of the world.

I became a terrible version of myself, and tried desperately to prove to everyone that I was "happy." All the while, my depression, anxiety, PTSD, and everything else were crippling me. I felt dead inside.

Planning the move to Las Vegas

Sometime down the line, we were stuck in quarantine together and forced to talk about things. Our relationship was nowhere near fixed, but we were communicating. We were trying...or at least, I was. Per usual.

After much planning, we both agreed to still make the move...together.

He left me with nothing

But when the time came, he packed up his things and left me with nothing. He moved, with not one regard for me or my son.

I was left to empty the home, make arrangements for his dog, and find a place to live. I traveled back and forth for months. I had belongings at everyone’s house. I was a hot mess.

Making the move on my own

Eventually, with not much to my name, a terrible housing market, and the burden of a failed relationship, I made the move. By myself.

It was every bit of hard. Downright painful. And as I sat in that hotel room, I broke down. I stared into the 6-foot mirror and bawled my eyes out. I was making the biggest move of my life, with no help. No sidekick. No real plan. I felt alone.

I remember begging every higher power to heal my heart. Begging someone, anyone, to lead me on a journey that would benefit my son and me. I took a leap of faith. .. on myself.

Rebuilding my spirit

Although my journey is still filled with struggles, I am doing better. I am managing. The broken feeling I know too well now comes and goes.

I am still scared of all the unknowns. But today, I consider myself more of a high-roller; not by rich income, but by enriching experiences.

I am rebuilding a broken spirit. I am reviving my soul. I am overcoming.