Keeping it real. Undercover and Unseen

A Never Ending Ride

My life as a roller coast. Yes, a roller coaster. It’s a pretty common analogy, but in my case it’s like one of those where you’re pretty sure you’re not gonna make it to the end.

The post prior to this one was a bit cryptic and dark. And it’s all true. There is more truth to fill in the blanks for a full understanding of my life, the roller coaster.

Here it is boiled down to the basics.

  1. My husband is an alcoholic. In denial and living his disease every single day.
  2. My husband suffers from major depression.
  3. My husband suffers from borderline personality disorder.
  4. My husband suffers from PTSD.

If it were only the first item, I’d get off the ride before it could make another round. That’s a no brainer. When we got married he was not an alcoholic. Our marriage wasn’t perfect by a long shot. There was infidelity (by him), which we overcame and our life seemed to be turning around. A new house, a promotion. We were at our best. Then things ramped up in 1994 when he was involved in a suicide by cop incident.

Our life continued, but I didn’t know we had boarded a ride that was still climbing toward a summit that would plummet us into the fearful unknown and a deep darkness. Alcoholism can sneak up on you. It’s not like one day he drank a couple of beers on the weekends and then a week later he was blackout drunk every day thereafter. No. It was a beer or two, a drink or two at a time over time.

There was something dark and insidious in his past. He alluded to it at one point, but later brushed it off. Beer was a regular resident in the fridge, then he found “good whiskey” and things really started moving. A trip to a neighboring town to play in a poker tournament landed him in jail for DUI. As a cop, he suffered the embarrassment and then he had to begin dealing with why. That’s when we tipped over the edge of the precipice.

A lawyer, a counselor and a horrific revelation and a new mistress, “vodka”, and it all spiraled him into the darkest depression and the heaviest, most dangerous drinking. He isolated and secluded himself by either locking himself in the guest room or staying in our camper at the storage lot. After months and months of this he finally revealed to me he had been molested as a child. You add killing another human and you get PTSD from both incidents and a diagnosis of other mental health issues then you stir in a whole lotta booze and it’s a wonder he survived.

His alcoholism is a side-effect of his mental health problems. I know that. I’ve built fences that keep me safe emotionally, but my fences have weak points. When he shows signs of improvement, a section gets knocked down. As soon as this happens, every time, he spirals down again as soon as he let’s me in and I allow my fence to weaken. Every time.

I love him and I know he needs me. If it were only the booze it would be so much easier, but it’s not. If you’ve read any of my posts you know our daughter Sassy is a big part of this. I know I need to shield her because like all drunks, he is an ass when he’s drinking. She is old enough now, she is aware of what is going on.

My quandary is so multifaceted, it’s like a diamond and just as hard.

  • He needs support, but he needs to face his demons and get better.
  • Leaving him means visitations and I don’t trust him to take care of her alone since his drinking is worse when I’m not around.
  • He has friends in high places. I don’t think he would every play this card, and I think he would agree to supervised visitations if it came to that.
  • 32 years of marriage.
  • When he’s good he’s really good. A good husband, father, friend, provider.
  • Love him
  • Hate him
  • Know how he is once he commits to something. Like a pit bull; latched on and won’t let go. (Yes the booze is his pit bull now)
  • Sassy would be better away from him.
  • Sassy would suffer being away from him.
  • If I’m being honest here, embarrassment and shame. I’d feel more hypocritical than I already do.
  • Etc. Etc. Etc.

I’m committed to the marriage, to the relationship, but realistically when he found whiskey, they became marginalized. When he found vodka, they became ghosts.

My roller coaster has taken me down many teeth shattering curves, death defying drops, dark seemingly endless tunnels and it continues. It never rolls into the station to disembark and find go home. I keep waiting. Sometimes I change track and ride a kiddie version, but it’s still rattling and jarring.

The ride goes on and I can’t decide where, when or if I should get off.

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Jason Mraz’s I Won’t Give Up has spoken (shouted) at me since he released it and it fits quite well.

 

He drinks.
He drinks.
He drinks.

Sassy confesses her fear and hate for Daddys drinking.

He drinks.
He drinks.
He drinks.

Sassy reveals a scary camping trip with Daddy when he drank so much he threw up.

He drinks.
He drinks.
He drinks.

Five years of excuses. Five years of hope. Five years of tolerance. Five years of worry.

He drinks.
He drinks.
He drinks.

When do I finally say ENOUGH!!
But
Is it better to stay and be in control of his contact with her? Is it better to leave and hope a court system will recognize how messed up he’s become and award supervised? ‘Cause if they don’t and I leave HOW IN THE FUCKING HELL DO I PROTECT HER THEN??

He drinks.
He drinks.
He drinks.

I’m lost. I’m scared. I’m confused. I’m worried. I’m angry.

Tomorrow. Will it be clearer then?

Conflicted and angry

My 9 year old, Sassy, is at the end of her Fourth Grade year. I didn’t think it possible but this year has been the toughest one for her so far and not for the reason you may think. Or maybe you do. I don’t know.

Our school is a very small, and very young parochial school. There is one section for each grade. Sassy has had the same classmates for five years. Minor changes with kids moving and a couple of new students. We chose this school because she has better education opportunities for the very smart kid she is.

She’s a good student. Great in fact. Very smart although a bit stubborn when it comes to doing homework and having me or the hubs check it over before she turns it in. She’s kind and compassionate and needs to have a person. Problem is the little girl in her class who proclaimed in Kindergarten she was her best friend. This little “Bee” has made it her life goal to turn Sassy’s life upside down. The BFF status was short lived but left a deep mark on my kid. Since half way through Kindergarten, the Bee has built up then slammed down my sweet girl. She makes sure if Sassy is building a friendship with another girl, Bee will step in and “steal” the friend or turn the friend against her.

We began 4th grade with high hopes of the winds of change with two new girls in Sassy’s class. Turns out one of the girls is a mean girl in her own right and Sassy had two Bee’s to deal with this year. Bee2 decided on her own she didn’t like my girl so she started fabricating stories to tell her mom and getting Sassy into trouble. Rather than deal with the issue head on the solution was to tell the girls to “stay away from each other”. Well that’s just frickin’ great! Now who the heck is Sass suppose to play with? She was relegated to an area near whomever was the playground monitor at recess. Sounds like a boat load of fun! Right???

Bee2 eventually backed off until Bee1 decided they should be friends and things went from bad to worse to down right ugly. These two girls single handedly turn Sassy’s entire class against her. Name calling, tattling on her for things she didn’t do and she became completely alienated. I am crying through anger, sadness and frustration because I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO!

A few weeks ago, we went in to visit with the principal. I know, beat me with a wet noodle, I should have gone in long before, but there was communication from the teacher who was giving me seemingly reasonable solutions (that were obviously not working). I finally hit my limit and we scheduled the sit down. The principal was reassuring and told me she was recently brought into the picture and was very sympathetic to Sassy’s plight. She wants to work toward a new attitude next school year for all of the girls because the girl on girl meanness is further reaching than the 4th grade class. So, my goal was to hold my kid tight, love her and affirm her for the few remaining weeks of this school year.

Then yesterday happened. She came home in tears and completely mortified. One of the boys (the school liar) and a different girl told her she was gay. It was a total set up. The boy asked her if she liked Bee3 and Sass said yes. Immediately he sniggered and told her she was gay to which Bee3 wholeheartedly agreed.

I have a strong desire to confront the mothers of these two students and any other mother of any other student who crosses my kids path. But the restrained, and maybe reasonable side of me tells me that could open a whole new can of worms that with far worse consequences for Sassy and for me.

I’m compiling some information for the principal and am hoping we can implement some specific anti-bullying program or programs in our school. Yesterday a fellow blogger shared a link to Finding Kind. This is a campaign started by two young women who themselves experienced mean girls. They have produced a documentary and offer school assemblies and screenings of their film.

I am truly sick by what is happening to Sassy. Have you experienced anything like this and what did you do? What would you do?

I am the Toilet Paper penitent.

I came by this lowly existence in the bathroom largely due to Sassy’s early toddler attempts  at learning to “wipe” and using vast amounts of TP, plugging the toilet on numerous occasions causing hubs to develop the acid in the face demeanor.

I felt I had an obligation to make up for the incredible waste (no pun intended) being perpetrated in our home. I began purchasing super toilet paper, also known as Charmin Ultra Strong.

I have mastered the knowledge of how many squares it takes to adequately wipe for Number One and Number Two. It came as a necessity to avoid the plugged toilet syndrome. Three squares for Number One. Three, two, two, for Number Two.

In order to atone for the overuse of TP, occasionally I relegate myself to two squares for Number One every time for an entire day. This makes up for quite a few “wipes” and waste perpetrated by Sassy.

Stupid. Right? I know! Good God like I don’t have anything else to worry about!

I guess it’s my way of being able to have some control over something that goes on under this roof. God knows everything else is

In. The. Toilet.

Pun most definitely intended.

The Homework Drama Vortex

I am tired.

I am fed up.

I need a vacation.

The drama running rampant in this house is pushing me to the brink and I feel like I’m going to blow. Sassy is being a drama queen about EVERYTHING in her nine year old life and hubs reacts like acid has been poured over his face.

Last night it was homework. Sassy claimed she didn’t know how to do tree style division (they’ve only been working on this all school year). Something was wrong with her ears because she could not hear my voice and something was wrong with her vocal chords as well because the only thing I could hear was an octave that was giving me a headache. Since she was rendered deaf by the sound of my voice I grabbed her workbook and headed downstairs to give hubs a chance to have a crack at it. I was followed down the stairs by that head splitting noise emitting from Sassy.

The first reaction upon looking at the sheet she was working on was. YELLING. It all came out of immediate acid burns (in his mind anyway) and the criticism was harsh and uncalled for. This continued while I stood by and the noise built in my head. I felt like a string from the tip of my pinky toe was being pulled up through the tip top of my head. I was getting tighter and tighter. Sassy stormed upstairs and I headed toward hubs and began an angry whisper discussion about the track this had taken. I tried to make the point that he started by yelling and criticizing and bluntly told him he was being mean.

His reaction? Like a child HE stormed off to the bedroom to pout. Really? Who is being the adult here? I started to walk away but turned and went in for more. Angry and pulled up so tight I was in danger of letting loose like  a busted bungee cord. I knew this had to be resolved so Sassy could get her homework done. I’m a mad crier and the tears were stabbing at my eyes but I was determined to get my message across without the angry cry face and voice. Setting my jaw I told him plainly we had to find a way to help her with homework. If I can’t get through then he needs to try without the anger which leads to the extra drama. (She was working on math; my weak area – he is much better at this) I headed upstairs to Sassy and she was still wailing. I calmly told her to go wash her face and wipe her nose and go back downstairs and finish her homework.

Hubs finally came out and helped her. After the dust settled she had her homework done and both of them were friends again. He talked to her (calmly) about needed to listen when we are trying to show her mistakes and she needs to quit throwing out the “My teacher said” card when we know the teacher did not teach her to do it wrong.

I could go on about the extraordinary amount of drama that surrounds Sassy’s world but I would venture into the thousands of words post if I did that. I’ll quit at the homework drama that created a vortex that sucked in the parental units and save more drama for another day.

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This is my inaugural linky post and it kinda sucks I’m breaking the cherry with a whine post. This is also the beginning of a new blog for me. I’m already a blogger but I needed a home where I could rant or be honest anonymously. This blog is NOT for my personal FB and Twitter. I’ll be sharing with the ether and bloggers only with the hope of finding kindred souls who have” been there done” that or “are there doing that”.

Pour Your Heart Out for me this week is a venting rant. I hope you understand.

It’s not all whine in my world I promise.

And Then it Begins

A new start. A new place.

Open

Real

Honest

It should be interesting.