And I panicked

Things have been more or less quiet lately.  I keep going to my therapist and Al Anon and he is starting therapy on Saturday.  Only once or twice a week I explode.  I even proposed to not fight for a month…but I’m still fighting with Frank once a week…at least it’s getting better than before…everyday fights and explosions.

The thing is, I’m getting comfortable.  I even let him sleep on the bed…nothing happens of course but this niceness is freaking me out.  It’s like being two people…one is in peace and happy but then the scaredy cat comes out.

And I slipped again

After the last fight last week, I was able to spend the rest of the week in total peace.  No more fighting, we were getting along, the mood at the house was peaceful and we even went out as friends to the movies and a walk to the park on Sunday…ahhh Nirvana and then this Monday…Ka-POW.

He is off on Mondays, he looked for a couples therapist.  When I got home, we went to the terrace to talk.  We did the active listening exercise and it was great (one person talks for 3 minutes the other listens and when he is done you repeat what he said, no opinions or interpretations, just repeat what you heard).  And then…boom.  He told me that he found a therapist, the appointment is on the 22nd and that for now he is going to see him alone because he wants to tell him what happened.  Well, I know I’m not a machine but I could swear that something inside me went auga auga like those boat alarms.

I didn’t tell him anything about that, I didn’t want to give him another excuse so he could keep saying that he can’t tell me anything…so, naturally I proceeded to pick a fight.  I started calm, and told him that since there is no appointment for us in the near future as a couple, I had to tell him a concern that I had…mmm.  I had the nagging feeling that since I sent them a very strong email (to him and the ho_ _, excuse me, his friend Maritza) to their work addresses; I had the paranoid feeling that he was just being nice to me in order to protect her so I wouldn’t go there make a scene and get them fired.

Just as I was telling him this, the weirdest thing happened. It was as if I was having an out of body experience…me, the sane one, was hoovering over the crazy one…the one talking to him.  I was screaming to myself…STOP, SHUT UP, but nope, Crazy-Me didn’t pay attention.  So, insanity took over and I ended up theathening her children, him, her, saying gangster crap like: If my children suffer, her children will suffer DOUBLE…you will never tell me that you love me in front of her because YOU LOVE HER and you are protecting her, you are sure I will hurt her….ra ra ra .

I hate to say this but he looked at me like I was a crazy monkey and to be totally honest…I was.  That made me furious…that he was right.  He didn’t say anything…I did all the yelling, the insulting, the gangster crap…all that was left was to drop a microphone and leave the stage.

Oh my Lord, all that Nirvana peace out the window.  I made a total fool of myself.  I don’t know how but I manage to run to the bathroom, tear my clothes and jump in the cold shower.  Afterwards, I called my sponsor from Al-Anon, all embarrassed and full of guilt.  And I thank God for this woman because I was feeling horrible, a failure, I abandoned my peace, I gave him more excuses to keep judging me ( and probably commit me)…but my Sponsor just laughed.

She said, ahh te embarraste (you shat yourself) and kept laughing until I started laughing.  I laughed for a long time, God do I need to laugh, and started listening, really listen.  She told me that he even though he is the alcoholic, I’m sick.  I’ve coping with this disease using defense mechanisms, aggressive attitudes and thoughts  that are not healthy.  I must give myself time to heal from his infidelity and his abusive behaviour towards me (his apathy and completely ignoring me has been abusive).  I must forgive myself and no matter how many times I slip…I have to get up again.

Yesterday morning I told him in a very calmed manner that I didn’t believe that he loves me.  That I don’t trust him and that I feel, truly feel, that he is just with me out of convenience because for some reason or other he can’t be with Maritza (God I hate that name).  I stopped myself and left for work.  Last night I went to an Al-Anon meeting and even though I didn’t get a turn to talk to the group; I felt calm.  I hugged my sponsor and went home.  I didn’t talk to Frank last night.  This morning, very politely I wished him a good morning and a good day.

Baby steps, most importantly with myself.  I’m still hurting and I have to make peace with the fact that I will be hurting for a long time.  I have to protect myself.  I can’t expect that everything will be perfect and that I will be perfect.  I’m afraid to get hurt again, that he is still lying. That he doesn’t want to get couples therapy…I’m afraid I’m afraid I AM AFRAID.  So, I have to take it slow. Sloth-slow.

 

 

 

A new low

If that is even possible.  Let’s see. I ‘ve taken a few days off and I’m regretting this because at least at my job I would keep busy all the time.  At home with my two kids; I have to pretend than I’m enjoying myself.

On Monday we went to the last session with the social worker, she wasn’t a doctor after all.  She wanted to keep seeing us but I’ve already told Frank the night before that I prefer to see a doctor.  I didn’t like the way she so casually implied this was my fault for being a mother first and that since he was an alcoholic, I couldn’t mention anything that would upset him…so according to this woman, I’m suppose to stash my feeling where the sun doesn’t shine.

She told us that I could make the appointment under my name and say…oh for example that I’m depressed…Frank of course wanted to keep seeing her…imagine, blame it all on alcoholism and I’m not allowed to even mention his precious Maritza because it would upset him…I looked at him in disbelief…didn’t I just say the night before that I didn’t want to see this social worker again??? That we needed a professional, a doctor?  But there he was again…ignoring what I said.

So I told him that since he wanted to see her again, I would make the appointment but it would be just for him, I wouldn’t go in. Give me the number to call I told him.  Later he said he couldn’t find it.  I opened his wallet and there it was…ta-raaaa.  Another lye.  Why?  I told him, if you wanted to do this by yourself, you could just have told me…you didn’t have to lye again.  I guess that after years of lies…that is all he knows.

So there, another stupid and pointless fight. But this time I got even more creative.  I emailed him and his Maritza a very long letter to their offices (since they use their office emails to send each other I love you’s and love poems,  Why couldn’t I use their work addresses to tell them how this romance hurt me and my family?).  It’s humiliating I know but when we were talking to the social worker he said that Maritza was so relieved of clearing her name…What?  I know there are morons in this planet but this woman is taking the price.

So I wrote them how they have in their reckeleness destroyed a marriage and a family. I asked her how is it possible that she, who went through a divorce because her husband cheated on her, could do the same to another woman…another family.

I’m expecting the impossible.  I have a fair code of conduct…don’t do on to others what you hate to be done to you…SIMPLE.  Why do  I expect that this two low lives, cheap,drunk,  excuses of human beings to have honor and behave with dignity.  They are nothing, cheating, lyers, low life garbage who truly believe they have done nothing wrong.

But I’m exhausted of being a victim.  Last night I dreamed that Maritza had a disease and Frank wouldn’t tell me if it was contagious to my children…so I strangled him. I woke up with so much tension that my face hurt.  I told him my nightmare and promised him that if he and Maritza ever hurt or made my children feel bad, they will pay.  Not a threat…a promise.

I worked out afterwards like I was The Rock.  I kept having this fantasies where I would break their legs and punched them until all their teeth would fall off.

After I finished, working out and plotting all these perversities, I sat down and looked at the morning sky.  I truly asked myself if punching them would bring me any comfort…if them being hurt would make me feel better.  I smiled at myself and with all the honesty I could muster…I said no.  No, it won’t bring me joy or peace to hurt them.  If anything, it would make me humiliate myself even more if that was possible and give them the more reason to say that I’m no good.

I’m expecting undertanding and respect from a narcissistic, immature, alcoholic person. To understand how hurted, humiliated and ignored I feel.  He could never understand…how can he?  He truly believes he has done nothing wrong and that he didn’t tell me he was in love with someone else because I would argue with him.  He is convinced he is right and I’m wrong.  And I think that the only reason he is trying to be civil with me is so I won’t run to the Hotel where they work and make a show from which they would get fired.

I wish there was a button that I could press so I would stop feeling so miserable.