This blog is not FDA approved
I had a post written and ready to go for Black Box Warnings today. It was essentially a piece that I felt described my life with Avoidant Personality Disorder, I wasn’t completely happy with it but I couldn’t seem to write what I was, what I am feeling and dealing through these last few weeks. I knew I was putting myself in the line of fire and opening up things I maybe couldn’t deal with sharing under the level of emotional stress I am under at the moment by asking Eric if I could do this now, but I feel I need to do this now. So for better or worse … I wrote what I’m dealing with now.
My older daughter’s graduation from high school was two weekends ago, her party was this past weekend. For me, as her Mother, the one who raised her, these were two of the most important weeks of my life. Not only did my Daughter deserve to celebrate this moment, I deserved to as well.
I developed an intense case of insomnia a few weeks prior to her Graduation, I was jumpy, anxious, having spurts and sprouts of depression forming. It wasn’t until a few days before her graduation that I figured out why. I was worried my Husband, a recovering alcoholic almost at the year mark and now suffering from depression due to a severe back injury and lack of work, would not come to his step-daughter’s graduation. I was worried that my Father, who while being treated for bipolar disorder for the last 20 years still has depressive moments and was in one the week before the graduation, would not go. And honestly, even with 20 years of treatment and not a single manic episode in all those years, I still get jumpy when he acts not quite himself.
I was angry that my sister chose to walk away from this family and not just missing her older niece’s graduation, but missing the last three years of her life. I was infuriated and hurt that she would choose the life she lived and leave me to this shitty world without her. I was heartbroken all over again because I forgot to remember not to think about her. I have not seen or heard from her in three years. I assume she is still not only alive, but also not in prison solely because no one has informed me otherwise. She also has bipolar disorder among a list of other disorders that she prefers to self-medicate with drugs, alcohol, and abusive relationships. She took off three years ago, at this exact time, a couple of days after my Son’s graduation party.
I was thoroughly pissed thinking about my Husband’s family cutting me out, thereby not only cutting out their own flesh and blood granddaughter and never getting to know her but also hurting my older children by no longer caring about them or including them as part of my Husband’s family as they were when we were first together 13 years ago. I was pissed all over again that they decided I caused their son/brother/cousin to mysteriously turn into a 24/7 alcoholic. I was keeping him from being part of his “real” family by using my children and our child together as a manipulative tool against him. I was pissed, am pissed, that this is another group of people who should have been here for my daughter’s milestone of graduation.
Yeah. What? I don’t even know who purposely turns their spouse into an alcoholic. Does anyone really do that? Is it actually a thing? I’m pretty sure no one can “make” someone an alcoholic, of course I’m not a medical professional so what the fuck do I know.
I discovered I was also having anxiety about graduation itself. Having to be in the same place at the same time as, not just my daughter’s Father but, his parents and step-parents as well. In 16 years it would be the first time I not only had to be near him but his family at the same time. I was scared to death what composure I had held onto all this time would snap at the first hurling of obnoxiousness from any of them. My fear was ungrounded, thankfully. When one of his family did make an obnoxious remark instead of silently taking it as I normally would or alternatively blasting them back to the stone age as I feared I would, I was calm. It actually had no effect on me except to cause a bit of sad amusement that after so many years they still had to hold a grudge. I laughed. Then I looked at my ex-husband and suddenly I realized, with the exception of the two older children’s weddings (should they ever get married), and possibly having to be in the same room for future grandchild special events, I actually never have to speak to the man again. I never have to tolerate him showing up unannounced, uninvited and listen to him spit hate and degrading remarks in my face to keep him from taking out his vengeance against me on his own children. They’re grown adults, who now know who and what their Father is, with no help from me. He managed that without me; Karma turned out to be a bigger bitch then I could have ever been after all.
Both my Husband and my Father showed up for the graduation, my daughter had no sadness or hurt that day and for that day that was all I wanted for her.
This past weekend was her graduation party. Her Father refused to come, for whatever his reason. He told her he would not be involved with a graduation party for her and he did not even want her to have one. When she told him I would cover the cost of everything and do all the work he told her not only would he not attend, he’d be sure not a single one of his family would either. And they didn’t. She was only slightly upset. I was livid. Who does that to their child?
I was heartbroken and, I can’t even find the words really for how I feel, when my Husband’s depression sent him over the edge and he ceased to be a recovering alcoholic. He broke open a 30 pack Friday night and by Saturday afternoon, during the height of the party, he snapped. I walked in the house and it sounded like World War Three was taking place in my room, I opened the door and he was in a withdrawal rage, throwing anything that wasn’t too heavy to hurl, he starts yelling at me that unless I have alcohol I better just walk the fuck away. Since I’m apparently stupid, I stood there staring at him for a few minutes before “Don’t. Don’t you dare do this to me now.” comes flying out of my mouth, seconds later a lighter bounces off the wall behind my head with a verbal threat of more to follow.
I walked out. My brain just whirling. Never in all the years that he had been drinking before had he ever threatened me in anyway. He just sat staring into space until he’d pass out. That was bad enough to watch but if it’s going to be like this? I have lived through shit like this already; I will not do it anymore. Years of dissociative behavior came to my rescue so I could make it through the day and my daughter couldn’t see my fear or pain. I haven’t hid my feelings or thoughts in so many years … to feel forced to do so; to put my head somewhere my body isn’t, just didn’t, doesn’t sit well inside me. I spent too many years working at NOT doing that and to find I could revert to it with no problem as if I still did it every day and have not a single person notice anything was wrong … that it’s still something so second nature and so a part of me it’s easy to pull out of a hat at a moment’s notice terrified me. But walking out and having my daughter see it in my eyes and giving her that disappointment as well as that which her Father owns, I couldn’t do it and maybe I took the cowards way out but, I allowed myself to split. For the first time, I made excuses for my Husband’s absence, to family and to my daughter by saying his back was causing him too much pain for him to join us. And not only do I not feel good about having done that inside myself, I could almost hate my Husband for it and that doesn’t bode well for him, or us.
As of today he’s still holed up in our bedroom, sober but whether that’s by choice or he’s out of money (where he got the money for a 30 is something I’ve been a bit curious about) and just can’t get any more beer, I just don’t know.
I just don’t know. I’m tired. I’m just getting too tired to do this shit any more. And I’m getting angry. We’ve been together for almost 13 years. The first six were excellent. The next two were so/so due to financial stress and, unrealized by me, the beginning of a “drinking” problem for my Husband. The four after? Hell. Straight up hell. Raising two teens and a toddler essentially alone, my Husband there, in body. But not in mind. I don’t know where in hell his demons took him but they took him far, far away and drowned him in so much alcohol I seriously started to wonder if he was flammable. If I tossed a lit match at him would he just … *poof* go up like a molotov cocktail? Obviously I got help. More help. More time spent talking to people because of the pain other people caused me. I spent my time in Al-anon, for families and loved ones of alcoholics. I put myself back in to one-on-one counseling to be sure staying with him did no harm to what progress I had made in my own assortment of mental health issues. I put my children in counseling and told them to never lie when anyone asked what was wrong with their step-father. Tell the truth, don’t hide it, don’t hide from it, the problem is his to own, not theirs.
He’d have been sober for a year at the end of this month.
I miss my Sister. I may well lose my Husband, who is a great man until the demons come for him with a bottle. I’m tired of the hurt. I’ll live. I always do. But I’m getting real tired of and angry at losing pieces of myself to people.