Well today I am veering off the topic of my blog to write a post for Amnesty International. The topic I am choosing to right about is something that I have personal knowledge of. Domestic Abuse in Affluent families.
It does not matter what your financial background is in order to experience the fear of being abused by the person whom you love and trusted not to harm you, but it really happens everyday. Just think about Nicole Simpson and how the police who went to her home to protect her were simply enamored with OJ being a star. Where was the help for her? She lived in a mansion in Brentwood. OJ told the police it was her problem and they were happy to believe him. It's like a good ole boys club. I wonder what the numbers of police men who abuse their wives or children are? I know it happens all over the country.
The world does not understand why affluent women are afraid to leave or have their spouses arrested. These men hire hire priced attorney's to get them off the hook. They can afford to buy their way out. Poor people don't have that luxury.
The problem is it is almost impossible to get help from a family because as I know first hand the old expression was "We do not wash our dirty laundry in public." That's how my former husband was taught and that is what he insisted be the rules in our home.
The first time I was beat up I think I reacted like many women, I simply brushed it off to his being drunk. Actually when I met him he was 28 years old and drunk every night. It is what ended his marriage at such a young age. But I did not know that at the time. His former wife did not bother to confide that little fact to me. She probaby believed someplace in her head, that it was her fault. I whole heartedly believed he was just venting his anger about how much he was losing in the divorce and being separated from his daughter who was two at the time. I thought he would simply sober up on his own and heal from his divorce. I was also newly divorced but with no children so I really felt sorry for him when every Sunday he was literally in tears when he returned his daughter to her mom and his old house. I was smitten by his sensitivity and his love of his child. Little did I know that many people with alcohol problems cry about a lot of things. It's a great way to get sympathy and keep drinking. I sure fell for it. After all he was highly educated, an assistant deputy DA and as good looking as any famous actor in LA and his family owned a movie studio no less. He had it all going for him. I was in love.
It was a wonderful warm Palm Springs night the first time he ever laid a hand on me. As women who have been abused will often acknowledge it will not take much to set a violent tempered person who is drinking into a rage. I simply told him I was tired and I thought since it was 3 am maybe he should get some sleep and stop drinking so we could have a nice early day.
I had been looking forward to sitting out by the hotel pool to get a tan.
WELL, before I knew it, I had two black eyes and was simply in shock. this was the man who I fell head over heals in love with, 5 months before this. I had told all my friends how amazing he was and that I was going to marry him. Well needless to say that ended our Palm Springs birthday get away. We drove home the next morning in silence. Of course there was no remorse, he said it was my fault for upsetting him. I often hear that from the victim. Reverse psychology is quite common I have learned over the years.
I did not tell have the courage to tell any of my close friends what happened, but confided in a woman I had just recently me through him at a club.She told me to pack a bag and stay with her which I did. I was humiliated. How could this happen to ME. I did not come from an abusive household, neither parents drank except one drink on a holiday. I was not emotionally prepared for this. I was the adored only girl in the family. I had nothing to draw from, I was in foreign water to be sure. Back then no one spoke about Domestic Abuse or quite frankly Alcoholism for that matter.
But like so many women, he kept calling me asking me to come back, he was so sorry. It would never happen again.
I'm not going to chronicle the many more incidents themselves but focus on the lack of help for being abused that I got.
When he broke into my apartment in a drunken rage while I was gone, when I called the police they didn't even take it seriously, It was simply an area they didn't get involved with. Domestic Issues. This was back in the late 70's.
I don't think they believed me. Even though a neighbor had called the police, helicopters where hovering over my place and the front door was kicked in. The police didn't care. They said I couldn't prove it was him. The Hell I couldn't. There wasn't a thing missing or broken. He was looking for me because I had a friends, good friend staying in my extra bedroom and he didn't like that. We were not even living together because of his drinking and his temper. He was gunning for me or perhaps the couple who was supposed to stay with me. They were so afraid they left and checked into a hotel. It meant nothing to anyone that I was terrified. That's emotional abuse and it hurts just as much as a slap.
It was my problem to deal with. Not the police or my friends wanted to stick around. There is no sympathy. The victim is just thought to be an idiot for sticking around.
I have learned that there were two definite personalities to my abuser. The kind loving man who I just adored, and the man that could break your nose or you cheek bone like he did mine.
What is it that keeps women like myself in an abusive relationship? Is it that we really believe we deserved to be abused.. I think in the back of my mind I always felt somewhat responsible for setting him off because I always defended myself which just angered him more.
I was not a wishy washy coward but I talked back. That was the biggest problem for him, there should be no reasoning with him when he was angry.
In later years after we got married he wasn't drinking and the anger was still there. It usually ended up with the door taking the brunt of it. But it didn't matter because he had the money to repair whatever he wrecked. The family did not need to be involved.
Then I was expecting our first child. He was sober and angry and he actually kicked me in the stomach. Lucky for me the baby was ok. He took me to his father's house and his housekeeper took care of me while he calmed down.
It was never talked about. The only person who even listened was the housekeeper. She told me to keep calm, and have the baby and no matter what happened this child would always be mine. I have a feeling she knew what I'd been through herself, but even she stayed in an abusive marriage. She managed to live in my father in laws home five days a week to escape.
Here we were from two different worlds and yet we were in the same boat. Feeling like you had to stay in the marriage.
Too many people were involved in our lives and of course I did know what I had gotten myself into when I married him.
Once again, I took full responsibility for what had happened to me.
It was now 1984, I had no place else to go quite frankly. I could never afford to raise a child on my meager hair dressers income. I felt trapped. It was never an option in my mind to go live in the ghetto, where I could afford the rent on my own.
I was spoiled by my life style. I did not want to give it up, plus I married him through sobriety and he had not taken a drink.
I could not break my vows. I did not even say for better or for worse when I married him. I simply said through sobriety.
He didn't pick up a drink for 14 years but his anger did not go away. Our son seemed to calm him down for years. He was very happy to have another family. I felt that he had outgrown his violent side. I was dead wrong. The abuse had turned to verbal abuse. Little by little over the years he tried to break me down with insults. Lucky for me I was strong and never believed these insults to be true. I give my family credit for loving and adoring me so much that my self esteem was always very good. It's what saved me from total melt down. It's also what made him ever angrier most of the time. I would stick up for myself. When the insults were aimed at my family, I stuck up for them also. I actually got good at arguing with a lawyer.
I learned that he would not fight fair and he used everything I loved and picked it apart and threw it in my face. Then of course he would apologize and buy me something nice. I was not above taking the payoff for silence back then. Even though I loved to say to him that "He could not buy me," I was still there wasn't I? He did buy me, I just didn't admit it to myself.
I lived in a beautiful English Tutor in Malibu.
When he finally did pick up that drink, I now had to think about how much my son loved him. He was an amazing father. He never lifted a finger to our son. This only made me feel like it was more my fault. He started going back to the martial arts in sobriety which really helped him to release all that pent up need to hit something. When he got his Black Belt somehow the need to stay sober was not a priority any longer. He had been taking pain pills and back then I had no idea how much closer to drinking he was getting every day.
All the signs were there that the Volcano was going to erupt, but of course, I did not want to admit it. His family thought he was never going to pick up a drink again, and my family didn't know much about his past, because I didn't want them to know.
I hid it from them.
I went to Al-Anon for years and even they don't want to talk about it. They would tell me to focus on me, not the problem.
I simply did not know how to separate the two issues.
I think Abuse is the ultimate trap. If you seek help, your entire life as you knew it will be lost forever. Because there is no permanent cure for Anger. Not even "Anger Management". If you leave, you are guaranteed to live a sub-standard life style because there isn't a court in the world that can give you as much money as you had together as a family, and your children will reap the effects of that choice. If you stay, you believe you deserve whatever happens to you. You feel you sold your soul for a life style and quite frankly you have.
After my husband picked up that first drink, it took me six years to actually leave him. Before I could bat an eye lash, he was in another relationship with a woman who looked like we could be sisters. Ten days was al it took to be replaced. It was one of my biggest fears. I had thought that he loved me enough to get and stay sober again. I was wrong.
His drinking and trying to get sober was hell on him also. His anger got him into fights and one time it ended up resulting in 9 pins in his right arm and almost the use of it. The last time he was facing 3 years in prison for slashing his landlords tires an threatening some workers with a large hunting knife.
It was then that I really believed that I was not his problem, but it took almost 20 years for me to accept that. In the end, his addiction not his anger got the best of him. He was so terrified of going to prison he never picked up another drink, he died falling off a balcony with a belly full of Valium.
I was questioned for murder because I was with him when he died. He was grieving for his girlfriend who had hung herself ten days earlier. That was the ultimate act of Violence. She punished him for his being angry with her for not staying sober one more time and she was totally jealous of our continuing relationship with our son. We always put his feelings first. We were having a more than civil divorce when he died suddenly.
In the end, even though he died because of a fall, I was questioned for murder by the police and the coroner. I guess they knew his history. But knowing how he was, I would have been responsible for his death if another physical incident were involved. Thank god he didn't hit me. They would have never believed me.
Today I feel there really is no way out, you suffer no matter what you choose. If you stay you will suffer, if you leave you and your children and the family will be torn apart.
I believe that violence and addiction are closely related as many do. but I also know that it goes much deeper than that because the abuser doesn't need alcohol to fuel the rage. It's something just in them. And in my experience therapy did not help either of us.
I was simply addicted to him or maybe the abuse. No one has ever given me a clear picture of why I stayed for so long, or why I stayed silent for so long.
.
May 15, 2008
February 05, 2008
Matt's Accomplishments
In spite of a terrible living situation for me Matt's first year at Menlo. He thrived.
In order to compensate for the fact that living in the Bay area was a far cry from what Matt thought it was going to be, he had visions of living in luxury like every other time we had gone to San Francisco in the past, his Grandfather had always arranged amazing luxurious accommodations. The family owned the Hyatt on Sunset along with the Sunset Gower Studios, and his grandfather always managed to get us suites to stay in. His grandfather used to call Matt, "The Little Prince," and in his own way that was how he was treated by everyone in our family. Once his Grandfather even got us the Presidential suite at the Hyatt on Union square. Now that is something to behold.
So when his dad and I rented a track house in a little middle class neighborhood in Foster City, with dirty orange carpets no less, he definetly was not a happy camper. To make up for the his dissappointment, I tried to make this place as much like home as I could, We even got him a piano so that he could continue to play it. (That' another Post for the future.)
It seemed to Matt that every dream he had of moving was not at all his new reality. To make up for our location,I took him to San Francisco every friday after school so that he did not feel like we totally ignored what he loved about San Francisco, Japan Town and the best Video store in town. He had started to amass quite a collection of Japanese animation at the time, which really helped his speaking the language with absolutely no accent to a Japanese person.
Till this day Matt is able to navigate the city of San Francisco better than most people who live on the Peninsula. I used to live and work there before I moved to LA and I knew that city like the back of my hand.
Of course by going to Japan Town every weekend the first stop was always the video store where we left with tons of Japanese Animation and classice Kourasawa films. This only enhanced his already vast knowledge of Japan and understanding the language.
He was so immersed into the entire culture even before going to high school and he actually had learned to understand it from watching animation in Japanese with English subtitles ever since grade school.
I could never get him to wake up in the morning for school and one day while flipping through the morning TV shows I stumbled upon a cartoon series that had "talking cats'.
Little did I know that "Sailor Moon" would be the catalyst to an entire new world for him. It was the beginning of his love of everythig Japanese.
Although he had studied the Martial Arts and gotten a black belt at ten years old, this sealed the deal, so to speak.
After winning the respect of his Japanese teacher, she put him up as a competitor in the much respected Japanese language contest. This in itself was unheard of.
It was not a competition that caucasians were entered in to. Not only did he compete he went on to take third place.
Now that in itself is a mystery. He was so much more proficient that the other two winners, but the award of first place was NEVER given to a non asian. The judges begrgingly had to give the award to him, asian or not. He was simply better than then all.
This lead to his being put up for a Rotary scholorship for a home study in Japan.
Not surprizing Matt won the Scholorship. He was fifteen years old and had barely ever had a sitter. Now he was off to Japan with two girls who did not speak the language. I was so proud of him and at the same time beyond nervous at him going away for a few months. This was the kid that barely survived his one trip to summer camp literally 25 miles down the road in Malibu.
But Matt was thriving at his new school. He was in his element and soaring to new heights. Who was I to stop him? It was the whole reason we moved up North in the fist place, so that Matt could be in a school that taught Japanese. I literally never dreamed that he would be so great at it.
My life on the other hand had become tragic. I would take Matt to school and come home and go back to sleep for a few hours.
I was really good at hiding it from Matt because I never wanted him to know what a wreck I really was. In the beginning his Dad would still come to visit us a couple of times a month, but we were pretty much on our own.
So I enrolled Matt into a Kendo class because he had always wanted to study the art of the Samurai. It was a good diversion for me also.
I really liked the instructors at the school and it was great physical training for Matt. He loved the uniform also, very cool, it looked like an ancient warrior outfit and the shinai were wood not real swords so he wasn't really going to hurt himself.
The first class would have had me running out the door and never come back. They did over 200 repetitions for the first warm up exercise of their swords over their heads. He couldn't move his arms the rest of the week. But he went back week after week.
To give you a little example of how scattered my head was, one night we just got home and the phone rang as I was taking his equipment out of the trunk. I ran into the house to get it and it was his Dad calling to see how the class had gone. I totally spaced out and left his big bag with all his equipment behind my car. The next morning late for school again, I backed out of the garage, right on top of his gear and crushed his crush proof helmet.
I was so mortified by my stupidity, but all I could do was laugh. Matt did not speak to me for several days he was so upset with me. One for ruining his equipment and two for laughing about it. I really think I must have been more affected by the anti-depressants my new doctor had given me then I ever remembered. What in the world would make me laugh at such a thing? It wasn't funny to see my son so upset. I stopped taking the anti-depressants. Talk about being in the clouds. I needed to be grounded. There was a lot going on in our world and the only thing positive about it was Matt's accomplishments and his new found activity.
The first year of school was coming to an end which meant Matt was off on his Japanese adventure and I was going back to Malibu to our home. I was nervous about both. I had not lived alone with his father while he was in and out of sobriety since before we got married. I did not know how I was going to handle it. I did not know if he would stay sober or be taking his pills or drinking. I was a nervous wreck. Matt had always given me the excuse to leave the room when I got nervous.
Now What?
In order to compensate for the fact that living in the Bay area was a far cry from what Matt thought it was going to be, he had visions of living in luxury like every other time we had gone to San Francisco in the past, his Grandfather had always arranged amazing luxurious accommodations. The family owned the Hyatt on Sunset along with the Sunset Gower Studios, and his grandfather always managed to get us suites to stay in. His grandfather used to call Matt, "The Little Prince," and in his own way that was how he was treated by everyone in our family. Once his Grandfather even got us the Presidential suite at the Hyatt on Union square. Now that is something to behold.
So when his dad and I rented a track house in a little middle class neighborhood in Foster City, with dirty orange carpets no less, he definetly was not a happy camper. To make up for the his dissappointment, I tried to make this place as much like home as I could, We even got him a piano so that he could continue to play it. (That' another Post for the future.)
It seemed to Matt that every dream he had of moving was not at all his new reality. To make up for our location,I took him to San Francisco every friday after school so that he did not feel like we totally ignored what he loved about San Francisco, Japan Town and the best Video store in town. He had started to amass quite a collection of Japanese animation at the time, which really helped his speaking the language with absolutely no accent to a Japanese person.
Till this day Matt is able to navigate the city of San Francisco better than most people who live on the Peninsula. I used to live and work there before I moved to LA and I knew that city like the back of my hand.
Of course by going to Japan Town every weekend the first stop was always the video store where we left with tons of Japanese Animation and classice Kourasawa films. This only enhanced his already vast knowledge of Japan and understanding the language.
He was so immersed into the entire culture even before going to high school and he actually had learned to understand it from watching animation in Japanese with English subtitles ever since grade school.
I could never get him to wake up in the morning for school and one day while flipping through the morning TV shows I stumbled upon a cartoon series that had "talking cats'.
Little did I know that "Sailor Moon" would be the catalyst to an entire new world for him. It was the beginning of his love of everythig Japanese.
Although he had studied the Martial Arts and gotten a black belt at ten years old, this sealed the deal, so to speak.
After winning the respect of his Japanese teacher, she put him up as a competitor in the much respected Japanese language contest. This in itself was unheard of.
It was not a competition that caucasians were entered in to. Not only did he compete he went on to take third place.
Now that in itself is a mystery. He was so much more proficient that the other two winners, but the award of first place was NEVER given to a non asian. The judges begrgingly had to give the award to him, asian or not. He was simply better than then all.
This lead to his being put up for a Rotary scholorship for a home study in Japan.
Not surprizing Matt won the Scholorship. He was fifteen years old and had barely ever had a sitter. Now he was off to Japan with two girls who did not speak the language. I was so proud of him and at the same time beyond nervous at him going away for a few months. This was the kid that barely survived his one trip to summer camp literally 25 miles down the road in Malibu.
But Matt was thriving at his new school. He was in his element and soaring to new heights. Who was I to stop him? It was the whole reason we moved up North in the fist place, so that Matt could be in a school that taught Japanese. I literally never dreamed that he would be so great at it.
My life on the other hand had become tragic. I would take Matt to school and come home and go back to sleep for a few hours.
I was really good at hiding it from Matt because I never wanted him to know what a wreck I really was. In the beginning his Dad would still come to visit us a couple of times a month, but we were pretty much on our own.
So I enrolled Matt into a Kendo class because he had always wanted to study the art of the Samurai. It was a good diversion for me also.
I really liked the instructors at the school and it was great physical training for Matt. He loved the uniform also, very cool, it looked like an ancient warrior outfit and the shinai were wood not real swords so he wasn't really going to hurt himself.
The first class would have had me running out the door and never come back. They did over 200 repetitions for the first warm up exercise of their swords over their heads. He couldn't move his arms the rest of the week. But he went back week after week.
To give you a little example of how scattered my head was, one night we just got home and the phone rang as I was taking his equipment out of the trunk. I ran into the house to get it and it was his Dad calling to see how the class had gone. I totally spaced out and left his big bag with all his equipment behind my car. The next morning late for school again, I backed out of the garage, right on top of his gear and crushed his crush proof helmet.
I was so mortified by my stupidity, but all I could do was laugh. Matt did not speak to me for several days he was so upset with me. One for ruining his equipment and two for laughing about it. I really think I must have been more affected by the anti-depressants my new doctor had given me then I ever remembered. What in the world would make me laugh at such a thing? It wasn't funny to see my son so upset. I stopped taking the anti-depressants. Talk about being in the clouds. I needed to be grounded. There was a lot going on in our world and the only thing positive about it was Matt's accomplishments and his new found activity.
The first year of school was coming to an end which meant Matt was off on his Japanese adventure and I was going back to Malibu to our home. I was nervous about both. I had not lived alone with his father while he was in and out of sobriety since before we got married. I did not know how I was going to handle it. I did not know if he would stay sober or be taking his pills or drinking. I was a nervous wreck. Matt had always given me the excuse to leave the room when I got nervous.
Now What?
January 13, 2008
STEPH'S FIRST YEAR AT MENLO
While Matt was adjusting to his new life up North so was I. Funny how the little things that I used to take for granted were so difficult to find.
I couldn't seem to find my way in the sea of complicated "Rich Wife's" of the Silicon Valley. Now that should be a movie or a reality show because I have never seen such a bunch of uptight women in my life.
Fist of all the fact that a woman marries money does not in my opinion warrant any type of respect. I was used to hanging out in the PTA with my idol, Pat Benetar. Now that was someone I could really admire and respect.
I found that up in Northern California you seemed to be the sum and substance of you frickin zip code. Even the head master at the school looked at me funny when I told him we were living in Foster City. Ohhhhhh forgive me if it doesn't fit into the profile of the elite. I took great pleasure in NOT telling people anything about our house in Malibu. I wanted them to get to know me for me, it didn't seem important to throw that into the mix or tell them that our family owned the Sunset Gower Studios because I had a really funny experience with telling that fact to a piano salesman up there.
Our best friend Bill who was Bob's closest friend from the days they actually went to Menlo as boarding students and then off to Stanford together called Bob one day because something had come up about me in a staff meeting. Seems that one of the Spanish teacher's at the school was married to the man who came over to tune the new piano we bought for Matt.
She was sitting next to Bill at the meeting and when Matt came up, she leaned over and whispered in his ear that her husband had heard him play the piano brilliantly and it was too bad that his Mother was a Porn Producer.
Bill pulled her out of the meeting and wanted to know where she heard that one from. She told him her husband had told her.
Little did she know that we were best friends. Bill called Bob without telling me to have a meeting with the man who was spreading these rumors around.
Bob flew up and had the meeting with Bill and the guy. The objective was to have him apologize and take back the statements his wife was spreading. Being a Latin man with such a large ego, he simply refused. He felt that there was no damage caused because the story had not leaked into the school yet.
Bob was furious. He tried to reason with the man and asked him how he would feel if his wife's reputation was being ruined by a ridiculous fantasy that the piano salesman had made up.
It seems that because, not to boast, but I am quite stunning to look at for the area compared to many of the woman I've seen up there myself. The salesman had never heard of our Studio and simply assumed I had to be into the porn industry because I can be somewhat Sexy at times. But how sexy could I have been in my sweats offering the piano tuner a glass of water and asking him if he had any kids and did they play the piano?
Lecherous men would have ruined my son's reputation at school and this guy could have cared less. He refused to apologize and walked away from the meeting.
Bill went to the Head Master and told him what had been said about me. Just so it would not get around the school.
My reputation was left intake but my feelings for the place were now on high alert.
I was stunned quite frankly, I had never met this woman and she was more than willing to gossip about me and my son. How dare she.
This wasn't the first time I had dealings with a woman up at the school. When I first started I had gone to a meeting to get involved with the Fund raising committee. I had so many years of experience with that in Malibu I thought I could just walk in and get started helping. Boy was I wrong. The woman who's committee I was with only wanted the title and she delegated most of the work to me. Now I didn't have a problem helping, but I had only been in the area for four weeks and I simply could not do everything she asked me to do. I asked her why she wasn't doing any of the stuff herself. She was livid that I would question her. Seems she had more important things to do like run for some position on the city council. This title was just a feather in her cap and she didn't have time for the work involved.
She didn't know who I was or how little I was about to eat shit from her. I busted her to the Chairman of the committee and resigned. I told her she would have to do the work herself, I wasn't her personal slave.
That was the end of my formal involvement at the higher levels of school activities.
I realized that I was too blond, too hot and too popular with the kids to be accepted at this place. I was just happy to sit in the circle after school waiting to pick up my son with the top down on my car, holding court. Matt would come out of class and sometimes pick me up and twirl me around, His friends loved us. We were a breath of fresh air to that stuffy little world of the elite. Thank God we didn't fit in. No matter how much plaid I wore, I was never going to be a Prep Mom. I didn't have the pedigree or the right mailing address. So now we were both free to be ourselves. We were different and happy to be so.
We had to find a way to be happy there and NOT fit in. We didn't like what we saw up there.
I used to call the area one big makeover disaster. I never saw so many people who needed a makeover as bad as up there. I didn't even try to have any friends up there beside Bill, Nancy and Angie. It was a lot easier to hide the fact that we really were a dysfunctional family just trying to get our son a great education. I can only imagine what the talk would have been if the school community really knew the truth.
I couldn't seem to find my way in the sea of complicated "Rich Wife's" of the Silicon Valley. Now that should be a movie or a reality show because I have never seen such a bunch of uptight women in my life.
Fist of all the fact that a woman marries money does not in my opinion warrant any type of respect. I was used to hanging out in the PTA with my idol, Pat Benetar. Now that was someone I could really admire and respect.
I found that up in Northern California you seemed to be the sum and substance of you frickin zip code. Even the head master at the school looked at me funny when I told him we were living in Foster City. Ohhhhhh forgive me if it doesn't fit into the profile of the elite. I took great pleasure in NOT telling people anything about our house in Malibu. I wanted them to get to know me for me, it didn't seem important to throw that into the mix or tell them that our family owned the Sunset Gower Studios because I had a really funny experience with telling that fact to a piano salesman up there.
Our best friend Bill who was Bob's closest friend from the days they actually went to Menlo as boarding students and then off to Stanford together called Bob one day because something had come up about me in a staff meeting. Seems that one of the Spanish teacher's at the school was married to the man who came over to tune the new piano we bought for Matt.
She was sitting next to Bill at the meeting and when Matt came up, she leaned over and whispered in his ear that her husband had heard him play the piano brilliantly and it was too bad that his Mother was a Porn Producer.
Bill pulled her out of the meeting and wanted to know where she heard that one from. She told him her husband had told her.
Little did she know that we were best friends. Bill called Bob without telling me to have a meeting with the man who was spreading these rumors around.
Bob flew up and had the meeting with Bill and the guy. The objective was to have him apologize and take back the statements his wife was spreading. Being a Latin man with such a large ego, he simply refused. He felt that there was no damage caused because the story had not leaked into the school yet.
Bob was furious. He tried to reason with the man and asked him how he would feel if his wife's reputation was being ruined by a ridiculous fantasy that the piano salesman had made up.
It seems that because, not to boast, but I am quite stunning to look at for the area compared to many of the woman I've seen up there myself. The salesman had never heard of our Studio and simply assumed I had to be into the porn industry because I can be somewhat Sexy at times. But how sexy could I have been in my sweats offering the piano tuner a glass of water and asking him if he had any kids and did they play the piano?
Lecherous men would have ruined my son's reputation at school and this guy could have cared less. He refused to apologize and walked away from the meeting.
Bill went to the Head Master and told him what had been said about me. Just so it would not get around the school.
My reputation was left intake but my feelings for the place were now on high alert.
I was stunned quite frankly, I had never met this woman and she was more than willing to gossip about me and my son. How dare she.
This wasn't the first time I had dealings with a woman up at the school. When I first started I had gone to a meeting to get involved with the Fund raising committee. I had so many years of experience with that in Malibu I thought I could just walk in and get started helping. Boy was I wrong. The woman who's committee I was with only wanted the title and she delegated most of the work to me. Now I didn't have a problem helping, but I had only been in the area for four weeks and I simply could not do everything she asked me to do. I asked her why she wasn't doing any of the stuff herself. She was livid that I would question her. Seems she had more important things to do like run for some position on the city council. This title was just a feather in her cap and she didn't have time for the work involved.
She didn't know who I was or how little I was about to eat shit from her. I busted her to the Chairman of the committee and resigned. I told her she would have to do the work herself, I wasn't her personal slave.
That was the end of my formal involvement at the higher levels of school activities.
I realized that I was too blond, too hot and too popular with the kids to be accepted at this place. I was just happy to sit in the circle after school waiting to pick up my son with the top down on my car, holding court. Matt would come out of class and sometimes pick me up and twirl me around, His friends loved us. We were a breath of fresh air to that stuffy little world of the elite. Thank God we didn't fit in. No matter how much plaid I wore, I was never going to be a Prep Mom. I didn't have the pedigree or the right mailing address. So now we were both free to be ourselves. We were different and happy to be so.
We had to find a way to be happy there and NOT fit in. We didn't like what we saw up there.
I used to call the area one big makeover disaster. I never saw so many people who needed a makeover as bad as up there. I didn't even try to have any friends up there beside Bill, Nancy and Angie. It was a lot easier to hide the fact that we really were a dysfunctional family just trying to get our son a great education. I can only imagine what the talk would have been if the school community really knew the truth.
Matt's First Year at Menlo
It was a difficult first year for Matt. He had really thought we would be living in the heart of San Francisco in some amazing high rise condo with City views. Instead we were in a middle class neighborhood in "Foster Shitty" as I used to call it.
Far cry from our home in Malibu. We planted ourselves in the middle of a tract house section of the Peninsula side of the City.
Matt of course had left all his friends behind and didn't really fit into the prep school attitude, which turned out to be one of the best things for him.
First thing he told me was that there was no way in hell that he was going to cut his hair, wear khaki pants and brown shoes to school. I didn't care, I just wanted him to be himself. So off he would go with his black leather jackets and his shades on everyday.
On the weekends I made an effort to go up to the city every weekend. We would find ourselves in Japan town having dinner, buying Japanese videos, going to the movies and sometimes going to JapanBowl and bowling. It's gone now, but it was really cool.
I just immersed him in his passion for all things Japanese he did love that part of it.
He was starting to be noticed in school by his peers for being really cool and different. He just has that very cool vibe to him.
He became friends with this amazing upperclassman student in his Japanese Class. Nicole would have a very lasting effect on him. She was the first person to actually recognize his humor and encouraged him to try out for Drama. It's a good thing he was so smitten with her because that was the beginning of him actually finding his passion.
One day Matt came home and asked me to cut his hair short, I was pretty surprised by his request. I asked him how short and he said "really short". I found out later that Nicole, who had this beautiful long red hair halfway down her back had cut it all off. He would follow suit. She inspired him it seems. They became friends, but in high school the age difference is too great for a freshman to date an upperclassman and that is all it would ever be.
His school was so different from Malibu, There was a lot going on socially there because it wasn't isolated like he was used to and little by little he started doing stuff with some of his friends. He also started to take Kendo, a martial art that he was always interested in. I will never forget the first class he attended. The instructor had them do over one hundred strokes with their "shenei swords" Made out of bamboo, it was long and not too heavy, but after all those strokes, he couldn't move his arm for a week. He loved it and stuck it out for a year.
He didn't forget his best friend from Malibu and invited her to go to the Prom with him even. I knew he missed our house but he did seem to be thriving more than he ever did in Malibu. He was no longer isolated at home in front of his computer screen.
The thing that impressed me most about this school was the fact that they actually took an interest in every child in the school and would have staff meetings to discuss how a kid was doing.
One of the first things that came to my attention about how Bad his education at Malibu High was the day I got a call from the Math department. Seems the advanced Math that was taught to him in Malibu simply did not prepare him for the math class he was placed in. I told the school that I would not allow Matt to be punished and put back into a lower math class for the inadequacies of his former school The math teacher there who had a Phd. From Stanford tutored him for six months and he was now up to speed in the class. I didn't have to pay for her services, that's how concerned they were about his progress.
Matt's Japanese teacher also really took to him. She was so blown away with the fact that he came into her class with no formal training and understood the language and could speak it. At first he didn't want to let her know just how much he understood without her help. He was a little bit shy about it, but she did encourage him and even entered him in the Japanese contest up North which he placed in the top three. The only Caucasian to do so. She submitted him for the rotary club's exchange program and he was chosen. He got to go to Japan for six weeks and live with a family there. It was a remarkable year for us all.
Bob and I were so proud of him and not even our drama could interfere with all Matt's accomplishments. At the end of his first year of school Matt was given several awards which were a very big deal at this school.
The Love of Learning Award
The Japanese Language Award etc.
With all these accolades there was another bit of drama that was going on in the background for me that year. I had never been involved in a private school before. Matt had only gone to public schools where the parents, especially in Malibu were really cool. After all, there are plenty of celebrities and wealthy people all around town, I wasn't impressed by the Silicon Valley money nor the uptight attitude of some of the parents. Boy was I ever in for a surprise.
Far cry from our home in Malibu. We planted ourselves in the middle of a tract house section of the Peninsula side of the City.
Matt of course had left all his friends behind and didn't really fit into the prep school attitude, which turned out to be one of the best things for him.
First thing he told me was that there was no way in hell that he was going to cut his hair, wear khaki pants and brown shoes to school. I didn't care, I just wanted him to be himself. So off he would go with his black leather jackets and his shades on everyday.
On the weekends I made an effort to go up to the city every weekend. We would find ourselves in Japan town having dinner, buying Japanese videos, going to the movies and sometimes going to JapanBowl and bowling. It's gone now, but it was really cool.
I just immersed him in his passion for all things Japanese he did love that part of it.
He was starting to be noticed in school by his peers for being really cool and different. He just has that very cool vibe to him.
He became friends with this amazing upperclassman student in his Japanese Class. Nicole would have a very lasting effect on him. She was the first person to actually recognize his humor and encouraged him to try out for Drama. It's a good thing he was so smitten with her because that was the beginning of him actually finding his passion.
One day Matt came home and asked me to cut his hair short, I was pretty surprised by his request. I asked him how short and he said "really short". I found out later that Nicole, who had this beautiful long red hair halfway down her back had cut it all off. He would follow suit. She inspired him it seems. They became friends, but in high school the age difference is too great for a freshman to date an upperclassman and that is all it would ever be.
His school was so different from Malibu, There was a lot going on socially there because it wasn't isolated like he was used to and little by little he started doing stuff with some of his friends. He also started to take Kendo, a martial art that he was always interested in. I will never forget the first class he attended. The instructor had them do over one hundred strokes with their "shenei swords" Made out of bamboo, it was long and not too heavy, but after all those strokes, he couldn't move his arm for a week. He loved it and stuck it out for a year.
He didn't forget his best friend from Malibu and invited her to go to the Prom with him even. I knew he missed our house but he did seem to be thriving more than he ever did in Malibu. He was no longer isolated at home in front of his computer screen.
The thing that impressed me most about this school was the fact that they actually took an interest in every child in the school and would have staff meetings to discuss how a kid was doing.
One of the first things that came to my attention about how Bad his education at Malibu High was the day I got a call from the Math department. Seems the advanced Math that was taught to him in Malibu simply did not prepare him for the math class he was placed in. I told the school that I would not allow Matt to be punished and put back into a lower math class for the inadequacies of his former school The math teacher there who had a Phd. From Stanford tutored him for six months and he was now up to speed in the class. I didn't have to pay for her services, that's how concerned they were about his progress.
Matt's Japanese teacher also really took to him. She was so blown away with the fact that he came into her class with no formal training and understood the language and could speak it. At first he didn't want to let her know just how much he understood without her help. He was a little bit shy about it, but she did encourage him and even entered him in the Japanese contest up North which he placed in the top three. The only Caucasian to do so. She submitted him for the rotary club's exchange program and he was chosen. He got to go to Japan for six weeks and live with a family there. It was a remarkable year for us all.
Bob and I were so proud of him and not even our drama could interfere with all Matt's accomplishments. At the end of his first year of school Matt was given several awards which were a very big deal at this school.
The Love of Learning Award
The Japanese Language Award etc.
With all these accolades there was another bit of drama that was going on in the background for me that year. I had never been involved in a private school before. Matt had only gone to public schools where the parents, especially in Malibu were really cool. After all, there are plenty of celebrities and wealthy people all around town, I wasn't impressed by the Silicon Valley money nor the uptight attitude of some of the parents. Boy was I ever in for a surprise.
The Passage of Time
As I re-read my posts even I have to admit there is so much repetitive stuff in it I get confused as to when the events took place and how we managed to survive them.
To make things clear, I was again in the middle of a five year cycle of drinking, getting sober, rehabs and sporadic episodes of drug induced anger and temporary insanity on my part.
I was simply going crazy living in the eye of Bob's storm. I desperately wanted an escape from the madness of our daily lives since Bob's relapse. The only relief any of us had was the fact that Matt and I now lived apart from Bob and that was a really good thing because Matt could have never excelled in school if Bob was living with us full time. He just needed too much attention and the focus was always on him and his issues. But it was not possible for me to be there for him like that any longer. I made a choice when we came back from Paris that I could no longer enable him like before. He was going to have to grow up and I was not going to be his Mom, I was going to put my mothering skills to use where they needed to be, on our son.
Even when he did come to stay it always ended up the same, he just couldn't be there because his demons were just too great during those years. He needed to be alone and do whatever it was his alcoholism was driving him to do. It was better not to know first hand what he was up too, the only clues I had were on the Credit Card bills. It really was a terrible time in my life.
The funny thing is that even during those four years apart, I never really felt apart from him until the end. I always felt he would get through it and stay sober like the first time.
It certainly was wishful thinking on my part, but the bottom line was that there really wasn't much I could do, I had to stay focused on being a stable Mom for our son. He needed me to be there for him, not spend all my time worrying about what Bob was up to.
It wasn't easy for any of us but what choice did we have. At a certain point in ones life you have to make choices and I need to provide our son with a stable home life, it was what he needed and deserved.
It was amazing how well we did seem to get along without Bob there. There was no chaos or arguing about anything. In the past there was so much tension in the house whether it was because Matt was up too late or actually anything that Bob wanted to focus on besides wanting a pill or a drink.
I do have to say we tried going to AA meetings up North, but even I had to admit that Bob was just not ever going to fit in with that crowd. There is just way to much differences in our lifestyle in Southern California and Northern California.
Bob found himself in a world that was foreign to him. Guys in those meetings were working 9-5 jobs and Bob didn't work.
In Malibu it seemed none of the people in the meetings had normal working hours. LA is so different. Bob was a fish out of water I have to admit.
I have so many different opinions about AA myself, sometimes it is more important to just have someone you can relate to instead of an entire room where you feel uncomfortable. Besides quite frankly AA didn't work for him, his GF in the end or Henry, who you will hear about later.
The years were passing by for Matt's high school experience up North and he was for the first time coming into his own.
I was so proud of his achievements.
He became a star up there literally on stage and in the Japanese classroom.
I knew that we had made the right choice for his life. Bob probably would be doing the same thing wherever he was.
Matt was thriving, that was the most important thing to me.
To make things clear, I was again in the middle of a five year cycle of drinking, getting sober, rehabs and sporadic episodes of drug induced anger and temporary insanity on my part.
I was simply going crazy living in the eye of Bob's storm. I desperately wanted an escape from the madness of our daily lives since Bob's relapse. The only relief any of us had was the fact that Matt and I now lived apart from Bob and that was a really good thing because Matt could have never excelled in school if Bob was living with us full time. He just needed too much attention and the focus was always on him and his issues. But it was not possible for me to be there for him like that any longer. I made a choice when we came back from Paris that I could no longer enable him like before. He was going to have to grow up and I was not going to be his Mom, I was going to put my mothering skills to use where they needed to be, on our son.
Even when he did come to stay it always ended up the same, he just couldn't be there because his demons were just too great during those years. He needed to be alone and do whatever it was his alcoholism was driving him to do. It was better not to know first hand what he was up too, the only clues I had were on the Credit Card bills. It really was a terrible time in my life.
The funny thing is that even during those four years apart, I never really felt apart from him until the end. I always felt he would get through it and stay sober like the first time.
It certainly was wishful thinking on my part, but the bottom line was that there really wasn't much I could do, I had to stay focused on being a stable Mom for our son. He needed me to be there for him, not spend all my time worrying about what Bob was up to.
It wasn't easy for any of us but what choice did we have. At a certain point in ones life you have to make choices and I need to provide our son with a stable home life, it was what he needed and deserved.
It was amazing how well we did seem to get along without Bob there. There was no chaos or arguing about anything. In the past there was so much tension in the house whether it was because Matt was up too late or actually anything that Bob wanted to focus on besides wanting a pill or a drink.
I do have to say we tried going to AA meetings up North, but even I had to admit that Bob was just not ever going to fit in with that crowd. There is just way to much differences in our lifestyle in Southern California and Northern California.
Bob found himself in a world that was foreign to him. Guys in those meetings were working 9-5 jobs and Bob didn't work.
In Malibu it seemed none of the people in the meetings had normal working hours. LA is so different. Bob was a fish out of water I have to admit.
I have so many different opinions about AA myself, sometimes it is more important to just have someone you can relate to instead of an entire room where you feel uncomfortable. Besides quite frankly AA didn't work for him, his GF in the end or Henry, who you will hear about later.
The years were passing by for Matt's high school experience up North and he was for the first time coming into his own.
I was so proud of his achievements.
He became a star up there literally on stage and in the Japanese classroom.
I knew that we had made the right choice for his life. Bob probably would be doing the same thing wherever he was.
Matt was thriving, that was the most important thing to me.
October 28, 2007
Nothing was getting easy
My last post was about my court hearing well a very shocking event took place instead of that court hearing, I have another blog on myspace www.myspace.com/stephaniepick if you are interested. I have found that I need to keep two separate blogs going because there is so much to write about my present that it starts to get confusing even to me to mix them up. So I'm heading back to my past again.
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Life was not really getting back to normal there was no trust left in the marriage and no matter how many band aids we tried to put on the problems they just were not going away.
Bob's temper was always short and I simply focused on keeping the peace if I could, I was simply too tired to fight.
I found myself keeping a filled overnight bag in my car for those moments when he would follow me around from room to room just trying to argue. We argued about everything it seemed now.
Here I was raising our son, taking care of him, the house, all the bills, etc. while he was going to one meeting a day. That was it. Now his sobriety was important, don't get me wrong, but our life wasn't the same.
I no longer believed that all this isolation was going to keep him sober and I was right, it didn't. But along with that knowledge I was also not willing to be the submissive wive. There no longer was a reason too. Now when he was out of control I simply walked out of the door into my car and drove off. I would not tolerate it ever again.
We were all in foreign waters believe me.
Then one day the focus became the Internet of all things. I guess Bob just needed something to be mad about so he started getting at Matt for being on his computer.
Little did Bob know that it was the one escape from our nightmare that his son could retreat from without getting into any trouble. Bob viewed it as a fantasy world and never really understood that there were real people behind those names. Only in the end did he sort of get it when he himself signed up on myspace. He never told me I logged into my blog and found his profile as one of my readers. He got it, but he was spying on me. I wasn't doing anything but he had wondered.
One day he was screaming so loud I had locked myself into the bathroom and would not come out. I could not deal with his temper. I guess several of the neighbors heard him and came over. They told him if he didn't stop they were going to call the Police. I think it must have scarred him because when I heard them, I unlocked the door and bolted to my car. He did not follow.
We were living in hell and didn't even know it. It was the beginning of the Valium Years as I like to refer to them. Dangerous drug in my opinion. You simply never know when they are taking it, and at the time I did not know how addicted to it he had become and would always be. It was his new drug of choice for a long time.
How Bob got around taking any kind of pills were his real history of back and knee problems. There is no law against taking these pills especially when you have legitimate physical issues. He started having multiple surgeries on his knees, then it was a terrible hemorrhoid operation that went wrong for him.
He had been completely honest with the Doctor about his past history with pills and I must say this was the first and only doctor in all the years of living with Bob, that he could not get pills out of. The doctor gave him a few pain pills and only two Valium. Bob wanted more Percocette and a bottle of Valium. The doctor would not give them to him.
I will never forget our next nightmare. It was Labor Day weekend and in Malibu there is an annual Chili Cook off that we always went to with our son. It had a carnival and always was a great way to end the Summer. There was literally nothing more I could do to help Bob. He had to take it easy and was just laying in Bed, so I told him I was going to take Matt to the carnival for a while.
This is normal in any family. It was not a life threatening surgery and anyone will tell you, it is painful and uncomfortable. But there was no reason to sit there and wait on him hand and foot all day. I took Matt out to have some fun.
When we got back home all hell broke loose. He was crazy, screaming at me about how I was neglecting him and whatever else he was spewing out. It was another nightmare day with Bob on pills.
It's funny as I write this stuff that I actually realize just how much damage all these events left on my brain. I was always trying to protect myself from his outrageous theory's about what was real and what was not. You would have thought I committed an act of violence against him by leaving the house for two hours. It was insanity. That is the only way to explain any of this. Pill induced insanity.
When I spoke with his brother even he said that Bob could not be given Percocette.
This stuff went right to his brain and made him crazy.
I really don't know if he was in any sort of drug withdrawal from Valium at the time, but I do know looking back at this event it seems like it now. He made me drive him down to the doctor's office to get more of them and when he only gave him two I thought he was going to go out of his skin. It's how it affected him when I knew he was in withdrawal.
Bob had become really good at getting Valium and he had several doctors all over town that were prescribing different things for him. He simply knew how to work the system. This doctor must have had a feeling that he didn't want to be another one of Bob's pill pushers. I wish I could say that about all his other doctors.
They just gave him whatever he wanted because he was so nice to them. Little did they know how not so nice he was when he needed more of them. In the beginning even I didn't know what it was.
I used to blame everything on "dry drunks". The behavior was so erratic I will never really know for sure.
These next several years seem to blend in together. Separate vacations arguments about everything from his father to his daughter and everything in between.
The worst part of all this insanity was that I had promised our son that I would not divorce his father. I kept my word, but at times it was the hardest promise I had ever had to keep.
Nothing was easy. If we needed help with a homework project it would turn into a lecture. One that neither Matt nor I had any interest in let alone the time.
He never understood time management when it came to homework, bath and bedtime. To him we were his captive audience at times.
One of the nastiest unwarranted fights we ever had was when I was writing out our monthly bills as I always did and he decided to come into Matt's room and supervise. I have no idea what he was really mad at, but it turned so ugly and so nasty that I almost left him forever right then and there.
He started criticizing my family for no reason and then he ended it by telling Matt all these horrible made up stories about me. Can you imagine my poor son sitting there having to listen to his dad spewing hatred toward his mother? None of which was true, but he either wanted a drink or a pill. That's how it always started.
Pick a terrible unforgivable fight so that he could justify drinking or using.
The three of us were living in hell, yet there seemed no escape.
I couldn't even pray, I felt that God had abandoned me and I was angry. For all the years and times I had saved this man's life, and given him such a good life, this is how he repaid me. It did not matter that when he calmed down he would send me flowers or buy me something nice. I started refusing all gifts. I did not want to be bought like so many women I know. I simply did not have it in me to turn the other cheek for a diamond ring.
Over the years living in Malibu you hear of these stories of women who stick it out all because of their security. They don't love their husbands at all, I see it all the time. That was one hell of a price I did not want to pay. If it had not been for my promise to our son to not get a divorce, who knows how our lives would have ended up.
Perhaps had I had the courage to leave earlier, maybe he would never have met the "girlfriend". We will never know.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Life was not really getting back to normal there was no trust left in the marriage and no matter how many band aids we tried to put on the problems they just were not going away.
Bob's temper was always short and I simply focused on keeping the peace if I could, I was simply too tired to fight.
I found myself keeping a filled overnight bag in my car for those moments when he would follow me around from room to room just trying to argue. We argued about everything it seemed now.
Here I was raising our son, taking care of him, the house, all the bills, etc. while he was going to one meeting a day. That was it. Now his sobriety was important, don't get me wrong, but our life wasn't the same.
I no longer believed that all this isolation was going to keep him sober and I was right, it didn't. But along with that knowledge I was also not willing to be the submissive wive. There no longer was a reason too. Now when he was out of control I simply walked out of the door into my car and drove off. I would not tolerate it ever again.
We were all in foreign waters believe me.
Then one day the focus became the Internet of all things. I guess Bob just needed something to be mad about so he started getting at Matt for being on his computer.
Little did Bob know that it was the one escape from our nightmare that his son could retreat from without getting into any trouble. Bob viewed it as a fantasy world and never really understood that there were real people behind those names. Only in the end did he sort of get it when he himself signed up on myspace. He never told me I logged into my blog and found his profile as one of my readers. He got it, but he was spying on me. I wasn't doing anything but he had wondered.
One day he was screaming so loud I had locked myself into the bathroom and would not come out. I could not deal with his temper. I guess several of the neighbors heard him and came over. They told him if he didn't stop they were going to call the Police. I think it must have scarred him because when I heard them, I unlocked the door and bolted to my car. He did not follow.
We were living in hell and didn't even know it. It was the beginning of the Valium Years as I like to refer to them. Dangerous drug in my opinion. You simply never know when they are taking it, and at the time I did not know how addicted to it he had become and would always be. It was his new drug of choice for a long time.
How Bob got around taking any kind of pills were his real history of back and knee problems. There is no law against taking these pills especially when you have legitimate physical issues. He started having multiple surgeries on his knees, then it was a terrible hemorrhoid operation that went wrong for him.
He had been completely honest with the Doctor about his past history with pills and I must say this was the first and only doctor in all the years of living with Bob, that he could not get pills out of. The doctor gave him a few pain pills and only two Valium. Bob wanted more Percocette and a bottle of Valium. The doctor would not give them to him.
I will never forget our next nightmare. It was Labor Day weekend and in Malibu there is an annual Chili Cook off that we always went to with our son. It had a carnival and always was a great way to end the Summer. There was literally nothing more I could do to help Bob. He had to take it easy and was just laying in Bed, so I told him I was going to take Matt to the carnival for a while.
This is normal in any family. It was not a life threatening surgery and anyone will tell you, it is painful and uncomfortable. But there was no reason to sit there and wait on him hand and foot all day. I took Matt out to have some fun.
When we got back home all hell broke loose. He was crazy, screaming at me about how I was neglecting him and whatever else he was spewing out. It was another nightmare day with Bob on pills.
It's funny as I write this stuff that I actually realize just how much damage all these events left on my brain. I was always trying to protect myself from his outrageous theory's about what was real and what was not. You would have thought I committed an act of violence against him by leaving the house for two hours. It was insanity. That is the only way to explain any of this. Pill induced insanity.
When I spoke with his brother even he said that Bob could not be given Percocette.
This stuff went right to his brain and made him crazy.
I really don't know if he was in any sort of drug withdrawal from Valium at the time, but I do know looking back at this event it seems like it now. He made me drive him down to the doctor's office to get more of them and when he only gave him two I thought he was going to go out of his skin. It's how it affected him when I knew he was in withdrawal.
Bob had become really good at getting Valium and he had several doctors all over town that were prescribing different things for him. He simply knew how to work the system. This doctor must have had a feeling that he didn't want to be another one of Bob's pill pushers. I wish I could say that about all his other doctors.
They just gave him whatever he wanted because he was so nice to them. Little did they know how not so nice he was when he needed more of them. In the beginning even I didn't know what it was.
I used to blame everything on "dry drunks". The behavior was so erratic I will never really know for sure.
These next several years seem to blend in together. Separate vacations arguments about everything from his father to his daughter and everything in between.
The worst part of all this insanity was that I had promised our son that I would not divorce his father. I kept my word, but at times it was the hardest promise I had ever had to keep.
Nothing was easy. If we needed help with a homework project it would turn into a lecture. One that neither Matt nor I had any interest in let alone the time.
He never understood time management when it came to homework, bath and bedtime. To him we were his captive audience at times.
One of the nastiest unwarranted fights we ever had was when I was writing out our monthly bills as I always did and he decided to come into Matt's room and supervise. I have no idea what he was really mad at, but it turned so ugly and so nasty that I almost left him forever right then and there.
He started criticizing my family for no reason and then he ended it by telling Matt all these horrible made up stories about me. Can you imagine my poor son sitting there having to listen to his dad spewing hatred toward his mother? None of which was true, but he either wanted a drink or a pill. That's how it always started.
Pick a terrible unforgivable fight so that he could justify drinking or using.
The three of us were living in hell, yet there seemed no escape.
I couldn't even pray, I felt that God had abandoned me and I was angry. For all the years and times I had saved this man's life, and given him such a good life, this is how he repaid me. It did not matter that when he calmed down he would send me flowers or buy me something nice. I started refusing all gifts. I did not want to be bought like so many women I know. I simply did not have it in me to turn the other cheek for a diamond ring.
Over the years living in Malibu you hear of these stories of women who stick it out all because of their security. They don't love their husbands at all, I see it all the time. That was one hell of a price I did not want to pay. If it had not been for my promise to our son to not get a divorce, who knows how our lives would have ended up.
Perhaps had I had the courage to leave earlier, maybe he would never have met the "girlfriend". We will never know.
October 20, 2007
Imagine your family turning their backs on you
I am in the middle of another very difficult time for me. In three days I have to go to court to finalize my divorce. It is two and a half years since my former husband passed away and I have been in the probate courts ever since then. It will also be his birthday on October 27th four days after this divorce proceeding.
I am really getting a divorce from his daughter and now I guess the rest of the small family.
Now everyone knows that Death and Divorce are right up there on the stress charts as the highest stress producing events in a persons life, along with moving.
Well I have been grieving for the past two and a half years, have been dealing with probate and a divorce and I am moving. At times even I don't know how I have made it this far.
So I wrote to my former Mother in Law to see if she would like me to return a coffee table that was orignially hers, but ended up in my husbands house when his father died. Of course I am happy to return it to her and a few emails passed back and forth regarding the table.
Since she was the only one in the family left besides my son who I can discuss these things with, I sent her an email pouring my heart out about the upcoming divorce and Bob's birthday.
What I got in return was an email asking me to measure the table so that her handiman could pick it up. Nothing else. I have to say, that really upset me. Here I am pouring my guts out about my life, my feelings and all she wanted was the damn table.
This correspondence is exactly the evidence that I needed to remind myself that it is not my imagination, because sometimes I think I am being over sensitive when I feel like they just let me go, turned their back on me. Well they have.
I did not respond to her email for fear that I would say something harsh because I'm angry about the lack of concern and the way my situation ended. After a twenty year marriage, I got all the bills, half my house and $25,000 to pay off the legal bills. Another words, the left my son holding the bag on my debt, because if I loose my house so does he. Everything I have is his and at his age he should not have to bear the burden of his father's debts, especially when there was enough money to pay off half the mortgage, that was all I asked for. Because we bought a home and for years he refinanced it to pay his taxes and pay for the education of the kids.
The executor, his daughter, managed to just have the court negate that fact.
So yes I am angry and shocked, my I am not the only one, there are many people who know my family in Hollywood, because it was a very prominent family here in LA. So I didn't answer her email I simply waited to see what she would have to say in regards to me pouring my heart out to her.
I got another email regarding the table.
Well this time I couldn't help but reply with my feelings laid out. So this is what I wrote to her. These are word for word, copied and pasted below.
**************************************************************************************
I'm so sorry but I don't have a measuring tape, but I personally brought it over here in the back of my Lexus SUV from the Rambla Vista house so I know it will fit in a small SUV. You mentioned your handyman and if he has a truck it will fit just fine.
Sorry I didn't get back to you. I pretty much have been dreading next week Tuesday so much that I sent Marisa an email asking her to tell her lawyer to be nice. I don't want a repeat of the last court date and this time it will be just Matt and me in court plus I signed everything over to her over a year and a half ago That is all except the watches which Matt has not me. I'm hoping that doesn't come up. It is very traumatic because this is a divorce from her really not Bernie, he's gone.
You may have already heard about that, but I also told her to visit her father's grave and beg his forgiveness for putting Matt in such a terrible position. If I go down, he goes down with me. It's all on his shoulders now.
This is a very small town and his new investment people are simply shocked by this entire outcome after a long term marriage. All I asked for was help with the mortgage now I will never live here again because she simply refused to do the right thing.
Although I know you don't want to hear any of this either, I apologize for laying it on you. But it doesn't matter about the trust from Saul it still won't help with the mortgage So the only way to save Matt from the burden of losing his house is to move out of it.
Marisa has simply tarnished the family name. All these high power people in Town just adored Saul and I wasn't there but Matt told her my situation and she wants to meet me for lunch, she seems to think maybe she can help me even though I told her I have no money to invest. It was simply refreshing to know that I am not the only one that thinks this was so legally unfair. It's simply not OK to punish Matt because I have a Trust from Saul. So does Marisa and Matt. Bob's debt was Bob's debt. Even you don't understand the severity of the burden on him.
And I must say it's interesting that you can simply ignore any of this which I mentioned before but be so concerned about your table.
What a fascinating family.
***************************************************************************************
This is what she wrote back
STEPH,
I AM SORRY THAT YOU FEEL THE WAY YOU DO!! I DO NOT KNOW THE LEGAL DETAILS RE; THIS AND DO NOT FEEL THAT IT IS MY BUSINESS!! I ALSO DO NOT HAVE THE $$ TO HELP!! NO ONE IS SADDER THAT THE FAMILY IS SPLIT! I ADORE SAUL AND ALWAYS WILL. I TRIED TO HELP FOR AWHILE TO NO AVAIL AND SO, HAVE WITHDRAWN TOTALLY. I STILL CRY DAILY FOR THE LOSS OF MY LOVE AND CANNOT DEAL WITH THE RE-HASH OF THIS DRAMA!!
************************************************************************************
Well that just set me off. This is exactly what I have been talking about on my myspace blog. I have a cold family that only cares about themselves. My reply
**********************************************************************************
I totally understand, but that's exactly the attitude that allows people to get away with bad things. Just think of all the boy scouts, alter boys, etc., that could have been helped if someone had just taken the time to speak out.
Silence is as bad doing the deed itself.
I have had to deal with my loss, my divorce and helping Matt and myself through our grief without the family. So why the hell would I want to deal with the family two and a half years later. No one cared and still don't and that is the sad fact not fiction.
I do feel your pain, I miss Saul as much as anyone because none of what has happened to me and subsequently to Matt if he were still with us. He was the glue that bound us all together. Marisa would have never had the guts to do what she did, but everyone just kept quiet.
I may have told you a saw a psychic and there he was right there with Bob. I didn't even say anything to this person, I went in to find out if I was ever going to get out of all this debt. It was quite healing. Bob kept saying "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." I sat there stunned and crying. It was surreal. So even if the family has turned their back on me, my beloved Bob and Saul have not. It gets me through my life believe me.
So if you like you can just have someone pick up your table and I will not speak to you again, because it's my life and if you don't want to hear it I will respect that.
By the way, this is not a ReHash. I am living it. I go to court on Tuesday and people are calling me to discuss my life. People who are stunned that my beloved family turned their backs and a blind eye to my situation.
You have a way of trying to diminish things just because you don't want to hear them. Is Bob's birthday drama?
I really feel sorry for all of you.
*************************************************************************************
So there is the story of my family's attitude toward me. Lack of concern.
I am really getting a divorce from his daughter and now I guess the rest of the small family.
Now everyone knows that Death and Divorce are right up there on the stress charts as the highest stress producing events in a persons life, along with moving.
Well I have been grieving for the past two and a half years, have been dealing with probate and a divorce and I am moving. At times even I don't know how I have made it this far.
So I wrote to my former Mother in Law to see if she would like me to return a coffee table that was orignially hers, but ended up in my husbands house when his father died. Of course I am happy to return it to her and a few emails passed back and forth regarding the table.
Since she was the only one in the family left besides my son who I can discuss these things with, I sent her an email pouring my heart out about the upcoming divorce and Bob's birthday.
What I got in return was an email asking me to measure the table so that her handiman could pick it up. Nothing else. I have to say, that really upset me. Here I am pouring my guts out about my life, my feelings and all she wanted was the damn table.
This correspondence is exactly the evidence that I needed to remind myself that it is not my imagination, because sometimes I think I am being over sensitive when I feel like they just let me go, turned their back on me. Well they have.
I did not respond to her email for fear that I would say something harsh because I'm angry about the lack of concern and the way my situation ended. After a twenty year marriage, I got all the bills, half my house and $25,000 to pay off the legal bills. Another words, the left my son holding the bag on my debt, because if I loose my house so does he. Everything I have is his and at his age he should not have to bear the burden of his father's debts, especially when there was enough money to pay off half the mortgage, that was all I asked for. Because we bought a home and for years he refinanced it to pay his taxes and pay for the education of the kids.
The executor, his daughter, managed to just have the court negate that fact.
So yes I am angry and shocked, my I am not the only one, there are many people who know my family in Hollywood, because it was a very prominent family here in LA. So I didn't answer her email I simply waited to see what she would have to say in regards to me pouring my heart out to her.
I got another email regarding the table.
Well this time I couldn't help but reply with my feelings laid out. So this is what I wrote to her. These are word for word, copied and pasted below.
**************************************************************************************
I'm so sorry but I don't have a measuring tape, but I personally brought it over here in the back of my Lexus SUV from the Rambla Vista house so I know it will fit in a small SUV. You mentioned your handyman and if he has a truck it will fit just fine.
Sorry I didn't get back to you. I pretty much have been dreading next week Tuesday so much that I sent Marisa an email asking her to tell her lawyer to be nice. I don't want a repeat of the last court date and this time it will be just Matt and me in court plus I signed everything over to her over a year and a half ago That is all except the watches which Matt has not me. I'm hoping that doesn't come up. It is very traumatic because this is a divorce from her really not Bernie, he's gone.
You may have already heard about that, but I also told her to visit her father's grave and beg his forgiveness for putting Matt in such a terrible position. If I go down, he goes down with me. It's all on his shoulders now.
This is a very small town and his new investment people are simply shocked by this entire outcome after a long term marriage. All I asked for was help with the mortgage now I will never live here again because she simply refused to do the right thing.
Although I know you don't want to hear any of this either, I apologize for laying it on you. But it doesn't matter about the trust from Saul it still won't help with the mortgage So the only way to save Matt from the burden of losing his house is to move out of it.
Marisa has simply tarnished the family name. All these high power people in Town just adored Saul and I wasn't there but Matt told her my situation and she wants to meet me for lunch, she seems to think maybe she can help me even though I told her I have no money to invest. It was simply refreshing to know that I am not the only one that thinks this was so legally unfair. It's simply not OK to punish Matt because I have a Trust from Saul. So does Marisa and Matt. Bob's debt was Bob's debt. Even you don't understand the severity of the burden on him.
And I must say it's interesting that you can simply ignore any of this which I mentioned before but be so concerned about your table.
What a fascinating family.
***************************************************************************************
This is what she wrote back
STEPH,
I AM SORRY THAT YOU FEEL THE WAY YOU DO!! I DO NOT KNOW THE LEGAL DETAILS RE; THIS AND DO NOT FEEL THAT IT IS MY BUSINESS!! I ALSO DO NOT HAVE THE $$ TO HELP!! NO ONE IS SADDER THAT THE FAMILY IS SPLIT! I ADORE SAUL AND ALWAYS WILL. I TRIED TO HELP FOR AWHILE TO NO AVAIL AND SO, HAVE WITHDRAWN TOTALLY. I STILL CRY DAILY FOR THE LOSS OF MY LOVE AND CANNOT DEAL WITH THE RE-HASH OF THIS DRAMA!!
************************************************************************************
Well that just set me off. This is exactly what I have been talking about on my myspace blog. I have a cold family that only cares about themselves. My reply
**********************************************************************************
I totally understand, but that's exactly the attitude that allows people to get away with bad things. Just think of all the boy scouts, alter boys, etc., that could have been helped if someone had just taken the time to speak out.
Silence is as bad doing the deed itself.
I have had to deal with my loss, my divorce and helping Matt and myself through our grief without the family. So why the hell would I want to deal with the family two and a half years later. No one cared and still don't and that is the sad fact not fiction.
I do feel your pain, I miss Saul as much as anyone because none of what has happened to me and subsequently to Matt if he were still with us. He was the glue that bound us all together. Marisa would have never had the guts to do what she did, but everyone just kept quiet.
I may have told you a saw a psychic and there he was right there with Bob. I didn't even say anything to this person, I went in to find out if I was ever going to get out of all this debt. It was quite healing. Bob kept saying "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." I sat there stunned and crying. It was surreal. So even if the family has turned their back on me, my beloved Bob and Saul have not. It gets me through my life believe me.
So if you like you can just have someone pick up your table and I will not speak to you again, because it's my life and if you don't want to hear it I will respect that.
By the way, this is not a ReHash. I am living it. I go to court on Tuesday and people are calling me to discuss my life. People who are stunned that my beloved family turned their backs and a blind eye to my situation.
You have a way of trying to diminish things just because you don't want to hear them. Is Bob's birthday drama?
I really feel sorry for all of you.
*************************************************************************************
So there is the story of my family's attitude toward me. Lack of concern.
October 08, 2007
Indecission
What is it that makes me want to avoid writing the rest of my story some days. I will write things on my myspace blog? I guess that this is a painful journey some days and this month is extremely difficult.
I will be going to court to finalize a bogus divorce proceeding. What I mean by that is this. The court needs me to once again, verify that I have indeed given up my debtor's claim against the estate of my former husband. And yes the answer is I did drop my claim against the estate.
I did it because I will not waste any more money fighting a battle that should have never been fought in the first place. If the executor has no conscience about leaving me with all the debt of putting her and my son through school so be it. The entire family knows that I didn't spend all the debt of frivolous things.But all I get from the family these days is Silence. We helped but her through Stanford, helped with her living expenses while in New York and at Johns Hopkins even when her father was not legally obligated to do so any longer. And believe me there were times when he had to think twice because she was so cruel to him. But even after she called me and her friends wishing him dead he simply could not cut her off financially.
The other really difficult event is that it is Bob's birthday at the end of that same week, so it is with a very heavy heart that I finalize that chapter of my life. My former husband would have never argued the fact that for years he kept refinancing our home to give the two kids a great college education and the rest went to pay taxes most of the time. He would tell me that it was his job to worry about money and my job to basically do everything else around the house. So I did.
The other really difficult event is that it is Bob's birthday at the end of that same week, so it is with a very heavy heart that I finalize that chapter of my life. My former husband would have never argued the fact that for years he kept refinancing our home to give the two kids a great college education and the rest went to pay taxes most of the time. He would tell me that it was his job to worry about money and my job to basically do everything else around the house. So I did.
And in the end after the marriage had ended, Bob started a new business and he refinanced our house again and when he found himself in trouble with the law, he refinanced it once again to purchase a home. What was once a home purchased for $725,000 in the end ballooned up to over $1,400.000. That is the simple fact of Bob's way of supporting his family, and no one wants to address who is responsible for that debt.
The Estate had no difficulty establishing that I was not entitled to any of Bob's inheritance, why am I entitled to carry the burden of the debt?
Once could argue that I have the option of selling the home. Of course I do, but I will not, because my son's father gave him half of the house and I will not loose it for him. As my father Saul would have said, "It is his Life Insurance Policy". I couldn't agree more. When my time on this earth are done, I will leave my son more than he could have imagined. It is my duty to the only male grandchild of my hero. He will carry on the name and the dignity of his Grandfather.
In my opinion there is no justice when a wife of almost twenty years now has a title of debtor attached to her claim. Just because a person passed away, did all my rights as his wife vanish before my very eyes. In my case Yes. It seems an executor can pretty much disclaim a debt at their discretion with the help of an attorney. His daughter had no interest in paying off his debt and I had no interest in paying an attorney for the privilege of lessening the remainder of what was left after the government gets their part because my X simply did not bother to put everything in Trust. The executor has spent more money than I did securaing this final divorce, isn't that incredible. And she really didn't want to honor the agreement I had with her dad, that he would cover the cost of the divorce, after all it was his and his girlfriends idea to file for it in the first place. It was the least he could do. So that's that.
The Estate had no difficulty establishing that I was not entitled to any of Bob's inheritance, why am I entitled to carry the burden of the debt?
Once could argue that I have the option of selling the home. Of course I do, but I will not, because my son's father gave him half of the house and I will not loose it for him. As my father Saul would have said, "It is his Life Insurance Policy". I couldn't agree more. When my time on this earth are done, I will leave my son more than he could have imagined. It is my duty to the only male grandchild of my hero. He will carry on the name and the dignity of his Grandfather.
In my opinion there is no justice when a wife of almost twenty years now has a title of debtor attached to her claim. Just because a person passed away, did all my rights as his wife vanish before my very eyes. In my case Yes. It seems an executor can pretty much disclaim a debt at their discretion with the help of an attorney. His daughter had no interest in paying off his debt and I had no interest in paying an attorney for the privilege of lessening the remainder of what was left after the government gets their part because my X simply did not bother to put everything in Trust. The executor has spent more money than I did securaing this final divorce, isn't that incredible. And she really didn't want to honor the agreement I had with her dad, that he would cover the cost of the divorce, after all it was his and his girlfriends idea to file for it in the first place. It was the least he could do. So that's that.
I didn't marry him for money and I guess I don't see the need to squander money to do the right thing.
I will find a way to keep the house for our son and I still feel grateful for my life.
Money doesn't always make a person happy and it remains to be seen how much of what is being given to his daughter will grow into a future for her as she dreamed. Her lifestyle is too expensive. A Beverly Hills girl trying to live the life of her Mom. Expensive vacations she has been to Europe three times already since her father passed away and may even be there as I write this because it is her three year wedding anniversary. She loves expensive dinners, shoes,clothes etc. I used to get annoyed with her because everything she ever bought had to have a designer label attached to it. The only thing that may save her is her wonderful husband who happens to be from the Midwest. Time will tell, the poor guy is working his butt off to keep up with the Jones's over there.
Unfortunately for her, if she ever does have any children of her own, I will not be there to help her with any of the stuff that I would have. Let her other family do that, but that's also questionable, because even she would say that her father and I got her everything she really wanted, her Mom got her the necessities. PJ's, underwear and things.
Now that I have gotten that off my chest, perhaps I can get back to my story.
September 23, 2007
Off To New York
After Graduation Bob's daughter got a job as a paralegal at a very large law firm in New York.
Well, it may have been a big law firm but the salary was not big.
Once again it was time for Daddy to dig into his wallet and cover "Half".
Since it seemed like the worst part of the past year was coming to an end because of the car incident and graduation. We had high hopes that Bob and Maria's relationship would start to get better after all at least they were speaking.
What were they speaking about? First they were speaking about the cost of her moving to New York, she told her dad that her Mom would meet whatever he gave her, I can honestly say I never believed that and neither did he.
He was giving her $3,000 a month and she was earning a salary. Plus she was not living alone, she was sharing an apartment with her best friend from high school. I doubt that she was getting $6,000 a month plus a salary. She may have gotten the credit card back also, I really can't remember if she did or not.
She also needed furniture of course and I do think her Mom helped her with that.
That was always the conversations, What did Marisa need this time.
It really bothered him. She tried to make it sound like she was calling to say hi, but each phone call always ended with her wanting something from him as he would say.
"I'm just a human credit card to her."
After she hung up he would sit on the sofa in our room and smoke and think. You could actually watch him replay the conversations in his head. His lips would move and he would be deep into it. If you said anything to him it was like he couldn't even hear you that's how lost in his thoughts he was.
He was really wounded on all levels.
Our family, that is the three of us, were still struggling to regain the trust that had been lost with Bob's journey back to drinking. His moods were all over the place for over a year. I later found out that it took him over an entire year for the Valium to actually leave his body.
It has what's known as an after life and it lodges into your bone tissue. Bob was on edge, always hot, like in a drug withdrawal, which he was, and just plain tense most of the time.
As hard as it was we were trying to get back to our normal family routines.
We were pretty busy with our lives and it seemed easy to not dwell on Marisa being gone because the truth be told she hadn't wanted to participate in our lives for so many years that it wasn't an issue. She had become more like a guest, that's how seldom we saw her.
I can't remember what time of year it was but one night Marisa picked up Matt and he spent the night at her house. It was so odd. I guess Marisa wanted to hang out with him but she didn't want to stay here. I'm not sure if it was because Matt wasn't home or the fact that Bob was hurt that Marisa didn't want to stay here he was just up smoking all night.
He had developed a pretty severe insomnia problem and I just used to got to sleep and not really hear him watching TV or getting up walking around or whatever.
But this night all of a sudden the house alarm was shrieking in my ears.
Bob had set the bed on fire.
Imagine how terrified I was to wake up to smoke the alarm blaring and Bob was just too shocked to really function.
We had a fire extinguisher right by the fireplace in our room and he couldn't get it to work.
The flames were on the carpet and jumped to the frame of the bed. I hopped out of bed and threw a bottle of water on it. It woke him up from his inability to think of what to do. I just kept refilling a glass of water and so did he and we didn't have to get the fire department, thank God.
It should have been a real wake up call for him, but what it turned out to be was the beginning of Bob burning holes in every set of sheets, the sofa, leather chairs everything he sat on.
He would fall asleep and burn his fingers. It was so scary.
He was a man who was just broken really. Trying to put up a brave front for everyone including himself. I look back and the loss of his sobriety took away more from him than those years. It seemed to rob him of any sense of direction or self esteem.
His temper grew shorter and shorter. He was so conflicted and probably always wanting to pick up a drink. By this time he had logged in twelve months without a drink but the doctors were still giving him medication for his back and knees. The only thing I Think he wasn't taking was Valium.
I must say having physical problems and trying to be clean and sober didn't really seem to work. If he was in pain and didn't have anything to take it away, he was always on a dry drunk. If he had the medication and wasn't in so much pain he was closer to drinking because he wasn't drug free. It was a real roller coaster ride for all of us emotionally.
The year that Marisa went to New York she started seeing a therapist. How New York of her, it seemed that everyone in New York had one and we agreed it was a good idea too. After all that she had been through and put her dad through.
So on Matt's spring break we headed off to New York so that Bob could have a session together with Marisa and her doctor.
Talk about being apprehensive, Bob put on a good show for her but with Matt and I it was a totally different story.
From the moment we arrived at our Hotel everything started going wrong. We always got two rooms because Matt couldn't be around all the smoke with his asthma and of course we couldn't expect Bob to not chain smoke, it pretty much was his only vice these days and he really needed to smoke that weekend.
When we checked in they told us that they did not have the adjoining rooms that we requested. Bob made such a big scene in the lobby that they ended up giving up a one bedroom suite with the most amazing view of the Chrysler building
Of course Bob had to sleep in the living room on a bed they brought up for him so that he could smoke near the window.
The three of us had a nice first night together alone without Marisa and she joined us the next day. She brought over a birthday cake she made for Matt which was so sweet and we all seemed really happy to be together.
The next day several friends of Matt's and their families joined us at the best ice=cream parlour in the world "Serendipity". After that the three of us went to the Sony store and we just window shopped most of the day and of course did manage to get Matt some very cool Birthday gifts.
The day was getting closer for Bob and his daughter to see her doctor. I can't really remember what came first the session or the new Rolex watch he bought her. That was his way. He wanted to get her something special for her graduation, but she had wanted furniture instead, so he got her the watch in New York so she could pick it out. She had really become hard to surprise with presents because unless she liked it she would take it back or give it back.
The only thing that I will never forget is what happened when Bob got back to the hotel after their appointment.
He told me that even her doctor asked her when she was going to forgive him. After all, he did not divorce her, he divorced her Mother. Her answer was always the same, that's not fair.
She had no intention of ever forgiving him for anything. Even things he didn't do to her.
He explained to me that there are some cases where a person can't seem to bear to look at the two parents equally. One is always right and one is always wrong. It was tragic, but it was right on the money. Everything he did seemed to bother her. Whether she was aware of it or not. She treated him like she was the parent. Always criticizing him for something. The way he held his fork, the way he chewed his dinner, they way that he loved to spot famous people etc. It just went on and on.
He was so flawed in her mind. I wonder how she got that judgemental? Especially because everyone always praised her. We had nothing but kind things to say to her about her always. But she couldn't seem to return the sentiment.
One of the things I struggle with always is how I could have been stronger and maybe a better "parent" to her. I felt constrained to me role and I didn't cross that line. Imagine twenty years of just "Watching" a child change right before your eyes and not really be able to do anything about it.
Now it's way too late.
The first time I had had enough of just letting her get away with really bad behaviour was over the phone.
She called us up and wanted to know if we would cover the cost of a gym in New York she wanted to join. As usual the answer was of course Marisa, your dad will pay for it. First of all, he wanted her to go to the gym of her choice. She had always struggled with her weight and the fact that she was working out was great.
Well I got the shock of my life when I spoke to her next. She called me back and said and I quote. "I talked to my Mom, and she said it's ridiculous". I told her that she had called us and asked for the money and she said. "Well, it was a test and he failed"
I went crazy inside and for the first time in twenty years I yelled and swore at her.
I told her "If you don't love him, then leave him the fuck alone." I think I hung up on her. It was very traumatic for me I don't really know how she took it because she had become so cold and calculating towards him. But she couldn't fool me. I knew she hated him from the moment she wanted to leave him in Paris. I could only pretend to let it go for so long. She was out of line and there wasn't anyone who was doing anything about it.
I had had it. I was sick and tired of having his spoiled ungrateful daughter ruining our lives. Everytime she pulled something like this on him it came back to haunt me and Matt. It would put him into such a frame of mind that all he would want to do now was drink.
I would never look at her the same way ever again. I didn't fight with her, but I knew who she was and that is not a good place to be in when you are trying to keep peace in a family already in trouble.
I told her father. I would no longer cover up for her and be a part of her duplicity. I would no longer be a part of the problem. There were bigger issues that I was dealing with. I had chosen my alligeince and it was to him not her. She just wanted his money, I wanted him to get well and live.
Well, it may have been a big law firm but the salary was not big.
Once again it was time for Daddy to dig into his wallet and cover "Half".
Since it seemed like the worst part of the past year was coming to an end because of the car incident and graduation. We had high hopes that Bob and Maria's relationship would start to get better after all at least they were speaking.
What were they speaking about? First they were speaking about the cost of her moving to New York, she told her dad that her Mom would meet whatever he gave her, I can honestly say I never believed that and neither did he.
He was giving her $3,000 a month and she was earning a salary. Plus she was not living alone, she was sharing an apartment with her best friend from high school. I doubt that she was getting $6,000 a month plus a salary. She may have gotten the credit card back also, I really can't remember if she did or not.
She also needed furniture of course and I do think her Mom helped her with that.
That was always the conversations, What did Marisa need this time.
It really bothered him. She tried to make it sound like she was calling to say hi, but each phone call always ended with her wanting something from him as he would say.
"I'm just a human credit card to her."
After she hung up he would sit on the sofa in our room and smoke and think. You could actually watch him replay the conversations in his head. His lips would move and he would be deep into it. If you said anything to him it was like he couldn't even hear you that's how lost in his thoughts he was.
He was really wounded on all levels.
Our family, that is the three of us, were still struggling to regain the trust that had been lost with Bob's journey back to drinking. His moods were all over the place for over a year. I later found out that it took him over an entire year for the Valium to actually leave his body.
It has what's known as an after life and it lodges into your bone tissue. Bob was on edge, always hot, like in a drug withdrawal, which he was, and just plain tense most of the time.
As hard as it was we were trying to get back to our normal family routines.
We were pretty busy with our lives and it seemed easy to not dwell on Marisa being gone because the truth be told she hadn't wanted to participate in our lives for so many years that it wasn't an issue. She had become more like a guest, that's how seldom we saw her.
I can't remember what time of year it was but one night Marisa picked up Matt and he spent the night at her house. It was so odd. I guess Marisa wanted to hang out with him but she didn't want to stay here. I'm not sure if it was because Matt wasn't home or the fact that Bob was hurt that Marisa didn't want to stay here he was just up smoking all night.
He had developed a pretty severe insomnia problem and I just used to got to sleep and not really hear him watching TV or getting up walking around or whatever.
But this night all of a sudden the house alarm was shrieking in my ears.
Bob had set the bed on fire.
Imagine how terrified I was to wake up to smoke the alarm blaring and Bob was just too shocked to really function.
We had a fire extinguisher right by the fireplace in our room and he couldn't get it to work.
The flames were on the carpet and jumped to the frame of the bed. I hopped out of bed and threw a bottle of water on it. It woke him up from his inability to think of what to do. I just kept refilling a glass of water and so did he and we didn't have to get the fire department, thank God.
It should have been a real wake up call for him, but what it turned out to be was the beginning of Bob burning holes in every set of sheets, the sofa, leather chairs everything he sat on.
He would fall asleep and burn his fingers. It was so scary.
He was a man who was just broken really. Trying to put up a brave front for everyone including himself. I look back and the loss of his sobriety took away more from him than those years. It seemed to rob him of any sense of direction or self esteem.
His temper grew shorter and shorter. He was so conflicted and probably always wanting to pick up a drink. By this time he had logged in twelve months without a drink but the doctors were still giving him medication for his back and knees. The only thing I Think he wasn't taking was Valium.
I must say having physical problems and trying to be clean and sober didn't really seem to work. If he was in pain and didn't have anything to take it away, he was always on a dry drunk. If he had the medication and wasn't in so much pain he was closer to drinking because he wasn't drug free. It was a real roller coaster ride for all of us emotionally.
The year that Marisa went to New York she started seeing a therapist. How New York of her, it seemed that everyone in New York had one and we agreed it was a good idea too. After all that she had been through and put her dad through.
So on Matt's spring break we headed off to New York so that Bob could have a session together with Marisa and her doctor.
Talk about being apprehensive, Bob put on a good show for her but with Matt and I it was a totally different story.
From the moment we arrived at our Hotel everything started going wrong. We always got two rooms because Matt couldn't be around all the smoke with his asthma and of course we couldn't expect Bob to not chain smoke, it pretty much was his only vice these days and he really needed to smoke that weekend.
When we checked in they told us that they did not have the adjoining rooms that we requested. Bob made such a big scene in the lobby that they ended up giving up a one bedroom suite with the most amazing view of the Chrysler building
Of course Bob had to sleep in the living room on a bed they brought up for him so that he could smoke near the window.
The three of us had a nice first night together alone without Marisa and she joined us the next day. She brought over a birthday cake she made for Matt which was so sweet and we all seemed really happy to be together.
The next day several friends of Matt's and their families joined us at the best ice=cream parlour in the world "Serendipity". After that the three of us went to the Sony store and we just window shopped most of the day and of course did manage to get Matt some very cool Birthday gifts.
The day was getting closer for Bob and his daughter to see her doctor. I can't really remember what came first the session or the new Rolex watch he bought her. That was his way. He wanted to get her something special for her graduation, but she had wanted furniture instead, so he got her the watch in New York so she could pick it out. She had really become hard to surprise with presents because unless she liked it she would take it back or give it back.
The only thing that I will never forget is what happened when Bob got back to the hotel after their appointment.
He told me that even her doctor asked her when she was going to forgive him. After all, he did not divorce her, he divorced her Mother. Her answer was always the same, that's not fair.
She had no intention of ever forgiving him for anything. Even things he didn't do to her.
He explained to me that there are some cases where a person can't seem to bear to look at the two parents equally. One is always right and one is always wrong. It was tragic, but it was right on the money. Everything he did seemed to bother her. Whether she was aware of it or not. She treated him like she was the parent. Always criticizing him for something. The way he held his fork, the way he chewed his dinner, they way that he loved to spot famous people etc. It just went on and on.
He was so flawed in her mind. I wonder how she got that judgemental? Especially because everyone always praised her. We had nothing but kind things to say to her about her always. But she couldn't seem to return the sentiment.
One of the things I struggle with always is how I could have been stronger and maybe a better "parent" to her. I felt constrained to me role and I didn't cross that line. Imagine twenty years of just "Watching" a child change right before your eyes and not really be able to do anything about it.
Now it's way too late.
The first time I had had enough of just letting her get away with really bad behaviour was over the phone.
She called us up and wanted to know if we would cover the cost of a gym in New York she wanted to join. As usual the answer was of course Marisa, your dad will pay for it. First of all, he wanted her to go to the gym of her choice. She had always struggled with her weight and the fact that she was working out was great.
Well I got the shock of my life when I spoke to her next. She called me back and said and I quote. "I talked to my Mom, and she said it's ridiculous". I told her that she had called us and asked for the money and she said. "Well, it was a test and he failed"
I went crazy inside and for the first time in twenty years I yelled and swore at her.
I told her "If you don't love him, then leave him the fuck alone." I think I hung up on her. It was very traumatic for me I don't really know how she took it because she had become so cold and calculating towards him. But she couldn't fool me. I knew she hated him from the moment she wanted to leave him in Paris. I could only pretend to let it go for so long. She was out of line and there wasn't anyone who was doing anything about it.
I had had it. I was sick and tired of having his spoiled ungrateful daughter ruining our lives. Everytime she pulled something like this on him it came back to haunt me and Matt. It would put him into such a frame of mind that all he would want to do now was drink.
I would never look at her the same way ever again. I didn't fight with her, but I knew who she was and that is not a good place to be in when you are trying to keep peace in a family already in trouble.
I told her father. I would no longer cover up for her and be a part of her duplicity. I would no longer be a part of the problem. There were bigger issues that I was dealing with. I had chosen my alligeince and it was to him not her. She just wanted his money, I wanted him to get well and live.
September 07, 2007
Graduation from Stanford
Well, his daughter's graduation from Stanford was monumental for so many reasons.
First of all she gave us all hell when she got in and now she was thrilled to be graduating from such an amazing University.
The weekend started out great. The entire family went to San Francisco to celebrate her achievement.
There was so much tension in the air that weekend and I'm sure no one will ever forget how uncomfortable it got.
We met his daughter in Palo Alto for brunch because she was having dinner with her other family members. Bob always felt slighted but after a year of her not speaking with him, he was having a bit of trouble keeping his anger under control.
This time he lashed out at my mother in law at brunch.
She just happened to be the only one who ordered anything alcoholic to drink and that set Bob off more than she could have ever imagined.
He simply could not tolerate people drinking in front of him early in the day for some reason. He used it against her.
We were discussing how difficult it was to get into Stanford and she mentioned that her nephew did not get accepted, even with my Father in Law's generous donations. She went on to say that Saul should never contribute to Stanford again, because she thought it was so unfair.
Well, Bob just unloaded on her. He started telling her to stay out of it because we still had Matt to think about, at that time we all thought that he wanted to go there like the rest of the family.
I don't know how she didn't burst into tears right at the table. I was so shocked because even though I was used to him going off at me about anything, he had never raised his voice to her ever.
Once again, his father took control of the situation and calmed him down, at least on the outside. He was still fuming on the inside. It was the day before his daughters' graduation and I'm sure he just wanted to unload on everyone in the family who condoned his daughter not speaking to him for that year.
He had to come face to face with her Mom, and her other family members.
Actually, looking back I don't know how he kept it as together as he did. He was a great actor. He had a lot of anger and resentment just locked inside of him and it was being squeezed out a little at a time. Oozing out of his pours. So that trip my mother in law got to experience first hand what I had sort of become amune to.
I guess I just became tough. It rolled off my shoulders most of the time unless the insults just got too ugly.
She was lucky that he didn't go on about her drinking in the morning to her face like he just kept going on to me about.
Actually it was such a big deal in his head that when we returned home, I had to explain to his brother why he felt that way about her drinking.
He resented the fact that she was his father's designated driver, who drinks in the morning and on and on.
Well I must say, he certainly was an expert of drinking. After 30 rehabs he sure had enough of an education to spot a normal drinking pattern from one that was excessive and he didn't really buy the old wine is good for the heart thing.
He resented that his father was now opening a bottle of wine for dinner every night because he never did that when his Mom was alive.
I could not argue with him on that point. I never met his Mom, but from all the stories I have listened to over the years I don't think there ever could have been anyone to fill those shoes in his eyes. Especially his dad's second wife.
In her defense, she tried to be kind to all of us, but we were always aware that he made her uncomfortable when he was around and we were never really invited to just drop in for dinner. It had to be an occasion for that to happen.
He also resented his old room being used as a guest room for her family and friends.
He couldn't seem to let it go.
All I know is that there was no reasoning with him about any of this. They were his feelings and I couldn't change them. At best I could try and shorten the monologues that I was forced to listen to and try my best not to make him more angry with my opinions.
Life could be so happy and carefree, until he started thinking about his family. Then Matt and I would pay the price.
He was starting to just sit on the sofa in our room smoking and running all these old tapes in his head letting his resentments grow.
Finally he just stopped talking about it as much.
He would just sit, smoke and talk to himself quietly. Sometimes I would walk into the room and watch him have a conversation with himself. He wasn't speaking out loud, but his lips were moving. It was very odd.
Looking back, this was a man in trouble and I sure didn't know how to help him. What can you do for a man who has been to all the best hospitals, had years of meetings, rejected all the physiologists and did not really respect anyone in the program. All I could do at times was tolerate him and other times just leave the house for a while when his temper got too out of control.
I really did feel sorry for him at times and at other times I was just angry with him. He was brilliant, why couldn't he just let go of wanting to drink? Even though he wasn't drinking, he was still consumed with thinking of alcohol.
Judging everyone who did drink. I was so grateful that I was never a drinker or I can only imagine what hell my days would have been like.
We started making plans to move up to Northern California to send Matt to a private school up there. It was almost the breath of fresh air everyone needed.
We started spending time in the Bay Area with Bob's best friend Bill. They were like brothers. They had been high school and college roommates and buddies. They had been through a lot together.
I really loved Bill and his family. I always felt safe around them because Bob was on his best behaviour around them.
The only thing was that Bob had not told Bill that he had had a major slip a couple of years before that.
He was really ashamed of it and he did not want the fact that he didn't have that continuous long term sobriety to affect our sons chances of getting in to his old school. At the time, I really didn't think there was any reason to tell his friend.
After all, it was not really my place to do so. If he wanted Bill to know he would have to be the one to confide in him.
We wanted Matt to like the Bay Area so much. We took him to San Francisco quite a bit and he started loving "Japan Town" and the city. He loved the tall buildings and the hip urban environment. Not to mention that he started collecting Japanese animation and videos and every time we went to the city he came home with a stash of new movies.
Finally one day we got the good news letter. Matt did indeed get accepted into Menlo. I was so thrilled for all of us. I was counting on this being a solid new beginning in our lives and with the support of his best friend and his family I thought the move would be flawless.
My nephew came to visit and we took him with us to San Francisco to look for a house to lease for the four years we had to be up there. All in all it was an amazing weekend for all.
Because I had lived there for so many years I knew the city like the back of my hand.
We never got lost and I drove all over the place.
It really was a new world.
We just happened to be in town for Gay Pride Week and Matt and Paul got a new kind of education. Paul came from Wisconsin and we were from Malibu, so it was quite a different celebration for the both of them.
I just remember having so many laughs that entire weekend. My hopes for the future were at an all time high. I had never embraced a new beginning quite as enthusiastically as I did that move.
I was really tired of being caged in up here in Malibu. Malibu had lost it's charm for me the day Bob picked up his first drink. I was constantly complaining about it. I felt I was living in a retirement community and didn't bother to hide my opinion about it. I used to say that Malibu was a place people came to to die. It seemed that people here stopped living in a way. The friends I had never went into LA to see the theatre, Opera or any of the things I wanted to do. It had also happened to Bob. All he wanted to do was go to the movies and then he would just fall asleep in them. I was bored to tears. The only thing I loved about the place was our house. The town's charm had long ago lost it magic for me.
First of all she gave us all hell when she got in and now she was thrilled to be graduating from such an amazing University.
The weekend started out great. The entire family went to San Francisco to celebrate her achievement.
There was so much tension in the air that weekend and I'm sure no one will ever forget how uncomfortable it got.
We met his daughter in Palo Alto for brunch because she was having dinner with her other family members. Bob always felt slighted but after a year of her not speaking with him, he was having a bit of trouble keeping his anger under control.
This time he lashed out at my mother in law at brunch.
She just happened to be the only one who ordered anything alcoholic to drink and that set Bob off more than she could have ever imagined.
He simply could not tolerate people drinking in front of him early in the day for some reason. He used it against her.
We were discussing how difficult it was to get into Stanford and she mentioned that her nephew did not get accepted, even with my Father in Law's generous donations. She went on to say that Saul should never contribute to Stanford again, because she thought it was so unfair.
Well, Bob just unloaded on her. He started telling her to stay out of it because we still had Matt to think about, at that time we all thought that he wanted to go there like the rest of the family.
I don't know how she didn't burst into tears right at the table. I was so shocked because even though I was used to him going off at me about anything, he had never raised his voice to her ever.
Once again, his father took control of the situation and calmed him down, at least on the outside. He was still fuming on the inside. It was the day before his daughters' graduation and I'm sure he just wanted to unload on everyone in the family who condoned his daughter not speaking to him for that year.
He had to come face to face with her Mom, and her other family members.
Actually, looking back I don't know how he kept it as together as he did. He was a great actor. He had a lot of anger and resentment just locked inside of him and it was being squeezed out a little at a time. Oozing out of his pours. So that trip my mother in law got to experience first hand what I had sort of become amune to.
I guess I just became tough. It rolled off my shoulders most of the time unless the insults just got too ugly.
She was lucky that he didn't go on about her drinking in the morning to her face like he just kept going on to me about.
Actually it was such a big deal in his head that when we returned home, I had to explain to his brother why he felt that way about her drinking.
He resented the fact that she was his father's designated driver, who drinks in the morning and on and on.
Well I must say, he certainly was an expert of drinking. After 30 rehabs he sure had enough of an education to spot a normal drinking pattern from one that was excessive and he didn't really buy the old wine is good for the heart thing.
He resented that his father was now opening a bottle of wine for dinner every night because he never did that when his Mom was alive.
I could not argue with him on that point. I never met his Mom, but from all the stories I have listened to over the years I don't think there ever could have been anyone to fill those shoes in his eyes. Especially his dad's second wife.
In her defense, she tried to be kind to all of us, but we were always aware that he made her uncomfortable when he was around and we were never really invited to just drop in for dinner. It had to be an occasion for that to happen.
He also resented his old room being used as a guest room for her family and friends.
He couldn't seem to let it go.
All I know is that there was no reasoning with him about any of this. They were his feelings and I couldn't change them. At best I could try and shorten the monologues that I was forced to listen to and try my best not to make him more angry with my opinions.
Life could be so happy and carefree, until he started thinking about his family. Then Matt and I would pay the price.
He was starting to just sit on the sofa in our room smoking and running all these old tapes in his head letting his resentments grow.
Finally he just stopped talking about it as much.
He would just sit, smoke and talk to himself quietly. Sometimes I would walk into the room and watch him have a conversation with himself. He wasn't speaking out loud, but his lips were moving. It was very odd.
Looking back, this was a man in trouble and I sure didn't know how to help him. What can you do for a man who has been to all the best hospitals, had years of meetings, rejected all the physiologists and did not really respect anyone in the program. All I could do at times was tolerate him and other times just leave the house for a while when his temper got too out of control.
I really did feel sorry for him at times and at other times I was just angry with him. He was brilliant, why couldn't he just let go of wanting to drink? Even though he wasn't drinking, he was still consumed with thinking of alcohol.
Judging everyone who did drink. I was so grateful that I was never a drinker or I can only imagine what hell my days would have been like.
We started making plans to move up to Northern California to send Matt to a private school up there. It was almost the breath of fresh air everyone needed.
We started spending time in the Bay Area with Bob's best friend Bill. They were like brothers. They had been high school and college roommates and buddies. They had been through a lot together.
I really loved Bill and his family. I always felt safe around them because Bob was on his best behaviour around them.
The only thing was that Bob had not told Bill that he had had a major slip a couple of years before that.
He was really ashamed of it and he did not want the fact that he didn't have that continuous long term sobriety to affect our sons chances of getting in to his old school. At the time, I really didn't think there was any reason to tell his friend.
After all, it was not really my place to do so. If he wanted Bill to know he would have to be the one to confide in him.
We wanted Matt to like the Bay Area so much. We took him to San Francisco quite a bit and he started loving "Japan Town" and the city. He loved the tall buildings and the hip urban environment. Not to mention that he started collecting Japanese animation and videos and every time we went to the city he came home with a stash of new movies.
Finally one day we got the good news letter. Matt did indeed get accepted into Menlo. I was so thrilled for all of us. I was counting on this being a solid new beginning in our lives and with the support of his best friend and his family I thought the move would be flawless.
My nephew came to visit and we took him with us to San Francisco to look for a house to lease for the four years we had to be up there. All in all it was an amazing weekend for all.
Because I had lived there for so many years I knew the city like the back of my hand.
We never got lost and I drove all over the place.
It really was a new world.
We just happened to be in town for Gay Pride Week and Matt and Paul got a new kind of education. Paul came from Wisconsin and we were from Malibu, so it was quite a different celebration for the both of them.
I just remember having so many laughs that entire weekend. My hopes for the future were at an all time high. I had never embraced a new beginning quite as enthusiastically as I did that move.
I was really tired of being caged in up here in Malibu. Malibu had lost it's charm for me the day Bob picked up his first drink. I was constantly complaining about it. I felt I was living in a retirement community and didn't bother to hide my opinion about it. I used to say that Malibu was a place people came to to die. It seemed that people here stopped living in a way. The friends I had never went into LA to see the theatre, Opera or any of the things I wanted to do. It had also happened to Bob. All he wanted to do was go to the movies and then he would just fall asleep in them. I was bored to tears. The only thing I loved about the place was our house. The town's charm had long ago lost it magic for me.
August 25, 2007
Therapy
One day shortly after returning from that trip, I got Marisa, Matt and myself into family therapy. I think many professionals would agree that was a very wise choice.
I called a local woman who specialized in addiction in the family, or so she said.
It was a MISTAKE. I'm not sure if it's because she was in Malibu, and believe me I have spoken to more than one professional in the field who have told me that many doctors would not consider setting up a practice here because of the calibre of help given by the local doctors, etc.
Well, I hadn't realized that at the time, I just wanted to heal the family the only way I knew how. I went alone and several times I took the two kids.
The advice that I was given was the beginning of the end of my happy marriage.
This woman who was my first therapist, was telling me what to do. Something I later learned is not done. I was so desperate to "fix" the situation at home that I listened to everything she told me to do. Including leaving Bob at home and going on our planned vacation to Hawaii without him.
At the time, she told me it was the only way to assert myself and it would be a lesson for him that he could no longer rage against me verbally, which was happening a lot since his relapse. Bottom line is all roads were leading to the end of the marriage.
Looking back it seemed ridiculous because neither one of us were planning on ending the marriage at that time. We loved each other, but couldn't tolerate the behaviour.
Quite a conundrum to put it mildly. It was almost like my therapist wanted to break up the marriage. She did nothing that I can recall to help me save it.
After a few short visits Matt refused to go back to see her and so did Marisa. We never did get any help as a family, or help as individuals for that matter. It just made things harder at home.
I just terminated the sessions and was left to try and pick up the pieces myself.
What does a family do when there are addiction problems? Everyone agrees that it is not easy to be married or in a relationship with a practicing addict, but here we were once more, Bob wasn't drinking, he was just so angry all the time.
It was the year that Bob and I started fighting more and more about his daughter, which had become a really hot topic of conversation from this point up until the end.
He would go on and on about her and how he felt used. He could say whatever and all I could do was just listen, because if I said one thing he didn't like, he would turn the fight on me. I wasn't used to fighting about his daughter, we always got along great. For all the years she didn't want to come to our house I could always manage something to say to put the fire out in his head. I could no longer do that.
The truth was starring him in the face.
She would not speak to him, the family condoned it, and he was still giving her money through his father. The resentments were mounting, and I can't say I didn't agree.
I must say, if my child did to me what she did to him I would have stopped paying her tuition and let her mother deal with it. But once again Bob was always filled with guilt. He didn't know how to stick up for what was right because of it.
She simply got her cake and she got to eat it too.
That year was the ultimate slap in his face, he was never comfortable with confronting Marisa or her mother, who actually was quite happy to encourage the bad behavior of Marisa, that was until just about one year into the silence that Marisa had a car fire after installing a new radio in her car.
Now she finally needed something from her father bad enough to finally give him a call. Bob was so happy to talk to her he welcomed the fact that she was only calling because she needed something from him.
Her car was totaled and he was the registered owner. The insurance money was going to be sent to him. I guess she didn't hate him enough not to need the money for a new car. Her mom would put in half for the new car and if he agreed to give her back the insurance money that would buy her a new Jeep. As usual he told her of course. What he told me was a totally different story.
Once again I got the brunt of his true feelings. He was pretty disgusted with her and her mom hitting him up for the money. After all, didn't Marisa tell us all that her Mom was going to take care of everything for her and she didn't need him any longer? And on and on and on. He was always treated that way. Once she even told us that we got her all the cool stuff and her Mom would buy her the basics, pajama's underwear stuff like that.
I have a feeling that year was hard for her without that credit card of his soon after that she got the use of it back. Some things never change.
She was speaking to him again and using his money again. Funny how that worked out.
A pattern that never ended.
I called a local woman who specialized in addiction in the family, or so she said.
It was a MISTAKE. I'm not sure if it's because she was in Malibu, and believe me I have spoken to more than one professional in the field who have told me that many doctors would not consider setting up a practice here because of the calibre of help given by the local doctors, etc.
Well, I hadn't realized that at the time, I just wanted to heal the family the only way I knew how. I went alone and several times I took the two kids.
The advice that I was given was the beginning of the end of my happy marriage.
This woman who was my first therapist, was telling me what to do. Something I later learned is not done. I was so desperate to "fix" the situation at home that I listened to everything she told me to do. Including leaving Bob at home and going on our planned vacation to Hawaii without him.
At the time, she told me it was the only way to assert myself and it would be a lesson for him that he could no longer rage against me verbally, which was happening a lot since his relapse. Bottom line is all roads were leading to the end of the marriage.
Looking back it seemed ridiculous because neither one of us were planning on ending the marriage at that time. We loved each other, but couldn't tolerate the behaviour.
Quite a conundrum to put it mildly. It was almost like my therapist wanted to break up the marriage. She did nothing that I can recall to help me save it.
After a few short visits Matt refused to go back to see her and so did Marisa. We never did get any help as a family, or help as individuals for that matter. It just made things harder at home.
I just terminated the sessions and was left to try and pick up the pieces myself.
What does a family do when there are addiction problems? Everyone agrees that it is not easy to be married or in a relationship with a practicing addict, but here we were once more, Bob wasn't drinking, he was just so angry all the time.
It was the year that Bob and I started fighting more and more about his daughter, which had become a really hot topic of conversation from this point up until the end.
He would go on and on about her and how he felt used. He could say whatever and all I could do was just listen, because if I said one thing he didn't like, he would turn the fight on me. I wasn't used to fighting about his daughter, we always got along great. For all the years she didn't want to come to our house I could always manage something to say to put the fire out in his head. I could no longer do that.
The truth was starring him in the face.
She would not speak to him, the family condoned it, and he was still giving her money through his father. The resentments were mounting, and I can't say I didn't agree.
I must say, if my child did to me what she did to him I would have stopped paying her tuition and let her mother deal with it. But once again Bob was always filled with guilt. He didn't know how to stick up for what was right because of it.
She simply got her cake and she got to eat it too.
That year was the ultimate slap in his face, he was never comfortable with confronting Marisa or her mother, who actually was quite happy to encourage the bad behavior of Marisa, that was until just about one year into the silence that Marisa had a car fire after installing a new radio in her car.
Now she finally needed something from her father bad enough to finally give him a call. Bob was so happy to talk to her he welcomed the fact that she was only calling because she needed something from him.
Her car was totaled and he was the registered owner. The insurance money was going to be sent to him. I guess she didn't hate him enough not to need the money for a new car. Her mom would put in half for the new car and if he agreed to give her back the insurance money that would buy her a new Jeep. As usual he told her of course. What he told me was a totally different story.
Once again I got the brunt of his true feelings. He was pretty disgusted with her and her mom hitting him up for the money. After all, didn't Marisa tell us all that her Mom was going to take care of everything for her and she didn't need him any longer? And on and on and on. He was always treated that way. Once she even told us that we got her all the cool stuff and her Mom would buy her the basics, pajama's underwear stuff like that.
I have a feeling that year was hard for her without that credit card of his soon after that she got the use of it back. Some things never change.
She was speaking to him again and using his money again. Funny how that worked out.
A pattern that never ended.
August 19, 2007
Birthday Lunch
To say that coming home was a very difficult time would be an understatement.
I was simply devestated by all that had gone on between Bob and Marisa and Bob and I.
I felt so sad that Marisa and Bob were totally estranged from one another. I decided that I did not want to celbrate my birthday that year. It didn't feel like anything that I wanted to do. It was a very sad time for us all. I guess I never really understood the resentment that Marisa had for her father. I really thought she loved him so much. I remembered her as a loving little girl who just adored her Daddy.
Of course time had gone by and things do change, but never did his love, adoration or support for her ever faulter, so I didn't see this coming.
Getting together with our family was always the best of times. This year would be more than difficult so I just told the family I wasn't going to celebrate and I didn't.
I did go to lunch with Marisa alone to celebrate my birthday. I really wanted to remain close to her inspite of everything that was going on. At this point I had no harsh feeling toward her I sympathized with her. Loosing the love of your parent is a very big deal in one's life and to actually bring this upon yourself is an entirely different matter. He still loved her and would have gotten over everything in a heartbeat, she would be the one who would be difficult to sway. I was hoping beyond hope that I could be the Peacemaker between them. I would learn that wasn't going to happen at least not at this lunch.
At that lunch we talked about everything that had happened in Paris of course, but the one thing that stands out in my mind just as clear as the day she uttered it were the following words.
In the middle of discussing everything Marisa uttered "I'm cold like Bonnie".
I managed to keep my mouth shut but inside I was shocked. I never forgot that because I went back home and told Bob.
I was literally crying because that was the most tragic statement I had ever heard come out of a brilliant young girl.
Here was a girl I admired more than anyone. I actually looked up to her. I admired how she worked hard at School got into Stanford, even if it wasn't her first choice, I was impressed. I had always been so proud of her and was willing to overlook the entire episode of wanting to leave her dad in Paris because emotions were running high and I thought we would all heal sooner than later.
But the sad reality was that she had no intention of ever speaking to him, at least not for a long time. I thought it would blow over, but I knew it wasn't going too.
Something always happened to me when anyone was upset with Bob, I always defended him because I believed in him so much.
I had no influence over his daughter. It was never more clear that from the point of her return home all her decisions were going to be talked over with her Mom and probably her other family members. There wasn't going to be forgivness going on.
Her Mom wasn't going to pay for everything as Marisa had imagined, but she did contact Bob's father for his half and now Marisa had no reason to talk to him at all.
Bob's dad would give her mom a check every month and Bob would reimburse him.
I guess it was always about the money.
Even though Marisa was over 18 and he legally didn't have to support her at all, especially if she didn't want to deal with him. He couldn't not support her as he had always done.
His father was trying to make things better by pretending that the money was coming from him, but it only made the distance between Bob and his daughter broader.
I went home and really felt very sorry for Bob, I started to cry as I told him about my conversation with Marisa at lunch. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that we all better get into therapy and fast. This was not good. Marisa was being incouraged to ingore her dad, but take the money.
I called the pyscologist.
I was simply devestated by all that had gone on between Bob and Marisa and Bob and I.
I felt so sad that Marisa and Bob were totally estranged from one another. I decided that I did not want to celbrate my birthday that year. It didn't feel like anything that I wanted to do. It was a very sad time for us all. I guess I never really understood the resentment that Marisa had for her father. I really thought she loved him so much. I remembered her as a loving little girl who just adored her Daddy.
Of course time had gone by and things do change, but never did his love, adoration or support for her ever faulter, so I didn't see this coming.
Getting together with our family was always the best of times. This year would be more than difficult so I just told the family I wasn't going to celebrate and I didn't.
I did go to lunch with Marisa alone to celebrate my birthday. I really wanted to remain close to her inspite of everything that was going on. At this point I had no harsh feeling toward her I sympathized with her. Loosing the love of your parent is a very big deal in one's life and to actually bring this upon yourself is an entirely different matter. He still loved her and would have gotten over everything in a heartbeat, she would be the one who would be difficult to sway. I was hoping beyond hope that I could be the Peacemaker between them. I would learn that wasn't going to happen at least not at this lunch.
At that lunch we talked about everything that had happened in Paris of course, but the one thing that stands out in my mind just as clear as the day she uttered it were the following words.
In the middle of discussing everything Marisa uttered "I'm cold like Bonnie".
I managed to keep my mouth shut but inside I was shocked. I never forgot that because I went back home and told Bob.
I was literally crying because that was the most tragic statement I had ever heard come out of a brilliant young girl.
Here was a girl I admired more than anyone. I actually looked up to her. I admired how she worked hard at School got into Stanford, even if it wasn't her first choice, I was impressed. I had always been so proud of her and was willing to overlook the entire episode of wanting to leave her dad in Paris because emotions were running high and I thought we would all heal sooner than later.
But the sad reality was that she had no intention of ever speaking to him, at least not for a long time. I thought it would blow over, but I knew it wasn't going too.
Something always happened to me when anyone was upset with Bob, I always defended him because I believed in him so much.
I had no influence over his daughter. It was never more clear that from the point of her return home all her decisions were going to be talked over with her Mom and probably her other family members. There wasn't going to be forgivness going on.
Her Mom wasn't going to pay for everything as Marisa had imagined, but she did contact Bob's father for his half and now Marisa had no reason to talk to him at all.
Bob's dad would give her mom a check every month and Bob would reimburse him.
I guess it was always about the money.
Even though Marisa was over 18 and he legally didn't have to support her at all, especially if she didn't want to deal with him. He couldn't not support her as he had always done.
His father was trying to make things better by pretending that the money was coming from him, but it only made the distance between Bob and his daughter broader.
I went home and really felt very sorry for Bob, I started to cry as I told him about my conversation with Marisa at lunch. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that we all better get into therapy and fast. This was not good. Marisa was being incouraged to ingore her dad, but take the money.
I called the pyscologist.
August 14, 2007
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.
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.
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.
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