I'm getting there, little by little. I had my 3rd visit with the EAP therapist yesterday. We finally went beyond her discussing different resources that I might use, and did some actual therapy. It was good. Hard, but good. She brought up the difference between "what if" and "what is." Constantly, in regards to DH, I'm thinking about "what if xx" or "when xx happens." She really encouraged me to focus on what IS right now, instead of "fortune telling" that always leaves me an anxious ball of nerves and guilt.
I made the call to the attorney, letting him know we're ready to move forward with mediation. Today, I scheduled our first meeting, which will be March 9. That's so soon. But, if I don't keep moving forward, I will stop moving.
We sold some stuff in our portfolio, and I'll write DH a check tonight, hopefully carrying him through several months of living expenses.
Most importantly, and my BIGGEST stress right now is child care. My parents were there all day yesterday. Today, one of my sitters was there this morning and D was supposed to "relieve" her about 12:15. He got there at 11:30 (!!), and will be there until I get home. We'll see what that holds. My friends have been helping me network, trying to find more consistant care than just "piecing" a schedule together, using several different students.
On FB last night, I saw this post "Anyone have a nanny/babysitter that could start ASAP? I have a friend in desperate need of a sweet , kind, helpful person to help her with her 3 kids and no husband." How pathetic that I didn't realize it was about me, at first! This is a friend of a friend, who apparently I am FB friends with. Regardless, she came up with a great lead for a part time nanny. I spoke with that woman this morning, and the plan is for her to come over tomorrow evening and meet the babies, see our routine, etc. I was excited about that, but once I was off the phone with her, I found a note from one of my work friends. His wife has offered to care for all THREE babies on Thursdays and Fridays, for $100 a MONTH. You.have.got.to.be.kidding.me. OMG I told him I thought there was an error on his note and he said "nope, no error." OMG. I really can't pass this up. The icing on the cake is that she has cared for several colleagues/friends children in the past, and she is RAVED about. Plus, she has a little girl just a few months older than S. Plus, she's only about 2 miles from my office.
So, that would take care of Wed (my parents), and Thursdays and Friday.
Tonight, I need to have a convo with him about what HIS thoughts are about child care. He at least needs to FEEL like he has a say (even if he really doesn't). I told him to think about what he wants to do/contribute and what he feels he CAN contribute. I do NOT want to take his kids away, that is not my goal in this at ALL. He needs them as much as they need a father. But, they don't need a drunk father.
Thursday, February 28, 2013
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
Normalization
What I'm about to write about has been circling in my head like a tornado most nights over the past several weeks. My sleep is so poor, and it's usually thinking about the events below that causes the insomnia.
Also, D's cousin has been a huge emotional support to me through this (at least the pieces she is aware of) and told me today, after I told her about the apartment fiasco from November, that I've normalized this entire situation so much that I can't see just how crazy it is.
So, this is meant to get OUT of my brain, hoping it will calm a bit, but also meant as a WTF am/was I thinking, any time I waiver about getting out of the relationship.
This is a quick top 10 of lovely memories I have of him drinking. Keep in mind that he wasn't diagnosed with bi-polar until 1.5 years ago. Prior to that, *some* of these events may have been exacerbated by mania. Regardless, they all happened when drinking. No particular order of severity, but I will try my best to put them in chronological order.
1) We'd been living together for about a year when I came home to our apartment, the door was open and he was no where to be found. Long story short, he'd drank a bottle of vodka, and decided to catch a flight to Florida, where he holed up in a motel room for several days. After much detective work, I found him, and he came home a few days later. No real explanation.
2) He fell, drunk, in the shower one night. Broke a couple of his toes, I think. He was so drunk I had to pull him out.
3) I was out of town for work. I called his work to talk with him. His boss said he hadn't shown up. I flipped out. Another long story short, he'd gone on a binge while I was out of town, and failed to show up for work. Somehow, he kept that job.
4) Repeat of #3 above, but he lost that job. The incidents were within a year of each other.
5) I've bailed him out of jail 3 times, twice for DUIs and once for battery/bar fight.
6) About 7 years ago, I (thought) I'd had enough. Had made plans to take him to a 30 day inpatient facility about 3 hours away. It was the only inpatient our insurance would approve at the time. The plan was for me to work all day, return home to pick him up and then drive him to the rehab. I went home at lunchtime to make sure he was still on board. Dear lord, my fingers are shaking now as I type this. I found him passed out on the couch, arm hanging down, blood everywhere. It was already starting to coagulate. I called 911 and told them my husband had tried to commit suicide. They asked me if he was still breathing (how in the hell was I even HAVING this convo??). Yes, he was still breathing. I waited. I looked around. Our dining room floor was covered with blood. I found our dog, scared to death on our bed. I walked into the kitchen. The scene of the crime. He had taken a cutting board, sharpened a butcher knife (the knife sharpener was still sitting there), and tried to cut his arm off. The injury was about mid-way up his forearm.
I know my husband. This wasn't neccesarily a suicide attempt, but more of an avoidant passive aggressive "I'm not going to treatment and you can't make me" behavior. Regardless, I can STILL hear the sirens as they got closer to our condo. Can remember cleaning up the blood after they had taken him to the ER.
My parents offered to pay for a divorce at this point. They had no idea of the alcohol issue, just thought he was "crazy." At the time, I thought they were cold and heartless.
7) It was finally to the point where I didn't trust him to drive. I would take him to work/pick him up from work. He called me one night from a bar, down the block from the restaurant where he worked. He was f'd up. Could hardly talk. I went to pick him up. Had to almost carry him out of the bar. I finally get him in the car, and home, and was not sure how he was going to get up 3 flights of stairs. He fell backward in our parking lot. Smashed a gash in his head. Blood everywhere (again). I ran upstairs to get a towel. I honestly can't remember how I got him into our condo. Superhuman strength? He bled through so many towels that night. It finally stopped.
8) His mom died when our babies were 6 weeks old. About 6 weeks after her death, he went to Florida (again). Didn't tell me. The only way I found out was b/c an airline reservation e-mail was sent to our joint e-mail account. He was gone for several days, leaving me alone to take care of twins that weren't even 3 months old, plus a daughter that was not yet 2. He came home set on not drinking again. But he started less than a week later. ***This is the story I told my mom this weekend, b/c she brought up the "remember when he disappeared to Florida not long after you met?" Yes mom, I remember, and guess what, he did it again leaving me with a toddler and two newborns. She had no idea.
9) Also after his mom died, in a drunken (and Ambien) stupor, he fell down a full flight of our stairs, to the basement. He passed out there until the next morning. I thought that fall might have killed him. Nothing broken. God help me, I WANTED there to be something broken. He deserved it.
10) After we moved to our house, he was spending alot of time downstairs in our finished basement. He took a meal down one night, complete with a steak knife. Apparently, the knife slipped and gashed his hand. He woke me up, maybe about midnight, to let me know he couldn't stop the bleeding and had called 911. They took him away in the ambulance. he came back the next day, all stitched up.
He left blood all over our basement floor. There was blood all over the kitchen, and down the hallway to our bedroom. I had to clean it up, 7 months pregnant with twins (supposed to be on bedrest), before my toddler woke up to discover her father's blood all over the floor.
Ok, there are my ten, and I didn't really have to think hard about them. If you are reading this you HAVE to be thinking WHAT THE FUCK IS SHE THINKING????? This would be any normal persons response. You just get so caught UP in it. The illness, the taking care of, that at the time, it seems unfortunate, scary even, but somewhat normal. It wasn't until his cousin pointed out today that he is a FELON (drunk driving and breaking and entering) that it really hit me.
ps. I just thought of #11, and it NEEDS to be here in black/white for me to remember. He really spiralled downhill after our first daughter was born. The change of bringing a newborn home was clearly to much for him. He was drinking all the time. His mother, ever the enabler, would BRING him bottles of wine. One night, he was holding S and it was her bedtime. He wouldn't give her to me. He said "she's mine." I played the innocent wife card, just trying to get her to safety. Yes, I know she's yours and she's so pretty, but it's time for her to go to bed. He.wouldn't.give.her.to.me. I was hysterical, almost shrieking. He wasn't trying to hurt her at all, but couldn't see the danger he was inadvertently putting her in. I finally just started clawing at him. Fingernail marks up and down his arms. I finally got her. NOW WHAT IN THE HELL DO I DO? I was too scared to stay there. I called his mom, told her I needed to stay with her, packed up baby and left. I finally returned home later the next night. The only thing I can remember is him being so angry that I'd gone to his mom's house, "HIS family."
It's interesting, now that I'm reading these. Something just occured to me. These are clearly the most significant (at least to me, and I would assume to DH as well) events that occured from drinking. There are 2 friends that know about all of these. Wait, scratch that. NO ONE knows about #11. I think I tried to block it out myself. My point is, my two friends (also social workers like me) have talked over the years about what his bottom IS. You always here that in order for recovery to work, you have to hit bottom. Any ONE of these could have been someone's bottom, but not him. I kept thinking it can't get worse, but then it did.
What I just realized is how much I chose to accept/take before *I* hit bottom and am demanding a change.
pps. AND I just remember one more..our "babymoon" prior to our twins being born..we went to Florida. I wanted the beach one last time. He, of course, was drunk most of it. The key incident this time was the call I got about 1 am from hotel security. He was incoherant at the beach bar. They wanted me to come get him. I was 5 months pregnant. I threw on some shoes, went to "claim" him and begged for someone to help me get him to the room. Luckily, I was starting to look pregnant, so it didn't take too much begging. But, it took TWO very large bouncers to get him to our room, and THEy almost couldn't do it.
Also, D's cousin has been a huge emotional support to me through this (at least the pieces she is aware of) and told me today, after I told her about the apartment fiasco from November, that I've normalized this entire situation so much that I can't see just how crazy it is.
So, this is meant to get OUT of my brain, hoping it will calm a bit, but also meant as a WTF am/was I thinking, any time I waiver about getting out of the relationship.
This is a quick top 10 of lovely memories I have of him drinking. Keep in mind that he wasn't diagnosed with bi-polar until 1.5 years ago. Prior to that, *some* of these events may have been exacerbated by mania. Regardless, they all happened when drinking. No particular order of severity, but I will try my best to put them in chronological order.
1) We'd been living together for about a year when I came home to our apartment, the door was open and he was no where to be found. Long story short, he'd drank a bottle of vodka, and decided to catch a flight to Florida, where he holed up in a motel room for several days. After much detective work, I found him, and he came home a few days later. No real explanation.
2) He fell, drunk, in the shower one night. Broke a couple of his toes, I think. He was so drunk I had to pull him out.
3) I was out of town for work. I called his work to talk with him. His boss said he hadn't shown up. I flipped out. Another long story short, he'd gone on a binge while I was out of town, and failed to show up for work. Somehow, he kept that job.
4) Repeat of #3 above, but he lost that job. The incidents were within a year of each other.
5) I've bailed him out of jail 3 times, twice for DUIs and once for battery/bar fight.
6) About 7 years ago, I (thought) I'd had enough. Had made plans to take him to a 30 day inpatient facility about 3 hours away. It was the only inpatient our insurance would approve at the time. The plan was for me to work all day, return home to pick him up and then drive him to the rehab. I went home at lunchtime to make sure he was still on board. Dear lord, my fingers are shaking now as I type this. I found him passed out on the couch, arm hanging down, blood everywhere. It was already starting to coagulate. I called 911 and told them my husband had tried to commit suicide. They asked me if he was still breathing (how in the hell was I even HAVING this convo??). Yes, he was still breathing. I waited. I looked around. Our dining room floor was covered with blood. I found our dog, scared to death on our bed. I walked into the kitchen. The scene of the crime. He had taken a cutting board, sharpened a butcher knife (the knife sharpener was still sitting there), and tried to cut his arm off. The injury was about mid-way up his forearm.
I know my husband. This wasn't neccesarily a suicide attempt, but more of an avoidant passive aggressive "I'm not going to treatment and you can't make me" behavior. Regardless, I can STILL hear the sirens as they got closer to our condo. Can remember cleaning up the blood after they had taken him to the ER.
My parents offered to pay for a divorce at this point. They had no idea of the alcohol issue, just thought he was "crazy." At the time, I thought they were cold and heartless.
7) It was finally to the point where I didn't trust him to drive. I would take him to work/pick him up from work. He called me one night from a bar, down the block from the restaurant where he worked. He was f'd up. Could hardly talk. I went to pick him up. Had to almost carry him out of the bar. I finally get him in the car, and home, and was not sure how he was going to get up 3 flights of stairs. He fell backward in our parking lot. Smashed a gash in his head. Blood everywhere (again). I ran upstairs to get a towel. I honestly can't remember how I got him into our condo. Superhuman strength? He bled through so many towels that night. It finally stopped.
8) His mom died when our babies were 6 weeks old. About 6 weeks after her death, he went to Florida (again). Didn't tell me. The only way I found out was b/c an airline reservation e-mail was sent to our joint e-mail account. He was gone for several days, leaving me alone to take care of twins that weren't even 3 months old, plus a daughter that was not yet 2. He came home set on not drinking again. But he started less than a week later. ***This is the story I told my mom this weekend, b/c she brought up the "remember when he disappeared to Florida not long after you met?" Yes mom, I remember, and guess what, he did it again leaving me with a toddler and two newborns. She had no idea.
9) Also after his mom died, in a drunken (and Ambien) stupor, he fell down a full flight of our stairs, to the basement. He passed out there until the next morning. I thought that fall might have killed him. Nothing broken. God help me, I WANTED there to be something broken. He deserved it.
10) After we moved to our house, he was spending alot of time downstairs in our finished basement. He took a meal down one night, complete with a steak knife. Apparently, the knife slipped and gashed his hand. He woke me up, maybe about midnight, to let me know he couldn't stop the bleeding and had called 911. They took him away in the ambulance. he came back the next day, all stitched up.
He left blood all over our basement floor. There was blood all over the kitchen, and down the hallway to our bedroom. I had to clean it up, 7 months pregnant with twins (supposed to be on bedrest), before my toddler woke up to discover her father's blood all over the floor.
Ok, there are my ten, and I didn't really have to think hard about them. If you are reading this you HAVE to be thinking WHAT THE FUCK IS SHE THINKING????? This would be any normal persons response. You just get so caught UP in it. The illness, the taking care of, that at the time, it seems unfortunate, scary even, but somewhat normal. It wasn't until his cousin pointed out today that he is a FELON (drunk driving and breaking and entering) that it really hit me.
ps. I just thought of #11, and it NEEDS to be here in black/white for me to remember. He really spiralled downhill after our first daughter was born. The change of bringing a newborn home was clearly to much for him. He was drinking all the time. His mother, ever the enabler, would BRING him bottles of wine. One night, he was holding S and it was her bedtime. He wouldn't give her to me. He said "she's mine." I played the innocent wife card, just trying to get her to safety. Yes, I know she's yours and she's so pretty, but it's time for her to go to bed. He.wouldn't.give.her.to.me. I was hysterical, almost shrieking. He wasn't trying to hurt her at all, but couldn't see the danger he was inadvertently putting her in. I finally just started clawing at him. Fingernail marks up and down his arms. I finally got her. NOW WHAT IN THE HELL DO I DO? I was too scared to stay there. I called his mom, told her I needed to stay with her, packed up baby and left. I finally returned home later the next night. The only thing I can remember is him being so angry that I'd gone to his mom's house, "HIS family."
It's interesting, now that I'm reading these. Something just occured to me. These are clearly the most significant (at least to me, and I would assume to DH as well) events that occured from drinking. There are 2 friends that know about all of these. Wait, scratch that. NO ONE knows about #11. I think I tried to block it out myself. My point is, my two friends (also social workers like me) have talked over the years about what his bottom IS. You always here that in order for recovery to work, you have to hit bottom. Any ONE of these could have been someone's bottom, but not him. I kept thinking it can't get worse, but then it did.
What I just realized is how much I chose to accept/take before *I* hit bottom and am demanding a change.
pps. AND I just remember one more..our "babymoon" prior to our twins being born..we went to Florida. I wanted the beach one last time. He, of course, was drunk most of it. The key incident this time was the call I got about 1 am from hotel security. He was incoherant at the beach bar. They wanted me to come get him. I was 5 months pregnant. I threw on some shoes, went to "claim" him and begged for someone to help me get him to the room. Luckily, I was starting to look pregnant, so it didn't take too much begging. But, it took TWO very large bouncers to get him to our room, and THEy almost couldn't do it.
Monday, February 25, 2013
focused
Maybe it's partly mostly coffee, but I'm feeling pretty focused today. Good thing, because I have a crap-ton of deadlines this week at work.
Also, D is part of my ability to focus. His true colors are coming out again, and that makes it easier for me to keep pushing through. He's still at home. We had nasty weather here late last week so that caused a bit of delay. I was fine with it, knowing that a plan (and a lease!) had been set. Saturday morning he didn't get up until at least 10:30. Same with Sunday. That doesn't sound all that late, but considering the babies get up between 7 and 7:30, that's quite awhile without help. He would get up, and then go back to sleep. Saturday, I gave him the benefit of the doubt, but only AFTER talking with him when he woke. He said he was having a hard time getting going. I'm worried his depression meds might need to be upped to get over this next hurdle. he seems pretty ambilent about everything. He mentioned he has no family left. What I wanted to scream was "THAT'S YOUR FAULT!" but I didn't.
Sunday AM, it was pure alcohol that was keeping him on the couch, sleeping the morning away. S asked "why is daddy still sleeping." UGH. This is the reason he needs to get out. Even his passive behavior is being noticed.
I'm just done. The glassy eyes, the change in the tone of his voice, the smell, the sounds. He is always amazed at my ability to know when he's been drinking. The rest of the world could be oblivious, but 5 seconds on the phone with him and I know. His speech changes, not slurred, but more relaxed. His voice is a bit higher, softer. He calls S sweetie when he's been drinking. I had to get close to him on Saturday night, and the smell that I've been avoiding almost nauseated me. Part him, but mostly alcohol just SEEPING from his pores. It's the smell that permeates the room of wherever he is sleeping. Last night, I was in bed and heard what I hope is one of the last times I will HEAR evidence of his drinking. The ice cubes hitting the glass (because we all put ice cubes in cheap wine to make it more palletable right?, the wine pouring, the clink of the bottle when it hits the trashcan.
He woke this morning and there was still wine in his cup. I didn't bother to throw it out, as I once would have. I assume he drank it. Yes, at 7:30 in the morning, because why not? He left early to meet the cable guy at his apartment by 8. As he was leaving I told him not to forget his laptop. He looked at me like I had 5 heads and I reminded him that the cable guy would also take care of the internet. Although not drunk, he was NOT connecting the dots. In all fairness, I take care of all the bills/logistics with our house. This is new territory for him, but dude needs to learn, and think ahead.
I am loving this song right now, although the lyrics don't exactly match the situation. Part of it is for my babies (I'm gonna make this house your home), but most of it is for me (don't pay no mind to the demons, they fill you with fear). The demons that come to mind for me is actually fear of the unknown. Is this right? Am I doing the right thing? Am I putting him in harms way by leaving the relationship?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HoRkntoHkIE
Also, D is part of my ability to focus. His true colors are coming out again, and that makes it easier for me to keep pushing through. He's still at home. We had nasty weather here late last week so that caused a bit of delay. I was fine with it, knowing that a plan (and a lease!) had been set. Saturday morning he didn't get up until at least 10:30. Same with Sunday. That doesn't sound all that late, but considering the babies get up between 7 and 7:30, that's quite awhile without help. He would get up, and then go back to sleep. Saturday, I gave him the benefit of the doubt, but only AFTER talking with him when he woke. He said he was having a hard time getting going. I'm worried his depression meds might need to be upped to get over this next hurdle. he seems pretty ambilent about everything. He mentioned he has no family left. What I wanted to scream was "THAT'S YOUR FAULT!" but I didn't.
Sunday AM, it was pure alcohol that was keeping him on the couch, sleeping the morning away. S asked "why is daddy still sleeping." UGH. This is the reason he needs to get out. Even his passive behavior is being noticed.
I'm just done. The glassy eyes, the change in the tone of his voice, the smell, the sounds. He is always amazed at my ability to know when he's been drinking. The rest of the world could be oblivious, but 5 seconds on the phone with him and I know. His speech changes, not slurred, but more relaxed. His voice is a bit higher, softer. He calls S sweetie when he's been drinking. I had to get close to him on Saturday night, and the smell that I've been avoiding almost nauseated me. Part him, but mostly alcohol just SEEPING from his pores. It's the smell that permeates the room of wherever he is sleeping. Last night, I was in bed and heard what I hope is one of the last times I will HEAR evidence of his drinking. The ice cubes hitting the glass (because we all put ice cubes in cheap wine to make it more palletable right?, the wine pouring, the clink of the bottle when it hits the trashcan.
He woke this morning and there was still wine in his cup. I didn't bother to throw it out, as I once would have. I assume he drank it. Yes, at 7:30 in the morning, because why not? He left early to meet the cable guy at his apartment by 8. As he was leaving I told him not to forget his laptop. He looked at me like I had 5 heads and I reminded him that the cable guy would also take care of the internet. Although not drunk, he was NOT connecting the dots. In all fairness, I take care of all the bills/logistics with our house. This is new territory for him, but dude needs to learn, and think ahead.
I am loving this song right now, although the lyrics don't exactly match the situation. Part of it is for my babies (I'm gonna make this house your home), but most of it is for me (don't pay no mind to the demons, they fill you with fear). The demons that come to mind for me is actually fear of the unknown. Is this right? Am I doing the right thing? Am I putting him in harms way by leaving the relationship?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HoRkntoHkIE
Sunday, February 24, 2013
more parental conversations
I should have known. My mom called me yesterday, offering my dad's help for Dan to move. Really nice, I know. Then we started talking. She told me how sad she was and thought maybe I had changed my mind. I kept telling her how sad I am too, but that she doesn't know all the details. I assured her if she DID, she would not be as sad as she is. I told her that I understand that she is sad, but that I didn't need to know about it, because it's all I can do to hold it together. That seemed to quiet her a bi, but then she started again. NOT trying to get me to change my mind, just talking about how D is her family too. I get that, I do. I finally had to drop one of the many stories on her. I'll write about it here soon. The story I told could have happened without any alcohol, so it felt a safe one to tell. She was shocked. I then told her that I'm not trying to turn her against him in any way, but that she needs to know what I've been up against (and am trying to get out of). She asked if I thought he "would be ok." I told her honestly that I didn't know, and that I am very worried, especially after he is no longer on my insurance. I told her it's not my job to save him. I told her that I fear getting a call from the cops, similar to the call he received the morning they found his mom's body in her apartment. She said "I do too S. I do too. I was just thinking about that earlier."
This isn't the last of the convo's with her, I'm sure. I'll tell her eventually. I just have no desire to muddy his name. I already feel horrible enough knowing that I've told others.
This isn't the last of the convo's with her, I'm sure. I'll tell her eventually. I just have no desire to muddy his name. I already feel horrible enough knowing that I've told others.
Friday, February 22, 2013
This is hard
Writing from my iPad, in bed. D is on his way to pick up keys. Sitter is with kids in the other room. I can't get out of bed. Thought it was just exhaustion, but I feel some depression seeping in also.
We had another good convo this morning. He told me this all is like a punch in his
gut. It's obvious he doesn't WANT this to be happening, but he's not strong enough to fight it.
To fight those demons.
I had to FIGHT with myself to not beg him to stay. Dear god, it almost came out. But, this has to be right. Has to be. Must think of my babies. Must think of MY future. He is not willing to stop.
We had another good convo this morning. He told me this all is like a punch in his
gut. It's obvious he doesn't WANT this to be happening, but he's not strong enough to fight it.
To fight those demons.
I had to FIGHT with myself to not beg him to stay. Dear god, it almost came out. But, this has to be right. Has to be. Must think of my babies. Must think of MY future. He is not willing to stop.
Thursday, February 21, 2013
Money Orders
I'm leaving work early to get D money orders so he can move in tomorrow. Still.so.surreal. But, I'm pretty ok with it. When I got home last night, we talked about money and childcare and, like a few weeks ago, after we had that convo, things were good. We made comfortable small talk, and it was nice. It's just so odd that having conversations like that actually make us feel BETTER and more comfortable around each other. Sad. But that tells me that this is right.
He did say something that infuriated me this morning. He got home (after a flat tire!), as I was getting my things together to leave and take C to the dr. He said "there's got to be more to life than changing diapers and typing in zip codes from rural Missouri." That last part was a reference to the 8-10 hours a WEEK that he actually earns a paycheck.
I just want to shake him. He's SO passive agressive, SO blaming of others, he CANNOT take responsibility for his life/his own actions. He really thinks that "life just happens" and he has no control over it. In all fairness, he has always been like this, and the further we've gotten to where we are now, the more it's bothered me.
Last night before he left, he said "the hotel is lonely. They are no babies, not a dog..." I said "the apartment will be lonely too." His replied that since he's taking Sierra (dog) with him, he won't be lonely. Um, ok, whatever.
We agreed that he would stay at home tonight, and possibly tomorrow night depending on what happens with the apartment tomorrow. I'm fine with it. Now that we have things worked out, and there's a plan, it seems silly to waste the money on a hotel.
Speaking of $$, we just approved a HUGE chunk of money to be withdrawn from our financial portfolio. We will split it, and use it over the next 6 months. D will pay rent/living expenses (and alcohol, of course), and I will pay for child care. That seems fair:-/
He did say something that infuriated me this morning. He got home (after a flat tire!), as I was getting my things together to leave and take C to the dr. He said "there's got to be more to life than changing diapers and typing in zip codes from rural Missouri." That last part was a reference to the 8-10 hours a WEEK that he actually earns a paycheck.
I just want to shake him. He's SO passive agressive, SO blaming of others, he CANNOT take responsibility for his life/his own actions. He really thinks that "life just happens" and he has no control over it. In all fairness, he has always been like this, and the further we've gotten to where we are now, the more it's bothered me.
Last night before he left, he said "the hotel is lonely. They are no babies, not a dog..." I said "the apartment will be lonely too." His replied that since he's taking Sierra (dog) with him, he won't be lonely. Um, ok, whatever.
We agreed that he would stay at home tonight, and possibly tomorrow night depending on what happens with the apartment tomorrow. I'm fine with it. Now that we have things worked out, and there's a plan, it seems silly to waste the money on a hotel.
Speaking of $$, we just approved a HUGE chunk of money to be withdrawn from our financial portfolio. We will split it, and use it over the next 6 months. D will pay rent/living expenses (and alcohol, of course), and I will pay for child care. That seems fair:-/
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
Told my parents
Oh.my.gawwwddddd I have been dreading it. Putting it off as long as I possibly could. But, D called me a bit ago and told me he got the apartment and that he moves in Friday. He was rational. Logical. Ready to move forward.
As the classic co-dependent, I asked him ONE last time if this is really what he wanted. He got a bit snippy with me, asking if I thought he was just wasting his time the last several day with the apartment search. Then, he had the nerve to make a comment, something like, maybe one day...people get re-married, blah blah, but I have to deal with my stuff right now. You do not want to know what is going on in my brain.
Agreed. But, what I heard was I need to take this time to drink my bloody head off, and when I'm done, if I am not dead first, we'll talk about reconciliation.
Maybe it's overdramatic, but that was my interpretation.
So, called my mom. It felt like a good time. I wasn't feeling too *anything.* We made small talk. I could tell she was ending the convo and said "so you want to hear my drama?" "What?" "D's moving out." "NO." "Yes."
Once it was out there, it was ok. I told her she shouldn't be shocked. She wasn't, but WAS sad. And then we got disconnected. You have got to be kidding me! She was in the car with my dad so I'm sure they were gossiping a mile a minute until they got back within cell reception. They were in KENTUCKY buying a furnace! My life is just weird!
Anyhoo, she called back. Asked some questions. She asked if I "have someone else." I just laughed. Seriously?! I barely have time to shower most days. I assured her that neither of us had anyone on the side, lol. I told her I wasn't comfortable sharing details yet, but she could be assured that I'd thought long and hard, researched, did my homework and this was the best decision. She asked if M (BIL) knows. I said yes, and told her the specifics of that (how the apt people contacted him for income check). She asked what he thought. I carefully told her he was very angry at D (again, telling her I wasn't going to give her details---she didn't want them anyway). She will though, eventually:)
She asked if D would help support the babies financially. I told her if it came to divorce, he's agreed to give me 1/2 the money. She was relieved at that. Again, I told her my bases are covered, this was not a rash decision, etc. I think my (perceived) rationality was both relieving, and very strange to her.
So, cat's most definately out of the bag. Telling them was the biggie. Please tell me it's all downhill from here...
As the classic co-dependent, I asked him ONE last time if this is really what he wanted. He got a bit snippy with me, asking if I thought he was just wasting his time the last several day with the apartment search. Then, he had the nerve to make a comment, something like, maybe one day...people get re-married, blah blah, but I have to deal with my stuff right now. You do not want to know what is going on in my brain.
Agreed. But, what I heard was I need to take this time to drink my bloody head off, and when I'm done, if I am not dead first, we'll talk about reconciliation.
Maybe it's overdramatic, but that was my interpretation.
So, called my mom. It felt like a good time. I wasn't feeling too *anything.* We made small talk. I could tell she was ending the convo and said "so you want to hear my drama?" "What?" "D's moving out." "NO." "Yes."
Once it was out there, it was ok. I told her she shouldn't be shocked. She wasn't, but WAS sad. And then we got disconnected. You have got to be kidding me! She was in the car with my dad so I'm sure they were gossiping a mile a minute until they got back within cell reception. They were in KENTUCKY buying a furnace! My life is just weird!
Anyhoo, she called back. Asked some questions. She asked if I "have someone else." I just laughed. Seriously?! I barely have time to shower most days. I assured her that neither of us had anyone on the side, lol. I told her I wasn't comfortable sharing details yet, but she could be assured that I'd thought long and hard, researched, did my homework and this was the best decision. She asked if M (BIL) knows. I said yes, and told her the specifics of that (how the apt people contacted him for income check). She asked what he thought. I carefully told her he was very angry at D (again, telling her I wasn't going to give her details---she didn't want them anyway). She will though, eventually:)
She asked if D would help support the babies financially. I told her if it came to divorce, he's agreed to give me 1/2 the money. She was relieved at that. Again, I told her my bases are covered, this was not a rash decision, etc. I think my (perceived) rationality was both relieving, and very strange to her.
So, cat's most definately out of the bag. Telling them was the biggie. Please tell me it's all downhill from here...
Vacillation
Ugh. Ugh. UGH.Yesterday went off without a hitch, after my near heart-attack anxiety issues. He showed at 11. I ran home to pick up the sitter and take her home, b/c there was no point in her being there. He looked better than the day before, but still very anxious, sweaty.
Late in the afternoon I called him to find out the status of the apt application. He said "I don't know what I'm going to do." Really? REALLY! NONE of this is in your hands? You have NO control over this situation? I was floored. I called the complex for him, to see if he was even telling the truth. His "agent" was out yesterday and is supposed to touch base with him today.
I get home and he at least had babies in their high chair at the appropriate time. Two days ago, I got home at almost 5:30 and they hadn't eaten yet. "I didn't even think about it." Really? What in the hell ARE you thinking about? Anyway, I was helping S do something and I heard Dan yell (well, it was 1/2 yell/ 1/2 frustration), "what do you babies WANT?" They were still in their high chairs. He was very clearly frustrated. I asked him what the problem was.
He said "well your life might not be changing, but mine sure is." Really? I was just floored. "You did that to yourself." "I haven't changed in 14 years." (This is a regular argument from him, I wasn't even going to get into it). "Maybe you haven't, but the situation has, and there are 3 little people to protect." End convo. Of course, 2 minutes later I think REALLY? I'M GOING TO BE A 39 YEAR OLD SINGLE FULL TIME MOM TO THREE KIDS UNDER THREE AND MY LIFE ISN'T CHANGING?!
I stewed about that all night. He arrived at 8:30 this morning. Before I left, I told him I needed to respond to his comment from last night, and pretty much repeated what I just wrote above. His response? "Feel better?" You jackass. Didn't say it. I'm better than that.
But, how is it possible to go from guilt, to sadness to intense ANGER so quickly? If I could just pick an emotion to stick with for awhile...Before I left work yesterday the guilt was intense. He will not have health insurance. No way to get meds, see a doctor. An hour later, I was just looking at him in disbelief that he is so delusional to think that this is not affecting me.
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
My sleep is for shit. I'm getting about 5 hours, and then waking up at 3 am and not able to fall back to sleep. Not going for work, or for being the sole provider of 3 little ones AFTER working a full day.
Late in the afternoon I called him to find out the status of the apt application. He said "I don't know what I'm going to do." Really? REALLY! NONE of this is in your hands? You have NO control over this situation? I was floored. I called the complex for him, to see if he was even telling the truth. His "agent" was out yesterday and is supposed to touch base with him today.
I get home and he at least had babies in their high chair at the appropriate time. Two days ago, I got home at almost 5:30 and they hadn't eaten yet. "I didn't even think about it." Really? What in the hell ARE you thinking about? Anyway, I was helping S do something and I heard Dan yell (well, it was 1/2 yell/ 1/2 frustration), "what do you babies WANT?" They were still in their high chairs. He was very clearly frustrated. I asked him what the problem was.
He said "well your life might not be changing, but mine sure is." Really? I was just floored. "You did that to yourself." "I haven't changed in 14 years." (This is a regular argument from him, I wasn't even going to get into it). "Maybe you haven't, but the situation has, and there are 3 little people to protect." End convo. Of course, 2 minutes later I think REALLY? I'M GOING TO BE A 39 YEAR OLD SINGLE FULL TIME MOM TO THREE KIDS UNDER THREE AND MY LIFE ISN'T CHANGING?!
I stewed about that all night. He arrived at 8:30 this morning. Before I left, I told him I needed to respond to his comment from last night, and pretty much repeated what I just wrote above. His response? "Feel better?" You jackass. Didn't say it. I'm better than that.
But, how is it possible to go from guilt, to sadness to intense ANGER so quickly? If I could just pick an emotion to stick with for awhile...Before I left work yesterday the guilt was intense. He will not have health insurance. No way to get meds, see a doctor. An hour later, I was just looking at him in disbelief that he is so delusional to think that this is not affecting me.
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
My sleep is for shit. I'm getting about 5 hours, and then waking up at 3 am and not able to fall back to sleep. Not going for work, or for being the sole provider of 3 little ones AFTER working a full day.
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
Anxiety
Ugh. I've been sitting here for the past 30 minutes, just FEELING the anxiety rising in me. My heart is beating faster, my thoughts are spinning in my head, I'm getting a bit shaky. Why? Why now? What's going on? I'm just sitting at work being quite productive. And then I realize...
When I last talked to D last night, he said he would be at our house at 11 am. It's now 10:45, meaning the time is close to finding out whether or not he WILL show up. I tend to think he will, but clearly my brain is not so certain. We have a sitter this morning, and she CAN stay all day if need be. I've been on and off Face.book every few minutes to see if he is "on." That will at least tell me if he's awake. So far, no sign of him there.
THis is what I hate. It's such a horrible horrible feeling to have my OWN feelings so desperately wrapped up in the behavior of someone else. If he has a bad day, *I* will have a bad day. If he's in a good mood, *I* will be in a good mood. That's not the way it should be.
This is also the anxiety I get when my parents come for their weekly visit with babies. Will he say/DO something stupid? Will he drink? Will he not? Will he be rude? Will he talk their head off. He's so unpredicable. My anxiety GREATLY reduces when I know my parents are safely out of the house. Another week gone by without my mom saying "Dan said something really mean today."
Ahhhh...it's 10:50 now, and I'd give anything to know where he is.
When I last talked to D last night, he said he would be at our house at 11 am. It's now 10:45, meaning the time is close to finding out whether or not he WILL show up. I tend to think he will, but clearly my brain is not so certain. We have a sitter this morning, and she CAN stay all day if need be. I've been on and off Face.book every few minutes to see if he is "on." That will at least tell me if he's awake. So far, no sign of him there.
THis is what I hate. It's such a horrible horrible feeling to have my OWN feelings so desperately wrapped up in the behavior of someone else. If he has a bad day, *I* will have a bad day. If he's in a good mood, *I* will be in a good mood. That's not the way it should be.
This is also the anxiety I get when my parents come for their weekly visit with babies. Will he say/DO something stupid? Will he drink? Will he not? Will he be rude? Will he talk their head off. He's so unpredicable. My anxiety GREATLY reduces when I know my parents are safely out of the house. Another week gone by without my mom saying "Dan said something really mean today."
Ahhhh...it's 10:50 now, and I'd give anything to know where he is.
Monday, February 18, 2013
The mediator
We met with the mediator this morning. I was in a rush to get there, could feel my anxiety building on the drive. I was sad and anxious, and a little calm all at the same time. How is that possible. I was just turning into the complex when D's brother called me. I debating on answering, and then thought WTH. He was calling to tell me what he found out about the final dispersement of money from my mother in laws trust, of which he is trustee. There is language in there that allows for discretion on the part of the trustee, if the intended person to get the money is not in a good state of mind. This made me feel better. The first question on the table is 1) would I have right to any of that money, once D moves out. The short answer is no. But, what BIL discovered is helpful, in that he has many options as to how it can be dispersed. For instance, he can split the last dispersement and put "my" half in separate trusts for the babies, or a college savings plan or something. For D's protection, he could choose to not disperse "his" half and just offer him an allowance. This would PISS D off, but it ultimately would be for his protection. Anyhoo, that was good food for that.
D was there already when I arrived. He looked like death. Truly, like death. He was shaking, and sweaty. Very par for the course for him, when he is in an anxiety inducing situation. But, his eyes told the whole story. Either he'd been sobbing uncontrollably for hours (quite possible), or he had a serious hangover (also quite possible). his eyes were puffy, very bloodshot. I felt for him.
The attorney was good. We both got a good vibe. We seemed to put off a vibe that he liked as well, so he thinks that we're candidates for mediation. It was really ackward at first, and I should have guessed we'd have to bare it all, but the first thing he wanted us to do was each give a brief version of why we were there. We just looked at each other, lol. He took that as us not wanting to interact. I finally said "no, it's not that at all. It's just that being honest is going to be difficult." I looked at D and he gave me the ok to continue. So, big breath "D is an alcoholic. He can't stop drinking. We have 3 small children that cannot continue to be exposed to that type of environment." And boom, it was out there...all down hill, lol. He asked a fair amount of questions about the drinking. We talked about finances, about working, about parenting. We made it clear to him that our kids are our main priority and we are both prepared to do whatever is possible to protect them.
We left it that we were going to talk about it, and if we decided to move forward we just need to call to set up our first meeting. It will be 4-6 two hours sessions, to get our "plans" nailed down, and then papers filed, and then that's it.
He did say that a contested divorce for us, in court, would not be pretty. The second either lawyer hears "alcoholic" a guardien ad litem would have to be assigned. It was just be SO complicated.
I was shocked to know that it could happen in just a few months. Sad. So so sad. I hate this so much. 10 years of marriage, 14 years together, disolved just like that.
As I mentioned in my previous posts, one of my MIL's go to phrases was "you can't un-ring a bell." Not a common phrase. She's the only one I've ever heard say that. Well, the attorney said it this morning. I just looked at him, in shock. Good, bad, indifferent. It felt like she was trying to tell me something. Keep trudging through??? Or stop now and figure out another solution??
We walked out together, like we would have been leaving any other appointment. Again, surreal. We both agreed we liked him, and could see ourselves moving forward with him. He gave us some good advice about money, so that's the next step I guess. We talked about childcare for this week. he made a comment about being "dad by day, hotel by night." He mentioned that he would leave when I get home, but that's not fair to S on the days that she goes to daycare. I told him he needed to spend some time with her, tool. He said then I may as well stay home and get out of the hotel. I said "you can't drink at home" and he said "I can't not drink." At least he's not lying this time.
D was there already when I arrived. He looked like death. Truly, like death. He was shaking, and sweaty. Very par for the course for him, when he is in an anxiety inducing situation. But, his eyes told the whole story. Either he'd been sobbing uncontrollably for hours (quite possible), or he had a serious hangover (also quite possible). his eyes were puffy, very bloodshot. I felt for him.
The attorney was good. We both got a good vibe. We seemed to put off a vibe that he liked as well, so he thinks that we're candidates for mediation. It was really ackward at first, and I should have guessed we'd have to bare it all, but the first thing he wanted us to do was each give a brief version of why we were there. We just looked at each other, lol. He took that as us not wanting to interact. I finally said "no, it's not that at all. It's just that being honest is going to be difficult." I looked at D and he gave me the ok to continue. So, big breath "D is an alcoholic. He can't stop drinking. We have 3 small children that cannot continue to be exposed to that type of environment." And boom, it was out there...all down hill, lol. He asked a fair amount of questions about the drinking. We talked about finances, about working, about parenting. We made it clear to him that our kids are our main priority and we are both prepared to do whatever is possible to protect them.
We left it that we were going to talk about it, and if we decided to move forward we just need to call to set up our first meeting. It will be 4-6 two hours sessions, to get our "plans" nailed down, and then papers filed, and then that's it.
He did say that a contested divorce for us, in court, would not be pretty. The second either lawyer hears "alcoholic" a guardien ad litem would have to be assigned. It was just be SO complicated.
I was shocked to know that it could happen in just a few months. Sad. So so sad. I hate this so much. 10 years of marriage, 14 years together, disolved just like that.
As I mentioned in my previous posts, one of my MIL's go to phrases was "you can't un-ring a bell." Not a common phrase. She's the only one I've ever heard say that. Well, the attorney said it this morning. I just looked at him, in shock. Good, bad, indifferent. It felt like she was trying to tell me something. Keep trudging through??? Or stop now and figure out another solution??
We walked out together, like we would have been leaving any other appointment. Again, surreal. We both agreed we liked him, and could see ourselves moving forward with him. He gave us some good advice about money, so that's the next step I guess. We talked about childcare for this week. he made a comment about being "dad by day, hotel by night." He mentioned that he would leave when I get home, but that's not fair to S on the days that she goes to daycare. I told him he needed to spend some time with her, tool. He said then I may as well stay home and get out of the hotel. I said "you can't drink at home" and he said "I can't not drink." At least he's not lying this time.
The weekend...
This was the first weekend with D out of the house, at least physically. I got home after stopping at the grocery to stock up for the weekend, b/c there was no way in hell I need the added stress of taking 3 toddlers grocery shopping! He was definately ready to go once I got there. Not rush out the door as soon as he saw my car, but close to it. I, however, lost it before he could leave. I was carrying in the groceries, trying desperately to avoid catching tiny little toes in the screen door. I was paying so much attention to the toes, that I didn't see C's sweet little fingers getting stuck. It was HORRIBLE. He was in shock. When we got his fingers free, there was an indention across his knuckles. I was just sick to my stomach. We gave him some ibuprofen and I held him while he cried. I started crying. Sobbing. Clearly, I was sobbing for more than the sweet little fingers I almost BROKE, but I needed it. D just sort of sat there looking at me. He kept looking at his fingers, giving me updates (the color's coming back, the line is gone, he can move them, etc). There was no real emotion in his voice, at least not for me. That wasn't lost on me.
He left. I got myself together, and went to the kitchen to get dinner for babies. Somehow, i have NO idea how, S and I started talking about her nana. Dear GOD someone was just AGAINST me in that short period of time. I honestly can't remember how it started, but I think she asked me "who is daddy's mommy." I looked at her. I took a breath. I said "daddy's mommy was Nana. She loved you very much. Do you remember her?" "Yes. Where is she?Is she at her house?" Oh, dear GOD do not want to have this convo. "No, baby, I don't think she's at her house." "She lives far away, doesn't she?" There was my out, lol. "Um, yes, she DOES live far away. And we can't see her anymore." And that was it. Phew. I really don't mind talking about my mother in law, I NEED to talk about her, but I just haven't been able to, at least in D's presence. And, now I am not in a good emotional place to discuss death with a 3 year old. Once all this is sorted out, I hope to find a picture or two (there aren't many) to add to our bookshelf.
One of the first things S did when she woke up on Saturday was to ask when daddy was coming. I had no idea if he *was* coming, although I assumed he would. I called about 11 and asked him if he was coming over. He said "am I supposed to come over?" I said "not if you don't want to, but S is asking. I don't know what to tell her." He got there about 4:30 and stayed for about 2 hours, interacting a bit with the babies, but mostly working on his laptop. He came back Sunday also, from about 12-3. The babies fell asleep at 1, and were still asleep when he left. I took advantage of him being there and took my own little nap. Sophie sat with him at the table and colored. It makes me sad that this is all the interaction he is giving, but maybe it's all he CAN give. I don't know. It has to be hard on him.
Sophie asked both of us where he is sleeping. He's still in a hotel. She has no clue what that is. We've told her he has a bed and a couch and a TV and a bathroom. We've never called it a house or home. But it's so interesting to me how her little brain is working to process things. When the babies woke from their naps yesterday she said "Babies, daddy went back to his house." i didn't correct her. I was more astonished than anything, at her ability to process this. She tends to get whiny at night. Interestingly, Saturday night she fell off a dining room chair, pure exhaustion. Had D been home, she would have been clinging to me for dear life. This time, she was clinging to me, but calling for D. "I want daddy." Broke my heart. I just kept telling her that I would always take care of her. She's such a little trooper.
I once again got out of having to tell my parents. I called my mom Sunday night, prepared to have the convo, but she informed me that she and my dad had been extremely sick the past 2 days. That turned into a convo about them not being able to help us this week. They typically help with babies one day a week. As long as they don't visit, they don't know what's happening, so I don't have to tell them. My mother in law always said "you can't un-ring a bell." That is SO true, but especially in this case. Once I tell my parents, there is no going back. it's a done deal. Yes, I know it should be a done deal regardless, but I am still secretly hoping that he gets out of this fog and comes to his senses.
He left. I got myself together, and went to the kitchen to get dinner for babies. Somehow, i have NO idea how, S and I started talking about her nana. Dear GOD someone was just AGAINST me in that short period of time. I honestly can't remember how it started, but I think she asked me "who is daddy's mommy." I looked at her. I took a breath. I said "daddy's mommy was Nana. She loved you very much. Do you remember her?" "Yes. Where is she?Is she at her house?" Oh, dear GOD do not want to have this convo. "No, baby, I don't think she's at her house." "She lives far away, doesn't she?" There was my out, lol. "Um, yes, she DOES live far away. And we can't see her anymore." And that was it. Phew. I really don't mind talking about my mother in law, I NEED to talk about her, but I just haven't been able to, at least in D's presence. And, now I am not in a good emotional place to discuss death with a 3 year old. Once all this is sorted out, I hope to find a picture or two (there aren't many) to add to our bookshelf.
One of the first things S did when she woke up on Saturday was to ask when daddy was coming. I had no idea if he *was* coming, although I assumed he would. I called about 11 and asked him if he was coming over. He said "am I supposed to come over?" I said "not if you don't want to, but S is asking. I don't know what to tell her." He got there about 4:30 and stayed for about 2 hours, interacting a bit with the babies, but mostly working on his laptop. He came back Sunday also, from about 12-3. The babies fell asleep at 1, and were still asleep when he left. I took advantage of him being there and took my own little nap. Sophie sat with him at the table and colored. It makes me sad that this is all the interaction he is giving, but maybe it's all he CAN give. I don't know. It has to be hard on him.
Sophie asked both of us where he is sleeping. He's still in a hotel. She has no clue what that is. We've told her he has a bed and a couch and a TV and a bathroom. We've never called it a house or home. But it's so interesting to me how her little brain is working to process things. When the babies woke from their naps yesterday she said "Babies, daddy went back to his house." i didn't correct her. I was more astonished than anything, at her ability to process this. She tends to get whiny at night. Interestingly, Saturday night she fell off a dining room chair, pure exhaustion. Had D been home, she would have been clinging to me for dear life. This time, she was clinging to me, but calling for D. "I want daddy." Broke my heart. I just kept telling her that I would always take care of her. She's such a little trooper.
I once again got out of having to tell my parents. I called my mom Sunday night, prepared to have the convo, but she informed me that she and my dad had been extremely sick the past 2 days. That turned into a convo about them not being able to help us this week. They typically help with babies one day a week. As long as they don't visit, they don't know what's happening, so I don't have to tell them. My mother in law always said "you can't un-ring a bell." That is SO true, but especially in this case. Once I tell my parents, there is no going back. it's a done deal. Yes, I know it should be a done deal regardless, but I am still secretly hoping that he gets out of this fog and comes to his senses.
Friday, February 15, 2013
feelings
After I found the receipt, I was ok for a bit. It was ok. It was clear I had made the right decision. I was protecting myself and my babies. And then I started looking at our pictures on the wall, on our bookshelves. With very few exceptions, they all conjured up memories of drinking. Even our wedding pictures. If those types of memories didn't come to mind, it was memories of his irritability at getting pictures taken. I know, alot of men are like that, but it was always so frustrating. "Picture day" made me anxious, lol, b/c I wasn't sure how long he could handle it before the irritability hit. This realization was sad. But again, validating.
And then, I started thinking about his mom. I feel like I'm letting her down. Before she died, it was the two of us against him (not neccessarily in a bad way), pushing through, rolling our eyes if he said/did something stupid, dealing with his anger together. She was not necessarily in denial of his issues, but at the same time didn't push him to do anything about it. I feel like she felt that that was my job, since I married him. In any event, I just had a really nasty ugly, doubled over cry while thinking about her last night. Thinking in my head how sorry I was for not being able to save her son. I want desperately to save him. I want him to let me save him. I want back the person I married, who I assure you was very different than the person I am currently married to. I'm just so so sad that I can't fix this. That I can't MAKE him better. As his brother told me yesterday "he loves the alcohol more."
More than me, more than his children, his itty bitty sweet precious little babies that will never know the wonderful father he has the potential to be.
But, the bottom line is he is not a wonderful father right now. He is a very sick father. I was lying in bed with S last night and it occured to me that he wasn't there, at the other end of the house. Its's funny, b/c for a bit I forgot that he was gone, and just thought he was drinking, watching TV elsewhere in the house. When I remembered he was gone, I realized that there wasn't much difference between him physically absent vs emotionally absent. I didn't miss him.
S asked me last night where daddy was sleeping. I told her I didn't exactly know, but that he had a bed and a couch and a TV. She seemed ok with that:) She said "I miss him. Do you miss daddy?" My first thought was no, I don't miss him (of course I didn't say that!), but then I realized yes, I DO miss him, but in a different way. I miss the way he used to be, the funny guy that he used to be. He could make me laugh like no other. The inside jokes we shared. The good times we had.
And then, I started thinking about his mom. I feel like I'm letting her down. Before she died, it was the two of us against him (not neccessarily in a bad way), pushing through, rolling our eyes if he said/did something stupid, dealing with his anger together. She was not necessarily in denial of his issues, but at the same time didn't push him to do anything about it. I feel like she felt that that was my job, since I married him. In any event, I just had a really nasty ugly, doubled over cry while thinking about her last night. Thinking in my head how sorry I was for not being able to save her son. I want desperately to save him. I want him to let me save him. I want back the person I married, who I assure you was very different than the person I am currently married to. I'm just so so sad that I can't fix this. That I can't MAKE him better. As his brother told me yesterday "he loves the alcohol more."
More than me, more than his children, his itty bitty sweet precious little babies that will never know the wonderful father he has the potential to be.
But, the bottom line is he is not a wonderful father right now. He is a very sick father. I was lying in bed with S last night and it occured to me that he wasn't there, at the other end of the house. Its's funny, b/c for a bit I forgot that he was gone, and just thought he was drinking, watching TV elsewhere in the house. When I remembered he was gone, I realized that there wasn't much difference between him physically absent vs emotionally absent. I didn't miss him.
S asked me last night where daddy was sleeping. I told her I didn't exactly know, but that he had a bed and a couch and a TV. She seemed ok with that:) She said "I miss him. Do you miss daddy?" My first thought was no, I don't miss him (of course I didn't say that!), but then I realized yes, I DO miss him, but in a different way. I miss the way he used to be, the funny guy that he used to be. He could make me laugh like no other. The inside jokes we shared. The good times we had.
Wed night/Thursday (the logistics)
Can I just say that a hell of a lot can happen in 2 days???
D never did call me to tell me how the apartment viewing went. I got home, a bundle of nerves, at 5:10. D was at the dining room table, on his laptop and babies were in their high chairs (normal). No sign of Sophie. I kissed babies on their foreheads, walked right past D, on my way to find S. She was...ASLEEP. At FIVE PM! I was livid.
As calmly as I could, I asked why she was still sleeping. He attempted to give a response, but his thoughts weren't logical. I said something like "you don't care how late she sleeps b/c you won't have to be up with her tonight until she falls asleep." He said "you need to shut the F up." I said "you need to get the hell out." And, he was up, grabbed his stuff and was on his way out.
I told him that I was considering calling 911 and reporting his liscence number as a drunk driver. He looked at me and said, *almost* a threat, "do you want me to STAY?" I just let him go. I agonized over that decision once he drove away. I kept thinking that he could encounter a car with a parent driving their child home from daycare, the way I do with S 3 days a week. But, I didn't call the cops. I suppose it was to protect him, but also, REALLY, I didn't need have the energy to deal with it, and it's possible outcome.
I was SO on edge. I locked all the doors and windows, closed the blinds and just waited for babies to go to bed. My adrenaline was pumping; I was jumping at every little thing. Even poor S, who was sitting at the table with me, jumped a little when there was a sound by our front door and said "ohhhh, that scared me." My poor sweet girl. In that moment, I remember thinking, I don't need this. This is ridiculous. I want my kids to feel safe in their home, but I ALSO need to feel safe in my home. I was prepared to call 911 if he tried to come home, but he didn't.
I had a ridiculously big deadline at work the next day, so I HAD to go. I didn't want to risk harm to anyone else by having them come stay with the babies, so after I dropped S at daycare, they came to work with me. I actually considered letting campus police know what was going on. I could just picture D arriving home, and not being able to get in (I have the only key). I got a thought in my head that he might drive to my work and make a scene.
Never a word from D. I finally left to go home about 11:45. As I was pulling on to our street, he happened to drive by. He was very clearly looking down the street to see if he saw my car. I got home. Took one baby inside. He pulled up as I was getting A out of the car. I did not acknowledge him, just took her inside and locked and chained the front door.
He knocked. I ignored him. He said "I need my meds." I said "you need to wait." I then proceeded to fix the babies lunch, and only after they had what they needed did I unlock the door.
He was sober. He came in and sat on the couch. I gave him a few minutes and then said "I thought you needed your meds." A conversation started. Mostly me telling him that he needed to go somewhere else, that I was scared of him, that i was done with the situation. That I had considered a restraining order. He said "that won't be necessary." I said "you were out of control last night. When you are sober, it might not be necessary but when you are drunk you are totally unpredicable." He agreed.
I told him I'd need money for childcare, about $2k for the twins alone. He said "I forgot to take my meds, went on a binge. I don't think that means i shouldn't be able to see my kids." REALLY? REALLY???!!! You make a choice, you deal with the consequence.
He was sweating. Shaking. God, it was bad. It was SO emotional. Thankfully, I had enough adrenaline pumping to keep moving forward. Not backing down. Dear LORD did I want to back down and give him one more chance. Just one more.
He got a suitcase, put some stuff in the car and was starting to leave. I said "where are you going?" He said "well, I can't be half kicked out can I?" I said "You need to wait until Sophie gets home so you can tell her something." "What am I supposed to tell her? That mommy's kicking me out? That I'm a drunk? "That I'm a failure as a father?"
It was so hard to hear him say those things. To know he was internalizing those things.
I said "don't you care walk out of here with out saying something to S. She deserves more than that." I told him that I've been talking with her about it, and she is prepared to hear that he might "not be sleeping here anymore."
He stayed. I went to lie down. I couldn't nap. I got up. We started talking again. He said he'd meet with the attorney with me on Monday. I asked about the apartment. He said it was tiny. He talked a bit more and said "I could be homeless." Maybe I'm dense, but I don't think he meant that in a manipulative way. I think he really thinks that is what he's worth right now. Nothing. I didn't comment except to say "you had somewhere to live." He said "if only I could just stop drinking." I had no response for that. I told him he is always welcome, so long as he's sober. I think that made him feel better. Less alone. I finally was able to get out the words "I don't think you're a bad person" and then I lost it. It is SO important to me that he know that. He's a good person, with a very serious problem. And I'm sorry for that. I am. But I can't let him bring me down anymore. I just can't. And I feel like I'm failing him.
As I was leaving to go pick up Sophie, babies were up from their nap. He was holding Avery and started crying. "I guess I really am mentally ill. To give all this up." I buried my face in C's neck and cried.
he asked me again what to tell S. He wanted to tell her he was sick. True, but, she's been sick enough in her life and has always gotten better. I don't know. It just didn't feel right to me. She can't grasp this idea of sickness yet. I told him again to say that he's going to sleep somewhere else. And that he loves her. And that he'll come to see her.
I left. Got stuck in traffic. Started thinking, Oh, why not just let him stay home until he gets an apartment. Why bother with a hotel. No, what are you thinking. Absolutely not. I kept going back to his comments about stopping his meds for a few days and that's when the binge started. But that's not right. The binge has lasted almost a week. That was well before he stopped his meds (or so he says). Then I think, these are new meds, maybe they aren't working as well. Maybe we need to try something else. The back and forth in my head was just ridulous.
On the way home with S, I told her that daddy hadn't slept in our house last night (she didn't even realize). She said "oh, did he go to a meeting?" heart.breaking. "I'm not sure baby, I just know he didn't sleep at our house. And, I don't think he's going to sleep at our house tonight. OK?" "OK."
He was ready to go when I got back home. He called S over and told her he was going to stay somewhere else tonight. And that he loved her. And that he'd come back and see her tomorrow. (I had already agreed that he could come back tomorrow (today), so long as he was sober.) She said "ok" and walked away with her lollipop. Very anti-climatic:) It was leap of faith, but I felt I owed it to him. Yes, I realize that sounds ridiculous. Maybe I'll just be honest and say I'm still barely holding on to a thread of hope that he will come to his senses.
He left. I was holding A and walked into the twins room. I could see his car from the window. I watched him put his glasses on, his seatbelt on, and leave.
Shortly after he got home yesterday, I asked what he had bought at the grocery. He knew I had seen the charge on our credit card. he said "I got Sophie some cheese-its. and some gatorade for me." I said "and that cost $11." He said "and some lunch." I said "you didn't get any wine? There is none in your car?" He said "no." I told him I wanted to see the receipt and he said he didn't have it. I told him that I didn't believe him, then. After he left, I went to the trashcan, and found the receipt. There was wine on it. He lied. again. He must have brought the bag in while I had left to pick up S.
That receipt validated me. I took a picture of it. I know I will need to pull it out and look at it from time to time.
D never did call me to tell me how the apartment viewing went. I got home, a bundle of nerves, at 5:10. D was at the dining room table, on his laptop and babies were in their high chairs (normal). No sign of Sophie. I kissed babies on their foreheads, walked right past D, on my way to find S. She was...ASLEEP. At FIVE PM! I was livid.
As calmly as I could, I asked why she was still sleeping. He attempted to give a response, but his thoughts weren't logical. I said something like "you don't care how late she sleeps b/c you won't have to be up with her tonight until she falls asleep." He said "you need to shut the F up." I said "you need to get the hell out." And, he was up, grabbed his stuff and was on his way out.
I told him that I was considering calling 911 and reporting his liscence number as a drunk driver. He looked at me and said, *almost* a threat, "do you want me to STAY?" I just let him go. I agonized over that decision once he drove away. I kept thinking that he could encounter a car with a parent driving their child home from daycare, the way I do with S 3 days a week. But, I didn't call the cops. I suppose it was to protect him, but also, REALLY, I didn't need have the energy to deal with it, and it's possible outcome.
I was SO on edge. I locked all the doors and windows, closed the blinds and just waited for babies to go to bed. My adrenaline was pumping; I was jumping at every little thing. Even poor S, who was sitting at the table with me, jumped a little when there was a sound by our front door and said "ohhhh, that scared me." My poor sweet girl. In that moment, I remember thinking, I don't need this. This is ridiculous. I want my kids to feel safe in their home, but I ALSO need to feel safe in my home. I was prepared to call 911 if he tried to come home, but he didn't.
I had a ridiculously big deadline at work the next day, so I HAD to go. I didn't want to risk harm to anyone else by having them come stay with the babies, so after I dropped S at daycare, they came to work with me. I actually considered letting campus police know what was going on. I could just picture D arriving home, and not being able to get in (I have the only key). I got a thought in my head that he might drive to my work and make a scene.
Never a word from D. I finally left to go home about 11:45. As I was pulling on to our street, he happened to drive by. He was very clearly looking down the street to see if he saw my car. I got home. Took one baby inside. He pulled up as I was getting A out of the car. I did not acknowledge him, just took her inside and locked and chained the front door.
He knocked. I ignored him. He said "I need my meds." I said "you need to wait." I then proceeded to fix the babies lunch, and only after they had what they needed did I unlock the door.
He was sober. He came in and sat on the couch. I gave him a few minutes and then said "I thought you needed your meds." A conversation started. Mostly me telling him that he needed to go somewhere else, that I was scared of him, that i was done with the situation. That I had considered a restraining order. He said "that won't be necessary." I said "you were out of control last night. When you are sober, it might not be necessary but when you are drunk you are totally unpredicable." He agreed.
I told him I'd need money for childcare, about $2k for the twins alone. He said "I forgot to take my meds, went on a binge. I don't think that means i shouldn't be able to see my kids." REALLY? REALLY???!!! You make a choice, you deal with the consequence.
He was sweating. Shaking. God, it was bad. It was SO emotional. Thankfully, I had enough adrenaline pumping to keep moving forward. Not backing down. Dear LORD did I want to back down and give him one more chance. Just one more.
He got a suitcase, put some stuff in the car and was starting to leave. I said "where are you going?" He said "well, I can't be half kicked out can I?" I said "You need to wait until Sophie gets home so you can tell her something." "What am I supposed to tell her? That mommy's kicking me out? That I'm a drunk? "That I'm a failure as a father?"
It was so hard to hear him say those things. To know he was internalizing those things.
I said "don't you care walk out of here with out saying something to S. She deserves more than that." I told him that I've been talking with her about it, and she is prepared to hear that he might "not be sleeping here anymore."
He stayed. I went to lie down. I couldn't nap. I got up. We started talking again. He said he'd meet with the attorney with me on Monday. I asked about the apartment. He said it was tiny. He talked a bit more and said "I could be homeless." Maybe I'm dense, but I don't think he meant that in a manipulative way. I think he really thinks that is what he's worth right now. Nothing. I didn't comment except to say "you had somewhere to live." He said "if only I could just stop drinking." I had no response for that. I told him he is always welcome, so long as he's sober. I think that made him feel better. Less alone. I finally was able to get out the words "I don't think you're a bad person" and then I lost it. It is SO important to me that he know that. He's a good person, with a very serious problem. And I'm sorry for that. I am. But I can't let him bring me down anymore. I just can't. And I feel like I'm failing him.
As I was leaving to go pick up Sophie, babies were up from their nap. He was holding Avery and started crying. "I guess I really am mentally ill. To give all this up." I buried my face in C's neck and cried.
he asked me again what to tell S. He wanted to tell her he was sick. True, but, she's been sick enough in her life and has always gotten better. I don't know. It just didn't feel right to me. She can't grasp this idea of sickness yet. I told him again to say that he's going to sleep somewhere else. And that he loves her. And that he'll come to see her.
I left. Got stuck in traffic. Started thinking, Oh, why not just let him stay home until he gets an apartment. Why bother with a hotel. No, what are you thinking. Absolutely not. I kept going back to his comments about stopping his meds for a few days and that's when the binge started. But that's not right. The binge has lasted almost a week. That was well before he stopped his meds (or so he says). Then I think, these are new meds, maybe they aren't working as well. Maybe we need to try something else. The back and forth in my head was just ridulous.
On the way home with S, I told her that daddy hadn't slept in our house last night (she didn't even realize). She said "oh, did he go to a meeting?" heart.breaking. "I'm not sure baby, I just know he didn't sleep at our house. And, I don't think he's going to sleep at our house tonight. OK?" "OK."
He was ready to go when I got back home. He called S over and told her he was going to stay somewhere else tonight. And that he loved her. And that he'd come back and see her tomorrow. (I had already agreed that he could come back tomorrow (today), so long as he was sober.) She said "ok" and walked away with her lollipop. Very anti-climatic:) It was leap of faith, but I felt I owed it to him. Yes, I realize that sounds ridiculous. Maybe I'll just be honest and say I'm still barely holding on to a thread of hope that he will come to his senses.
He left. I was holding A and walked into the twins room. I could see his car from the window. I watched him put his glasses on, his seatbelt on, and leave.
Shortly after he got home yesterday, I asked what he had bought at the grocery. He knew I had seen the charge on our credit card. he said "I got Sophie some cheese-its. and some gatorade for me." I said "and that cost $11." He said "and some lunch." I said "you didn't get any wine? There is none in your car?" He said "no." I told him I wanted to see the receipt and he said he didn't have it. I told him that I didn't believe him, then. After he left, I went to the trashcan, and found the receipt. There was wine on it. He lied. again. He must have brought the bag in while I had left to pick up S.
That receipt validated me. I took a picture of it. I know I will need to pull it out and look at it from time to time.
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
Hard conversation
I just got of the phone with my brother in law. He sent me a text earlier, asking why someone was checking employment history for my DH.
Turns out, he didn't connect the dots, and thought it was a reference for job, and not an apartment check.
So, I just had THAT conversation. It's one I've been putting off, almost as much as telling my parents. I had to tell his brother that enough is finally enough. That I have to protect our children. He told me he loved me and that he understood and that I am more family to him than his brother is. He told me that he has been waiting for me to make this decision, but knew I needed to make it on my own.
Luckily (??), he's also a lawyer. He talked through some things with me. He doesn't think mediation is going to work. He thinks that DH is going to need someone in a black robe laying down the law. He doesn't think he'll follow through with mediation. He thinks he'll be back in a few weeks, promising me that he'll be better.
We talked about the inheritance. He agreed since my name is on everything, I am entitled to ask for 50%. Such a tough conversation to have with him. I have been desperate for him not to think that I've reached my breaking point just when there is finally money at stake. This is HIS families money after all, his mother's money. I honestly don't think it ever crossed his mind.
Turns out, he didn't connect the dots, and thought it was a reference for job, and not an apartment check.
So, I just had THAT conversation. It's one I've been putting off, almost as much as telling my parents. I had to tell his brother that enough is finally enough. That I have to protect our children. He told me he loved me and that he understood and that I am more family to him than his brother is. He told me that he has been waiting for me to make this decision, but knew I needed to make it on my own.
Luckily (??), he's also a lawyer. He talked through some things with me. He doesn't think mediation is going to work. He thinks that DH is going to need someone in a black robe laying down the law. He doesn't think he'll follow through with mediation. He thinks he'll be back in a few weeks, promising me that he'll be better.
We talked about the inheritance. He agreed since my name is on everything, I am entitled to ask for 50%. Such a tough conversation to have with him. I have been desperate for him not to think that I've reached my breaking point just when there is finally money at stake. This is HIS families money after all, his mother's money. I honestly don't think it ever crossed his mind.
The Unknown
Dear Lord, I still do not know what the in the hell is going on. I have not talked to DH since his appt to see the apartment. I've called him twice and he's not answering. I got on FB, saw he was on there, and then he immediately got offline. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
I just want to know what in the world is happening. I STILL can't focus. Going home isn't really going to help, as I'm exhausted and by default will be forced into being primary parent for the babies.
I talked to my mom, and she told me they left our house about 1 pm. She didn't say much about DH, except that she overheard him say to S that she needed to tell grandma and grandpa bye-bye because they were leaving soon. OK, guess he was ready for them to leave. My mom didn't seem to take much offense though, thankfully.
I just want to know what in the world is happening. I STILL can't focus. Going home isn't really going to help, as I'm exhausted and by default will be forced into being primary parent for the babies.
I talked to my mom, and she told me they left our house about 1 pm. She didn't say much about DH, except that she overheard him say to S that she needed to tell grandma and grandpa bye-bye because they were leaving soon. OK, guess he was ready for them to leave. My mom didn't seem to take much offense though, thankfully.
The storm before the calm...
He had an appointment at 11 (50 minutes ago) to look at, and potentially sign a lease, on an apartment.
To say I am on edge is an understatement. I am a ball of nervous energy and anxiety. I can't focus on anything for more than a minute or two. I was up most of the night.
This is for the best. I KNOW it is for the best, at a very minimum for my children. They deserve to be in a happy, emotionally stable household. He cannot provide that right now. Doubtful, if ever.
Last night, I reminded S that "daddy might live somewhere else soon." Her response? "I'll be fine." I was floored, didn't expect that response, but SO thankful that she has been HEARING me when I talk about this with her. My big, smart, intuitive girl.
Part of my anxiety right now is knowing that my parents are there, caring for our children, while he is out looking for a new place to live. Days that they come to visit (usually Wed), I am typically a ball of nerves, especially if he is binging. He has almost no filter when sober, so when he's drinking, he REALLY doesn't stop to think about what he is saying. He's not a huge fan of my parents; they tolerate him. I always feel such a sense of relief when my mom calls to tell me they just left our house.
I just want today to be over. To know that he's signed it. It almost feels like a feeling when you know someone is going to do. It's imminent, it's sad, and then it's over and you can start to move on.
I am a control freak. I do not like when things are not in my control, and this is most definately not.
To say I am on edge is an understatement. I am a ball of nervous energy and anxiety. I can't focus on anything for more than a minute or two. I was up most of the night.
This is for the best. I KNOW it is for the best, at a very minimum for my children. They deserve to be in a happy, emotionally stable household. He cannot provide that right now. Doubtful, if ever.
Last night, I reminded S that "daddy might live somewhere else soon." Her response? "I'll be fine." I was floored, didn't expect that response, but SO thankful that she has been HEARING me when I talk about this with her. My big, smart, intuitive girl.
Part of my anxiety right now is knowing that my parents are there, caring for our children, while he is out looking for a new place to live. Days that they come to visit (usually Wed), I am typically a ball of nerves, especially if he is binging. He has almost no filter when sober, so when he's drinking, he REALLY doesn't stop to think about what he is saying. He's not a huge fan of my parents; they tolerate him. I always feel such a sense of relief when my mom calls to tell me they just left our house.
I just want today to be over. To know that he's signed it. It almost feels like a feeling when you know someone is going to do. It's imminent, it's sad, and then it's over and you can start to move on.
I am a control freak. I do not like when things are not in my control, and this is most definately not.
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
No title
This entire situation is just draining me.
He has an appt to look at an apartment tomorrow. last night he told me "I have an appt at 11, and it's available immediately. I heard "I have an appt at 11 am, and I'm moving in." After a bit of questioning, I realized it *was* just an appt, not an actual plan to move. I'm not sure how that made me feel. Relief that he might actually go, coupled with relief that he might still stay.
I couldn't figure out which idea was the one I wanted to be true.
In early December, when he was totally flipping out, I brought up to our daughter that some mommys and daddy's don't live together, and that's ok. We talked about one of her friends at daycare, whose daddy doesn't live with her or her mommy. We talked about this sporatically in December. I brought it up again last night on the way home. "Z's daddy doesn't live with her, right?" "No, she just lives with her mommy." "Yes, that's ok." "But my daddy lives with me!" "Yes he does, but maybe soon he won't. If that happens, mommy will take care of you." "But I'll miss daddy if he doesn't sleep where we sleep." "I know you will but mommy will take care of you and babies." "But I don't want daddy to sleep somewhere else." Tears from her then. A wrenching knot in the bottom of my stomach, how dare you do this to her.
You are SO messed up, but when she looks at you she only sees perfection. Don't you DARE do to her what your father did to you. I will not let you hurt her. She is too special and does not deserve this.
Last night, as she and I were falling asleep she asked "where's daddy. Is he sleeping somewhere else?" "No, he's just in the family room watching tv. He will sleep in our house tonight."
Driving to work this morning, I felt myself slipping back into that codependent routine. Wanting to call him and ask "is this really what you want? Can't you just try one more time?" But really, what good would that do? In a matter of weeks, we'd be right back where we are now. I think I just finally need to rip the bandaid off and let it bleed. If *I* am going to move forward emotionally, this relationship has to move forward (in one way or another) or I am going to be stuck.
Until recently, I haven't really felt stuck. I never had that feeling of "this is it. end of the road." I do now. And now that I'm here, I need to just keep trudging forward, even though I have no idea what is in store for me. An almost 39 year old full time working mom to 3 kids 3 and under. HOW IN THE HELL WILL I MANAGE THIS? I can't depend on him, he's not dependable. I need to plan everything by myself, with no thoughts of him being in our lives. If he is, fantastic. I'll need the extra hands. Honestly, if he moves, I see him staying around for a few weeks, maybe months. After that, who knows. He's going to drift out of our lives, and maybe try to drift back in from time to time. I don't care for me, but the thought of him abandoning our 3 beautiful little people is enough to make me sick to my stomach.
A friend asked me this weeknd if I was sad for what I thought my future would be (and now it's turning out differently). I'm not sad for myself. I have never been able to plan that far ahead with him. His behavior is too erratic, and if he thinks about the future, it's really just in generalities. But, I am beyond devastated for the future that I had planned for my little family of 5. I'm pissed off and devastated that their dad will not be in their lives. Yes, I know this, even now.
He has an appt to look at an apartment tomorrow. last night he told me "I have an appt at 11, and it's available immediately. I heard "I have an appt at 11 am, and I'm moving in." After a bit of questioning, I realized it *was* just an appt, not an actual plan to move. I'm not sure how that made me feel. Relief that he might actually go, coupled with relief that he might still stay.
I couldn't figure out which idea was the one I wanted to be true.
In early December, when he was totally flipping out, I brought up to our daughter that some mommys and daddy's don't live together, and that's ok. We talked about one of her friends at daycare, whose daddy doesn't live with her or her mommy. We talked about this sporatically in December. I brought it up again last night on the way home. "Z's daddy doesn't live with her, right?" "No, she just lives with her mommy." "Yes, that's ok." "But my daddy lives with me!" "Yes he does, but maybe soon he won't. If that happens, mommy will take care of you." "But I'll miss daddy if he doesn't sleep where we sleep." "I know you will but mommy will take care of you and babies." "But I don't want daddy to sleep somewhere else." Tears from her then. A wrenching knot in the bottom of my stomach, how dare you do this to her.
You are SO messed up, but when she looks at you she only sees perfection. Don't you DARE do to her what your father did to you. I will not let you hurt her. She is too special and does not deserve this.
Last night, as she and I were falling asleep she asked "where's daddy. Is he sleeping somewhere else?" "No, he's just in the family room watching tv. He will sleep in our house tonight."
Driving to work this morning, I felt myself slipping back into that codependent routine. Wanting to call him and ask "is this really what you want? Can't you just try one more time?" But really, what good would that do? In a matter of weeks, we'd be right back where we are now. I think I just finally need to rip the bandaid off and let it bleed. If *I* am going to move forward emotionally, this relationship has to move forward (in one way or another) or I am going to be stuck.
Until recently, I haven't really felt stuck. I never had that feeling of "this is it. end of the road." I do now. And now that I'm here, I need to just keep trudging forward, even though I have no idea what is in store for me. An almost 39 year old full time working mom to 3 kids 3 and under. HOW IN THE HELL WILL I MANAGE THIS? I can't depend on him, he's not dependable. I need to plan everything by myself, with no thoughts of him being in our lives. If he is, fantastic. I'll need the extra hands. Honestly, if he moves, I see him staying around for a few weeks, maybe months. After that, who knows. He's going to drift out of our lives, and maybe try to drift back in from time to time. I don't care for me, but the thought of him abandoning our 3 beautiful little people is enough to make me sick to my stomach.
A friend asked me this weeknd if I was sad for what I thought my future would be (and now it's turning out differently). I'm not sad for myself. I have never been able to plan that far ahead with him. His behavior is too erratic, and if he thinks about the future, it's really just in generalities. But, I am beyond devastated for the future that I had planned for my little family of 5. I'm pissed off and devastated that their dad will not be in their lives. Yes, I know this, even now.
Monday, February 11, 2013
Rum
He drank all weekend. Literally, all.day.Sunday. This morning, I found a bottle of rum, hidden, of course. That was the final straw for me. There is a strict "no hard liquor" rule in our house. When sober, he agrees and understands why. He's an ASS when drinking hard liqour. It's just not allowed. But, I found a bottle this morning.
I told him I wouldn't tolerate it any more. He needs to find somewhere else to go. He asked "what about babies." I told him that I would take care of them, and be responsible for them, like I always am. I told him to find a place that accepts pets, because I CANNOT handle our neurotic dog + 3 kids. Just isn't happening. I told him to find someplace cheap. When he thought about moving out before, he reserved an apartment hotel for a month, at the low low price of $1000. Um, no. Cheaper please.
I checked our savings account a bit ago, and saw that he'd taken out $200. He doesn't DO that, and I flipped out, with concern. I just called him, he said he was home. Said he was waiting for a guy to call him back about an apartment. I asked if he'd be leaving tonight. He said "it's what you wanted." Damn, fucking manipulator. YEAH, I want my husband to be a fall down drunk, that can't stop drinking and ruin our marriage. That's right. That's what I signed up for. Whatever.
Regardless, I find it funny that a bottle of rum was FINALLY my tipping point. Not a DUI, not hitting one of our kids or myself (NEVER HAS), not burning one of the few bridges he has left. Just a bottle of rum. It represented to me that he has checked out, that he is not rational, not logical, nor does he have any desire to be.
My kids deserve better than that.
I deserve better than that. He can't do that right now. Never.
All weekend, I kept hearing him tell the doctor "I don't have a plan." GET A PLAN YOU IDIOT, BEFORE YOU COMPLETELY RUIN YOUR LIFE.
I DO have a plan, and it's to be the best mother (and father, possibly) I can be to my babies. That's my plan. There's never been a question in my mind.
I told him I wouldn't tolerate it any more. He needs to find somewhere else to go. He asked "what about babies." I told him that I would take care of them, and be responsible for them, like I always am. I told him to find a place that accepts pets, because I CANNOT handle our neurotic dog + 3 kids. Just isn't happening. I told him to find someplace cheap. When he thought about moving out before, he reserved an apartment hotel for a month, at the low low price of $1000. Um, no. Cheaper please.
I checked our savings account a bit ago, and saw that he'd taken out $200. He doesn't DO that, and I flipped out, with concern. I just called him, he said he was home. Said he was waiting for a guy to call him back about an apartment. I asked if he'd be leaving tonight. He said "it's what you wanted." Damn, fucking manipulator. YEAH, I want my husband to be a fall down drunk, that can't stop drinking and ruin our marriage. That's right. That's what I signed up for. Whatever.
Regardless, I find it funny that a bottle of rum was FINALLY my tipping point. Not a DUI, not hitting one of our kids or myself (NEVER HAS), not burning one of the few bridges he has left. Just a bottle of rum. It represented to me that he has checked out, that he is not rational, not logical, nor does he have any desire to be.
My kids deserve better than that.
I deserve better than that. He can't do that right now. Never.
All weekend, I kept hearing him tell the doctor "I don't have a plan." GET A PLAN YOU IDIOT, BEFORE YOU COMPLETELY RUIN YOUR LIFE.
I DO have a plan, and it's to be the best mother (and father, possibly) I can be to my babies. That's my plan. There's never been a question in my mind.
Friday, February 8, 2013
GRRRRRRRRRRRRR
I just got back to work after DH's appt. After waiting almost an hour to be seen, I was definately on edge. This was our first time to meet this dr. DH's response to "how've you been doing since your discharge was "drinking again, but the other mental health issues are going ok." And then he went off on a tangent about his new meds. This just pissed me off, I don't know why. Way to minimize the drinking you ass-hat. When asked about the drinking, he said "I don't have a plan." He said it a few different times, in slightly different ways. My blood was just beginning to boil. The dr asked if he wanted to try out-patient treatment again. Um, HELLO waste of time and money. Really??
Finally I could not keep quite anymore. DH responded to something (can't remember what) with "we....". I looked at him and said "what do you mean WE?" It clearly caught him off guard that I called him out, but he totally backtracked. I finally looked at the dr and told him that we have an appt with an attorney to discuss divorce. I explained that I'm worried about his well being when he is no longer covered by my insurance. I brought up Disability. He basically said he couldn't make promises (no shit sherlock), but that he would do what he could to help our case.
In all, I didn't like the dr. Most likely b/c he pissed me off when just a few minutes into the meeting he said "well we can't make him stop drinking." It was like a slap in the face and realization all at the same time. I KNOW this. I would tell anyone living with an addict the same thing, but when it was being presented to me, in such a factual way, it pissed me the hell off.
Finally I could not keep quite anymore. DH responded to something (can't remember what) with "we....". I looked at him and said "what do you mean WE?" It clearly caught him off guard that I called him out, but he totally backtracked. I finally looked at the dr and told him that we have an appt with an attorney to discuss divorce. I explained that I'm worried about his well being when he is no longer covered by my insurance. I brought up Disability. He basically said he couldn't make promises (no shit sherlock), but that he would do what he could to help our case.
In all, I didn't like the dr. Most likely b/c he pissed me off when just a few minutes into the meeting he said "well we can't make him stop drinking." It was like a slap in the face and realization all at the same time. I KNOW this. I would tell anyone living with an addict the same thing, but when it was being presented to me, in such a factual way, it pissed me the hell off.
Effing jackass
This was my thought when I got home last night. I had a HORRIBLY busy work day, had to stop by Office Dep.ot and buy a new laptop b/c C broke ours, and THEN stopped by an open house for pre-K for S.
I walked in, and DH was putting his wallet in his pocket, shoes on, ready to head out the door. I immediately asked if he'd been drinking. He said yes. He also told me babies needed milk and he was going to get it. I told him that I would get it (since he'd been drinking) but the reason babies were out of milk is b/c he hadn't gotten them any when he went to the store the day before to get his wine. I was livid.
Ran to the store, got what we needed and returned home. He said "Ok, it's my turn now. Have fun with the kids" and proceeded to head to the grocery and get more wine for himself. Luckily, after thinking of several choice words for him, I just turned to and focused on my 3 little ones. I've become SO much better at detaching from his chaos that it's not typically something I have to focus on, it usually comes naturally.
He got home a bit later, and my only words to him after that were "how long did the babies nap today." Nice marriage, huh??
I heard him wake up about 5 and heard the clinking of the ice cubes in his glass. Must have been the end of his 2nd bottle of wine...
He was still buzzed when he woke up this AM, I could tell. I asked if he was going to his dr appt today. He was shocked that it was today, but still plans on going. I will meet him there. THis is his first visit with new psych post hospital discharge. I plan on being very blunt with the dr, and let him know that divorce is on the table and I'm worried about his health if that happens. I'm hoping to get his thoughts on Disability.
I walked in, and DH was putting his wallet in his pocket, shoes on, ready to head out the door. I immediately asked if he'd been drinking. He said yes. He also told me babies needed milk and he was going to get it. I told him that I would get it (since he'd been drinking) but the reason babies were out of milk is b/c he hadn't gotten them any when he went to the store the day before to get his wine. I was livid.
Ran to the store, got what we needed and returned home. He said "Ok, it's my turn now. Have fun with the kids" and proceeded to head to the grocery and get more wine for himself. Luckily, after thinking of several choice words for him, I just turned to and focused on my 3 little ones. I've become SO much better at detaching from his chaos that it's not typically something I have to focus on, it usually comes naturally.
He got home a bit later, and my only words to him after that were "how long did the babies nap today." Nice marriage, huh??
I heard him wake up about 5 and heard the clinking of the ice cubes in his glass. Must have been the end of his 2nd bottle of wine...
He was still buzzed when he woke up this AM, I could tell. I asked if he was going to his dr appt today. He was shocked that it was today, but still plans on going. I will meet him there. THis is his first visit with new psych post hospital discharge. I plan on being very blunt with the dr, and let him know that divorce is on the table and I'm worried about his health if that happens. I'm hoping to get his thoughts on Disability.
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
Blah, blah, blah...and an appointment
The drinking is daily again. The AA meetings have stopped. When I asked two nights ago if he was going back, he said "I guess not today." Idiot passive aggressive jackass.
This means that daughter and I will sequester in our bedroom after the babies go to sleep. That's really not as bad as it sounds, but basically DH will hole up in our family room, watching cop/jail shows or sports, and daughter and I will play and watch fun TV. She doesn't know any differently, thankfully. And honestly, I love the time that I spend with her, by ourselves after babies are in bed.
I made an appt today with an attorney to discuss mediation. We'll both go, it's in a few weeks. He'll talk with us about what to expect, assess our situation to see if we are a good candidate and talk about costs.
I'm really abivalent about the entire thing. I know that Icannot WILL not stay if there is not a permanent change.
This means that daughter and I will sequester in our bedroom after the babies go to sleep. That's really not as bad as it sounds, but basically DH will hole up in our family room, watching cop/jail shows or sports, and daughter and I will play and watch fun TV. She doesn't know any differently, thankfully. And honestly, I love the time that I spend with her, by ourselves after babies are in bed.
I made an appt today with an attorney to discuss mediation. We'll both go, it's in a few weeks. He'll talk with us about what to expect, assess our situation to see if we are a good candidate and talk about costs.
I'm really abivalent about the entire thing. I know that I
Monday, February 4, 2013
Treatment
Alot has happened since my first post. H checked himself into treatment the day after Christmas. He was there for 19 days. Major discovery: his psychiatrist had been prescribing him possibly lethel doses of meds, especially when combined with alcohol. They did agree with the bi-polar diagnosis, but changed some meds. He was doing well. He was logical, insightful. I was hopeful, but realistic.
He relapsed 7 days after returning home. And then 7 days later, and then another 7. Like the hopeful, co-dependent wife, I saw a good sign in the fact that he was not drinking every day, and when drinking, not *that* much, for him anyway. But then the lies started again. And the deception. And I had to put my foot down, again.
So now, we're talking about divorce. More than talking about it really. We had a good conversation this weekend about property and the babies, and money. The money is the hardest conversation. He received a decent inheritance from his mother when she passed away. That money is in both of our names now, meaning I have access/right to it. He mentioned he wanted at least half, and I thought that was fair. I know that I can support myself with my income, but where I will need help is with childcare and general child expenses. I would like half of the money, to ensure they can be raised as I want them to be.
But then, I feel sad, worried about him. Half of the pot of money is a decent amount, but he'll quickly blow through it. He won't work, I know this. If the divorce happens, he may stay healthy(ish) for several months, but then start snow-balling out of control. He'll run through the money, and I feel bad for that. He'll have nothing. Meanwhile, I'll be in our house, raising our kids, with a nice little nest egg. That is the co-dependent talking. The rational, get your shit together side of me says, tough. He is responsible for his own decisions. And I KNOW, way down deep in my heart, that his mom would be ok with me taking half the money, knowing I will make wise decisions regarding the care and education of her grandchildren. Of this, I have no doubt. It evens out my co-dependent thoughts.
He has a psychiatrist appointment on Friday. It will be his first appt with new doc, post-discharge. This doctor is affiliated with the hospital where H stayed, and works with substance users daily. H gave me permission to join him for that appointment. As we're moving closer and closer to divorce, the social worker in me feels a strong need help him apply for Disability. He can't work. He might be able to function enough to GET to work, and may even be able to stay sober at work for a week or so, but eventually, alcohol will get in the way. Or, should I say, work will get in the way of alcohol.
I worry about what will happen to his health coverage if we divorce. He'll lose it all. Medicaid? I don't know anything about it really. He can't go without meds. If he does, he's certain to end up homeless on a beach in Florida, or face down in a gutter in DC. I know this, because he's been there before.
He relapsed 7 days after returning home. And then 7 days later, and then another 7. Like the hopeful, co-dependent wife, I saw a good sign in the fact that he was not drinking every day, and when drinking, not *that* much, for him anyway. But then the lies started again. And the deception. And I had to put my foot down, again.
So now, we're talking about divorce. More than talking about it really. We had a good conversation this weekend about property and the babies, and money. The money is the hardest conversation. He received a decent inheritance from his mother when she passed away. That money is in both of our names now, meaning I have access/right to it. He mentioned he wanted at least half, and I thought that was fair. I know that I can support myself with my income, but where I will need help is with childcare and general child expenses. I would like half of the money, to ensure they can be raised as I want them to be.
But then, I feel sad, worried about him. Half of the pot of money is a decent amount, but he'll quickly blow through it. He won't work, I know this. If the divorce happens, he may stay healthy(ish) for several months, but then start snow-balling out of control. He'll run through the money, and I feel bad for that. He'll have nothing. Meanwhile, I'll be in our house, raising our kids, with a nice little nest egg. That is the co-dependent talking. The rational, get your shit together side of me says, tough. He is responsible for his own decisions. And I KNOW, way down deep in my heart, that his mom would be ok with me taking half the money, knowing I will make wise decisions regarding the care and education of her grandchildren. Of this, I have no doubt. It evens out my co-dependent thoughts.
He has a psychiatrist appointment on Friday. It will be his first appt with new doc, post-discharge. This doctor is affiliated with the hospital where H stayed, and works with substance users daily. H gave me permission to join him for that appointment. As we're moving closer and closer to divorce, the social worker in me feels a strong need help him apply for Disability. He can't work. He might be able to function enough to GET to work, and may even be able to stay sober at work for a week or so, but eventually, alcohol will get in the way. Or, should I say, work will get in the way of alcohol.
I worry about what will happen to his health coverage if we divorce. He'll lose it all. Medicaid? I don't know anything about it really. He can't go without meds. If he does, he's certain to end up homeless on a beach in Florida, or face down in a gutter in DC. I know this, because he's been there before.
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