Shattered Delusions

For years I had clung to the delusion that as long as Bob didn't pick up a drink we would be fine. No matter what, I would be able to forgive and forget. Acutally that worked for many many years. It worked so well that little by little I started to loose the respect of Bob and I think Matt. I never wanted to "Rock the Sobriety Boat"
But like the "butterfly effect" one day a harsh word from his father changed our reality forever. I didn't have anything to do with the changes that were about to happen. I was caught in the eye of his storm and I didn't have a life raft I had a veil of delusion. I guess it's really called denial.

Mind you, my delusions of our peaceful harmonious life where thinly veiled. I wanted to have the perfect little family and for many years everyone who knew us thought that was exactly what we were. Even a few years before Bob had gone crazy when a Pain Management Doctor had taken him off of Valium "Cold Turkey" no less, he wasn't drinking, even though he was totally crazy coming off of it.
He was tipping over the kitchen table acting insane and many hours into a fight, he started taunting me with unacceptable insults. I had hauled off and whacked him in the face.

I had no idea I was so strong. I had been taking self defense classes privately from one of the women at our karate studio and I guess I had learned well. I scarred myself. I vowed I would never raise hand to anyone again. After all, I had be slapped around enough by Bob in the early years. I was ashamed of myself and totally baffled how strong emotions can make a person loose all sense of control. I knew where he had come from back them.
But Bob was not drinking. All was forgiven.

Covered by a now thread bear cover of hope more than reality one day after we returned home from Europe I woke up and our lives were altered forever.

I'm always speaking of having a mirror put up in front of a person and that morning my mirror was 10 feet tall. I could not change the facts of what had happened nor the reality that I wasn't ever going to get over it.

First of all I was totally jet lagged we arrived back from London and it was around noon our time. I went directly to Bed when I got home, I didn't go to our room because Bob was in there smoking and pacing.
I needed some rest and escapism more than anything. Matt also went to sleep so Bob was on his own.

I got up the next morning went down to the kitchen as usual and made myself a cup of cappuccino with really hot steamed milk. Bob was up early which was a sign that he had probably not slept much or at all. His insomnia was raging.
I had become very comfortable with having at least an hour or so to myself every morning without the drama of Bob which recently had become an art to deal with.
I did keep in mind that he was also devestated by drinking after all those years and I tried to keep his feelings in perspective. I wanted to believe he could get over this slip and get back to another fourteen years without a drink. I really wanted to believe that he could do it. After Europe I really wasn't sure about anything. I had seen the Bob I had run from many years ago "reborn". It scarred me beyond belief. In my life the only thing that really terrified me was Bob actively drinking or on a dry drunk just about to take that drink.

That's were I found myself that morning. In the Twilight Zone. My past was shattered and my future hanging by a thread.

The first words out of Bob's mouth were derogatory and accusing. He started to blame everything that happened in Paris on me. He started talking about Meagan and how beautiful she was. How she could have been another Sharon Stone. I literally saw red.
Much like the night I hit him, I do not remember what he was still yelling at me, all I remember is not wanting to go back to place of violence and before I knew what I was doing I launched my steaming hot coffee in his face.
He was stunned quiet. He didn't have a shirt on so it also hit his chest. I was in big trouble, or so I thought.
What happened was the opposite. He calmed down, went up to our room and literally took a cold shower.
When he was finished he called his Dad. One of the worst moments in my life was getting on the phone and telling his Dad what I just did to him. I have the feeling that Marisa had called him also so he was really compassionate with me as usual.
He told me to apologize and everything would be OK not to worry. I put Bob back on the phone. His father knew as well as anyone that Bob could be difficult, he also wanted more than anything to have me help Bob not pick up another drink. His dad knew that for some reason if anyone could or would help Bob to try and stay sober it could be me. I would not let his Dad, Matt, Bob or myself down. I loved him and I wasn't ready to throw in the towel on our marriage.
As hurt as I was I was willing to try or so I thought until I threw hot coffee on him. Now I didn't even know who I had become.

I had been so careful to walk on egg shells with Bob and Marisa to get them back home safe and in relatively not too damaged shape and now it was all turned on me again. But this time I was different. I was never going to be the same. I would never be that wishy washy wife as Matt used to call me so many times. That person disappeared that morning.

I had tried to get over Meagan, had taken the family on our first European vacation together with the hopes of healing and forgiveness and the truth was it was not going to ever be the same.
I had to face the fact that I was not a woman who was going to ever really trust him again. And with no trust we really had nothing. What was left was a family that was going to put up with each other for the sake of our son.
He begged me on many occasions not to get a divorce and I stayed because I didn't want to hurt him.
I would simply have to find a way to control my anger and hide my broken heart.

I had a broken heart. I loved Bob more than words could ever say, I was his defender always, maybe even his guardian angel and he threw it all away and rubbed Megan in my face when he was angry.

He could be so cruel at times. He was a Scorpio and his words were often cruel and targeted at doing damage. He looked for a weak spot and went for it.
I was now going to fight back and for the first time, I engaged him verbally like never before. I didn't care.

I had moved to Malibu with the hope that he would be far away from temptation, which he was at the time, I had walked on egg shells and people pleased him to death, but all that bought me was an illusion. Fact was he still picked up the drink and I had to let go of the idea that I had anything to do with his sobriety. He simply stayed sober because he wanted too and one day he didn't want to be sober any longer and he drank. End of story. That chapter of my life was over. I had better find a way and fast to learn to cope with our present situation.

I got up early the next morning and went to an Al anon meeting. I have never like this 12 step program and in fact always identified more with AA, at least there seemed to be a sense of hope and compassion there. I had experienced people reaching out to Bob and trying to help him stay sober. I prayed that I could find the same kind of support. I really needed help. I wasn't going to find it there. I poured my heart out when I shared and much to my shock, I was cut off and told not to talk about what had just happened in Paris. It was the last meeting I went too.

I called a friend and got the number of a psychologist in Malibu, I prayed that she could help us. Boy was I wrong.