Tuesday, October 22, 2013

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

So.frustrating.
I just got off the phone with D. I told him that he needed to come up with a solution re: visitation that includes 1) being sober and 2) not in active withdrawal. His response was "sobriety." I honestly just sat there. I had no immediate response. I finally gathered myself and told him I didn't feel that was a feasible solution. That he had tried for 10 years and that it hadn't worked yet and I didn't expect it to ever work. That he has lost everything but his money and he doesn't seem to care. Then, the social worker kicked in and I added that it was a great long term goal, but that he needed to come up with something more short-term.

I told him I don't want our kids lasting memories of him to be puking in the backyard or sweating profusely on the couch. He didn't respond. He told me he'd ask the dr for some ativan. Great, more medication. He then went on to try to defend himself, telling me he thought the situation the other night was anxiety related, not withdrawal. I agreed that there was definately anxiety involved but the fact that he couldn't hold his KEYS was purely withdrawal. He told me he was fine when he got in the car. He may well have been. I don't know, and I wasn't going to argue about it.

I told him that I thought about calling the cops when he left. At that point he got defensive and said something like "yeah, they're going to ticket a sober, insuranced driver who's driving perfectly fine." Again, I wasn't going to argue. I simply said that he needed to stop being so selfish and start to think about others who he might possibly endanger.

He's just clueless. None of this is his fault. It's anxiety, so obviously that clears him of any wrong-doing. His lack of caring for his own well-being/outcome is unfathomable to me. I don't GET it.

These are the days I just want to say fuck it. We're DONE. I mean, obviously, we're done, but more "I'm done with every aspect of you. I'm done THINKING about you. You can't see your kids anymore."

I'm just so frustrated. He fell in the bathtub last weekend. Big surprise, right? He got an MRI done this morning that was negative, and the dr thinks it's probably just a deep bone bruise and is going to give him something for the pain. Fantastic, MORE medicine. Trust me, he's honestly not drug-seeking. He HATES pills/meds of any kind.

I have a call in to the agency that specializes in divorce. My professional relationship with the organization is over, so I want to get an intake appt asap. S is doing alot better than she was this summer, but if he can't figure out a way to be in their life positively, to be a somewhat productive and encouraging father, then he's out. And she needs to be prepared for that.

Monday, October 21, 2013

Newly "phased"

In regards to D, not much phases me anymore. A DUI, jail, fired from a job, broken bones, etc...I've seen it all. Last night though, freaked me the F out.

He came over about 3 pm, sober. About 4:30, the tremors and sweating started. I heard him puke in the bathroom. The babies couldn't tell anything was different, and if they did they certainly weren't phased. I was pissed, but resigned. He was making an effort, after all.

At 5:30, I had the babies in their high chairs for dinner. I happened to look out the kitchen window to see D dry heaving off the deck. Lovely. I could SEE from the movement of his shorts he was shaking. I actually took a video of it. Not sure why. The eerie part of the 20 sec video clip is about the sound of A's sweet voice yelling for her daddy. They could see nothing, she just chose that random time to call for him. This entire incident was just minutes after I asked him if he was ever scared of having a heart attack. "It hasn't happened yet."

He then came in and layed on the couch for an hour, clearly incapacitated. Finally, once I had the twins in the bath, I walked into the family room and said "why don't you just go." He said "no, I'll stay." I told him that he was useless to me in the state he was in. Just at that time, S walked in the room and said "I want daddy to go." OMG, I could *see* his heart breaking. So mine broke for him.

She walked into the bathroom and said "babies, daddy's going home. He doesn't feel well." Her ability to feel-out the situation just floored me.

I walked back into the living room where he was putting on his shoes, gathering his phone and keys, etc. He was very obviously shaking, but nothing I hadn't witnessed before. Then, he tried to pick up this travel size bottle of cologne I had found hiding in the bathroom and was going to take home with him. His "slight" shakes turned into these Parkinson-like gross tremors, in which he could NOT hold his hand still. The lid came off the cologne and I yelled "stop." He said he couldn't stop. It took both of my hands on top of his, applying pressure to make it stop. Once I let go it started again. We're not talking can't sign your name legibly. Think fish out of water. This was unlike ANYTHING I've ever seen before. It's conservative for me to say that his hands were shaking (I can't really even use that word for this) SO much that they were a good 10-12 inches from where he wanted them. I spent along time last night looking for a video to describe what I saw. Anything I found on youtube about "alcohol tremors" did not hold a candle. It was horrific.

I can't stop thinking about it. I close my eyes and I SEE his hands. He went on to say it was uncontrollable. I reminded him that he could control it, he was just choosing not to do so.

Tuesday, October 15, 2013

November 25th @ 9 am

That's our courtdate. It was like jumping through hopes to get it. I didn't realize it wasn't automatically assigned and have been waiting for months to get a letter notifying me of the date. I found out last week that the district we're assigned to does not automatically do that. So, it's done now. We both have to take a parenting class. Mine is Nov 20. I e-mailed D the info so he can schedule his class.

After the phone call, I had another head in my hands how is this my life moment. Surreal that I'm here.

After "skipping out" last Tues-Thurs, D IM'd me late Friday night to ask what time S's soccer game was on Saturday. I SO did not want to respond. I DID make him wait, but I told him, but geez I didn't want to. He showed up, sober, before I did. He played with Connor for the entire hour (this was a good thing!).

I had nothing to say to him, and what did come to mind was certainly not appropriate in front of S. After the babies went down for their nap, I asked if he had changed his visiting routine without telling me. "I had a bad week." That was it. I had a bad week. Wish *I* could use that excuse. I'm so done with him that I don't have the effort to fight, or even discuss. He has exhausted me, and I just don't care enough anymore. I did manage to tell him to NEVER call me his wife again. That although I was technically, he clearly doesn't give a shit about me, and I'm beginning to believe for his children either. He had no comment to that.

Later in the day, I was helping him with his phone (he is technologically illiterate). He got a new phone and had no idea where to look for texts. He actually had the volume off and so had no idea I was calling or texting. He had to answer some security questions. One was "where did your parents meet." He answered, and then said "although I don't have parents. If I did, I wouldn't be so fucked up." OMG GROW UP. You are almost 45 years old and STILL blaming your parents.

 A bit later, he told me he needed more money from our joint account. We talked about that a bit. He actually said "between booze and food I'm spending about xxx a day." He LITERALLY has alcohol in his flipping BUDGET. He is OUT of money, but refuses to stop drinking even though it means he's brok. No words.

Nov 25.

Wednesday, October 9, 2013

mixed emotions

My emotions have gone from one end of the spectrum to the other since Sunday. I took the babies to the pumpkin patch on Sunday morning (thank you S, for helping to wrangle my children;)). I sent D a text at 12:30, as we were leaving, so he would know what time we'd be home. In his defense, he never said he'd be there by 1 (or any specific time). We got home, had lunch, I put the twins down for their nap and lied down in my own bed. When D hadn't shown up by 1:30, I took a nap myself.

I woke up at 3 pm, feeling like I'd been drugged. I had no idea what time it was, what DAY it was. I'm not entirely sure I even knew my own name. I remember looking over at S, who was happily coloring in bed next to me. That grounded me a bit, and then I looked outside and I still couldn't decipher night from day. It was BIZARRE. Once I finally got my composure, I looked at my phone to see that D had called at 2:30, but didn't leave a message. I  called him back, but no answer.  About 4, I sent him a text letting him know that S was looking for him (this was true). No response. I didn't think  much about it until I walked out the front door about 5 and saw that the trashcan of dirty dipes have been emptied and put in our dumpster. My guess is he was there and knocked, but I didn't hear.

Immediate guilt. OMG he showed up to see his kids and I didn't hear him. He went out of his way to drive here to see them and he couldn't. After this, I tried to call him several more times (a bit obsessively). No answer.

He never showed up, nor called back, nor answered my texts or contacted me on FB.  I was also feeling very anxious about poor S's hives, and was obsessivly googling about that Sunday night. I couldn't sleep, was completely wound up and could not relax. It was horrible.

Monday is not one of his usual days so it didn't surprise me when he didn't show up. Last night, Tues, I fully expected to see his car in front of the house when I pulled on to our street. Interestingly, I was secretly hoping I wouldn't. I just had no desire to see him. I just wanted to spent time with my babies in a relatively chaos-free environment. He wasn't there, and didn't show the rest of the night.

S mentioned "daddy was supposed to be here tonight. That's weird that he wasn't." All I could say is "yes, that IS weird." I had no other response for her.

THEN, I wake up this AM to see a post of his on FB about "his wife's house." Um, I literally scratched my head. ENOUGH with calling me "wife" already. Yes, I am, technically, but certainly not in practice. It just pissed me off. I wanted to respond so badly "your wife would like to know when you're coming to see your kids." THIS close to doing that. But, I am the better person, right?!

I wonder why he isn't answering his phone. My guess is that he lost it. I don't think he ever got the text I sent on Sunday, since it wasn't marked as "delivered." I wonder, does he not have ANY interest in what's going on with his kids? What if one of them were sick, or S was in the ER (which is not a stretch given her medical history). I understand him not wanting to talk to me, but e-mail, or FB message or something to check on his kids. Although, if I think about it rationally, I would guess most divorced couples don't have a lot of communication with each other, unless it's absolutely necessary. But our situation is different. If he only wants to see them xx number of days per month, then we need to make a plan for that, and introduce it to S so she knows what to expect.

Thursday, October 3, 2013

defining status quo

Today is a better day:)

The last several weeks have been both good and bad. My days are usually only bad when D's behaviors cannot help but affect me. He's on a rollercoaster. Alot of it is the bipolar, alot is the drinking. His psychiatrist told him this week that his bipolar is getting worse. She increased his meds.

He showed up drunk last Friday night and I had to send him away. He didn't show the next day, which was also S's soccer game that he told her he would attend. When she saw him on Sunday she asked why he didn't show. "I was sick." "Why were you sick, daddy?" "My medicine made me sick"
:-/

I meant to post here about his behavior on the twins' b-day, but I think I just couldn't bare to deal with it. We met our photographer that morning in the park. I had invited D, but let him know that he wasn't expected, and to only show if he wanted to be in a few pictures. He DID show (I was SHOCKED, given his behavior in the days leading up to that morning). He looked like a zombie an was very unengaged from the kids. He was sweating bullets, and his eyes were like slits, he was bloated. After the fact, S my friend who took the pics told me that his eyes were so blood shot that she had trouble editing the pics.

We left the park and headed to have some fun with the kids. While on the way, he chugged a gatorade bottle of water. Yes, I know it was water. When we get to our destination, he puked in the parking lot. Over and over and over and OVER. I was pissed and livid and embarrassed. Not a speck of my being felt sorry for him. I told him that he could stay in the car for the 1.5 hours or he could come in to play, but that I was NOT taking him back to his car. He chose to come in, but then ended up sitting on a bench most of the time, leaving me to wrangle all 3 kids.

We get back in the car and he lets me know that he needs to go home. He doesn't feel well. Maybe he'll visit later, but he needs to go lie down. Thankfully the trio were making lots of noise in the back seat, so I took the opportunity to tell him what a special kind of ass he really is. I said "have you told your kids happy birthday? Because today IS their birthday and I haven't heard you tell them." He looked at me like a dear in headlights. I don't know if he forgot, or didn't care, or what, but he knew he had no excuse. I drove him back to his car, and before he got out he turned around and told them each happy birthday. We didn't see him the rest of the day.

I got home, did naptime and then let them open their presents when they woke up. They had cupcakes after dinner and I sang them happy birthday by myself, while I held back the tears. The fucker wasn't even there to SING. And he didn't even get them a present. Not a coloring book even. Nothing. I reminded him weeks before and he told me he didn't know what to get them. I told him if that was the case then I would be grateful if he gave me even a bit of money for the presents that I bought for them. I got nothing. THEY got nothing. Bastard.

A few nights ago, he was over and told me he was leaving (earlier than normal). I asked why, not that I cared, but I was curious. He said "there's preoccupied with TV, I'm not getting any quality time." "CREATE some quality time. Engage them. PLAY with them." Good GOD, it may not be the most entertaining for HIM, but it is NOT hard to play with 2 and 3 year olds. Be a fucking DAD.

That is my status quo. I realize I post mostly negative things here, but honestly, there's not alot good. Two nights ago he called me to let me know that one of my favorite movies was on TV. I was shocked. It was honestly one of the nicest things he's done for me in months (or longer).

Tuesday, October 1, 2013

Long time, no see.

Things have been pretty status quo. Nothing too outside of the norm (for us). Today, though, this morning anyway, was bad for me. I just suddenly got SO overwhelmed with the thought that I am the sole caretakers for my children. If they need something in the middle of the night, I get up. If they need to go to the dr, I take them. If they pee in the floor, I clean it up. It's all me.

S is dealing with asthma issues (and hives). She gets one liquid meds 3x a day, another liquid med 1x a day, 1 pill a day, plus multiple puffs of multiple inhalers 2x a day. C is a teething mess. A is her usual clingy, high maintainance self, " 'old me, mama, 'old me." It's hard. When there's no one else to give them meds, or comfort, or just HOLD, it's ridiculously hard, and it all came crashing down this morning.

I was exhausted when I woke up, was late to get in the shower. My lateness usually cues chaos for the rest of the three, b/c then I'm hurrying them around. Got all 3 up and ready to go, only to discover that the twins both pooped. Change them, get them all in the car, to realize that S needed a head band, and one of her meds. Run back in, get everything, spill the medicine down my arm. "Oh, for God's sake." "What do you mean by that, mommy?" :-/ Tears were RIGHT there, but didnt come. Get to daycare, only to see that C only had one ONE shoe. The other was not in the car. He lost it somewhere between the front door and the car. Great. Luckily, daycare had an extra pair, but he needed socks. So, he spent the day running around in an extra pair of S's pink socks.

Most days, I could laugh about it, but not today.  Before finding out that daycare had an extra pair of shoes, I was literally standing in the middle of the room fighting tears like a two year old, feeling quite ok with just letting them flow.

Enough already. Someone needs to cut me some slack. I shouldn't have to deal with this on my own. What in the hell did I do in a previous life to prove that I can handle this amount of stress? Because I can't. I'm short with my kids, I just want to hole up in bed and not come out for a long, long time. But then, the guilt kicks in and I sit down and put on a happy face and try to engage my children in something fun.