Slow Process….

The month of May has been a slow healing process for my family.  I don’t remember the day that I let Scott come home for some reason, but I did let him come home.  Scott is a different man and is following the path of sobriety.  He is working his steps and I know he is different this time.  I am working my steps and I am different as well.  There has not been one voice raised argument.  We argue, we disagree, but it hasn’t happened infront of our children.  Scott gets mad, he gets downright pissed and so do I, but we are resolving our disagreements.  Life is different.  But it is a very slow process.  I am letting go of yesterday and focusing on the right now.  I repeat to myself daily in all situations, I didn’t cause it, I can’t change it, I can’t control it.  Oddly this gives me extreme comfort and I find that I am slower to anger in almost all of my life dealings.  Counseling helps.  Group meetings help. Being silent and listening instead of running my mouth and letting my thoughts run rampant while people  are talking helps.

I can honestly say all of this had little to no effect on my darling little boy Connor, he is so young he just rolled with the punches.  Sophia had huge set backs and huge emotional trauma and we are learning how to deal with that and trying to ensure that this does not have a lasting effect on her.  She is slowing coming back into her own and it breaks my heart that Scott and I both put her through this.  But it was a necessary evil to getting Scott where he needed to be.

Then there is the issue of our families…

I have always been a little uneasy around Scott’s Dad, Stepmom, Brother, and Brother’s wife.  I have always felt as though their accusing eyes were scrutinizing me and blaming me for all that was wrong with Scott.  This is partially my fault as I would run to them for help.  I was too prideful to go to my own family as I just couldn’t bear admitting to my family that I had chosen poorly a second time.  I couldn’t bear the thought of letting my daddy be disappointed in me or allowing my mother to cast her judgemental eyes on me yet one more time and giving her yet one more reason to be disgusted by me!  In conclusion I have decided it is time to write letters here to my mom, Scott’s Dad & Leslie, and lastly to Craig & Dana….  My beast of a mother is first.

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Karen: (That’s correct you have lost the title of Mother and this is why)

My life changed the day I gave birth to my daughter.  I learned what it was to love someone more than myself.  I learned what unconditional love is, this strengthened my faith in God.  I knew what it was like to be a mom.  You always told me I would understand ______when I was older or you will understand _______when your a mother.  You are right I understand a lot of things I didn’t understand before motherhood.

I know you believe that I am angry with you over Easter and that I am just being petty, bitter, and angry and withholding your grandkids from you out of spite.  You could not be more wrong in your thinking.  I think it is only fair that I explain in grave detail to you what you have done and why I will no longer allow your negativity to affect and control my life or for the claws of that negativity to reach out and snag my children causing them to feel as though they are less.

Back in February you kept the kids for a weekend.  When Scott and I came to pick the kids up you mad a very clear point of how you would not be watching the kids again in front of your neighbor in your driveway.  You glared at me, had hate in your voice, and said I WILL NOT BE WATCHING THOSE KIDS AGAIN EVER, THIS IS THE LAST TIME!!!! I AM EXHAUSTED!!!!  This statement and hate in and of itself is fine.  But you did it infront of your 4 year old grand daughter who doesn’t understand that it isn’t because you don’t love her, but because it is too much for you.  She cried the entire way home and for the 2 hours before she went to bed that Gammy was mad at her and Gammy didn’t love her.  You HURT my child.  I know that your anger was directed at me as you feel I took advantage of you, but she is 4 and she didn’t know that, and she was HURT by YOU. You were beyond wrong to do that to my child and I will not allow you to cause her pain.

On March 20th my world and the world of my family imploded.  My children and I have lived through a hell that I allowed us to endure, I am going to have a very hard time forgiving myself for what I allowed to go on for years inside my home with my husband.  I realize that me not telling you and dad ever step of the way about the physical and mental abuse we endured makes it very difficult for you to understand or believe.  But until you have been beaten by your husband you can’t imagine the shame and embarrassment that goes along with that. Admitting that to someone who has always treated you as if you were less is not something I was able to do.  We have never been friends.  I have never been able to come to you with my problems.  So why would I come to you with any of what I was going through?

I will forever be grateful for the fact that you and dad took Scott into your home.  That you provided him with love and guidance as he began his journey to recovery.  This gift that you gave to him and ultimately to my family is priceless.  I will always be thankful for it.  But here is the rub Karen and it is a big huge giant rub that I will never be able to forgive you for….You judged me, you convicted me without ever asking me, and then you tried to put my children in danger.

You were angry with me over my cruelty to you about Easter.  Yes I was cruel, I was angry, I was wrong to say some of the things I said to you.  I can admit when I am wrong.  Can you? I doubt it.  Going to my husband who is a junkie and an alcoholic and telling him about my facebook page and how there are pictures of me with all these men and that you think I am cheating on him and he should print it all off and use it in court against me to get custody of my children was the lowest thing that you as a mother could do to me your child.  It doesn’t matter if I cheated.  What matters is that you were my mother.  You do not have to agree with anything I say, anything I do.  You can be downright disgusted by my lifestyle and my choices.  But you are my mother and it is your job to love me unconditionally in spite of anything I have done or anything I will do.  I do not care if any of your friends are questioning you about me and what I am doing.  I do not care if this causes you embarrassment.  This does not give a get out of jail free card.  You have an issue with my life then you come to me and yell and scream at me that you didn’t raise me that way.  You do not go to my husband, the coke head, the alcoholic, the man who beat your and choked your 4 year old grand daughter and try and give him tools to get custody of my children!!!  Have you LOST YOUR FUCKING MIND??!!! Being a mother myself I know that there is nothing that either of my children could do that would make me love them any less.  There is nothing they could do that would make me be less of a momma bear about protecting them.  There is nothing that would cause me to choose someone else over them.  Especially what you did.  I am a good mother. The fact that Scott loves his kids has never been a question in my mind, I would not keep the kids from Scott, unless Scott was high or drunk.  So your “reasoning” is so flawed.

This is just the final straw in a long list of wrongs and hurts you have done to me in my 37 years of being your daughter.  I guess this straw broke the camels back because you were not thinking of my children, my husband, or myself.  You were thinking about getting even with me.  I was cruel and you thought you would one up me and cause grief in my life.

You will never again have the opportunity to harm me or my children.  I will not keep Sophia from you, simply because she loves you and she would not understand that I was doing it for her and in the long run she would resent me for it.  However, you will never be alone with my child again and the moment you step out of line I will be removing her from your presence.  We will not be visiting you on your birthday, on mothers day as celebrating you is on the very bottom of my list of things to do.  You will be included on Sophia’s birthday and on Connor’s birthday, these events are at my home, you will be an invited guest and you will behave as such or you will be asked to leave.

I have spent the last 17 years trying to build a relationship with you.  I managed to build a beautiful one with my father and we are very close.  You know as well as I do that dad doesn’t approve of everything I do, but you now what Karen, he respects me enough to talk to me about it rather than run around behind my back and bad mouth his daughter to other people.  I am done extending the olive branch to you and allowing you to beat the hell out of me with it.  I can’t control you, I can’t change you, and I sure as hell did not cause you to be the bitter judgemental bitch you have turned into.

I know that one day I will regret that you and I didn’t have a beautiful relationship that I see a lot of mother and daughters out there have.  I am so jealous of those women. Maybe if we had I would trust women more and I would have healthy friendships with women and not surround myself with a loving group of male friends.  This is truly what causes you and your friends to question my relationships is that they are men.  I know that when you are on your death bed and I don’t come you will regret that you didn’t love your daughter the way you were supposed to.  That maybe it will cross your mind that you should have forgiven more, judged less, maybe said I love you too, when your daughter said it first, maybe just once you should have said I am proud of you.

I can hear you now saying what have you ever done that I should have been proud of…..Here is a list Karen that if you hadn’t been so busy judging me on, that should have made you proud….

I graduated in the top 10% of my class from high school——Oh but I had the wrong friends and I wasn’t a cheerleader so that doesn’t count.

I graduated from college (the first one in our family) —— Oh but that doesn’t count either because I didn’t leave college married to a frat boy

I became a mom twice!!!!

I worked and supported my family while putting my husband through college for 5 years —— Oh but that doesn’t count because Scott worked some minimum wage paying job that brought home a 1/4 of what I brought home, his salary covered his drug and alcohol habit.

I stood up for my children when they were abused ——– yeah I didn’t learn to do that from you that is for damn sure, you can’t even admit what your family did to me!

I expect that you will be so angry by this that you will not be able to see that whether or not you agree with what I am saying this is how what you did made me feel.  It doesn’t matter if I am wrong in my thinking, it doesn’t matter what your intentions were, what matters is how I took it and how it caused me and my children to feel.  I suggest you keep this letter and read over it often as the weeks, months, and years tick by and I am absent from your life.  When you wonder why doesn’t my daughter call, why doesn’t she visit me, why doesn’t she care?  This letter will be your answer.  My life is not too busy for you.  I am not so involved with my children and their activities.  It is an active choice to not see you.  I do not like you.  The venom of bitterness that radiates out from you is not something that I care to be around.  I will not allow that poison to drip from you onto me and my children.  It dripped on you from your mother and you soaked it up like a sponge.  I will not be poisoned by you the pattern of abuse will end with you.

 

The Hustle & Bustle of a Control Freak

I make life hard.  Whether it is work, home life, time with friends ect….  I have to be in control.  I think this stems from being hurt in my childhood by my mother and her her mother.  I was a child and had no control, I got hurt.  I learned as I got older that if I controlled the situation I would not get hurt.  This led to trust issues. I am like time life magazine I swear issues upon flipping issues.

My days are so crammed packed full of shit that I am running and gunning from 3:30AM till around 9PM Monday thru Friday and the weekends start around 5:30AM.  It is primarily my fault.  I love to workout, refuse to miss it and I focus on 2 a day workouts Monday thru Friday, yoga in the AM for an hour and weight and cardio in the evenings for an hour.  I love what it is doing for me, physically and mentally.  It brings a calmness and confidence to my life that has been seriously lacking.

At work I am in a high level executive position.  I love what I do. LOVE IT.  The problem is my inability to delegate and trust that someone else will get down what I need to have done and that it will be done properly under the time constraints.  I give the work out, cause I have to there are people under me who need to do more than play on a computer all day to earn a check.  But I constantly go over every little thing they do, so I might as well just do all the work myself, because I don’t trust it is correct and if it is not correct it reflects poorly on me.  Why can’t I trust these people when 90% of the time it is perfect anyway???

At home I demand perfection out of my yard, my garden, the cleanliness of my shower to bedroom and every inch inbetween.  It as if I am almost compulsive about it.  I can’t sit down and relax until every inch of the house is in order and cleaned.  I literally start to twitch thinking that there is dog hair on the floors!  The kids make their messes, which is fine, I just clean it all up with their help before their bedtimes.

For whatever reason I just can’t let anything go.  I realize this is something Scott and I always argued about.  Him sitting on the couch doing nothing and me doing everything.  When I would get angry and complain, he would get angry right back and yell, “why should I even fucking bother, it won’t be your way so it will be wrong so whats the fucking point!!!”  He was right.

The point is I am tired.  I need a break. A chance to kick my feet up and relax.  I want to go float the river in New Braunfels.  I want to do this with friends.  Been talking about it for weeks with some friends.  Everyone’s schedules are not matching up and I want to see all my boys in SA and make them come too.  Then there is the money issue, all this shit with Scott has taken a toll on my finances. I am so not paying for a hotel, the inlaws river house is surely not an option.  The house I usually flop at has a recently added girl friend who won’t understand who I am. I have been planning and planning but none of it is coming together…soon. One day soon I am taking three days, abandoning mother hood and getting lost in a black tube on an icy river!

37 Years Old Today!

We all have a past that created who we are today.  We can stew and brew over the evil awful things in our lives and hold resentments.  We can dwell in the despair.  Whatever your worst moment is can’t be compared to mine as I your worst is the worst you have ever known, just like mine is the worst I have every known.  They are equal in the torment and turmoil they caused in each of our lives.

I have spent years dwelling, filled with hatred and bitterness. I have resented and blamed.  I have made poor choices because I let someone else define who and what I was and I spent my days seeking out approval in the wrong forms from the wrong people.  I based my self worth on men and what they thought of me.  I based my self worth on what I could give to others, never once seeing that the people that I had surrounded myself with were users who cared nothing for me they only cared about what they could get from me.  I gave all I had and would do without just to see my “friends” have what they wanted, never seeking anything in return.  Dropping everything and running to their aide when they needed me.  I martyred myself, not realizing I was doing it, trying to seek approval and love.  I was always blown away and stood in shock and in awe when anyone did anything for me.

I am done with all of that.

Today, the anniversary of my birthday, I am going to be reborn.  Reborn into the woman I want to be.  I am stopping my enabling.  I am going to fatten my bank account and stop “buying” friends.  I am going to control my emotions.  I am not going to let anyone else dictate how I feel, how I react, or who I am.  I have done a lot of my “honest inventory of self”  I am not to that step yet, but it is the one that fascinates me and I am most eager to get there.

Here is what I have learned…

I am beautiful on the inside and on the outside.  I look at people and I see the good that dwells in each and everyone that I look at.  I am insanely drawn to people who are rough around the edges, that most would not see as beautiful, I am drawn to them because I want to show them their beauty.  It is selfishly motivated that in by showing them that I think they are beautiful they will love and adore me because noone else has shown them their beauty.  But this doesn’t make me less.

Im a very strong independent woman.  But that doesn’t mean I don’t need someone to take my hand and guide me through life and be my partner.  What it means is I need someone who is STRONGER than me, someone I can trust to take the reins, and someone who will love and cherish my independence, someone who will know that my running and gallivanting is just me being me and they will appreciate my free spirit!

I am a good mother.  I am loving, kind, and gentle with my children.  On the other hand I am hard and stern when I need to be.  I respect their individuality and I do not expect perfection from them, I just expect them to do their best at whatever it is they are going after.  Even if what they are going after is convincing me that cookies for super is a good idea, give it their best shot!  Maybe I will give in with the right argument!

I am a good friend.  I listen, I advise, I don’t judge, I don’t bad mouth you, no matter what you may do to me.  I try and put myself in your shoes and understand.  I accept you with all your flaws and I love you inspite of yourself once you enter into my friend zone.  I will fight to the death for you, you are my friend.

I sound perfect don’t I??  I’m not.

I expect perfection out of my partner.  How unfair is that? I am demanding.  I am lazy.  I refuse to take care of my partner. Yet I expect them to accept my imperfections, be understanding and strive to keep the house perfect….

 

Why am I so understanding to my friends and not my husband.

Today I am making changes.  I will be who I want to be and strip away all the negative.  Like the Phoenix I will rise from my own ashes reborn!

 

Train Wreck

I spend most of my time going 900 miles an hour balls to the wall all out until I fall down.  A buddy of mine told me I am like a bull, stubborn and tough, too hard headed to know that I’ve been on my ass before I jump up and start running head first back through the same door that knocked me on my ass.  I hear from my friends all the time how strong I am.  Is this just something we say to people when they are going through tough times?  I have never told anyone they were weak.  I have always said you are strong you will be okay.  So am I really strong or is this just what we tell people?

My days start before 4 am, I rush through the morning like a mad woman getting the kids ready, rush to daycare, then fly with my foot slammed to the floor all the way to work.  I rush through my work.  I fly out the door the second the clock hits 4 and fly to the gym, fly to daycare, fly home, rush through dinner, baths, and chores, and fall down at 8:45 and read to Sophia everynight before we fall asleep in each others arms with her nestled into my neck.  It is hard. But I am keeping up with everything and the kids are used to the modified schedule.  But I feel like a train wreck inside…

I find my voice raised and yelling and threatening the kids more than I ever have.  My patience does not exist. This is not good.  Sophia is behaving so much better than she ever did with Scott at home, so why am I yelling at her?  Why am I frustrated when she dilly dallies??  Why am I losing my cool with this sweet angel child that is just as kind and loving as a child can be???  Connor is just Con, he is fine, he is so laid back and chill, nothing pahses him, and he can’t get himself ready so I have no frustration there as he is not at an age to do much of anything besides shit his pants on his own.  But when Sophia wont get dressed, wont brush teeth, wont do whatever the hell it is I am asking of her my temper rages.  I start yelling and cussing.  It isn’t right.  I need to chill out and relax, but I am finding that increasingly difficult the more on my own I am.

It’s Not as Easy as I Thought…

I bragged yesterday about how I was doing this, how I got this, how it is amazingly not going to poorly!  Yesterday was a failure.  Had I not opened my mouth, had I just kept quiet maybe yesterday would have been okay!!  Everything was okay until 6PM hit and it hit hard!

Work was fine.  I was finally able to focus and ignore the interruptions throughout the day.  I hit the gym at 4:45 just on time right on schedule and I killed it.  Topped my best time on a mile run and my best time on the 4 miles.  I rushed to get the kids and that is where the slip began.  It was raining, I had promised Sophia a trip to the park, but it was raining and she started to whine.  I explained we couldn’t go in the rain and excitedly told her that Papa was coming with Daddy to take her and Connor on an Easter Egg Hunt on Saturday, to give me a break.  My dad will be the supervisor in the supervised visitation I have agreed to.  This was the wrong thing to say to Sophia as it started a meltdown that refused to rivaled by any previous meltdown.  Sobbing, trembling, shaking, screaming I miss my daddy!  When I got to Connor’s school I asked Sophia if she would like to call and talk to daddy, she did want, so I called him on my phone, gave her the phone and left her locked in the car to talk while I scooped up Con man.

When I returned to the car she was worse.  She cried and cried and cried some more.  When I got to the house, got the kids inside it was 6:15.  I hurried through making dinner, folding a load of laundry and sweeping and mopping the floor while the kids ate.  At 7 I had them both in the bath, just a tad behind schedule but no biggie, I left them to play while I gathered trash, laid out clothes, made lunches for the next day, and washed the dinner dishes.  I got Con man out and ready for bed by 7:30, Got Sophia out and ready for bed at 7:45.  I hoped my self in the shower and let the day wash away and got myself ready for bed.  Then I realized I hadn’t packed the car, I hadn’t fed the dog all day, I hadn’t returned the 50 calls or e-mails all from concerned friends and family, Sophia got up crying wanting to snuggle, but I couldn’t end my day yet and I snapped at her which set off a new round of tears. I was up till after 10 tying loose ends off.  My bed time is 8:30, yes I know its early, but I get up every day at 3:45AM, I need my bedtime!!!!!!!

I overslept this morning which led to me being snappy and just downright nasty to the kids.  Noone likes to have their day started off by being yelled at and that is what I did to my kids. I’m a morning person, but I totally lost it on them this morning, yelling and screaming as if it were their faults we were running late. I cried in the car on the way to their school, I hugged them both tight and told them mommy was very very naughty and very very sorry for being so ugly to them, that mommy was just stressed and scared.  Sophia in all her 4 year old wisdom hugged me back and said, “its ok momma, sometimes I have hissy fits too.”  I couldn’t help but giggle at her wisdom.

I’m tired of pretending I’ve got this all under control. I don’t. I am scared.  I feel so very alone.  What if Scott doesn’t get better?  What if _______?? So many what ifs!!

Awhile back a dear buddy of mine told me that I deserve a man that wants to take care of me, whether I need to be taken care of or not wasn’t important, but knowing that I deserved someone WANTING to was the point.  This touched my heart and made me smile inside because I have never felt I deserved that.  I have never felt as though I alone was good enough.  I always felt that my giving and taking care of made up for me not being good enough for me being damaged.  The truth is I am damaged.  I don’t need anyone to take care of me, I can take care of me all on my own as long as I am not having to take care of someone else that is a grown ass adult along the way.

I am still working on the Let Go and Let God…So, God, if your reading this, I hear you, It is all yours big guy.  Stop throwing shit at me, I turn it all over to you, let your will be done through me, give me the strength to stay the course, to be patient with my children, and please God PLEASE heal my soul and give me the strength to forgive myself and know that I am forgiven and that I am not damaged!

Letting Go and Letting God….

I am struggling with the concept of this step in Al- Anon.  I do not know how to let go and let God.  I have been praying a lot.  I have been deciding not to let the actions of others affect me.  I am doing my dead level best to remember the 3C’s, I didn’t Cause it, I can’t Change it, & I can’t Control it.  This is actually a very liberating thing for me as I am a fixer by nature.  You have a problem and I want to rush in like wonder woman, tell you what you need to do to fix the problem and then demand that you allow me to help! CONTROL CONTROL CONTROL.

No More.

Today I say I didn’t cause your problem.  You want my advice, then you have to ask for it.  It is then your choice whether or not you listen to the advice and do as I suggest. I can’t change or fix or control your circumstances, only you can do that.  As a friend I have to allow you to be accountable to yourself and realize that the only thing I can control is myself, what I do and how I react.  This I can handle.  I must constantly remind myself of this, but it is something I can do.

I talked to Scott last night and he said he thought he would be ready to come home on his birthday.  I was scared to tell him how I felt about this.  How he would react. How it would affect his recovery. I spoke carefully and concisely to him when I said, “I’m not sure I will be ready for you to come home then.”  He reacted in anger although I could tell he was holding back.  I told him, “this isn’t all about you Scott.”  “This is about me, about the anger and rage and hurt and betrayal of trust that I feel in my heart.”  “I have to heal me, I have to be able to let some of this go, to get over the pain that has been caused to our family before our home is a safe place for both of us to be.”  “I am not sure that a week and a half is adequate time for me.”  “If we don’t allow me this time to heal then nothing will change in our marriage and it will remain loveless and dysfunctional, I can’t and won’t allow that to happen because we will just end up right back here in a couple short months.”  “We both need this time to heal and I refuse to let you come back before I have healed.” He was angry.  But I feel as though he really heard me and understood me and understood the severity of what we are going through.  I repeatedly told him that what is supposed to happen will happen and that I had faith that we could restore our marriage, but I had to be allowed to heal first.

It felt really good to stand my ground.  To not come from a place of anger and be belittling to him to manipulate and control the situation.

For the very first time in my life I am putting myself and my needs first and I am taking care of me.  It feels so very foreign to me, it feels selfish.  But I am being taught that noone else is going to take care of me and the best way for me to take care of my kids and my family is to take care of myself first and trust that God will handle the rest and that his plan is bigger and better than me.

***********IN OTHER NEWS************

Crossfit is totally kicking my butt! I love my trainer Kristian, he is super hot, I could look at him for days, unfortunately when you are panting like a dog, cramping up so bad you are seeing stars, and having him yell at you that pain is just weakness leaving the body….you have very little ability to stare and ogle the eye candy before you!  I do love it! He will be a man-boy added to the list of men I love to hate!

Connor is turning into such a sweet angel boy and is finally beginning to really talk, at 19 months old I was worried when he wasn’t talking hardly at all as Sophia was forming complete sentences at 9 months!  He is a big big big helper, picking up his sister’s shoes and carrying them to her room, opening her closet and placing them on the shoe rack and then enthusiastically clapping like a mad man!  He is full of giggles, smiles, and wet open mouth bite kisses.  He has me wrapped completely around his little chubby fingers.

Sophia is having adjustment problems to daddy being gone.  She is whining more than usual and is completely attached to my hip and insisting on sleeping in my bed every night.  Honestly I don’t mind it as I too need snuggle time and who better to provide my snuggle time than the monkey with cookie breath!

We are falling into a routine that each day seems a tad bit easier.  Somehow I am finding the time to keep up with laundry, keep the house picked up, and make healthy meals for me and the kids (did I mention I cooked all day on Sunday so all I would have to do is pop these meals into the oven for 15 minutes and we would have healthy meals during the week ).  I am getting faster and faster at getting us out of the house in the morning and feeling less rushed and less on edge with the kids in the pre-dawn hours as we run through the house getting out the door.

There is a large sense of accomplishment that hit me last night as I snuggled down with Sophia, that I am doing this, I can do this, all on my own with not a single bit of help from anyone and I am still making it to the gym for that me time that allows the release of frustration and stress that I need so badly to take care of me!

The Explosion

For those of you who have read here for awhile there are not any of my old posts available.  They are locked up and hidden away for me as there is a fear of discovery of all my skeletons as I embark out into unknown territory.  As I read through them all some may make there way back into my archives. It has been months since I have been here, but it is time for me to heal and turning to journaling is something I have always done when life has become unmanageable.

It is time for me to admit I am powerless over alcohol and the alcoholic who has spread his disease through my family.  It is time that I let go and turn over my control to my higher power.  So what happened?  Well it’s kind of a blur and this will be long and winded but I have to get it all out…

I gave my last chance in December, through tears and promises and hope and ultimatums I believed that Scott and I were turning over a new leaf.  That we would get better, that he would become healthy.  That finally I would have the marriage and family I had always hoped and dreamed for. Just shy of 90 days we danced around his sobriety, him pretending and hiding the drinking and me pretending not to notice and hoping upon all hope that he was sober and that the next explosion was not just right around the corner.

On Tuesday, March 20th, my favorite day of the year, the first day of spring, the day of renewal and rebirth, the explosion happened….

Tuesday was an exciting day for me.  I had decided to join a crossfit gym and I was super stoked about my first personal training day.  I knew it was going to be tough to get there have my hour and then rush to pick up the kids all by 6 o’clock, but damnit I am super woman and I got this! I CAN DO THIS!!!

Crossfit was amazing.  I thought I was in good shape only to have my ass kicked by some smoking hot 20 something year old boy. I rushed from the gym to go get Sophia from school, I had 10 minutes to get both kids picked up, not a lot of time, but doable if the lights cooperated with me.  I ran into Sophia’s school to be met with she isn’t here, she got picked up in the car line when school let out at 3.  My mind raced. I started to lose it a little.  What do you mean she isn’t here????  I always pick her up here, it is Tuesday right????  Who picked her up??? My husband is at work!  Noone else has permission to pick her up!  Call the Police! Someone has kidnapped my child!!!  I am panicking trying to call Scott, 10 calls all go unanswered. I assume he is busy at work and his phone was haphazardly left in his car.  I call the restaurant.  I demand to be connected to Scott it is an emergency! I am told Scott is not there.  What do you mean he is not there?????  It is Tuesday right??? He works every Tuesday night??!!!  I am sorry, but Scott showed up to work highly intoxicated and we sent him home.  I flee from the school tears streaming down my face and break every traffic rule they ever thought about inventing to get to Connor’s school all the while praying please God let him still be there.  He isn’t there.  I continually call Scott, his brother, my sister in law, Scott’s dad….I am livid and wanting to kill Scott and praying that my children are home safe as it is pouring down rain and I have been told he was highly intoxicated at 2:30 and that my kids were picked up at 3:00.

I rush down our driveway thankful to see his truck in the drive with no visible damage. I take a few deep breaths as I walk through my back door.  The kids run to me as momma is home, Scott stumbles out of my bedroom and slurs, “heyyyybabbby” I glare at him over the top of our children’s heads.  I tell Sophia to take Connor to her room to play and as I hear her bedroom door close I turn on the man I have tried to fix for the past 6 years.  I point at the closet and I hear a far away voice say, “get all of your shit in that closet, put it in your car and get the fuck out of my house and don’t you even think of coming back here, I AM DONE!!!!!!”  Scott looks at me completely bewildered and slurs, “what did I do?” Here begins the argument where he declares he is not drunk and that he has not been drinking and that it is Wednesday and that is why he is home with the kids and I just have my days confused.  The drunk trying to confuse me, it is a game he always tries to play. It takes me an hour to get him out of the house, it gets physical, but I do get him out.

I call a buddy to come change my locks, he drops everything and comes.  While bathing the kids I notice that Sophia’s entire right butt cheek is black. I say, “Oh my Sofa, did you fall down at school??”  She turns to me with tears in her eyes and a quivering bottom lip and says, “No Momma, Daddy threw me on the bed and beat me hard…” I ask, “why would daddy do that baby?” She says, “because I was having a hissy fit.”

I am filled with rage. I say, “oh baby I am so sorry, I promise daddy will never ever be able to do that again, he didn’t mean to, daddy is just very very sick right now, momma sent him to the doctor to get better!”  I take photos of her butt, put her and Connor to bed and call the police.  I want him locked up for what he did to my first born.  Fuck what he has done to terrorize me, forget that he has laid hands on me, I am an adult and it is my fault for staying if he lays hands on me again, but my child is a CHILD, she is 4 years old, she has no say on if she stays or goes!  It is my job, my duty, my moral obligation, to protect her and ensure she grows up in a healthy happy safe environment!!!!!

The police come, they call CPS, they call the DA, all decline to press charges as the marks are on her butt and a spanking is to be on your butt. BULLSHIT!

At 4am drunk Scott showed up and tried to kick my door in, I called the police and he was promptly arrested for public intoxication.  That morning I tried to make everything as normal as possible with the kids.  I took them to school, I went to work and begrudgingly told my story to my bosses.  I left work and spent the day getting everything in order.

I got and order of protection preventing Scott from picking up the kids from school or coming within 200 feet of our home.  I took the order to both kids school and met with the directors and let them know the full situation.  I closed our joint bank account and took the money and opened a new account, as I was not paying to bail him out. I went to the grocery and bought all that we would need so that I would not have to be dragging 2 kids through the store….Then I went home and saw the truck.

I had no idea at 4 am why the cops asked if I wanted the truck towed.  When I left at 5:30 AM it was dark and I didn’t look at the truck, I was on auto pilot.  But in the bright day light I saw that Scott had hit something, he had torn the tire off the truck and scrapped all the way down the side of it, he drove home on the rim.  Now if anyone else had been driving that truck with sparks flying at 4AM they would have been pulled over.  They would have been arrested for DUI, but not my husband, he has luck on his shoulder big time!

I called his dad.  I called his brother.  Of course noone took my calls as I am just the lunatic wife who over dramatizes everything and had Scott arrested.  I personally love that one, I HAD HIM ARRESTED.  Had he not been doing anything wrong he would not have been arrested, all I did was call the police!!!!!!

My brother, who never calls, or when he calls only calls and talks long enough to vomit his day all over you and quickly get off the phone to another call, never asking how I am called and asked how I was doing.  When I told him, he started asking about the tire, is there a spare, is there a Jack, is there a tire tool…. I lost it.  I don’t fucking know Neal nor do I care, it isn’t my problem!!  He tells me to calm down, that he wants to know so he can come change the tire, because they will only keep Scott 24 hours and then Scott will be showing up for the truck and he wants him to be able to come get the truck and drive off and not bother me or the kids.

I love my brother with all my heart and soul.  I accept that we aren’t that close and that he doesn’t show love or affection in the ways that I wish he did.  But this act, this gesture floored me beyond belief. My brother was at my house within 15 minutes and he and my darling neighbor Steve struggled to get that tire changed.  It touched my heart and made me feel so loved and cared for.

At 9PM just as they were finishing Scott calls from a cab asking if his truck is still there, telling me he is coming home to get a shower.  I tell him his truck is there but he is not coming in the house, where would you like your keys??  He begins yelling and screaming at me and in the presence of my brother I feel strong and I feel at peace.  I calmly tell him no that Neal and Steve have changed his tire and that he can come get the truck and leave.  That I called his buddy and have made arrangements where he can stay there, but he is not welcome in my home.  Had my brother not been there I am not so sure I would have had the strength to stand behind my convictions.  I can’t express to my brother what he did or what that act of kindness he bestowed upon me and my kids that night meant to me.  But I think he knows.

The last week has been a blur of accusations slung at me from his family through him.  How this is all my fault.  That I always make bad decisions. That I let Scott drink.  That I got him arrested.  That I am to blame. Why would anyone make the alcoholic who caused all of this responsible??  Maybe the issue is that he has never been responsible or held accountable for his actions!!! For the past 6 years I have shielded our families from his addictions.  I have lied and covered for him. I forced him to finish school.  Hell I did half the work to get him through school, but somehow at the end of the day I am to blame.  Fuck That.

I did not Cause it. I can not Change it. I can not Control it…..