I live in an insane asylum, I'm certain of it.
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I live in an insane asylum, I'm certain of it.
What other explanation could there be? They say the warden of an asylum often ends up even crazier than the people s/he is the caretaker of. Today was a beautiful day.
My husband spent most of yesterday evening locked out of the house. I locked the door initially thinking that he had passed out in the bedroom again, but he had actually gone back to the liquor store. I realized my mistake, unlocked the door and apologized to the man sitting on the porch. He proceeded to cuss me out for disturbing his silence, and told me that he didn't care about my apology, it meant nothing to him. Okay, it means nothing to him -- so I go back inside and re-lock the door. I proceed to have a surprisingly stress-free evening with the kids, though the barbecue grill got knocked over outside and the drain spout has been torn from its brackets by yet another drunken fall.
My dog is now naked. This morning, dear hubby is still intoxicated (big shocker there). I go out to sit beside him while he has his morning cigarette. Neither of us say a word. After his cigarette, he calmly pulls a pair of scissors out of his back pocket and hacks several large chunks out of our Miniature Schnauzer/Min Pin cross's back. He wanted to help her cool off, it's been over 100 degrees all week, with overnight lows around 78. My son helped me make a salad for dinner, and then helped me shave the dog.
I discovered another husband-shaped dent in the wall. We now have quite a collection of these, including chips off of the concrete wall along the basement stairs, and a beautiful head-shaped hole that managed to appear just two inches from the floor in the living room. Still pondering the odds that there are no wall-shaped dents in the husband.
My van, which has been broken down for nearly a year, will be fixed by the end of the month. This is the beautiful part. Despite everything, I still managed to rescue the debit card that had my vehicle repair savings on it from AH's back pocket. He passed out again before he could get to the liquor store. He now has $12 left. For two days. Sadly, after that, his unemployment (which has just had the extension approved) will be deposited. Thankfully, after I get the money order for rent, he will only have $200 to use for groceries or to drink. I will invoice one of my clients so we can get groceries, and there will be a couple of dry days before the next payment.
Just a typical day of nothing out of the ordinary.
My husband spent most of yesterday evening locked out of the house. I locked the door initially thinking that he had passed out in the bedroom again, but he had actually gone back to the liquor store. I realized my mistake, unlocked the door and apologized to the man sitting on the porch. He proceeded to cuss me out for disturbing his silence, and told me that he didn't care about my apology, it meant nothing to him. Okay, it means nothing to him -- so I go back inside and re-lock the door. I proceed to have a surprisingly stress-free evening with the kids, though the barbecue grill got knocked over outside and the drain spout has been torn from its brackets by yet another drunken fall.
My dog is now naked. This morning, dear hubby is still intoxicated (big shocker there). I go out to sit beside him while he has his morning cigarette. Neither of us say a word. After his cigarette, he calmly pulls a pair of scissors out of his back pocket and hacks several large chunks out of our Miniature Schnauzer/Min Pin cross's back. He wanted to help her cool off, it's been over 100 degrees all week, with overnight lows around 78. My son helped me make a salad for dinner, and then helped me shave the dog.
I discovered another husband-shaped dent in the wall. We now have quite a collection of these, including chips off of the concrete wall along the basement stairs, and a beautiful head-shaped hole that managed to appear just two inches from the floor in the living room. Still pondering the odds that there are no wall-shaped dents in the husband.
My van, which has been broken down for nearly a year, will be fixed by the end of the month. This is the beautiful part. Despite everything, I still managed to rescue the debit card that had my vehicle repair savings on it from AH's back pocket. He passed out again before he could get to the liquor store. He now has $12 left. For two days. Sadly, after that, his unemployment (which has just had the extension approved) will be deposited. Thankfully, after I get the money order for rent, he will only have $200 to use for groceries or to drink. I will invoice one of my clients so we can get groceries, and there will be a couple of dry days before the next payment.
Just a typical day of nothing out of the ordinary.
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Yes, they certainly do . Nine days left in this visit, then he goes back for four days and then is back here for a month. He is not looking forward to going back, except to show his other parents how great he is on a bike and to request that the training wheels be removed from his bike over there :P. It took several attempts to save the money, but this fourth time I finally bought him that bike without anyone drinking the money. Baby is doing great, I love the floor plan in this house better than ever, MY side of the house (including the kitchen, office, kids' rooms, and the bathroom is in No Man's Land) has remained pretty much unscathed by the loose cannon that's tearing up the living room and bedroom. The old place worried me, because baby was in our bedroom and I could never be certain her bassinet was completely out of his way. Funny, he only tried to go down into the basement once -- and is still healing a month later.
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She's 7 1/2 months now, AH lost his job two days after she was born, after a month of suspension for showing up drunk to work (in surgery!). She just cut her second tooth, and I'm currently searching for a crib since she's about the same length as her bassinet and has figured out how to pull herself to sitting :P. I've been trying really hard to focus on them, focus on work, focus on finally getting my van fixed at the end of the month (almost a year broken down...part of that focusing on work thing , it's hard to write well when you're miserable), focus on setting up the new aquarium (one of my best-loved hobbies-turned-business for many years, gave up because others demanded my time), and anything else other than the alcoholic elephant in the room.
Most days it works, and I know my son at least seems a lot happier with the changes. I was raised by an alcoholic mother who is still extremely co-dependent, and it's really nice and valuable to be able to look objectively and see where all of my preconceived notions came from -- like the one that everyone else's happiness is more important than my own, for instance. I guess the first step to finding your way out of a cave is to figure out where you are and how you got there .
Most days it works, and I know my son at least seems a lot happier with the changes. I was raised by an alcoholic mother who is still extremely co-dependent, and it's really nice and valuable to be able to look objectively and see where all of my preconceived notions came from -- like the one that everyone else's happiness is more important than my own, for instance. I guess the first step to finding your way out of a cave is to figure out where you are and how you got there .
She's 7 1/2 months now...
I was raised by an alcoholic mother who is still extremely co-dependent, and it's really nice and valuable to be able to look objectively and see where all of my preconceived notions came from -- like the one that everyone else's happiness is more important than my own, for instance. I guess the first step to finding your way out of a cave is to figure out where you are and how you got there .
I was raised by an alcoholic mother who is still extremely co-dependent, and it's really nice and valuable to be able to look objectively and see where all of my preconceived notions came from -- like the one that everyone else's happiness is more important than my own, for instance. I guess the first step to finding your way out of a cave is to figure out where you are and how you got there .
You have some good things to report - separate wing, new bicycle , detachment, the aquarium (I am also deep into this hobby) and some forward progress, from your own insights.
Sending encouragement,
CLMI
I guess the first step to finding your way out of a cave is to figure out where you are and how you got there .
wywriter, your thread title cracked me up. Boy howdy does it feel like that some days, huh?!
Hang in there, you've got your hands full. And at least you know the dog will be comfortable in the heat!
Hang in there, you've got your hands full. And at least you know the dog will be comfortable in the heat!
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I discovered another husband-shaped dent in the wall. We now have quite a collection of these, including chips off of the concrete wall along the basement stairs, and a beautiful head-shaped hole that managed to appear just two inches from the floor in the living room. Still pondering the odds that there are no wall-shaped dents in the husband.
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Hi Wywriter,
I'm guessing there is more to your living situation than is posted here. I only know of what, based on this one thread.
Is there a life threatening reason you are 'still' living with your AH and with a young baby?
I'm guessing there is more to your living situation than is posted here. I only know of what, based on this one thread.
Is there a life threatening reason you are 'still' living with your AH and with a young baby?
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GerryP -- no, no life-threatening situation, and this is a block I've been struggling with for some time now. I honestly don't know why all of this isn't enough reason to go. However, I am finally getting to the point where I can not only set boundaries, but vocalize them constructively to my AH. Even more, I'm finally beginning to get some clarity on how to stick to those boundaries. I'm not sure where the end of the road is, though I've accepted that he most likely won't be there when we get there. Now when he's drinking, if he's not willing to stay away from the kids and keep a civil tongue toward me and them, then either he or I will leave the house. The kids stay with me whatever happens. So far he hasn't tested this, but the time is coming.
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Yes, sadly, I am. He is very clearly in end-stage alcoholism, and I suspect the only reason he's still alive is because we keep running out of money (or, more recently, we keep running out of money he has access to). The only other person I've seen drink like he does for the same sort of duration was my uncle, who died at the age of 45. My husband is now 51. Every time he drinks he turns yellow, and noticeably less is needed to put him on the ground. Because of the age gap, I went into this relationship knowing he would die before me -- it wasn't until his alcohol abuse became known to me and I began to see the full extent of it that it became clear just how much earlier he's most likely to die. I don't intend to be hit by a truck anytime soon, so the way it's looking I'll probably outlive him by at least 50 years. He has no life insurance of any sort, but even that doesn't worry me anymore -- I will be liable for about $200 for cremation, and the VA will take care of burial arrangements. Without the alcohol bill, my income will be able to keep my daughter and I and our house, and child support for my son, and I will even have a chance to get ahead. I always feel horrible about this line of thinking, because it comes far too naturally. Yes, I've spent countless hours planning my life after his death, and how it will proceed after that point.
GerryP -- no, no life-threatening situation, and this is a block I've been struggling with for some time now. I honestly don't know why all of this isn't enough reason to go. However, I am finally getting to the point where I can not only set boundaries, but vocalize them constructively to my AH. Even more, I'm finally beginning to get some clarity on how to stick to those boundaries.
For me, the most important lessen has been what you describe above. Awareness is always the first step in change.
Jesus, you've got a baby and a dying, end stage alcoholic husband. My heart goes out to you.
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I guess I can't say a whole lot, I asked for both of them . True, I didn't know my husband was an alcoholic at the outset of the relationship, but I still wanted to be with him, come what may. Now I'm thinking that might not have been the greatest thing to wish for, but life is a learning experience. Have a 5-year-old too, but he's not here all the time -- the summer visit has actually gone a lot smoother than I expected, mainly because we have a house we just moved into that has a really nice layout for living two separate lives when one decides not to live life at all.
I guess I can't say a whole lot, I asked for both of them .
Now here's a girl with ba!!s! How refreshing to read someone say ..."Yep, I walked into this with my eyes open. Now I'm dealing with it best I can."
Go you
Now here's a girl with ba!!s! How refreshing to read someone say ..."Yep, I walked into this with my eyes open. Now I'm dealing with it best I can."
Go you
Wy - I thought I would get some grief from you or others because of my bluntness. But you're ten steps ahead of all of us, the way you've thought this through. I am so sorry for your situation, it's tragic.
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The closest I've gotten to leaving was when we moved into this new house (yep, been here almost three months and already have all the husband-shaped dents and holes -- so glad the landlord loves my gardening abilities), he was being mean on the night we were supposed to come here so I just left without him. I had a great night sleeping comfortably on our bed in the new place, away from the interstate and train tracks, and the kids got to sleep in their new rooms, while he got to sleep on the floor at the empty old place. I knew it was just for a night, and enjoyed the break. Even the WORD divorce hasn't come through my mind, even on the bad nights when I'm sitting there thinking, "I don't want this." I guess I'll just keep working on my own recovery -- which does seem to be progressing -- and when it comes time to take that step then I'll know, and hopefully have a bit more clarity on how to take it.
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I thought of starting a new thread, and then decided that it doesn't really warrant one -- but it DEFINITELY fits in to this thread.
Tonight AH got drunk, hit something on his way into the bedroom, flopped out and went to sleep. He got up once to go to the bathroom, then went back to bed. Now, the layout of the house is that the kids' rooms and my office are on one side of the kitchen and bathroom, while the living room and master bedroom are up four steps on the other side. I've had a ton of work to do, so I've been staying up to the wee hours every night after everyone else is in bed.
About 45 minutes after AH takes his bathroom break, I wander into the kitchen...and feel hot air wafting from the living room. My first thought was, "Holy s--t, he's burning the house down!" Second thought was, "Maybe he bumped the oven on?" Checked oven, it was off and cold. Back to thought number one.
Nope, after 100-degree days for several weeks straight, dear hubby ran into the thermostat. By time I got up into the previously night-cooled living room, it was about 95 degrees and the heater was running strong. The thermostat lay in pieces all over the floor. Having no other alternative, I woke up AH to tell him the problem and asked if there's any emergency shutoff or similar thing for the heater. He proceeded to wake up, wander into the pantry, retrieve wire cutters, remove the rest of the thermostat from the wall and cut the wires. Zapped himself a tiny bit with the LIVE wires, but he has well-insulated tools because he bought them while he was actually doing electrical work.
The heater did go off a couple minutes later. This should be really great for about another month or two, when the fall freeze sets in. Thank you, Mr. Fix-It.
Tonight AH got drunk, hit something on his way into the bedroom, flopped out and went to sleep. He got up once to go to the bathroom, then went back to bed. Now, the layout of the house is that the kids' rooms and my office are on one side of the kitchen and bathroom, while the living room and master bedroom are up four steps on the other side. I've had a ton of work to do, so I've been staying up to the wee hours every night after everyone else is in bed.
About 45 minutes after AH takes his bathroom break, I wander into the kitchen...and feel hot air wafting from the living room. My first thought was, "Holy s--t, he's burning the house down!" Second thought was, "Maybe he bumped the oven on?" Checked oven, it was off and cold. Back to thought number one.
Nope, after 100-degree days for several weeks straight, dear hubby ran into the thermostat. By time I got up into the previously night-cooled living room, it was about 95 degrees and the heater was running strong. The thermostat lay in pieces all over the floor. Having no other alternative, I woke up AH to tell him the problem and asked if there's any emergency shutoff or similar thing for the heater. He proceeded to wake up, wander into the pantry, retrieve wire cutters, remove the rest of the thermostat from the wall and cut the wires. Zapped himself a tiny bit with the LIVE wires, but he has well-insulated tools because he bought them while he was actually doing electrical work.
The heater did go off a couple minutes later. This should be really great for about another month or two, when the fall freeze sets in. Thank you, Mr. Fix-It.
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