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.
August 14, 2007
The Flight Home
Even when you are having the time of your life on vacation the flight home from London can seem to take an eternity. The biggest problem usually is the fact that you are flying into the morning. No nighttime to get some sleep.
As you can imagine, Bob did not wake up smelling the roses that day. He was tired and in the middle of the mother of all dry drunks. I had to get Matt and Marisa and us checked out of our hotel and through security at Heathrow. In the best circumstances it's not pleasant, but Marisa had an excess of baggage and weight in her suitcases that we had prepared for but we never anticipated the mood that everyone would be in.
Imagine trying to act like a happily little family at that point. What a stretch.
Bob was already going into nicotine withdrawal and dealing with the baggage was the last thing that he had the patience for that morning. As I recall there was only one little glitch at checking everything in and we were on our way to our gate.
Everyone was on their best behavior, thank god.
We boarded our plane and Matt and Bob sat together and Marisa and I were together.
As fate would have it Bob was seated next to two little kids that were having a pillow fight for what seemed like an eternity. He finally snapped. He started pacing up and down the Aile of the plane taunting Marisa. I really can't remember what he was saying to her, but his remorse had turned to anger. That was not a good sign.
People were drinking all around him and it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what was going on in his head.
Marisa had informed him that her mother would be picking her up at the airport and taking her home there would be no need for us to bother.
He was not going to escape seeing her mom after this trauma, and don't forget Marisa was telling him that she no longer needed him for ANYTHING.
I had saved two of his Valium and brought them with me on this trip just in case something like this should happen. I gave one to Marisa and I took the other. We had to stay somewhat calm on the outside, we could not afford to get into a fight on an airplane. Bob was pacing like a caged animal now. It was too bad that he couldn't take any Valium he was the one that needed it most, but he had just almost died from Valium withdrawal two months before this. If he had any idea I had save a couple he would have taken them and been back in trouble.
I was awake through a real nightmare. I prayed for the strength to just be calm and be understanding and supportive of the two of them. I can't believe I gave Marisa a Valium but it was the only way I knew how to stop the insanity. I think she went to sleep and Bob no longer could antagonize her.
Things seemed fairly calm during the remainder of the flight.
We arrived at LAX and the first thing that Marisa did was call her Mom to let her know we were in customs. It was then that her Mom told her that she was going out that night, but that she would get her some food to eat when she got hungry.
Bob didn't say much to her, but to me on the way home he wouldn't stop.
He just called it. He said if Marisa thought that her Mom was going to let him off the hood financially she was just kidding herself. She couldn't even break her dinner plans when Marisa was in a total crisis. He couldn't get over it. Whatever he was he always put his kids first. It was shocking to him. So Marisa had to basically go home to an empty house after one of the most traumatic experiences of her life. Not to mention that she had been gone for the past four months while studying and traveling abroad.
Her Mom always put her needs first. It was the thing that Marisa seemed to turn a blind eye to. Always. No matter what her father did it was wrong or bad. Her Mom on the other hand could do no wrong. He was furious.
Bob certainly was flawed, at times unbearable, but there was never a time when he didn't put his kids needs before his own. Right up until the end.
As you can imagine, Bob did not wake up smelling the roses that day. He was tired and in the middle of the mother of all dry drunks. I had to get Matt and Marisa and us checked out of our hotel and through security at Heathrow. In the best circumstances it's not pleasant, but Marisa had an excess of baggage and weight in her suitcases that we had prepared for but we never anticipated the mood that everyone would be in.
Imagine trying to act like a happily little family at that point. What a stretch.
Bob was already going into nicotine withdrawal and dealing with the baggage was the last thing that he had the patience for that morning. As I recall there was only one little glitch at checking everything in and we were on our way to our gate.
Everyone was on their best behavior, thank god.
We boarded our plane and Matt and Bob sat together and Marisa and I were together.
As fate would have it Bob was seated next to two little kids that were having a pillow fight for what seemed like an eternity. He finally snapped. He started pacing up and down the Aile of the plane taunting Marisa. I really can't remember what he was saying to her, but his remorse had turned to anger. That was not a good sign.
People were drinking all around him and it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what was going on in his head.
Marisa had informed him that her mother would be picking her up at the airport and taking her home there would be no need for us to bother.
He was not going to escape seeing her mom after this trauma, and don't forget Marisa was telling him that she no longer needed him for ANYTHING.
I had saved two of his Valium and brought them with me on this trip just in case something like this should happen. I gave one to Marisa and I took the other. We had to stay somewhat calm on the outside, we could not afford to get into a fight on an airplane. Bob was pacing like a caged animal now. It was too bad that he couldn't take any Valium he was the one that needed it most, but he had just almost died from Valium withdrawal two months before this. If he had any idea I had save a couple he would have taken them and been back in trouble.
I was awake through a real nightmare. I prayed for the strength to just be calm and be understanding and supportive of the two of them. I can't believe I gave Marisa a Valium but it was the only way I knew how to stop the insanity. I think she went to sleep and Bob no longer could antagonize her.
Things seemed fairly calm during the remainder of the flight.
We arrived at LAX and the first thing that Marisa did was call her Mom to let her know we were in customs. It was then that her Mom told her that she was going out that night, but that she would get her some food to eat when she got hungry.
Bob didn't say much to her, but to me on the way home he wouldn't stop.
He just called it. He said if Marisa thought that her Mom was going to let him off the hood financially she was just kidding herself. She couldn't even break her dinner plans when Marisa was in a total crisis. He couldn't get over it. Whatever he was he always put his kids first. It was shocking to him. So Marisa had to basically go home to an empty house after one of the most traumatic experiences of her life. Not to mention that she had been gone for the past four months while studying and traveling abroad.
Her Mom always put her needs first. It was the thing that Marisa seemed to turn a blind eye to. Always. No matter what her father did it was wrong or bad. Her Mom on the other hand could do no wrong. He was furious.
Bob certainly was flawed, at times unbearable, but there was never a time when he didn't put his kids needs before his own. Right up until the end.
August 13, 2007
A Family in Crisis
If there ever was a moment in my life where I had no control over the events that were about to unfold it was sitting in a cab with Bob trying desperately to get him to an AA Meeting without him just telling the driver to pull over to the nearest Pub.
I had to accept that the dream of getting over the slip was Shattered. I never took into consideration how much anger and rage Marisa had towards her father. I should not have been surprised but I was shocked at the level of her rage.
Coming from a family of Mob guys I was used to people being more than angry at family members but never did I experience it first hand. His daughter really wanted nothing to do with her father, she would have preferred to have left him in Paris and the three of us just get one with our little vacation.
I never loved Bob more than I did at this moment in his life and I really felt his heartbreak. It also broke my heart that the truth could no longer be brushed under the rug and forgotten with tons and tons of retail therapy. The jig was up so to speak and as crazy as it sounds for the first time in years I was also proud of Marisa for telling him that she wanted nothing from him ever again.
Now this is what she wanted and she would soon find out that even though she thought her Mom would cover all the expenses associated with her Stanford tuition and the free spending she had on her dad's credit card she would soon come to realize that her Mother would have nothing to do with that scenario. But at least for the time being she felt that her relationship with him was not worth the stuff.
She was convinced that her Mom would just take care of everything. It was not meant to be.
Of course our amazing Matt would stay neutral as usual. He comforted his dad and stayed with his sister to in his own way comfort her.
I may not have been born into a well educated or wealthy family, but the one thing we were oozing with was the importance of family and I was being torn in half. Matt was neutral he loved us all. I had to find a way to comfort both Bob and Marisa, They were both hurting on so many levels that I was not prepared to handle. My god we needed a full time shrink on board for the next few months and I was in no shape to upset the apple cart with either of them.
I had to literally handle both of them with kid gloves. Bob's life depended on having my support because he was looking for any excuse to throw in the towel and just drink himself into oblivion.
He never really knew how much his daughter was affected by his alcoholism but the truth revealed in this manner was not something either of us had been prepared for.
I was angry with myself for even agreeing to go on this trip in the first place. Had I just said NO none of this would have happened but there was no turning back.
I was now in my maternal protective mode. I had to protect then both. From themselves and each other. Not an easy task for anyone, but given the tight quarters we were facing flying home together was freaking me out. I had no idea how Bob could make that flight without a cigarette or a drink.
All these thoughts were going through my head while I was in that car and as we pulled up to the meeting place, I felt a weight lift off of my shoulders. Bob had made it past hurdle number one.
He wanted to get into that meeting as much as I wanted him to be there.
There really is such a thing as a miricle and that evening Bob experienced another miricle of sorts.
We were the first people to arrive at the meeting and the man who was leading asked Bob if he would do the honor of leading the group. Bob accepted and by doing so he would have no excuse to leave early.
The man's name was Ray. I will never forget that he saved Bob's life that night. They had an instant bond. In England it is a bit different that over in the States.
The person leading the meeting has to tell his story. I felt that we were really being protected that night.
Bob poured his heart out that night and instead of many different stories everyone there rallied around Bob and his honesty. He actually begged for their help and told them how he didn't think he could make it without a drink that night.
Ray told his story and as bad as Bob was feeling at the moment his heart went out to Ray. Ray told the group how his beloved daughter had passed away a year ago and how his marriage had fallen apart behind it. It was probably the only story that could top the pain that Bob was feeling. He may have lost his daughter's affection on this trip, but she was still alive and he would have an opportunity pehaps in the future to make it up to her.
Ray on the other hand would never have another chance to tell his daughter how much he loved and adored her. She was truly lost forever. It was a glimmer of light at the end of a long painful two days.
Ray was so taken by Bob and he related to how much that Bob wanted to drink, that he actually drove us back to our hotel and spent two hours with Bob in the coffee shop talking and comforting him. While they were talking I went to check on Matt and Marisa to make sure that they were ok and to let them know that we were back at the hotel. Marisa took really good care of feeding and entertaining Matt so they were just fine. I was emotionally on pins and needles. I just prayed that I could keep it together for all our sakes.
What an amazing gift Ray was that night. By the time he left it was well over 2am and we had to be at the airport at 7am. No time for drinking fighting or anything but sleeping.
Bob's last words when he got back to the room were, "I don't know if I can make it without a drink (there was a mini bar in the room), but I will try. That was enough for me. I kissed him good night and thanked him for trying.
At that point it was all about reverse phycology. I could not lecture him or tell him what would happen if he did drink. He already knew and as far as he was concerned there wasn't much left to live for that night. The words that had spilled from Marisa's mouth would haunt him forever. No matter how much in the years to come we would all try to pretend that they were never uttered they were always lurking in the back of our minds.
In all the years I knew him and all the fights we had experience neither of us had ever stooped to the level that she did. No one ever wanted anything but for him to be sober, she went beyond compassion with tough love into hatred. It forever altered my opinion of her and I really felt sorry for her. She obviously had some major major issues.
I had been kicked out of my house years before and it never occured to me to hate my parents, I simply was stunned. But I loved her and I needed to get her back home to her mom in one emotional piece also. I alwasy used to say no one gets to be like they are by themselves. We are shaped by our childhood and our parents and given the fact that she spent most of her time with her Mom and her family the damage was irreversable.
Whatever love she used to have for her father had been altered and it was heartbreaking to watch them both suffering like they were. I rose to the occassion and did my best to mother the two of them. Matt was just a dream, so loving to them both. He was always there for his Dad. And his Dad adored him for that love.
I had to accept that the dream of getting over the slip was Shattered. I never took into consideration how much anger and rage Marisa had towards her father. I should not have been surprised but I was shocked at the level of her rage.
Coming from a family of Mob guys I was used to people being more than angry at family members but never did I experience it first hand. His daughter really wanted nothing to do with her father, she would have preferred to have left him in Paris and the three of us just get one with our little vacation.
I never loved Bob more than I did at this moment in his life and I really felt his heartbreak. It also broke my heart that the truth could no longer be brushed under the rug and forgotten with tons and tons of retail therapy. The jig was up so to speak and as crazy as it sounds for the first time in years I was also proud of Marisa for telling him that she wanted nothing from him ever again.
Now this is what she wanted and she would soon find out that even though she thought her Mom would cover all the expenses associated with her Stanford tuition and the free spending she had on her dad's credit card she would soon come to realize that her Mother would have nothing to do with that scenario. But at least for the time being she felt that her relationship with him was not worth the stuff.
She was convinced that her Mom would just take care of everything. It was not meant to be.
Of course our amazing Matt would stay neutral as usual. He comforted his dad and stayed with his sister to in his own way comfort her.
I may not have been born into a well educated or wealthy family, but the one thing we were oozing with was the importance of family and I was being torn in half. Matt was neutral he loved us all. I had to find a way to comfort both Bob and Marisa, They were both hurting on so many levels that I was not prepared to handle. My god we needed a full time shrink on board for the next few months and I was in no shape to upset the apple cart with either of them.
I had to literally handle both of them with kid gloves. Bob's life depended on having my support because he was looking for any excuse to throw in the towel and just drink himself into oblivion.
He never really knew how much his daughter was affected by his alcoholism but the truth revealed in this manner was not something either of us had been prepared for.
I was angry with myself for even agreeing to go on this trip in the first place. Had I just said NO none of this would have happened but there was no turning back.
I was now in my maternal protective mode. I had to protect then both. From themselves and each other. Not an easy task for anyone, but given the tight quarters we were facing flying home together was freaking me out. I had no idea how Bob could make that flight without a cigarette or a drink.
All these thoughts were going through my head while I was in that car and as we pulled up to the meeting place, I felt a weight lift off of my shoulders. Bob had made it past hurdle number one.
He wanted to get into that meeting as much as I wanted him to be there.
There really is such a thing as a miricle and that evening Bob experienced another miricle of sorts.
We were the first people to arrive at the meeting and the man who was leading asked Bob if he would do the honor of leading the group. Bob accepted and by doing so he would have no excuse to leave early.
The man's name was Ray. I will never forget that he saved Bob's life that night. They had an instant bond. In England it is a bit different that over in the States.
The person leading the meeting has to tell his story. I felt that we were really being protected that night.
Bob poured his heart out that night and instead of many different stories everyone there rallied around Bob and his honesty. He actually begged for their help and told them how he didn't think he could make it without a drink that night.
Ray told his story and as bad as Bob was feeling at the moment his heart went out to Ray. Ray told the group how his beloved daughter had passed away a year ago and how his marriage had fallen apart behind it. It was probably the only story that could top the pain that Bob was feeling. He may have lost his daughter's affection on this trip, but she was still alive and he would have an opportunity pehaps in the future to make it up to her.
Ray on the other hand would never have another chance to tell his daughter how much he loved and adored her. She was truly lost forever. It was a glimmer of light at the end of a long painful two days.
Ray was so taken by Bob and he related to how much that Bob wanted to drink, that he actually drove us back to our hotel and spent two hours with Bob in the coffee shop talking and comforting him. While they were talking I went to check on Matt and Marisa to make sure that they were ok and to let them know that we were back at the hotel. Marisa took really good care of feeding and entertaining Matt so they were just fine. I was emotionally on pins and needles. I just prayed that I could keep it together for all our sakes.
What an amazing gift Ray was that night. By the time he left it was well over 2am and we had to be at the airport at 7am. No time for drinking fighting or anything but sleeping.
Bob's last words when he got back to the room were, "I don't know if I can make it without a drink (there was a mini bar in the room), but I will try. That was enough for me. I kissed him good night and thanked him for trying.
At that point it was all about reverse phycology. I could not lecture him or tell him what would happen if he did drink. He already knew and as far as he was concerned there wasn't much left to live for that night. The words that had spilled from Marisa's mouth would haunt him forever. No matter how much in the years to come we would all try to pretend that they were never uttered they were always lurking in the back of our minds.
In all the years I knew him and all the fights we had experience neither of us had ever stooped to the level that she did. No one ever wanted anything but for him to be sober, she went beyond compassion with tough love into hatred. It forever altered my opinion of her and I really felt sorry for her. She obviously had some major major issues.
I had been kicked out of my house years before and it never occured to me to hate my parents, I simply was stunned. But I loved her and I needed to get her back home to her mom in one emotional piece also. I alwasy used to say no one gets to be like they are by themselves. We are shaped by our childhood and our parents and given the fact that she spent most of her time with her Mom and her family the damage was irreversable.
Whatever love she used to have for her father had been altered and it was heartbreaking to watch them both suffering like they were. I rose to the occassion and did my best to mother the two of them. Matt was just a dream, so loving to them both. He was always there for his Dad. And his Dad adored him for that love.
August 12, 2007
Becoming Stephanie
I woke up this morning with the lingering distaste of something that was told to me, hence I wrote the previous blog last night.
I must have had a very restless night and I woke up remembering another strange dream.
I have had several in the past week.
While in Las Vegas last week, I had one of the most vivid dreams of my life. It was so real I can still remember it. When Matt and his girlfriend got back to the room, I told him the following story:
I was watching TV in the room and all of a sudden walking towards me from in front of the Television was a little girl. She came and sat on the bed with me and I touched her and told her I was so surprised because I was sure that she must have been a dream and now I was touching a real girl. It was very comforting to not be alone in the hotel room and I was happy to have her with me.
I was touching her hair and talking to her.
The next thing I know is the door opened quite loudly and I was alone and awake.
I started to tell Matt about this and even he said it seemed strange that I was having a dream and talking about dreaming in it.
Whatever it was, either my imagination or someone in the spirit world visiting me I of course will never know, but I still feel the lingering presence of a very sweet little girl.
Maybe that little girl was the sweet girl I used to adore in Marisa. I treated her with so much love and kindness always. Even when I knew how much she was changing I tried to be kind to her. That didn't mean I agreed with her, but I simply allowed her to reveal her true self and saw less and less of her.
Perhaps I was missing those long lost wonderful days, filled with love and hope for the future. Maybe I was missing the sweet and kind child that has turned into a rather cold woman in so many ways so much like her father with a propensity for the same addictive relief.
They both love the Trancs to calm them down. She likes the Xanax and he loved the Valium. The only exception is that she isn't aware of the path she is on, no matter how I tried to tell her years ago to be careful of that. The apple does not fall far from the tree as they say.
Last night I dreamt of romance. That is certainly out of the question for me who seems to be at the top of her jaded ways. But there it was, in living color another bad boy, much like Bob.
Imagine dreaming of a handsome man with an edge, Sober no less in AA. I have vowed to myself I will never ever get involved with another alcoholic. There is just too much of a gamble to ever go there again.
How could I be dreaming of being attracted to someone with the same addiction issues. Am I just missing Bob? Who knows? It wasn't his face up there on a movie screen of my dreams.
That is enough to have me running to a shrink. What is it about me that would be so attracted to another problem relationship. That is the exact reason I refuse to date.
The fear of another terrible outcome just for the momentary pleasure of being in love or lust, who knows. I only know one thing for sure, If I like a man, he is going to be trouble. That is my type. Trouble with a capital T.
I look around and I have yet to see happiness in couples who are together. The initial joy is never sustained. Young or old, it always ends up the same.
I am convinced most people stay in a relationship because they need the company or they do not want the stigma of being alone.
I never feel alone and I certainly don't fear it. I think I am blessed by always having been a loner. My entire life I would rather sit in my room alone as a young girl even, listening to my music or simply being alone with my thoughts.
Sometimes I think it is because I did not grow up with my natural parents and though I was loved and adored, it was different. I child feels the difference to the core of their soul. I just didn't have a strong bond like I have with my son. I was always treated like the honored guest I think.
The pain of the last few years of my marriage were enough of a cure for me. Being Alone seemed like the prize not the punishment to me.
So today I would rather focus on the past good times in the end, when Bob had his girlfriend to take it out on and not me.
Which brings me to this point in the subject matter.
Why do people always hurt the ones they love? Is it because they think they won't loose them? Do they think it is part of the "relationship" I have no idea.
I do know that I never got along better with Bob than when I was not living with him and we were in the process of getting the divorce.
Our friendship was stronger than ever, we actually enjoyed our brief time together when we did manage to have dinner or see a movie. All of his demons were no longer my problem and I only saw the good side of him. I now had the luxury of removing myself from his presence if things got ugly. He would simply have to go home to his condo alone or he could go to the house he shared with Linda.
I felt sorry for them both. They had each found themselves in the other, it was a hell of a price to pay for romance.
I must have had a very restless night and I woke up remembering another strange dream.
I have had several in the past week.
While in Las Vegas last week, I had one of the most vivid dreams of my life. It was so real I can still remember it. When Matt and his girlfriend got back to the room, I told him the following story:
I was watching TV in the room and all of a sudden walking towards me from in front of the Television was a little girl. She came and sat on the bed with me and I touched her and told her I was so surprised because I was sure that she must have been a dream and now I was touching a real girl. It was very comforting to not be alone in the hotel room and I was happy to have her with me.
I was touching her hair and talking to her.
The next thing I know is the door opened quite loudly and I was alone and awake.
I started to tell Matt about this and even he said it seemed strange that I was having a dream and talking about dreaming in it.
Whatever it was, either my imagination or someone in the spirit world visiting me I of course will never know, but I still feel the lingering presence of a very sweet little girl.
Maybe that little girl was the sweet girl I used to adore in Marisa. I treated her with so much love and kindness always. Even when I knew how much she was changing I tried to be kind to her. That didn't mean I agreed with her, but I simply allowed her to reveal her true self and saw less and less of her.
Perhaps I was missing those long lost wonderful days, filled with love and hope for the future. Maybe I was missing the sweet and kind child that has turned into a rather cold woman in so many ways so much like her father with a propensity for the same addictive relief.
They both love the Trancs to calm them down. She likes the Xanax and he loved the Valium. The only exception is that she isn't aware of the path she is on, no matter how I tried to tell her years ago to be careful of that. The apple does not fall far from the tree as they say.
Last night I dreamt of romance. That is certainly out of the question for me who seems to be at the top of her jaded ways. But there it was, in living color another bad boy, much like Bob.
Imagine dreaming of a handsome man with an edge, Sober no less in AA. I have vowed to myself I will never ever get involved with another alcoholic. There is just too much of a gamble to ever go there again.
How could I be dreaming of being attracted to someone with the same addiction issues. Am I just missing Bob? Who knows? It wasn't his face up there on a movie screen of my dreams.
That is enough to have me running to a shrink. What is it about me that would be so attracted to another problem relationship. That is the exact reason I refuse to date.
The fear of another terrible outcome just for the momentary pleasure of being in love or lust, who knows. I only know one thing for sure, If I like a man, he is going to be trouble. That is my type. Trouble with a capital T.
I look around and I have yet to see happiness in couples who are together. The initial joy is never sustained. Young or old, it always ends up the same.
I am convinced most people stay in a relationship because they need the company or they do not want the stigma of being alone.
I never feel alone and I certainly don't fear it. I think I am blessed by always having been a loner. My entire life I would rather sit in my room alone as a young girl even, listening to my music or simply being alone with my thoughts.
Sometimes I think it is because I did not grow up with my natural parents and though I was loved and adored, it was different. I child feels the difference to the core of their soul. I just didn't have a strong bond like I have with my son. I was always treated like the honored guest I think.
The pain of the last few years of my marriage were enough of a cure for me. Being Alone seemed like the prize not the punishment to me.
So today I would rather focus on the past good times in the end, when Bob had his girlfriend to take it out on and not me.
Which brings me to this point in the subject matter.
Why do people always hurt the ones they love? Is it because they think they won't loose them? Do they think it is part of the "relationship" I have no idea.
I do know that I never got along better with Bob than when I was not living with him and we were in the process of getting the divorce.
Our friendship was stronger than ever, we actually enjoyed our brief time together when we did manage to have dinner or see a movie. All of his demons were no longer my problem and I only saw the good side of him. I now had the luxury of removing myself from his presence if things got ugly. He would simply have to go home to his condo alone or he could go to the house he shared with Linda.
I felt sorry for them both. They had each found themselves in the other, it was a hell of a price to pay for romance.
Being Enlightened
So what has happened to me emotionally and intellectually during my lifetime? I have become more than enlightened in the ways of the world. Unfortunately life has forever altered me and some would say not in a good way.
I have had to go into survival mode on so many levels. I feel like a man who has the pleasure and the burden of protecting their loved ones.
I have gone into warrior mentality, not by choice but by necessity. All my senses are heightened and I am aware of perhaps more than I want to be aware of.
I no longer trust anyone to be what they appear on the outside to be.
My mind always reserves the right to disprove what they are saying. I know that most people have their own agenda, we no longer live in a kind world. It has become a survival of the fittest world.
The weak have always been run over by the strong. I choose not to ever be weak again.
In the past two years I have lost everything that was important to me except my son.
I have lost the ability to believe in people and kindness. I used to be so naive and Bob would get very upset with me and tell me how ridiculous I was to trust everyone. Unfortunately, he was so right.
He had the ability to see right through people. He could judge them in a second and know who they really were. It was a gift that held him in good standing while practicing law in his younger years.
He could see the lies in their eyes. If you recall earlier I told a story about how he knew his cousin would be killed by his former best friend. The court mediator thought he was crazy. Less than a week later, his cousin would indeed be murdered by his friend.
I did have the luxury of finally listening to Bob, the last couple of years of his life. He was relatively clean and sober and when you had a sober Bob you were in the presence of brilliance.
I have never known a more insightful or brilliant mind. It was one of the most attractive things about him, besides he good looks.
He called it every time. He humbled me in so many ways and in the end I took advantage of his tutoring me in the ways of life and the world.
He had overcome so many obstacles in his life with his battling his addiction.
He too had suffered the loss of so many things. None of them material. I think it started when he lost his mother. He was consumed by all the things he did to disappoint her. He was torchered by the loss of his daughter's love of him, and baffled how he offered her so much and got really nothing in return except her wanting more of his money and not his time.
He rarely spoke of his brother's lack of approval it was just too deep and painful to talk about. He loved him but they were never close in the 25 years that I had know them. Not close like I am with my brother, who I can call up and just talk and he will listen to what is going on in my life. I think it was probably the reason Bob and Richard were so close, Bob could talk to him and Richard would listen. He regarded Richard as a brother and in his way he rewarded that kindness by helping Richard get a house. Richard never judged him like so many did, he simply saw the good side and couldn't even conceive a the things that were going on when Bob was drinking.
Bob's father was one of the most generous people I have ever known,he too rewarded people who were loyal to him with great kindness. Don't get me wrong, they both could be very tough and I would hate to be on the bad side of either of them. But they both had a balance between tough and kind that balanced them out.
I loved being influenced by that kind of generosity. I really wanted to follow in their loving footsteps, BUT it is a different world now. People are different, there is a world full of opportunists even loved ones can become opportunists. I told Matt I think I went to sleep one night and work up as DAD.
I now tend to see the world totally different than many people who I used to be surrounded by. I no longer have the luxury of pretending and keeping my mouth shut and hope that all the uncomfortable things that life throws my way, will just vanish.
I no longer have a shoulder to lean on or the strength of a man. Actually the strengh I thought I was leaning on crumbled into a pile of dust anyway. The illusion of security, just vanished in a moment of truth one night a little over two years ago.
The woman I had been died that fateful night also, but I didn't realize it at the moment that my life would be altered in so many ways. That night I lost my other half, the half that kept the lid on outrageous thoughts for the most part.
The metamorphose has been complete. Sometimes welcomed and sometimes not.
I'm a woman, living in a man's world. Much like Jane Austin I don't want to play the part that society deems fit for a female. Where the hell is society when, I'm facing financial ruin at the hands of a man, who is in charge of a simple act like delivering a check on time.
In two years I watched my credit rating plummet at the hands of a man, and had to spend ten thousand dollars on an attorney just to get my checks delivered by the first of the month. I was not supposed to fight for anything, and believe me, the opinion that man has of me is probably not good. How dare I question a man? A professional old man at that. A man who can't really remember things as it was glaring out at me during the final phase of me finishing up my part of probate, my divorce. This man "thought" he had already paid me back my legal fees. Does anyone think that I would forget that? Whatever.
Tonight I was reminded of one very important thing. I would rather be respected than liked because no matter what I do someone always seems to be bothered.
Oh, I used to be liked, adored or possibly even loved. Who knows. Today as I sit here I would rather be a force to reckon with than the weak, meek or simple minded who seem to dominate the world today. Nothing gets past my eagle eyes or my perception. I have finally become more like a man in my thinking than a woman. I cringe at remembering my old subservient ways. It makes me ashamed that I allowed so many things to happen to me. Marisa said it best when she reminded me that I should have never even trusted her father by not reading certain documents pertaining to my divorce. TRUST NO ONE once again screams out loud.
It's like being trained as a warrior. Every sense is heightened. That's survival mode. You can't help it. It just is. Nothing gets past me of importance, it doesn't make people comfortable.
Has there ever been a President of any country that was loved and adored by Everyone?
Hell no. Do they seem to care? Just think of Clinton or Bush. It's part of the job description. Half the country or more will end up despising you, regardless if they voted for them or not. The price of power is walking a lonely road. There are no friends just faces who either need you or want something from you.
At least the Politicians can blame their unpopularity on Partisan Politics. I can only blame myself for the separatist I have become.
I feel like I mostly identify with Jane Austin of all people. God forbid a woman should point out the inequities of the sexes. Or not want to depend on a man. Because trust me, I know that the price I paid for that false security came at way too high a price. One that destroys the meek. I was heading down that road until I had a miraculous recovery in my mind. I just will not give in to popular opinion of me or anything. Whatever I think or do not think I still end up in the same position Alone with my thoughts.
I can only tell you that I would not change anything about my outspoken personality for anyone. What are the choices? I could go back to crying and whining about my fate, or I can take the higher ground and make things happen for myself. A very unpopular thing for woman to do. Society puts woman into little boxes.
One day I was speaking to an insurance agent about getting a life insurance policy for myself and he said he was surprised because it is not something that woman do.
It's 2007 for gods sake. It is still a man's world.
I fell like since I've had to deal with men on their playing field, lawyers accountants insurance brokers etc. they view woman like children, "We should be seen and not heard".
I played the game for years and where did it get me? It got me an accurate view of life and a family that really doesn't know what it means to be a family.
There is no point on being a people pleas er. It is a waste of my time. People end up having something to say anyway. In life, it seems people are damned if they do and damned if they don't. So if those are the odds what the hell, there is nothing to loose but truth itself. Tell it like it is.It's why I choose to remain a lone ranger. I wouldn't have it any other way.
Tonight I had an interesting situation where something got back to me. It's funny how the human mind is quick to point the finger away from the truth. Hell I'm happy I threaten people enough to have them still talking about me, as I said earlier this evening,I must be getting back on top of my game.
A smart woman is a dangerous thing to handle. Especially when there is no reason left to sensor truth any longer. If you run with me, be prepared to hear it that way I see it. Mostly very, very truthful. I do have a tendency to hold the mirror up and make people look into it.
I had to learn the hard way that in the end the only thing that really matters is how a person views themselves. "To thine own self be true" someone once uttered.
It is my motto, can't live it any other way any more. I spent too many years trying to please the people that in the end turned their backs on me for greed or for the fear that I knew too much and would and could dare to speak the truth.
Well here it is, the truth the whole truth and nothing but the truth as I have written several times in the past. The pen is so much mightier than the sword. Words cut deeper than a knife.
Is it a curse to see through the haze of polite society, perhaps. It certainly does separate the men from the boys. Truth has never been for the weak, it brings grown men to their knees others to criminal acts.
So imagine me, a petite little blond with the insight to see right past all the bull shit and niceties of polite society. It is not a welcomed trait to poses.
Most people would much rather talk about you behind your back and pretend to share your same feelings. Not me. I have lost the sensible ability to sensor myself.
Mostly when I have this overwhelming need to speak the unspeakable. Whether or not it is well received. I do make some people uncomfortable but there is only one person in my entire world that matters to me, Matt. The rest are just players in the play of life. In a couple of years I won't even remember most of their names.
At least when I check out of this life in my final golden years I will have done it without fear of what others think of me. I already know and have always known.
They either fear or hate me. You know that old saying, "Don't hate me because I'm beautiful"? That has been my life with the exception of my former husband and my son.
I have walk a solitary road for so many years. I never tried to be popular even back in high school, I found the jealousy of being my self something that alienated my friend from me. People like to hang out with clones of themselves. That way they don't see the need to change.
It's a double whammy to look like I do and see through the bullshit and tell it like it is. I just don't care anymore what people think of me.
I wouldn't want to be a member of a club that wanted me anyway, as W C Fields said.
I want to listen to the beat of my own drums not someone else's.
I have had to go into survival mode on so many levels. I feel like a man who has the pleasure and the burden of protecting their loved ones.
I have gone into warrior mentality, not by choice but by necessity. All my senses are heightened and I am aware of perhaps more than I want to be aware of.
I no longer trust anyone to be what they appear on the outside to be.
My mind always reserves the right to disprove what they are saying. I know that most people have their own agenda, we no longer live in a kind world. It has become a survival of the fittest world.
The weak have always been run over by the strong. I choose not to ever be weak again.
In the past two years I have lost everything that was important to me except my son.
I have lost the ability to believe in people and kindness. I used to be so naive and Bob would get very upset with me and tell me how ridiculous I was to trust everyone. Unfortunately, he was so right.
He had the ability to see right through people. He could judge them in a second and know who they really were. It was a gift that held him in good standing while practicing law in his younger years.
He could see the lies in their eyes. If you recall earlier I told a story about how he knew his cousin would be killed by his former best friend. The court mediator thought he was crazy. Less than a week later, his cousin would indeed be murdered by his friend.
I did have the luxury of finally listening to Bob, the last couple of years of his life. He was relatively clean and sober and when you had a sober Bob you were in the presence of brilliance.
I have never known a more insightful or brilliant mind. It was one of the most attractive things about him, besides he good looks.
He called it every time. He humbled me in so many ways and in the end I took advantage of his tutoring me in the ways of life and the world.
He had overcome so many obstacles in his life with his battling his addiction.
He too had suffered the loss of so many things. None of them material. I think it started when he lost his mother. He was consumed by all the things he did to disappoint her. He was torchered by the loss of his daughter's love of him, and baffled how he offered her so much and got really nothing in return except her wanting more of his money and not his time.
He rarely spoke of his brother's lack of approval it was just too deep and painful to talk about. He loved him but they were never close in the 25 years that I had know them. Not close like I am with my brother, who I can call up and just talk and he will listen to what is going on in my life. I think it was probably the reason Bob and Richard were so close, Bob could talk to him and Richard would listen. He regarded Richard as a brother and in his way he rewarded that kindness by helping Richard get a house. Richard never judged him like so many did, he simply saw the good side and couldn't even conceive a the things that were going on when Bob was drinking.
Bob's father was one of the most generous people I have ever known,he too rewarded people who were loyal to him with great kindness. Don't get me wrong, they both could be very tough and I would hate to be on the bad side of either of them. But they both had a balance between tough and kind that balanced them out.
I loved being influenced by that kind of generosity. I really wanted to follow in their loving footsteps, BUT it is a different world now. People are different, there is a world full of opportunists even loved ones can become opportunists. I told Matt I think I went to sleep one night and work up as DAD.
I now tend to see the world totally different than many people who I used to be surrounded by. I no longer have the luxury of pretending and keeping my mouth shut and hope that all the uncomfortable things that life throws my way, will just vanish.
I no longer have a shoulder to lean on or the strength of a man. Actually the strengh I thought I was leaning on crumbled into a pile of dust anyway. The illusion of security, just vanished in a moment of truth one night a little over two years ago.
The woman I had been died that fateful night also, but I didn't realize it at the moment that my life would be altered in so many ways. That night I lost my other half, the half that kept the lid on outrageous thoughts for the most part.
The metamorphose has been complete. Sometimes welcomed and sometimes not.
I'm a woman, living in a man's world. Much like Jane Austin I don't want to play the part that society deems fit for a female. Where the hell is society when, I'm facing financial ruin at the hands of a man, who is in charge of a simple act like delivering a check on time.
In two years I watched my credit rating plummet at the hands of a man, and had to spend ten thousand dollars on an attorney just to get my checks delivered by the first of the month. I was not supposed to fight for anything, and believe me, the opinion that man has of me is probably not good. How dare I question a man? A professional old man at that. A man who can't really remember things as it was glaring out at me during the final phase of me finishing up my part of probate, my divorce. This man "thought" he had already paid me back my legal fees. Does anyone think that I would forget that? Whatever.
Tonight I was reminded of one very important thing. I would rather be respected than liked because no matter what I do someone always seems to be bothered.
Oh, I used to be liked, adored or possibly even loved. Who knows. Today as I sit here I would rather be a force to reckon with than the weak, meek or simple minded who seem to dominate the world today. Nothing gets past my eagle eyes or my perception. I have finally become more like a man in my thinking than a woman. I cringe at remembering my old subservient ways. It makes me ashamed that I allowed so many things to happen to me. Marisa said it best when she reminded me that I should have never even trusted her father by not reading certain documents pertaining to my divorce. TRUST NO ONE once again screams out loud.
It's like being trained as a warrior. Every sense is heightened. That's survival mode. You can't help it. It just is. Nothing gets past me of importance, it doesn't make people comfortable.
Has there ever been a President of any country that was loved and adored by Everyone?
Hell no. Do they seem to care? Just think of Clinton or Bush. It's part of the job description. Half the country or more will end up despising you, regardless if they voted for them or not. The price of power is walking a lonely road. There are no friends just faces who either need you or want something from you.
At least the Politicians can blame their unpopularity on Partisan Politics. I can only blame myself for the separatist I have become.
I feel like I mostly identify with Jane Austin of all people. God forbid a woman should point out the inequities of the sexes. Or not want to depend on a man. Because trust me, I know that the price I paid for that false security came at way too high a price. One that destroys the meek. I was heading down that road until I had a miraculous recovery in my mind. I just will not give in to popular opinion of me or anything. Whatever I think or do not think I still end up in the same position Alone with my thoughts.
I can only tell you that I would not change anything about my outspoken personality for anyone. What are the choices? I could go back to crying and whining about my fate, or I can take the higher ground and make things happen for myself. A very unpopular thing for woman to do. Society puts woman into little boxes.
One day I was speaking to an insurance agent about getting a life insurance policy for myself and he said he was surprised because it is not something that woman do.
It's 2007 for gods sake. It is still a man's world.
I fell like since I've had to deal with men on their playing field, lawyers accountants insurance brokers etc. they view woman like children, "We should be seen and not heard".
I played the game for years and where did it get me? It got me an accurate view of life and a family that really doesn't know what it means to be a family.
There is no point on being a people pleas er. It is a waste of my time. People end up having something to say anyway. In life, it seems people are damned if they do and damned if they don't. So if those are the odds what the hell, there is nothing to loose but truth itself. Tell it like it is.It's why I choose to remain a lone ranger. I wouldn't have it any other way.
Tonight I had an interesting situation where something got back to me. It's funny how the human mind is quick to point the finger away from the truth. Hell I'm happy I threaten people enough to have them still talking about me, as I said earlier this evening,I must be getting back on top of my game.
A smart woman is a dangerous thing to handle. Especially when there is no reason left to sensor truth any longer. If you run with me, be prepared to hear it that way I see it. Mostly very, very truthful. I do have a tendency to hold the mirror up and make people look into it.
I had to learn the hard way that in the end the only thing that really matters is how a person views themselves. "To thine own self be true" someone once uttered.
It is my motto, can't live it any other way any more. I spent too many years trying to please the people that in the end turned their backs on me for greed or for the fear that I knew too much and would and could dare to speak the truth.
Well here it is, the truth the whole truth and nothing but the truth as I have written several times in the past. The pen is so much mightier than the sword. Words cut deeper than a knife.
Is it a curse to see through the haze of polite society, perhaps. It certainly does separate the men from the boys. Truth has never been for the weak, it brings grown men to their knees others to criminal acts.
So imagine me, a petite little blond with the insight to see right past all the bull shit and niceties of polite society. It is not a welcomed trait to poses.
Most people would much rather talk about you behind your back and pretend to share your same feelings. Not me. I have lost the sensible ability to sensor myself.
Mostly when I have this overwhelming need to speak the unspeakable. Whether or not it is well received. I do make some people uncomfortable but there is only one person in my entire world that matters to me, Matt. The rest are just players in the play of life. In a couple of years I won't even remember most of their names.
At least when I check out of this life in my final golden years I will have done it without fear of what others think of me. I already know and have always known.
They either fear or hate me. You know that old saying, "Don't hate me because I'm beautiful"? That has been my life with the exception of my former husband and my son.
I have walk a solitary road for so many years. I never tried to be popular even back in high school, I found the jealousy of being my self something that alienated my friend from me. People like to hang out with clones of themselves. That way they don't see the need to change.
It's a double whammy to look like I do and see through the bullshit and tell it like it is. I just don't care anymore what people think of me.
I wouldn't want to be a member of a club that wanted me anyway, as W C Fields said.
I want to listen to the beat of my own drums not someone else's.
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