Really Randy

I wish I could run and hide, but I can’t because he needs me.

Just wish I could show his face…

6:30am - Wake up.  Detangle my son who as somehow attached himself to me in the night.  Wife didn’t come in during the night.

6:45am - Lay in bed and wonder if this morning is when I find my wife dead on the couch of an overdose.  Don’t want to get up.

6:55am - Get out of bed and go into the living room.  Check that wife is still breathing… holding my own breath wondering what I would actually do if she wasn’t.  She’s alive and passed out.  Looks like she’s been that way for a while.

7:00am - Dig through dirty clothes that wife told me last week she was going to wash for something that is relatively clean and doesn’t stink to wear to work.  Try to remember to do laundry when I get home.

7:10am - Leave house, forgetting to check if wife has a full pack of cigarettes.  Was when I went to bed.

7:30am - Get to work and start banging away at my software.

11:00am - Check e-mail for the hundredth time to make sure she hasn’t e-mailed me.

11:30am - Send an e-mail since I haven’t heard from her yet with some random bit of bullshit that probably could have waited.

12:15pm - Get an e-mail asked if we have any more cigarettes around the house.  I say ‘no’ and apologize for not being more responsive.

12:20pm - Unintelligible response.

12:21pm - ‘Huh’ response back to her.

12:25pm - Guilt trip-y e-mail about how she’s in pain and didn’t sleep much last night.

12:55pm - Had a cigarette or two and then respond with a ‘Sorry’ e-mail.

2:00pm - A reminder e-mail from wife of things we need from the store since she doesn’t have any money or car and how much pain she’s in.

2:10pm - Say ‘ok’ & close e-mail.

4:00pm - Open e-mail to find six messages from her… one asking if I could grab her a Red Bull or booze on the way home and five asking if I got the others.

4:01pm - Respond that I will and yes I did.

5:00pm - Leave work and go to the store to pick up stuff including cigarettes.

5:30pm - Get home. And bring in store stuff.

5:32pm -Put stuff down as my son runs to me.  He’s got a dirty diaper.

5:35pm - Greet wife who is in the exact same fucking position as when I left.  Grab diaper and son and go change him.  Wife asks for a cigarette.  Toss her the pack.

5:37pm - Get kicked by son whose diaper rash is coming back.  Scrub off the crusted shit on his butt and apologize for leaving him alone.

5:40pm - Go back to unload store stuff.  Wife tells me about how he’s had two messy diapers today and that she just changed him.  Nod head and unload.

5:45pm - Make a snack since I didn’t eat lunch.  Share half of it with wife who tells me she’s been in too much pain to eat.  Have to ask her to repeat herself a couple of times since she’s slurring her words.  Lights another cigarette.

5:50pm - Wife goes to the bathroom and closes door.  Creep to the hallway to listen.  Cabinet doors opening, sniffing sounds… I go back to the couch and cry.  Stop by the time she comes out.

6:00pm - Finish my snack and wife is nodding on the couch.  Notice the white powder in her nose - an indication of her crushing her pain meds and snorting them.  Don’t say anything anymore because I just don’t care.  Grab son and go into bedroom to laydown.

6:35pm - Open my ‘to-do’ list on my phone and see which task needs to be done tonight.  Dishes or laundry?  Decide to do laundry and move dishes to the next night where I will chose between dishes and trash.

6:45pm - Start laundry.  Wife is still on couch with lit cigarette burning another hole in the blanket.  Tell her to be careful and she responds with something incoherent but intended to be a snipe at me.  

6:55pm - Wash a couple of plates and start dinner for all of us.

7:00pm - Hope that something on TV that I want to watch is on.  I have about two weeks worth of stuff on the DVR, but wife hates everything I want to watch.  So we watch Jersey Shore - she sleeps through most of it.

7:30pm - Dinner is served.  Wife bitches that she can’t eat much because she’s been throwing up today.  Me and son eat.  Sometimes we go upstairs and watch his TV (aka my computer) but tonight we hang out in the bedroom.

8:30pm - Something I want to watch on TV.  Wife reminds me that she hates where we live and that she feels alone - while nodding off a couple of times mid-sentence.  Just remind her that we’re only here for a short time.  

9:00pm - Run bath for the kiddo.  Strip him down and put him in there.  Rotate laundry.  Should be dry by morning.

9:10pm - Lay in bed for a few minutes alone.  Think about jerking off but decide against it.  Just fantasize about Twitter crushes, old lovers and impossible scenarios.

9:20pm - Wash kiddo down and wash his hair.  Hair probably hasn’t been brushed since the last time I did it.

9:30pm - Get something to drink.  Try to talk to wife, but she’s upset about something.  Pretend to care and she proceeds to tell me about how bad her life sucks.  Imagining having sex with random women while trying to comfort her.

9:45pm - Pull kid out of the bath and take him to the bedroom to dry off.  Put some more diaper cream on his butt… snuggle up with him to make myself feel a little more human.

10:00pm - Take him in to give his mom kisses.  Ask if she’s coming to bed.  She tells me she’ll be in later.  I give her a kiss (whenever I feel like it, which isn’t often these days).  Tell her I love her.

10:05pm - Put the kiddo in the big bed.  His bed is in our room since his room is unfinished and is upstairs.  I put him in bed with me because I can’t sleep alone… even though I’ve been doing a pretty good job of it for the last several years.

10:45pm - Son is finally asleep.  Sneak out to the living room - wife is passed out on the couch.  Pick up any spilled meds and stash them in a safe place.  Go have a cigarette and think about a life where she’s dead and my son & I don’t have to live this life.

11:00pm - Crawl back into bed.  

2:00am - Wake up out of dead sleep.  Go to living room to check on wife - still passed out where I left her.  Back to bed.

4:15am - Wake up again.  Just lay there… I don’t want to go into the living room.  Close my eyes again.

6:30am - Wake up.  Detangle my son who as somehow attached himself to me in the night.  Wife didn’t come in during the night.

6:45am - Lay in bed and wonder if this morning is when I find my wife dead on the couch of an overdose.  Don’t want to get up.

….

Fun… huh?

Not because I’m a guy… seriously, I understand the point of a hospital.  If I’m badly hurt, I will go to the hospital.  If I’m not entirely sure what is wrong, I will go to the hospital.  I go in, I get my shit fixed or at least diagnosed and then I leave…

Normal people do this…

My wife is not normal.

In the last eight days we have gone to four different hospitals five different times (one we went to twice).  The first few visits were the usual “I have a migraine and yeah they gave me a month supply of pain meds that I blew threw in a week so I need something else” visits.  This culminated on Thursday when I took off work early, drove my wife to the major university hospital (hour plus drive) and waited with her for eight hours.  

When she got there, she told them her head hurt… and they basically said they wouldn’t do anything.  Then, good co-dependent husband that I am, explained to her that they won’t treat a migraine but they would treat the stomach pain…

Side note - my wife had gastric bypass ten years ago and then had to have recurring ulcers removed four years ago.  She genuinely has stomach issues - most of which could be helped if she wouldn’t smoke two packs a day and drank something other than soda & Red Bull.

And so she changed her story and they gave her pain meds!

Two days later - at a party - she fell out of a chair because she was mixing Mai Tai’s and her anxiety meds and went to another hospital to see if they would x-ray and give her something for the pain… which they wouldn’t.

Last night… at 10:30pm… we loaded my three year old up and went to the hospital because… guess what… her stomach hurt.  When they released her at 1am, she didn’t get any pain meds and we drove home wasting 3 hours and keeping my son awake.  

In five years of marriage, I’ve been to the hospital once when I filleted my finger to the bone.  I drove myself because she was too fucked up to.  My son, who is three, has only been to the doctor once outside of normal checkups… but we’ve both been dozens of times because of my wife’s borderline Munchhausen’s…

But still, we deal with it… and I honestly don’t know why anymore.  Love can only take so much abuse…

Call me an egomaniac, but I like to keep tabs on my ex’s…. and I have a quite a few, which is a subject for another day.  It’s not that I want to see if they’re doing better than me, or even worse… honestly, I don’t care how their lives are in so much as they are in a place that doesn’t fuck with my life.  Every time one of my ex’s gets in a bad place I get some kind of nastiness rained down upon me.

So today I was looking for my ex-wife and another ex-girlfriend who was immediately after my ex-wife.  The advantage to dating me and subsequently breaking up with me is that you learn to hide your personal information online really well… some of my ex’s didn’t learn this as much as others.  My ex-wife and the girlfriend above did learn most of it.

My ex-g/f apparently has divorced yet another husband since we broke up 9 years ago… so be it… I keep tabs on her daughter as well, mostly because she’s one of those people who I want to have a friendship with now that she’s an adult but scared to start anything that might result in a shitstorm.

My ex-wife, on the other hand, is happily married and found pictures of her twins - a boy and a girl.  My ex-wife wanted kids, but at the time we were married she was roughly 200+ pounds overweight.  The last time we spent any real time together was taking her to the doctor to make sure that she didn’t have uterine cancer (she didn’t).

I can honestly say 11 years after we divorced, I’m happy for her.  Her babies look adorable and I hope they bring her the happiness that we couldn’t find… 

Now I get to go wallow in my own life…

So… went about how I expected.

Got home - son had destroyed stuff, played in the toilet and had a dirty diaper.  My wife on the other hand was still wearing the same clothes as the day before, nodding off on the couch and generally looking like a piece of shit.  I went to watch something on TV and she said “Do I have veto?” because apparently “listening” to what is on TV is better than actually watching and interacting with her family.

And she made no bones about the fact that she had been nodding on the couch all day - telling me at great length about how she asked my son to play quietly and so he did… my little co-dependent in training.

After that I took the boy outside and we played in the grass and rolled around… and I apologized for leaving him in that house all day and that I was going to have to do it for a couple of more days before the weekend.  He didn’t get any of that (he’s three), he just got that Daddy was home and he was the center of my world.

I expect more of the same tonight… she did tell me she would do laundry, which she promises every couple of weeks and every couple of weeks I end up having to do mine & my sons clothes.

Love sucks…

So yesterday, the wife went to the doctor and got refills on her prescriptions… specifically her pain pills and her anti-anxiety meds.

Typically the week or so afterward are a lovely site of her drooling all over herself, ignoring my son all day with the occasional break to take more pills and chain smoke.  And then she burns through her meds after at most a week and she bitches about not having meds for another two weeks until she’s back to normal for a week or so (right around her period - fun huh?) and then she gets to go to the doctor.

I’ve tried to get her to cut back every way possible - love her, guilt her, ignore her, get pissed at her, etc…  But she’s a drug addict… I’ve never actually confessed that everywhere - good co-dependent that I am.  I always make excuses… clean up her messes… try to love my son twice as much so he doesn’t suffer immediately… and go to bed and cry that there is nothing I can do.

Wanna know the thing I beat myself up the most?  I leave my son there exposed to her drug fueled stupor… because taking him away from her would only make it worse.  So… I’ve been at work all day… wonder what tonight will hold?

So I guess I’ll be using this to bitch for a while.  No one reading it… feels good to get it out and hey - it’s cheaper than therapy!

(Back story - Left the house this morning and my wife had a half pack of cigarettes.  She had a full pack when I went to sleep at midnight last night & she doesn’t wake up until noon.  It’s now 3:30pm)

Wife:  i ran out of smokes

Me:   None that I can think of around the house unless you want to try to dig for the ones you lost under the chair.

Wife:  Tried that - not strong enough to lift the chair.  No cig or xanax…[my son] might not live!!

So let’s analyze this for a second… you chain smoked last night & for the three hours you’ve been awake and are now out of cigarettes.  You also burned through a months supply of Xanax in 5 days (30 2mg pills) and now what do you want me to do?  Leave work early (again), bring you cigarettes and then have to drive back to work (25 mins one way) to go to the grocery store?

Sorry… since you enjoy telling people you only smoke “half a pack or less a day” - you can deal.

So I signed up for a Tumblr account.  Because I’m sick of blogs, sick of having personal moments on Twitter & Facebook being commented on by people who can fuck off, sick of the only emotional conversation I can have with someone is my three year old son & frankly - there is nothing to tie this account to my online persona.

Yeah, kinda pretentious to say that I have an online persona… deal with it - I do.