It's hard reliving this shit. I was in therapy for the last 4 or so years of my 6 year marriage to #2. Even in therapy, I believe I lied. Not on purpose. Facing truths about the person you are SO in love with as well as facing truths about yourself is a hard thing. Especially when you're so fucked up, like I was. The purpose of writing this is to finally let myself off the hook...all these years of my life later!!! In order to do that I believe I have to dig deep and be TRUTHFUL...to myself!
My marriage to #1 was fucked and it did fucked up things to me, but NOTHING in my miserable life compares to what I lived through with #2. Not even being sexually exploited as a kid, teenager and young adult. Nothing. And through the agony, tears, heart wrenching internalized screams, I convinced myself that he loved me, was a GREAT guy and that it was I who was unworthy of his love.
He was beautiful, intelligent, articulate, funny...he sang to me, danced with me, told me how wonderful and beautiful I was and while doing this, was one of the sickest individuals I'd ever come in contact with. He fooled a lot of people, not just me. I think I helped him in this endeavor. Again, not purposely. My own fucked-upedness was what drove me to do this. Facing the truth might have killed me at that point in my life. I say this in all sincerity. I loved my kids, but I hated myself and the slightest thing could have set me over the edge. I thank myself, now, for lying. I think it's the reason I am still alive. Now I am prepared to face the truth...stare it down...and FORGIVE MYSELF...and LIVE!
Friday, September 14, 2012
Friday, August 31, 2012
and so it begins...total destruction
I was giggly as a school-girl and on cloud 9. I hope he calls! He called, about a week or so later, like he said he would. Once he went back to take care of that court thing. He called on a Sunday, asked if I wanted to go out that night. I was hung over from the night before and had to work the next morning, so I told him it wasn't good for me. I suggested mid-week, around Wednesday I'd be available, and to try me again then. He called on Thursday, sorry dude, I told you Wednesday, I've already ordered Chinese take-away & Survivor is on. But I am available on Friday. He says ok, call me if you want to go out, I tell him no, YOU have to call ME if you really want to see me. He called, we agreed to meet later that night at the bar where we'd first met and then take the night from there.
I showed up looking good. Real good. It was obvious by the attention I was getting from the men in the bar & the glares from the women. He wasn't there yet, so when some other guy offered to buy me a drink, I allowed it, with the explanation that I was there to meet another guy and if he showed up I would be taking my drink and joining him. Ok, here's your beer. In a little bit #2 showed...but he brought back-up, just in case I hadn't been there. He didn't want to look like an asshole being stood up. I didn't bring back-up. He looked scared. His friend admitted to being there as back-up and that on their ride from where they'd gone, back to here, #2 had thought he'd lost my number and was in a panic over it. He pulled over on a major highway, cars whizzing past at 75 mph, just to search for my phone number. It was safely stashed in his wallet. I laughed, as #2 stood, embarrassed. As he should have, I'm worth it. His friend was grinning at me & then at him & then back at me again...she's all yours, good luck!
We drank...a lot. Talked and talked about everything and nothing. Laughed. It was great! It was obvious the attraction was mutual. In my mind it was purely sexual...there was that silly glimmer of hope that he'd be "the one". Even though I would never admit I even considered "the one" existed...for anyone. Last call. I wasn't done, he wasn't done. But he was living on someone's couch & I wasn't about to bring him to my place. My kids were there. So we drove to where he was staying and sat in my car, talking, flirting and listening to music. I had promised myself I would NOT have sex with him that first night. He asked if he could kiss me. YES, PLEASE! It was great. I had butterflies in my stomach & was all shaky and nervous. We made out. He seemed just as nervous as I, even a little more. I let him feel me up. I climbed over the console and straddled his lap...let him know how sexually progressive I was and what was to come for him. He liked it. A lot. I could tell. Then I told him good night and to get out of my car, I'd sobered up enough to drive home. Call me...soon...if he wanted more. I think he was dumbfounded. He hesitated, but I assured him I was serious. He got out of my car and looked over his shoulder at me numerous times as I started up my car and drove away. I was exhilarated!!! What power I had over men!!!! I would make him want me so badly, he wouldn't be able to think about anything else. And I'd stuck to my promise to myself...I hadn't had sex with him!!!! Yeah, yeah, passionately kissing, feeling boobies & fingering my pussy was not sex!!!
He called the next day and night. Many times. He called from a number I didn't know, he was at a party at someone's house and they had a land line. He didn't want to be there, but he owed his friends who he was living with and they had no car. All he wanted was to see me again, to be with me. I felt I'd won!!! Won what?!?!? It was such a game to me. Silly deranged me.
I showed up looking good. Real good. It was obvious by the attention I was getting from the men in the bar & the glares from the women. He wasn't there yet, so when some other guy offered to buy me a drink, I allowed it, with the explanation that I was there to meet another guy and if he showed up I would be taking my drink and joining him. Ok, here's your beer. In a little bit #2 showed...but he brought back-up, just in case I hadn't been there. He didn't want to look like an asshole being stood up. I didn't bring back-up. He looked scared. His friend admitted to being there as back-up and that on their ride from where they'd gone, back to here, #2 had thought he'd lost my number and was in a panic over it. He pulled over on a major highway, cars whizzing past at 75 mph, just to search for my phone number. It was safely stashed in his wallet. I laughed, as #2 stood, embarrassed. As he should have, I'm worth it. His friend was grinning at me & then at him & then back at me again...she's all yours, good luck!
We drank...a lot. Talked and talked about everything and nothing. Laughed. It was great! It was obvious the attraction was mutual. In my mind it was purely sexual...there was that silly glimmer of hope that he'd be "the one". Even though I would never admit I even considered "the one" existed...for anyone. Last call. I wasn't done, he wasn't done. But he was living on someone's couch & I wasn't about to bring him to my place. My kids were there. So we drove to where he was staying and sat in my car, talking, flirting and listening to music. I had promised myself I would NOT have sex with him that first night. He asked if he could kiss me. YES, PLEASE! It was great. I had butterflies in my stomach & was all shaky and nervous. We made out. He seemed just as nervous as I, even a little more. I let him feel me up. I climbed over the console and straddled his lap...let him know how sexually progressive I was and what was to come for him. He liked it. A lot. I could tell. Then I told him good night and to get out of my car, I'd sobered up enough to drive home. Call me...soon...if he wanted more. I think he was dumbfounded. He hesitated, but I assured him I was serious. He got out of my car and looked over his shoulder at me numerous times as I started up my car and drove away. I was exhilarated!!! What power I had over men!!!! I would make him want me so badly, he wouldn't be able to think about anything else. And I'd stuck to my promise to myself...I hadn't had sex with him!!!! Yeah, yeah, passionately kissing, feeling boobies & fingering my pussy was not sex!!!
He called the next day and night. Many times. He called from a number I didn't know, he was at a party at someone's house and they had a land line. He didn't want to be there, but he owed his friends who he was living with and they had no car. All he wanted was to see me again, to be with me. I felt I'd won!!! Won what?!?!? It was such a game to me. Silly deranged me.
Friday, August 17, 2012
#2. sometimes taking a shit feels real good...then there's the times it's painful, messy & disrupts life!
In a bar with my very good girl friend. I hate this bar. She loves it. To me, it epitomizes everything I despise about this town. I walk in with a bad attitude. I also habitually walk into places like I own them. I am not sure why I do this. Is it a defense mechanism or does it roll down from childhood when my father DID own a place? Either way, people either want to get to know me or instantly hate me, based upon my entrance. I am trying to change this...sort of.
We walked in the back door, as "usuals" tended to. She went in first, I followed. Heads turned. I'm sure there were a few groans from the regulars at the sight of me. We sat at the end of the bar. Although my friend was a regular here, she was painfully shy & didn't like to look around. I, on the other hand, marched in behind her, disdain clearly on my face (I'm sure) looking about to see who was here. Oh look, same faces...ho hum. Perched at the end of the bar, on my barstool, I look about & realize my initial assumption was off. Who was this beauty standing by himself, also with a bland look of disdain & boredom? I turned to my friend to say I was going to go play some music, does she want to hear anything in particular? As I go to get up, I feel her hand on my arm. She has a look of pleading on her face. NO, he's a baby. I shrug her off, whatever; evil grin spreading on my face. He's cute I tell her. I saunter over, she is not looking in my direction at all. I pretend to look at the juke box & then try to get my friend's attention. She is not looking. So I turn to the young beauty & ask him if he would be so kind to attract the attention of my friend. He looks as though he's gonna shit himself, but he complies. She comes over, clearly horrified with me. We play some music & return to the bar. She is half seriously and half jokingly admonishing me. We laugh over my boldness.
After a bit, I am seriously bored. I use the excuse that I want to sit at a table & look at the sports news on the tv, I can't see it from where we are at the bar. At first she says ok, I know she feels exposed sitting at the end of the bar, with so few patrons. Then she notices who is standing in the other room, just opposite the table I choose. OH NO. I giggle & go over the table & plop myself down. She is caught between sitting alone at the bar (which exposes her more) or coming over with me. She chooses the latter, but gives me a sharp look. I start up a conversation with the young cutie in a matter of minutes. It's all about sports. We get into a pretty in depth conversation. It felt like 20 minutes but was more like 2 hours. Me completely ignoring my friend. I was smitten. He asked me for my phone number. I gave it willingly. He was 29, I was 37. He was never married, no kids. I was divorced with 2 teenagers. He said something about having just moved there, 2 weeks prior, from somewhere north. I told him how I hated the place. He was riding a friend's couch, while trying to find a place of his own (lie #1? or 50 of the night). He also told me he'd call me in a bout a week, as he was heading back home for a bit, something he had to take care of. Court, I ask? His eyes got wide & he looked panicked for a split second, yeah, he replied. I don't ask what for, what do I care, in college I "dated" a felon, someone who had killed a drug dealer years before. We chat a bit more but then it's closing time. I never even heard last call. My friend & I are permitted to stay, but everyone else has to leave. He tries to give me his number...all 3 of them (local number, where he is staying, cell phone & phone where I may be able to reach him when he's out of town). I slide the paper with the numbers on it back over to him. I won't call you, I tell him. At that point, his friends are getting pissed, he is their ride, let's go already. The female in the pack approaches him, whining about needing to leave, then turns to me to thank me for coming into the bar. He was being a real asshole until I showed up, then it was all about the "beautiful woman who just walked in, look at her, isn't she the most beautiful woman?" He sternly gives her a look & tells her to wait outside, for all of them to wait outside, he'll be right there. Looks sadly at me, picks up the paper I wrote my number on for him and asks if he should just rip it up now. Nope, I tell him, I am beautiful, call me when you're back in town.
Huge grin! Oh my gosh, I think he is so beautiful. I want him to kiss me. SO BADLY. But he doesn't...what?!?!? He just nervously says good night and walks out the door, looking over his shoulder at me numerous times.
We walked in the back door, as "usuals" tended to. She went in first, I followed. Heads turned. I'm sure there were a few groans from the regulars at the sight of me. We sat at the end of the bar. Although my friend was a regular here, she was painfully shy & didn't like to look around. I, on the other hand, marched in behind her, disdain clearly on my face (I'm sure) looking about to see who was here. Oh look, same faces...ho hum. Perched at the end of the bar, on my barstool, I look about & realize my initial assumption was off. Who was this beauty standing by himself, also with a bland look of disdain & boredom? I turned to my friend to say I was going to go play some music, does she want to hear anything in particular? As I go to get up, I feel her hand on my arm. She has a look of pleading on her face. NO, he's a baby. I shrug her off, whatever; evil grin spreading on my face. He's cute I tell her. I saunter over, she is not looking in my direction at all. I pretend to look at the juke box & then try to get my friend's attention. She is not looking. So I turn to the young beauty & ask him if he would be so kind to attract the attention of my friend. He looks as though he's gonna shit himself, but he complies. She comes over, clearly horrified with me. We play some music & return to the bar. She is half seriously and half jokingly admonishing me. We laugh over my boldness.
After a bit, I am seriously bored. I use the excuse that I want to sit at a table & look at the sports news on the tv, I can't see it from where we are at the bar. At first she says ok, I know she feels exposed sitting at the end of the bar, with so few patrons. Then she notices who is standing in the other room, just opposite the table I choose. OH NO. I giggle & go over the table & plop myself down. She is caught between sitting alone at the bar (which exposes her more) or coming over with me. She chooses the latter, but gives me a sharp look. I start up a conversation with the young cutie in a matter of minutes. It's all about sports. We get into a pretty in depth conversation. It felt like 20 minutes but was more like 2 hours. Me completely ignoring my friend. I was smitten. He asked me for my phone number. I gave it willingly. He was 29, I was 37. He was never married, no kids. I was divorced with 2 teenagers. He said something about having just moved there, 2 weeks prior, from somewhere north. I told him how I hated the place. He was riding a friend's couch, while trying to find a place of his own (lie #1? or 50 of the night). He also told me he'd call me in a bout a week, as he was heading back home for a bit, something he had to take care of. Court, I ask? His eyes got wide & he looked panicked for a split second, yeah, he replied. I don't ask what for, what do I care, in college I "dated" a felon, someone who had killed a drug dealer years before. We chat a bit more but then it's closing time. I never even heard last call. My friend & I are permitted to stay, but everyone else has to leave. He tries to give me his number...all 3 of them (local number, where he is staying, cell phone & phone where I may be able to reach him when he's out of town). I slide the paper with the numbers on it back over to him. I won't call you, I tell him. At that point, his friends are getting pissed, he is their ride, let's go already. The female in the pack approaches him, whining about needing to leave, then turns to me to thank me for coming into the bar. He was being a real asshole until I showed up, then it was all about the "beautiful woman who just walked in, look at her, isn't she the most beautiful woman?" He sternly gives her a look & tells her to wait outside, for all of them to wait outside, he'll be right there. Looks sadly at me, picks up the paper I wrote my number on for him and asks if he should just rip it up now. Nope, I tell him, I am beautiful, call me when you're back in town.
Huge grin! Oh my gosh, I think he is so beautiful. I want him to kiss me. SO BADLY. But he doesn't...what?!?!? He just nervously says good night and walks out the door, looking over his shoulder at me numerous times.
Friday, August 10, 2012
time heals no wounds unless you let it
So here I was, single with two small-ish children.I could see what #1's multitudes of women in & out of his life was doing to the kids. I didn't want to do that or add to their confusion. So I chose not to date. But I did want to get laid...maybe. I had no respect for men when I married #1, I certainly didn't after divorcing him. I wanted male approval & attention but didn't feel worthy of love & affection. My answer to this was to hit on my best friend's neighbor. I was over at her place, visiting & noticed him. HOT! She let me know that he was asking all kinds of questions about me. NICE! I'd been single for almost a year at this point & hadn't had sex for much longer (recall #1 & I had separate rooms). Love was never my answer, but sex certainly was. I went over to said friend's apartment one night, KNOWING she was out of town. Knocking on her door, the neighbor poked his head out. Why hello! He let me know she was out of town, silly me, I had forgotten. Did I want to come in for a beer? But of course! One thing led to another...yeah yeah, I got laid. Good & proper. I let my friend know when she came back to town. She laughed but I could tell she also was not too thrilled. After all she had to live next to this guy. But I like sex, so I disregarded her feelings & popped over his place again. One thing led to another. This time it wasn't so good & proper. Hmmm, maybe I should try this again, since the first time was great. Did it...Nope, sucked again. So I was done with this guy.
As the years progressed I started a career. I was very successful and professional in that aspect. My social life on the other hand was on a downward spiral. While I was with #1 I didn't drink or drug. Ten years without so much as a beer. Remember, I'm not the alcoholic. I started going out with friends, one beer here & there, no big deal. Frustration with men & getting myself laid & ignoring what was really going on inside me, I started getting drunk when I went out. D-RUNK! Stupid. How I never got a DUI is beyond me. No drugs still...24 years and counting.
I got in a "realtionship" with several unhappily married men throughout the years. Hey, they were the ones who were married, not me. I met guys online and they seemed cool then I met them and they were junk. But I wanted to have that sexual attention that I craved so much. So I fucked them even though I pretty much found them to be repulsive. Then they never heard from me again.
After 5 years of being single & doing this I found myself exhausted and miserable. So I tried dating for real. I met this great guy. Well, he was super fun. He had issues of his own. Was a single father. Drank every weekend & smoked pot. Really?!?!?! Are we doing this again???? We were on & off for about a year. Then I put my foot down. He wasn't happy and tried for a few months to get back together. Even though it was HE who said no time for a relationship. I met another guy. He was great!!!! No drugs, no drink, solid career, owned his own home...8 hours from where I lived. Long distance for about 5 months. No real romance, but lots of sex. That was done. Then I met another guy, about a half a year later...I think I was feeling super UNlovable at this point...I settled for a month or so with him. Each one of these men I had sex with the very night I met them. Can we see a pattern here?
At this point, I'd been divorced for 7+ years. I see this guy while I'm out at a bar with a friend. He is BEAUTIFUL!!!! But young, oh so young. I find out 8 years younger than I am. But we are mutually attracted and he can carry an intelligent conversation and he thinks I am beautiful and worth loving. Enter into the mix...#2!!!!!
As the years progressed I started a career. I was very successful and professional in that aspect. My social life on the other hand was on a downward spiral. While I was with #1 I didn't drink or drug. Ten years without so much as a beer. Remember, I'm not the alcoholic. I started going out with friends, one beer here & there, no big deal. Frustration with men & getting myself laid & ignoring what was really going on inside me, I started getting drunk when I went out. D-RUNK! Stupid. How I never got a DUI is beyond me. No drugs still...24 years and counting.
I got in a "realtionship" with several unhappily married men throughout the years. Hey, they were the ones who were married, not me. I met guys online and they seemed cool then I met them and they were junk. But I wanted to have that sexual attention that I craved so much. So I fucked them even though I pretty much found them to be repulsive. Then they never heard from me again.
After 5 years of being single & doing this I found myself exhausted and miserable. So I tried dating for real. I met this great guy. Well, he was super fun. He had issues of his own. Was a single father. Drank every weekend & smoked pot. Really?!?!?! Are we doing this again???? We were on & off for about a year. Then I put my foot down. He wasn't happy and tried for a few months to get back together. Even though it was HE who said no time for a relationship. I met another guy. He was great!!!! No drugs, no drink, solid career, owned his own home...8 hours from where I lived. Long distance for about 5 months. No real romance, but lots of sex. That was done. Then I met another guy, about a half a year later...I think I was feeling super UNlovable at this point...I settled for a month or so with him. Each one of these men I had sex with the very night I met them. Can we see a pattern here?
At this point, I'd been divorced for 7+ years. I see this guy while I'm out at a bar with a friend. He is BEAUTIFUL!!!! But young, oh so young. I find out 8 years younger than I am. But we are mutually attracted and he can carry an intelligent conversation and he thinks I am beautiful and worth loving. Enter into the mix...#2!!!!!
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
unfeeling me
I got everything I wanted in the divorce...the kids. #1 was sad, I wasn't. I couldn't understand why he would be sad. We didn't LIKE one another. What's to be sad about??? The visitation schedule was set by the courts. He got every other weekend and had to pay a pittance in child support. I was fine with that. Because we now lived two-plus hours away from each other, I had to pay half of his driving expenses when he came to pick up the kids and he had to pay half mine when I drove them to him. I usually ended up paying ALL of mine and MOST of his. I would stash cash in my daughter's bag, just in case, so they could eat while visiting him. The judge ordered that #1 could NOT consume any alcohol or drugs while with the kids. When we went to court, #1 proudly admitted to his drug/alcohol (ab)use. He never paid attention to that. He would pour beer into old Pepsi cans. Our daughter was 9 years old & not stupid. She was unaware of the stipulation of the courts, but knew Dad drunk was a bad thing. I tried talking to #1 about this. I appealed to what I thought was in there...a normal, sane father who wanted what was best for his kids in a not so great situation. I told him I wanted him to be a part of their lives and I didn't want to have to go back to court because of the alcohol use. It's two fucking days out of your life, twice a month!!!! Nope.
As a matter-of-fact, things got worse. Within months of my leaving and our pending divorce, #1's new girlfriend moved in with him. Great. She was more nuts than he was. Twice, during their relationship, while the kids were visiting, I got a call from the local police after midnight, telling me I had to drive down there to pick up my kids. #1's girlfriend was on a rant & they were fighting & neighbors phoned the police. I felt forced to go back to court. That is when #1 decided the kids were better off without him. The courts ordered that the woman not be allowed alone with the kids. #1 had to abstain from drinking (yeah right) and it was up to me to decide when and if they should visit with him. This was his idea...he loved this woman and wouldn't kick her out.
From 1998 (when this was decided) until mid 2007, when we left that state, my children visited with their father a hand-full of times. He'd been through a few women. One he was planning on marrying. This was one time he tried with the kids. He started picking them up about once a month for almost 4 months. Then we stopped hearing from him. I finally reached him by phone, after like 3 months, only to find out that the wedding probably wasn't going to happen. The woman was in the hospital, after a series of mini strokes and they were running tests. She quickly faded & passed away. #1 called to tell me this. I was sad for him. That's when he told me the most shocking news NO ONE ever wants to hear: she died from complications from AIDS. WHAT?!?!?!?!?!? He said they didn't know she was even HIV positive. What about you, I asked.
He'd been tested, he'd let me know the results as soon as he knew. I was in a tailspin!!!! The results came quickly, he was positive. I think my world went blank at that moment. How do I tell my kids??? One was 14 & the other was just under 10 years old.
I got them a dog. And then I told them. The father of my children has been living (poorly) with HIV for over 9 years now. My kids have to think about this every day of their lives. Since the diagnosis, he has disappeared from their lives for years at a time. We don't know where he is, we don't know IF he is. It's been a struggle, to say the least.
Roughly 6 months ago, he decided to try to be a part of their lives. For 15 + years, he has not tried to get to know them. He is a virtual stranger to them. But they are giving him a chance. I think my (grown) kids are PHENOMENAL!!!!!!!!!!!
As a matter-of-fact, things got worse. Within months of my leaving and our pending divorce, #1's new girlfriend moved in with him. Great. She was more nuts than he was. Twice, during their relationship, while the kids were visiting, I got a call from the local police after midnight, telling me I had to drive down there to pick up my kids. #1's girlfriend was on a rant & they were fighting & neighbors phoned the police. I felt forced to go back to court. That is when #1 decided the kids were better off without him. The courts ordered that the woman not be allowed alone with the kids. #1 had to abstain from drinking (yeah right) and it was up to me to decide when and if they should visit with him. This was his idea...he loved this woman and wouldn't kick her out.
From 1998 (when this was decided) until mid 2007, when we left that state, my children visited with their father a hand-full of times. He'd been through a few women. One he was planning on marrying. This was one time he tried with the kids. He started picking them up about once a month for almost 4 months. Then we stopped hearing from him. I finally reached him by phone, after like 3 months, only to find out that the wedding probably wasn't going to happen. The woman was in the hospital, after a series of mini strokes and they were running tests. She quickly faded & passed away. #1 called to tell me this. I was sad for him. That's when he told me the most shocking news NO ONE ever wants to hear: she died from complications from AIDS. WHAT?!?!?!?!?!? He said they didn't know she was even HIV positive. What about you, I asked.
He'd been tested, he'd let me know the results as soon as he knew. I was in a tailspin!!!! The results came quickly, he was positive. I think my world went blank at that moment. How do I tell my kids??? One was 14 & the other was just under 10 years old.
I got them a dog. And then I told them. The father of my children has been living (poorly) with HIV for over 9 years now. My kids have to think about this every day of their lives. Since the diagnosis, he has disappeared from their lives for years at a time. We don't know where he is, we don't know IF he is. It's been a struggle, to say the least.
Roughly 6 months ago, he decided to try to be a part of their lives. For 15 + years, he has not tried to get to know them. He is a virtual stranger to them. But they are giving him a chance. I think my (grown) kids are PHENOMENAL!!!!!!!!!!!
Saturday, August 4, 2012
it's time for a reality check
We moved back to be closer to MY family. Things didn't work out so well for us in that town. A friend of #1 moved close by us, along with his girlfriend. Not good. #1 couldn't find work. I did as a server in a restaurant. Then came the accident. I was driving to the store, on back roads, with the friend's girlfriend when we got hit head-on by an old man who should not have been driving. The car was totaled & I was injured. So here we are, no car, no job, 2 kids and his asshole friend & his asshole girlfriend mooching off us. #1 went south to a cousin's who had his own business & needed help. Eventually we all ended up there (sans the friend & girlfriend...turned out, he was wanted by the FBI & took off to hide). This was even worse. The cousin, his wife, their 2 kids and us. Plus our dogs & cats. In one house. Aside from the kids, I am the only sober one!!! FUCK! We spent three months there, until we found our own house.
They were drinking every day and on the job. Smoking pot constantly. But hey, it's only pot, right? Yeah, a few hundred dollars worth of pot a week. I put the kids in daycare and school and found a job...or two...or three. It was getting uglier and uglier at home. We each had our own rooms. What kind of life is that? It got to the point where #1 was working but not making any money because the cousins were spending it before they made it. Spending it on alcohol, pot and (as i came to find out) coke. Jeez, will this nightmare ever end?!?! I found out about the coke one night when I had to meet #1 at his cousin's house after I got off work from one of my many jobs. The kids were all huddled on a quilt on the living room floor watching tv, while the "adults" were huddled in the pot & cigarette smoke filled kitchen. I could see their jaws going a mile a minute. I sneaked upstairs while they were in a heated discussion & found lines of coke on the glass portion of their child's photograph. My eldest child was nervous and demanding to leave, so I went in & told #1 it was time to go. This led to an argument, which both his cousin & his wife thought they had a right to get into. So I went in the other room, took my kids & left. Fuck them!
#1 could/ would no longer associate with anyone who didn't smoke pot. When he had none, he wouldn't get out of bed & everything was a fight. He would roll joints to put at his bedside table to smoke when he rolled over at night. His cousin's wife got a settlement of over $100K...that was gone, up their noses & into their lungs, in a matter of months. This was crazy, what the hell I was I doing here & what was I doing to my kids. I appealed to #1, said I would take the kids & leave if this didn't stop. Again, I must give credit where credit is due, he tried. We tried to rekindle (?) what we had. There really wasn't anything of substance there to rekindle. We both failed miserably.
One last bang-up blow-out fight. He'd barricaded himself into his room and was playing music or tv at the loudest possible volume. It was late on a Saturday night. I forced my way into his room and we fought!!!! Yelled and accused and cursed out. We said the meanest possible things to one another. We called each other horrible names. At one point he pushed me up against the wall & spit in my face. The kids were in the other room . Crying, eldest was trying to intervene, she was only 8 years old. I grabbed the 4 year old, who was actually sleeping & wrapped him in a sheet, put him in the back seat of the car & strapped him in, ordered the 8 year old into the car...now! All the while #1 was ranting & yelling & threatening to kill me if I took HIS kids. I drove to a friend's house. It was after midnight. I was a mess, my kids were a mess. We camped out on the floor in one of her bedrooms that night. The next morning, I went back to our house. #1 had put all my things in garbage bags...that made packing easier for me. He wasn't there, he'd phoned the cousin, who picked him up & loaned him their car to go looking for me. I threw everything he'd packed for me & all the kids' stuff into our car. Packed the kids in & as soon as I was set to leave, up pulled #1. Yelling & threatening me in front of the kids. Telling our 8 year old she didn't have to go with me, that she was his. I drove away, like I was outrunning a giant tornado. Drove faster than was safe to drive, straight to my parents' house. I did the two-plus hour drive in record time. Shaking and checking the rear view mirror the entire time. Was he following me? Would he be crazy enough to try and run me off the road?
They let me stay, with the kids, but I had to pay my own way. That was fine with me. I got there on a Sunday afternoon. On Monday morning I went to the court house to get the required paperwork for divorce. Put a fork in me, I was DONE!!!!!!
They were drinking every day and on the job. Smoking pot constantly. But hey, it's only pot, right? Yeah, a few hundred dollars worth of pot a week. I put the kids in daycare and school and found a job...or two...or three. It was getting uglier and uglier at home. We each had our own rooms. What kind of life is that? It got to the point where #1 was working but not making any money because the cousins were spending it before they made it. Spending it on alcohol, pot and (as i came to find out) coke. Jeez, will this nightmare ever end?!?! I found out about the coke one night when I had to meet #1 at his cousin's house after I got off work from one of my many jobs. The kids were all huddled on a quilt on the living room floor watching tv, while the "adults" were huddled in the pot & cigarette smoke filled kitchen. I could see their jaws going a mile a minute. I sneaked upstairs while they were in a heated discussion & found lines of coke on the glass portion of their child's photograph. My eldest child was nervous and demanding to leave, so I went in & told #1 it was time to go. This led to an argument, which both his cousin & his wife thought they had a right to get into. So I went in the other room, took my kids & left. Fuck them!
#1 could/ would no longer associate with anyone who didn't smoke pot. When he had none, he wouldn't get out of bed & everything was a fight. He would roll joints to put at his bedside table to smoke when he rolled over at night. His cousin's wife got a settlement of over $100K...that was gone, up their noses & into their lungs, in a matter of months. This was crazy, what the hell I was I doing here & what was I doing to my kids. I appealed to #1, said I would take the kids & leave if this didn't stop. Again, I must give credit where credit is due, he tried. We tried to rekindle (?) what we had. There really wasn't anything of substance there to rekindle. We both failed miserably.
One last bang-up blow-out fight. He'd barricaded himself into his room and was playing music or tv at the loudest possible volume. It was late on a Saturday night. I forced my way into his room and we fought!!!! Yelled and accused and cursed out. We said the meanest possible things to one another. We called each other horrible names. At one point he pushed me up against the wall & spit in my face. The kids were in the other room . Crying, eldest was trying to intervene, she was only 8 years old. I grabbed the 4 year old, who was actually sleeping & wrapped him in a sheet, put him in the back seat of the car & strapped him in, ordered the 8 year old into the car...now! All the while #1 was ranting & yelling & threatening to kill me if I took HIS kids. I drove to a friend's house. It was after midnight. I was a mess, my kids were a mess. We camped out on the floor in one of her bedrooms that night. The next morning, I went back to our house. #1 had put all my things in garbage bags...that made packing easier for me. He wasn't there, he'd phoned the cousin, who picked him up & loaned him their car to go looking for me. I threw everything he'd packed for me & all the kids' stuff into our car. Packed the kids in & as soon as I was set to leave, up pulled #1. Yelling & threatening me in front of the kids. Telling our 8 year old she didn't have to go with me, that she was his. I drove away, like I was outrunning a giant tornado. Drove faster than was safe to drive, straight to my parents' house. I did the two-plus hour drive in record time. Shaking and checking the rear view mirror the entire time. Was he following me? Would he be crazy enough to try and run me off the road?
They let me stay, with the kids, but I had to pay my own way. That was fine with me. I got there on a Sunday afternoon. On Monday morning I went to the court house to get the required paperwork for divorce. Put a fork in me, I was DONE!!!!!!
Friday, August 3, 2012
don't cry for me argentina...
Anyone's red flags going up yet? Apparently not mine. It dawned on me that it was totally wrong of #1 to go out and do massive amounts of coke and get his drunk on in celebration of the birth of a child. But again, we were young, I was half through my 21st year and he, a year younger. Yeah yeah, back in "Little House on the Prairie" days people were grandparents at that age & had plenty of responsibility, but we're talking late '80s here and I was a spoiled, albeit neglected, rotten brat & he was raised by a drunk. I never refer to his father as an alcoholic but rather a drunk. It's mean, I guess, but tough shit. I'm still working on that whole "empathy" thing with addicts/alcoholics. For some I absolutely have it, but for others, whose disease has effected my life in such a negative way, well, like I said, I'm working on it.
So instead of being totally incensed about the celebration, I kinda shrugged it off. Yes, if memory serves me I did get kinda pissed, but I didn't give an ultimatum. I had no ultimatums to give. I had a child now and no job and no place to go. I had left my parents without telling them I was leaving. I left a note & had a friend drop me at the bus. Hey, I was an adult, my life was my choice. My father was back on the "you're disowned" bandwagon and my mother told me if she thought the child wasn't getting everything it needed, she would take me to court. So here I was, in my baby-daddy's drunken father's home alone with an infant while the baby-daddy was out doing his drunken/high thing. Yes, he worked, I would have to say that for him. He was a very functioning addict. So instead of putting my foot down & saying, "grow the fuck up", I nagged until we got our own place. Then I nagged and begged and threatened to get him to quit.
Our child was around two years old when we decided to get married & make it official. He was still using, just not as much. He worked too much to get drunk and switched from coke to smoking pot. Pot, that's not so bad.
As the years went on we coexisted. I said I loved him. He said he loved me. We fought a lot. We had the same issues in our 6th year together that we had in our first. So we had another child. He was pretty much sober, or as sober as he could/would be. And he wouldn't allow his father around the kids when he was drunk and wouldn't allow him around them alone. Things had happened when he was drunk & playing with our first child. He couldn't differentiate between her laughing or when she was screaming in pain because he was actually hurting her while playing. I would calmly point this out to #1 while it was happening. "You might want to tell your father to stop because the kid is screaming in pain, not laughing." After a bit, I think it really got on #1's nerves. Plus he loved that kid SO much, to see her in pain was out of the question.
So partially sober. Second child born. #1 in his glory. But things start to slip. It's too much for him. He's working some 80 hours/week, I'm home with the kids. He needs to burn off aggression so he starts hanging out with a hardcore band and is their UNofficial roadie. He is gone whenever he's not working. Overnights some times. Leaves me with two kids in a more desolate part of town with no means of transportation. He starts doing coke again, other things.
I decide we have to move. Back closer to my family. I have more or less mended fences. My father still doesn't quite like me but he does kinda love me, in his own way, but he absolutely loves the kids. If I get #1 away from these people, he'll be a good father & husband and love me like he really should.
Yeah RIGHT!!!!!!!!!!
So instead of being totally incensed about the celebration, I kinda shrugged it off. Yes, if memory serves me I did get kinda pissed, but I didn't give an ultimatum. I had no ultimatums to give. I had a child now and no job and no place to go. I had left my parents without telling them I was leaving. I left a note & had a friend drop me at the bus. Hey, I was an adult, my life was my choice. My father was back on the "you're disowned" bandwagon and my mother told me if she thought the child wasn't getting everything it needed, she would take me to court. So here I was, in my baby-daddy's drunken father's home alone with an infant while the baby-daddy was out doing his drunken/high thing. Yes, he worked, I would have to say that for him. He was a very functioning addict. So instead of putting my foot down & saying, "grow the fuck up", I nagged until we got our own place. Then I nagged and begged and threatened to get him to quit.
Our child was around two years old when we decided to get married & make it official. He was still using, just not as much. He worked too much to get drunk and switched from coke to smoking pot. Pot, that's not so bad.
As the years went on we coexisted. I said I loved him. He said he loved me. We fought a lot. We had the same issues in our 6th year together that we had in our first. So we had another child. He was pretty much sober, or as sober as he could/would be. And he wouldn't allow his father around the kids when he was drunk and wouldn't allow him around them alone. Things had happened when he was drunk & playing with our first child. He couldn't differentiate between her laughing or when she was screaming in pain because he was actually hurting her while playing. I would calmly point this out to #1 while it was happening. "You might want to tell your father to stop because the kid is screaming in pain, not laughing." After a bit, I think it really got on #1's nerves. Plus he loved that kid SO much, to see her in pain was out of the question.
So partially sober. Second child born. #1 in his glory. But things start to slip. It's too much for him. He's working some 80 hours/week, I'm home with the kids. He needs to burn off aggression so he starts hanging out with a hardcore band and is their UNofficial roadie. He is gone whenever he's not working. Overnights some times. Leaves me with two kids in a more desolate part of town with no means of transportation. He starts doing coke again, other things.
I decide we have to move. Back closer to my family. I have more or less mended fences. My father still doesn't quite like me but he does kinda love me, in his own way, but he absolutely loves the kids. If I get #1 away from these people, he'll be a good father & husband and love me like he really should.
Yeah RIGHT!!!!!!!!!!
Friday, July 27, 2012
time marches on
#1 and I fought...a lot. I wanted/needed more attention than he could give me. How much attention can an addict give another person. Really? He didn't like to be touched. If I snuggled up to him in bed he would tell me he didn't like his chest to be touched or he'd comment on what a "slut" his friends had told him I was. I learned not to initiate sex or touch too much. Eventually, my needs would lead to a fight. They would become demands and begging and threats to take the kid and leave. Deep down I knew that sex didn't equal love, but sex was the attention I had gotten from males my whole life, so to me it was the only attention I deserved and if this person who CLAIMED to love me didn't want me sexually, then my whole world came crashing down on me. And I would cry and beg and threaten.
We'd separated for a few months during my pregnancy. We'd gone to live with my parents. My father had disowned me when he found out I was pregnant. My mother told us we could move in. This was a BAAAAD idea from the get-go. We had dogs & my parents said, no dogs. We were unemployed & underemployed and starting a family, we could stay with them just to get on our feet. He started working for them. BAAAAD idea number two! Eventually it all got to be too much and he took off to get his dogs and move in with some guy he'd met somewhere. I was welcomed to do as I pleased, but the child I was carrying was his. After about a month he moved out with the guy and went back to his father's home, 1000+ miles away from me. Asked me to move with him. Life with my parents was miserable, constantly hearing how I'd fucked up. My pregnancy was miserable, I had morning sickness all the time. I left and went to him.
Life at his father's house was nightmarish. His father was a drunk. Stumbling, muttering, sometimes scary drunk. #1 left me home alone a lot. He worked or went out with friends to get drunk or high or both. I was left in this cramped railroad apartment with his judgmental sister or drunken father. So I begged to go out with him. 7 months pregnant & hanging out in a smoke filled cocaine & beer inspired room with the father of my unborn child & his friends. Sometimes I would just take off and go into the city to stay with a friend of mine. No word to anyone about where I was going. He would find me and beg or threaten me to come back. I always did.
When our child was born, we moved out of his father's place and into our own cramped quarters. It was better, but not by much.
I'd like to add, as a side note, that I was in labor for over a day & although he wasn't allowed in the delivery room with me, he stayed at the hospital until our child was born and made all the phone calls to family & friends. He was so excited, the nurses thought he was adorable! Then he promptly went out with friends and did massive amounts of coke to celebrate the birth of his child.
We'd separated for a few months during my pregnancy. We'd gone to live with my parents. My father had disowned me when he found out I was pregnant. My mother told us we could move in. This was a BAAAAD idea from the get-go. We had dogs & my parents said, no dogs. We were unemployed & underemployed and starting a family, we could stay with them just to get on our feet. He started working for them. BAAAAD idea number two! Eventually it all got to be too much and he took off to get his dogs and move in with some guy he'd met somewhere. I was welcomed to do as I pleased, but the child I was carrying was his. After about a month he moved out with the guy and went back to his father's home, 1000+ miles away from me. Asked me to move with him. Life with my parents was miserable, constantly hearing how I'd fucked up. My pregnancy was miserable, I had morning sickness all the time. I left and went to him.
Life at his father's house was nightmarish. His father was a drunk. Stumbling, muttering, sometimes scary drunk. #1 left me home alone a lot. He worked or went out with friends to get drunk or high or both. I was left in this cramped railroad apartment with his judgmental sister or drunken father. So I begged to go out with him. 7 months pregnant & hanging out in a smoke filled cocaine & beer inspired room with the father of my unborn child & his friends. Sometimes I would just take off and go into the city to stay with a friend of mine. No word to anyone about where I was going. He would find me and beg or threaten me to come back. I always did.
When our child was born, we moved out of his father's place and into our own cramped quarters. It was better, but not by much.
I'd like to add, as a side note, that I was in labor for over a day & although he wasn't allowed in the delivery room with me, he stayed at the hospital until our child was born and made all the phone calls to family & friends. He was so excited, the nurses thought he was adorable! Then he promptly went out with friends and did massive amounts of coke to celebrate the birth of his child.
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
It's a healing process
Since I marry addicts/alcoholics, I will term them #1 & #2. It seems apropos since that's exactly where both these marriages ended...in the toilet.
I was with #1 for ten years. Wow, right?!?! Two kids. It was a struggle most of the time, getting along, finding things in common. Again, we were young & both looking for someone to love us. Both of us felt unlovable, for a myriad of different reasons. I just don't think we knew it at the time. We certainly didn't express the sentiment. I'd like to think that we did love one another in our own special ways.
We met through our social network of punks/skins. We both used drugs/alcohol. We did it in different ways. He did it to escape. I did it out of boredom & I think I had a bit of a death wish as well. Not like "oh god, i want to die" on the surface, but simmering below the surface...it had always been there. It's still there now, just in a different way. Or maybe I just understand it better. I dunno.
I remember telling my good friend, when she asked me why the hell I was with #1, it was because he remembered my name. Most other guys, who am I fooling, ALL other guys, at the time, just wanted to lay me. I pretty much thought that was fine. What else was I worth, what else were THEY worth? I used to refer to men as cockroaches. Step on one & another crawls out of the woodwork. I liked the power I had over the male species. They are suckers for pussy.
Back to subject. I think I also wanted stability. I'd left my parents' home at 17. Finished HS, got into that prestigious Uni & fell in with people I could relate to. I CRAVED male attention!!!!! My father had disowned me so many times by then, I'd lost count. My mother always allowed me back home for visits, holidays mainly. I really didn't want to be there. I was an embarrassment to my father. Here's where the "daddy" issues pops in. I wanted acceptance & love...UNconditional love from my father so I married a man who was the polar opposite!!!! And I did it...TWICE!!!!!! Can you say, "WHAT THE FUCK?!?" boys & girls...
I was with #1 for ten years. Wow, right?!?! Two kids. It was a struggle most of the time, getting along, finding things in common. Again, we were young & both looking for someone to love us. Both of us felt unlovable, for a myriad of different reasons. I just don't think we knew it at the time. We certainly didn't express the sentiment. I'd like to think that we did love one another in our own special ways.
We met through our social network of punks/skins. We both used drugs/alcohol. We did it in different ways. He did it to escape. I did it out of boredom & I think I had a bit of a death wish as well. Not like "oh god, i want to die" on the surface, but simmering below the surface...it had always been there. It's still there now, just in a different way. Or maybe I just understand it better. I dunno.
I remember telling my good friend, when she asked me why the hell I was with #1, it was because he remembered my name. Most other guys, who am I fooling, ALL other guys, at the time, just wanted to lay me. I pretty much thought that was fine. What else was I worth, what else were THEY worth? I used to refer to men as cockroaches. Step on one & another crawls out of the woodwork. I liked the power I had over the male species. They are suckers for pussy.
Back to subject. I think I also wanted stability. I'd left my parents' home at 17. Finished HS, got into that prestigious Uni & fell in with people I could relate to. I CRAVED male attention!!!!! My father had disowned me so many times by then, I'd lost count. My mother always allowed me back home for visits, holidays mainly. I really didn't want to be there. I was an embarrassment to my father. Here's where the "daddy" issues pops in. I wanted acceptance & love...UNconditional love from my father so I married a man who was the polar opposite!!!! And I did it...TWICE!!!!!! Can you say, "WHAT THE FUCK?!?" boys & girls...
Friday, July 20, 2012
first attempt...bear with me
First off I would like to say I am no writer. I'll leave that to my wonderful sibling. I recently read a book regarding someone's addiction. Do we need so many tell-all books on addiction? I think we do. Addiction is SO misunderstood!!! Even by me...still. Am I an addict? No, not really. I just marry them.
The first time around, I was young. Very young. Using & abusing drugs and alcohol. Not addicted though, just bored. I met this guy & we used together. I think we were both "damaged goods" before we met. There was a mutual attraction and we had music and our use of substances in common. The difference is, I got bored early on and decided to quit. That was the end of it for me. I'd spent the better parts of 1983 - the early part of 1988 high or drunk or a combination of the two. Then one night, I looked around at the two of us, plus a friend or two, on (what I recall) our second 8-ball of coke and said, "I quit". And I did just that.
Months later, I became pregnant. I decided to keep it. I was clean, he wasn't. Why would anyone in their right mind decide to raise a child with someone who regularly abused substances? I have no answer for that aside from the "damaged goods" thing. Mind you, I have always been considered an intelligent person. Straight As in school, accepted into one of the country's finest institutions for higher learning (which I fucked up due to the drugs, etc).
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)