***Warning of incoming wall o’ text that may or may not crit the reader for 56432168411 damage, effectively one shotting them. >.> I keep looking at it, trying to figure out how to trim some fat – and am simply not able to. Maybe like Stephen King, I have diarrhea of the word processor. Or maybe, I simply have a LOT to say here, and need to get it worked out in words. <.<
I promise however, that the ending won’t be horrible. It isn’t roses and unicorn farts, but it is a good one for me, I think.
As has become the norm, it has been a while since my last post because as usual, life has gotten crazy, Lots of stuff got moved to the back burner. where it turned into a charred mess. Cleaning the pan has taken FOREVER. (probably not the best analogy ever -but who the hell cares! Am I right? Y’all know what I mean to say.)
Still scrubbin’ away at the burns, and finding new places all the time but was reminded by the amazing Kit (again with the loves for Kit. Amazing, caring, loving woman.) She told me that she was sad because I had not posted in so long. I told her that I hadn’t because I couldn’t find the words to describe my life right now – it has been so crazy, my heart was broken, and I was tender. She replied that it sounded like the good starting point.
She had a point, so here I am.
To catch up a bit. Last time you heard from our intrepid heroine, she was happily ensconced in a lovely apartment, with two (seemingly) incomes, in charge of funds so that things would run well – and while her work hours weren’t ideal, things were pretty damned good.
It wasn’t what everyone probably thinks. My husband has always been rather footloose and fancy free when it came to money and responsibility – and telling the truth. Even small things were lies – like where he got groceries… I don’t know in retrospect if he understood the difference.
He is 50 years old- and has never to my knowledge held a job for more than 2 years. He keeps having visions of being a big time contractor, working for himself, making the bucks, but doesn’t have the self discipline to actually -do- that. He doesn’t seem to get the concept that working for your self doesn’t mean LESS work – it means 70 hour weeks instead of 40 with a steady paycheck. It means saving from the fat weeks to cover the lean times while building the business.
His lies have become just too big – and cost me too much. In October, he went to jail unexpectedly. He had some sort of bounced check in Williamson county, and told me it was taken care of. Not so much, and he was arrested by the sheriff who was serving papers for -another- issue. (That bounced check was the same thing he was arrested for in JANUARY – and swore he had it taken care of) His family wouldn’t even help him out of jail.
I got a call from his sister stating basically that he was 50, and they couldn’t do it anymore. It is sad that both his brother and sister not only said that he needed to find his own way out – but urged me to take care of and look after myself, and offered their ears for any ranting/talking I may need to do.
I had never been more humiliated in my life. He lost his job more than 2 months prior (near the beginning of July) and didn’t tell me – but DID run my bank account into overdraft.
Yes, I hid my card, he found it anyway. He had to have really been searching. He also stole checks out of my checkbook – two of which were paid by the bank (with heavy overdraft fees) – but one to Lowe’s that did -not- and I was working with them to get a payment plan on that – so I don’t end up with a warrant over MY head for a bad check from MY checking account. (They have since simply dropped it.)
If I have to though, I was willing to file a police report – because while I didn’t want to kick him when he was down so to speak, I refused to go to jail, or take blame for that.
I was in an extended stay motel, as the loss of his job/his not coming clean/his stealing from my checking account, and his lying meant that we had to move out of the lovely apartment by xx date, or face eviction. Again. (This is the second or third – I am not sure about one that he swears was NOT an eviction – time he has put me in THAT position.) I didn’t have any money to pay for another night – and my paycheck for 2 weeks was less than 100 because of overdraft fees. I am blessed that my friend Sarah stepped in, and offered me and the kitties a room in her home.
I am very lucky to have the friends and dad that I have.
Right away, Sarah told me that I could come stay with them for a few weeks, while I figured out what I was going to do. My dad sent me a bit of cash to tide me over, and help me get back on my feet. as did my lovely friend John and his beautiful bride.
I found that the storage shed, that had all of our stuff, had **also** not been paid for quite some time. In fact, it was going to go to auction, just like that crappy reality TV show if it wasn’t paid within 10 days. Now – I get quite a lot of swag from my job – and it can’t be sold. That is in the agreement when you hire on. If it had gone to auction, I was in very real danger of losing my job. (I did go to HR, but there is still the danger of breaking contract.) My wonderful friend Brenda (who called me every single week during the 5 years I was in MA to remind me that there were people who loved me) made sure that I got that taken care of, so I wouldn’t lose my job.
The first few days of his incarceration, my husband would call me through bail bondsmen – who would try to convince me to pay the bail. When I stated flat out that I didn’t have the money – he got angry and told me that if I wanted to – I would find a way. Ummm. No. I was the next thing to broke – even WITH the help from my friends and family. No way could I or **would** I pay that bond. He had bailed on the first court date, and ended up with a warrant.
Because I am beyond blessed, I was able to pay insurance on the car (another bill that had been “forgotten” – I wonder now where all the money **I** made went). Ransom my stuff, and get it moved over to my friends house.
Of course, once I got into the storage, I found it had been pillaged. A lot of stuff had never made it into the shed – or maybe it had been sold off. My sewing machine and craft stuff, all of my books (less the ones I had in the extended stay for the year) my bed, my chest freezer… even more heartbreaking to me, the very first Christmas present I got from my place of employment. A lovely professional grade poker set that I had never used. Along with two other branded poker sets that I had purchased (not the same kind) also in pristine condition.
Since these sets were in the bottom of my swag box – I don’t buy the “someone must have stolen them” line I got from the husband. How would someone have known that that box was special? Why the poker sets instead of the other swag that would be worth just as much? I am guessing that was the one thing that someone felt might fetch some cash. And it is not replaceable though the company.
While he was in jail, after I made it clear to the bondsmen he was third party calling through that I would **NOT** be paying bail, I wrote a letter. (He couldn’t call me directly, cell phones don’t take collect calls.)
That letter let him know that I couldn’t go on the way we had been. I had lost everything three times because of him – and I needed more stability. I hoped that when he got out of jail, he would buckle down, get a real job and an apartment, pay his bills, and learn to live like a responsible human being. I wasn’t filing for divorce right off. If he could do that, and be responsible, and live that way for a year or two – we could see about dating, and see if being together was something we still wanted.
Fast forward to the end of October. Husband gets out of jail, and shows up at my place of employment while I am out sick. (Sick is going to become a recurring theme for the next several months. Stress, plus strange weather and allergies played HELL with my chronic bronchitis. /sigh) When I get back to work, the physical safety officer calls me into her office, to make sure I was going to be ok – and to ask if they need to put a notice to other security that he could be a danger. Not necessary, I tell her. He isn’t physically violent, and I don’t foresee him doing anything that would put me or others in danger.
He shows up again that day. Because I still love him even though I have left, I make some concessions. If he is going to get a job, and start working, he does need transportation. While I am at work, I have agreed that he could use the car. I would pick him up, take him to work with me, and he would meet me there when I got off – and I would take him home. Not ideal – but the best I could do.
Here’s where I started to fuck up. There were a couple of times he would be 20 short for something – gas, or whatever, and I would “lend” it to him. He would swear that I would see it back by XX day – and of course XX day came, and there was some excuse, some reason why he didn’t have it to give. I kept him on my insurance plan, because he swore he would pay me the cost of it every month. Our phone plan, same.
Then, the car died. Like completely. No fixin’ this puppy. Dead. So, I head off to rent a car for a few days, because husband swore up down and sideways that the guy he was renting a room from could find another car very easily – he actually has a business buying them at auction and flipping them.
Three weeks later – I am turning back in the rental, my Christmas bonus from work eaten up – and still no car. No word on a car. Husband has obtained a truck from somewhere – he says it is borrowed, for an indefinite amount of time. Again, as before, I am depending on and relying on him to get me on time, to get to work. And of course, there comes a time when things don’t work so well in that situation. (Didn’t see that coming, I bet. **rolls eyes**)
I am desperate. I need a car, because I need to get to work. I don’t want to lose my job on top of everything else. Talking to the sister of my soul Julie about the whole mess. Considering one of those places like Carmax, that will charge an outrageous amount of interest on a car – but unable to qualify anywhere else. Again I am rocked by how blessed I am.
Julie, who worked for years to get herself and her finances back to good after going through something very similar, pops up with a figure that is in the range of what I can pull off – and then insists on loaning me the money to get a new car. She even sends an amortization schedule, and apologizes about the interest – she will have to pay interest on it, or she wouldn’t ask for it. (To be clear, I wouldn’t have taken it without some interest added in – she deserves something for not having that resource for the years of the payment schedule.)
I get a car – and while I am not going to go into THAT whole sad story – I should have it again soon. >.> Suffice to say I should have it back in the next couple of days.
Now however, I am **BACK** to relying on husband, and now – he is homeless. He is living in the ‘borrowed’ truck – and has no money, no food, nothing.
Again, I give him some food money. Gas for the truck. (This helps me too – I have to get to and from work while my car is in the shop.) I am getting low on funds – I have nothing much to fall back on. Every day, I am putting 20.00 of gas in the truck, and I simply don’t have the income to sustain that.
Husband finds a place to stay – a place where down on their luck musicians can “volunteer” 20 hours a week or so to cleaning up the property in exchange for the use of a camping trailer. No electricity or running water – but a roof. There are fire pits to cook over. He gets a job with a temp company, and says that he has been offered a permanent full time job with the company that he is doing work for.
EXCEPT. Yeah. Except – he calls me one night, drunk, and tells me that he likes the ranch – that if it gets its funding, he could have a job there. He doesn’t want to take that guaranteed job, he would rather do the volunteer stuff on the ranch, and maybe get foodstamps. When I say that he has to make his own choices for what he wants out of his life – he comes up with “I would be doing it for US!”
Um…. what? Really? Yeah. No. I don’t think so.
Next day – he tells me that he wasn’t serious the night before, and if he did get the guaranteed job, he would take it.
EXCEPT – one week later – almost two weeks ago – I come out of work at 10.45, and he is not there to pick me up. I call, and he says he got stuck – but he will be there in half an hour. An hour goes by – and still no husband. I try to call – no answer. I try again at midnight, and again at 12.15. No answer.
I was waiting for the last shift to get off at 1.30 – I had been offered a ride home by a couple of people if I was still there when their shift ended. I was saved however, by my room mate, who realized that I wasn’t home yet- called to make sure I was ok, and then insisted on getting OUT of bed to come get me. <3
She and her husband had discussed it – and if she didn’t need his car (he is driving hers while she looks for a job) I could take it to and from work til mine was finished. When she has needed it – she takes me to work, and I try to find a ride home.
Husband **DID** leave me an email the next day – saying that if I needed a ride to work, let him know. I didn’t answer it. Not going to put myself in that position again.
I **DID** call him however, when I found out that our shared phone plan had gone over on data (I don’t use my phone as a computer. Ever. The data is all him.) He didn’t answer, so I left a message telling him that I couldn’t afford the regular bill, much less the overage. He needed to stop with the data.
I have talked to my phone carrier – and it pisses me off, because though mine is the name on the account – I can’t remove him unless he agrees to take over financial responsibility for his phone. Like that is going to happen. >.< I think I might at least see about dropping the plan to the bare minimum on data – and I have already pin locked the account so it can’t have changes made to it. I have also requested that we have a hard cap on data – once it is gone – it is gone.
Next, I have talked to my HR rep at work about what would be needed (legal separation vs full on divorce) to remove him from my health insurance. I could really use that extra 140.00 or so a month.
I have a feeling that the drunk phone call was his real feelings. He would rather have a life of minimal responsibility – even if it means some discomfort. Whatever. That is NOT the life I choose for myself. I am on the road to fully truly and finally getting rid of the concrete block that I have chained myself to.
I feel like I have just thrown away the last 10 years of my life – and I come out of this infinitely poorer in all respects. I have given up everything twice (or thrice?) for him. I never ever wanted to become a statistic. I swore I would never be in one broken marriage, much less two.
I am strong, and I am resilient, and I know I will get through this. It is overwhelming now – and my heart is breaking in the process. As childish, and irresponsible and outright untruthful as he is – I do love my husband. I just can’t do this anymore. When we moved to TX for this job, 5 years ago he promised me that he would get a normal, 40/week job, and with me doing the budgeting, we could have a REAL NORMAL (as normal as one can have) life. That promise hasn’t been kept – and now, I find myself living in a strange house, borrowing money from friends and my dad, and trying to mend my heart.
I hope that at some point, he really stops to THINK about things, and actually come out with a plan to be more responsible as well. I hope he can find enough love for himself that he stops skating through life, and starts living it. I don’t see that happening however. At 50, I don’t see him really making that connection. And that makes me incredibly sad.
At one point, my mindset was this:
“I don’t think he will really change, but if he did – if he actually spent a couple of years learning to and doing the right thing – I might consider it. I do love him. He has to be responsible for himself, or not.”
That has changed. I don’t know that I would or COULD ever trust that he had changed. I feel like I have been a resource – not a love. I won’t be the sometime crutch anymore.
I am currently taking Xanax (on a very occasional basis – the first 30 day script lasted me almost 5 months…) because I have been having anxiety/panic attacks again. I am hoping that that need will ease up soon. I am considering trying to find a counselor that I can click with if I feel the need to talk/work through things – or I might just subject y’all to more walls o’ text. >.>
A wonderful meme I found somewhere (or someone else found and I stole – I forget which) said this:
“When someone loves you, they don’t have to say it. You can tell by the way they treat you.”
How very true! How very real. How very very much I need to see, hear and remember this.
Now – the most important part of my blog.
A LOT of the strength, inspiration and courage to jump, and cut the ties, has been wormed into my brain by an amazing woman.
I can’t even begin to be as elegant and beautiful a writer as she is – not to mention so full of class and just bad ass – but I am doing my best to emulate.
Elisa Romero – published author and wonderful woman, went through her own marriage meltdown fairly recently. Reading her posts, her words, and seeing her strength and beauty, have been an inspiration. Y’all should really read her blog! It is amazing. <3
She is amazing, and this may have you searching for her on Amazon!
Madison’s Gate Just one of her many books. <3
I love you all so much for sticking through this novel with me. Remember – as long and rambling as it was – I truncated a LOT. >.>
Be good, be happy and be real. That is what I plan to do. <3