It was time for parent-teacher conferences. The agreement was that my husband would be home to watch the children in time for my appointment with the teacher. He preferred not to attend these things anyway so I would represent the family.
I was getting ready to leave when there was a knock on the door. It was a salesman who just wanted a "minute of my time" to sell us some TV add on. I told him I really didn't have much time but Ok. I was getting anxious. My husband hadn't showed up yet and we were discouraged from bringing our children to the conferences. Finally, my husband arrived just as the salesman was leaving. Immediately he went into his anger and accused me of having an affair. He was intimidating and hostile and drunk. I simply had to leave. The kids pulled me aside and asked me not to leave them with him tonight. I agreed and told them to get their jackets and I would take them with me. On the way to the school we made a plan that they would play on the swings near the classroom and they were to stay together and not leave that area until I came to get them. They were also instructed that if they were in danger for any reason they should come to the classroom where I was. It should be only 15 minutes which an 8 and 10 year old should be able to do. When I came back after the conference they were doing exactly what I told them to do. I was proud of us for doing what we needed to do. We were a team. We left for home. By that time my husband was passed out drunk and asleep. I got the kids ready for bed. I was relieved that we didn't come home to an argument or assault. Since I had lived with drunkenness and the irresponsibility of my father when I was growing up, I thought my children would be able to cope as I had. The love of my mother got me through and my love would pull them through. I couldn't have been more wrong. My father, although an alcoholic, was not a narcissistic psychopath like my husband, and therein was the difference unrecognized.
After a 4 month hospital stay my dad had come home and transferred to a hospital nearer to me. I was the contact now for this stage of his treatment and I went every other day or so to check on him and relate his progress to my mother. It was so difficult because the drive was about 30 miles one way and it was usually after work. I would get dinner ready and then leave to take care of my dad. The kids were left with their father but I didn't see any signs of problems during that time. Common sense should have told me that was a fairy tale but I had so much on my plate that some things just weren't' in focus. Looking back, I am convinced that he used this time to disparage me to them. Why else would he be so easy to get along with about my leaving him with the children? He was always so opposed to taking care of them for any reason because he thought I was shirking my duties if I left them.
A call came in to my work. My father had had a seizure and was in intensive care. The staff told me to go and that they had me covered. I ran home and got the kids lined up with friends and left for the hospital. I was sure he was dying. I called my mom. She needed to be there, now! She drove over. He eventually recovered but I was feeling drained. A job, a family, my parents, an uncooperative husband and no way out was taking its toll. I told my husband that I was getting off this merry-go-round and he started acting defensively hostile. That confession was a big mistake.
I had a talk with my mother and I told her that we needed to make different arrangements for dad as they didn't seem to be paying good attention to him at this hospital. They seemed to keep him overly medicated. I felt like he had been warehoused there. She made the decision to take him to a convalescent center in their home town. This was a heart wrenching time. We continued to face adversity and unrest. Everything would be different now. No matter what we did we couldn't turn back the hands of time and erase the consequences of a lifetime of severe alcoholism; not only on the alcoholic but on all the lives he touched. There was a price to pay and we would all pay it in our own way. Even though we knew the odds were against us, hopes ran high for a cure and a return to sanity, or at least to a new normal. There was a lesson in this for me about the devastating effects of substance abuse on an enabler and co- dependents. The love lost on an addict is love lost: they simply cannot return it. You are left with a hole in your heart that you must fill on your own. I watched my mother suffer the truth of this. I wasn't far behind. It would take me most of my life to heed it.
With my plans for escape being derailed, I had to think fast. In order to go to counseling I used the excuse that my dad's illness was overwhelming for me and so my husband didn't suspect that it was actually my relationship with him that was the catalyst for therapy. I needed to regain some strength.
I was still working every other weekend at the clinic, fulfilling my duties at home and biding my time until I could make some headway out of the marriage. It felt like I was paddling a row boat that was tied up to a dock. I was working hard but not going anywhere. The strife was getting harder to bear. He was back to his old self with rage attacks and drunkenness and the old "you can't tell me what to do and who to hang out with" routines. I was so beyond that that I didn't pay much attention any more. As far as I was concerned, he could go anywhere he wanted to with whomever he wanted to and it would no longer ruffle my feathers. As a matter of fact, I welcomed the times he was at a distance.
I guess he didn't like that I wasn't bothered by his behaviors and that fueled his rage. He started pointing his finger into my chest and annihilating me with verbal threats. Before I knew it I was on the floor with him straddling me to hold me down. Then his hand encircled my neck and I knew I was going to die. I quietly made my peace with God and waited for my last breath. Then there was a voice in my head telling me to relax. "Just relax", I heard, over and over. My head was turned to the side but I was pinned down and couldn't move or fight. This was the end I was sure. With his thumb on my larynx and his fingers pressing on my neck he forcefully pushed down while I relaxed. All of a sudden I heard a SNAP and I thought maybe I would die soon or I would find out that he had he had broken my neck. No, HE was screaming in pain as he released his hold on me. He had broken his thumb. Since I hadn't resisted, the force of the floor against his force ended up causing him an injury. It was over. He ran into the other room and I stood up gasping to breathe again. Predictably, calm followed panic and life went on. That scene, however, still plays in my head today.
It is now December and time for the Clinic's office Christmas Party. My friend and I made plans to drive there together and so I picked her up that evening. On the way she gave me some highly sensitive information. She told me that my husband had tried to rape her and how absolutely terrifying it was. My hands gripped the steering and wheel and I wondered if I should pull over considering how shocked I was. I wasn't really shocked about the rape attempt considering all the times I had been warned about this stuff before but I was horrified that he had done that to my friend. I told her I was so sorry and I asked her when this had happened. When she told me the date I knew it was at the time we had found that fighting cock in our pasture (her husband had put it there). It was also the time that my husband was hell bent on getting a rototiller to make a garden. He spent so much time working on it that I had even asked myself what he had done now to engage in such a penance. I always knew when something was up, I just didn't know what the offence was until later. I will always thank her for the courage to tell me. We went on to the Christmas party together and found a way to have fun. All bets were off now: Strangulation and rape again and agian….no thanks. I just had to figure out a way to get out safely with my life and for the kid's lives. That would take more time than I had bargained for because life creates obstacles.
The following month my Mom would call me. She had been informed by the hospital that my dad had had a stroke. She would be leaving to be by his side while he recovered. He had been working out of town to repair their rental house and had taken ill with pneumonia which was followed by a stroke. I needed to be there for her during this time especially since he had gone into delirium tremens because of his 40 year addiction to alcohol. She would have to inform the Dr.'s of his alcoholism so they could treat him properly. I had to focus on her crisis right now. This would last 3 plus years. It was a life changing experience for both of us to go through. I would end up asking myself if I would do what she was doing for my dad if the same or similar fate should befall my husband. The answer was: No. I was delayed but I would leave and get a divorce as soon as I could.
Later this year I would start seeing a counselor in order to work out the problems that our marriage had caused for me. I did not want to get back together but I needed support in getting out. I wanted to be sure that I wasn't making problems where there weren't any. If you can believe that! I would also make an appointment with an attorney for a consultation. I just wanted to know the rules in our state. Could I get a divorce without saying why I wanted it? I did this because I knew that if I accused him of his wrong doings he would come after me and possibly physically hurt me and our children. I knew full well that this was a dangerous move and I wanted to do all I could to keep us safe.
I was experiencing trepidation about what was on the horizon but that was not enough to stop me from going through with it. I feared the devil I knew and dreaded meeting the one I didn't know.
