A VERY SAD ENDING AND A VERY SAD DAY....
I suppose that some of you know that my marriage to Tracy has not been the most happy ones at times these last ten years for alot of reasons. I have been ill thru alot of it, and I suppose the biggest problem and hurdle to try and get over was always Tracy's drinking. Well, sadly, I suppose the matter is closed and settled once and for all. I put Tracy on a bus today for Dallas. He's gone for good. Taking a job with a trucking company for over the road, and he won't be down this way again.
I never wanted this, our marriage, our lives, us, to come to this. Oh, I knew when I met Tracy, that he was an alcoholic, and he drank much more at our beginning than he did at the end of us. Unfortuately,his attitude towards me, his blackouts, his moods, his yealling at me, and his verbal abuse of me increased to the point that for the last few years I would hide out in my bedroom come Thursday afternoon when he came home from work and the weekend drinking started. He got louder and more critical of any and everything I did and said as the hours passed. If I could have food ready for him when he came home, I could delay the torrential rain of abuse for a few hours. Usually it ened up with me always being completely useless and worthless.
I suppose things came to the end they did this time a few days after Thanksgiving when I ended up in the hospital ER where they admitted me directly into ICU with respiratory failure and congestive heart failure. The doctors couldn't get my oxygen sats to go above 70 which apparently is very bad since I have been on 24/7 assisted oxygen for the last 2 years. After a night in ICU, they put me into a regular room and began all their tests to see what was wrong. Now when I went to the ER, from my doctor's office, I had driven myself. I had tried Tracy, but he never answers the phone to anyone but me, so I had the nurses call my mother to go to my house, tell Tracy what was going on, get HIM AND some clothes and the things I would need while in the hospital and bring them to me, so I could tell Tracy what was happening, and that also, in the ICU I would not have access to a phone either, but Tracy refused to come to the hospital. I was diagnosed with of course pulmonary hypertension (which I already have), double pneumonia in both lungs, and after a lung biopsy, a staph infection in my lungs. I was also extremely anemic and was given 2 pints of blood in transfusion, four different types antibiotics, two in IV and another 2 orally, as well as huge shots of iron 3 times a week and some sort of shot into my stomach every night. I was moved to an Isolation/infection control room, where no one could come in without gowns and masks, and I couldn't leave the room. It's so nice to be treated like Typhoid Mary!
Now thru 3 and 1/2 weeks of this in the hospital, no matter how desperately I called and begged my husband to come see me every day, he came 3 times, for about 5 minutes each, and those were to ask for money. He brought me some clothes I asked him to bring one time, but he never stayed, no matter how I pleaded with him to. He stayed home and stayed drunk. The weather was horrible, rainy and cold, so he was not working, so he was drinking, 24/7. I would call and call, and he wouldn't pick up.The answering machine would.....when he would, it would be to yell at me to please stop calling and yelling at him about not seeing me, or stop drinking, or in his words, "JUST STOP!" and he would hang up.
My only help while I was in the hospital was from my mother. No matter the time or how tired she was from working all day, she would come, bring me fresh clothes, wash the dirty ones, stop by my house, bear Tracy tirades to get me the things I needed and leave, bring them to me, bring me food, just come to be with me so I didn't feel so alone and scared. She didn't have to do this either, especially after I went into Isolation. Stan is undergoing Chemo treatments, so she had to be very careful not to bring anything (any bug) that might have made him sick.. Now don't get me wrong, she is not the innocent victim in all this, she would call Tracy and just lay into him with horrible things, telling him to get off his sorry ass and get a job, and if he was so worthless he couldn't or wouldn't even go see his poor wife, then she would be more than happy to throw his ass out on the street, etc.
On the day I was told I could go home, Mom was working all day, so I tried to reach Tracy but couldn't. Apparently mom did, cause he showed up at my room, loaded up my thngs and waited while they gave me my last IV treatment and signed all my papers, brouht me home andeven went to the pharmacy for me with all my prescriptions. The first night I was home wasn't the welcome home I was hoping for though, at first Tracy was very attentive and helped me get into bed, and get set up with my new oxygen unit, and made sure I had plenty of ice to chew on with cold water in it. When he went to the pharmacy to get my prescriptions, I made a fatal error. I gave him some money. He paid for the scripts, but he also bought a 6 pack of beer. I didn't know until I had awoken after a nap and got up to talk to him and spend some time with him. I only took a few seconds to know he was drunk, he was surly and very rude to me. When he let me on the computer to catch up with my friends and facebook, he got even worse. I told him I knew he was drunk and then the real Tracy burst out. It was because I was a worthless stupid bitch that never gave him any love, never did a day of work on my on, never paid any bills, just stole all his money, his parents money, anything he had so I could blow it! He promptly thanked me for being a useless worthless and horrible bitch, thanked me for ruining what could have been such a wonderful homecoming, then went into his room, slammed the door, locked it, rolled my oxygen unit to block the door and went to bed. Well, I found the remainder of the 6 pack (only 2 were left and I poured them down the sink. He was furious I had did that when he woke up, but that's another day, another story.
For the next 2 and 1/2 weeks, things were rather quiet, tense, but quiet. He was sober by now, having run out of money and beer. I kept NO money in the house at all and if I needed something, I'd call Mom and she would take care of getting it. That all changed at Christmastime. On the day before Christmas Eve, his company had their Christmas Eve Party/Safety meeting. He was gone almost all day and when he came home, he brough home some bar-b-que, a skillet he had won, and a frozen turkey, and money for us to finally go grocery shopping and puppy/kitty food shopping. And unbeknownst to me, beer.
I got cleaned up and ready to go and was checking something out on the puter when he came into the kitchen and started talking to me, being surly as hell. I told him I knew he was drinking, and asked him how much did he buy? He told me there was no law he had to stay sober and he had only bought a six. I was so upset I could barely breathe. I told him I would go out and get the things we needed myself. I had no business driving yet since I had only been out of the hospital a short time and was still so sick, but I told him I would not get into the car with him, cause he was drunk. I shakily got into the car, buckled in, and to his yelling, "Great, now you'll bust the two tires flat AND wreck the car", I left. It took me almost 3 hours to go to the petstore, grocery store and the pharmacy. It was dark when I got home. Was I met by a concerned husband, happy that I was home safely? No, as soon as I pulled up, he started screaming at me for what I had bought, that it would all end up in the dumpster because I always just bought shit! That all I did was blow every penny he ever had! He finished unloading the car and then commanded me to go to my mother's and fax a document to the unemployment office so he could hopefully start getting unemployment soon!. I did so, then came home and went into my room, didn't talk to him, made sure the groceries were put up correctly and left him alone.
I was so shaky and so tired I could hardly walk. Sometime later, I heard him go to bed. Sadie came into my room and needed out. Now, I'm not stupid, for Tracy to be as roaring drunk as he was, he had brought home much more than a six pack. I put on my shoes and Sadie and I went on a little looksie. Sure enough, in a corner behind the little screen porch tucked near the pier was a cooler and in it was the remainer of two tall six packs. I popped the tabs on them all and poured them out onto the grass, put the empties back in the cooler, and went back in the house and to bed, waiting for him to wake up and the ensuing battle that I knew was to begin. He awoke some time later, but no roar of anger did I hear. Instead, I went to the door and into the porch and Tracy was no where to be found. About 15 minutes later, he comes walking back, with another bag full of beer with him, bitching at me that I had just poured out over $15 in beer, and all it accomplished was him having to walk all the way to the liquor store again, and he'd hid this one better, why didn't I just fucking die, or leave him the fuck alone. Merry Christmas Carla and Tracy.
Yes folks. This was Christmas eve. I told him I had had enough, I wanted him packed up and gone. I told him over and over again that I just didn't want him here anymore, I wanted him to pack his things and leave. That no matter how much I loved him and tried to wish him better and took care of him, he would never ever quit drinking, and I would no longer die for him. Since the chances of my dying with my lungs and all that was wrong with me this time was significant, I needed him here, and he had no intention of being here. And I refused to beg and plead him to stop anymore. I had begged and pleaded with him to stay sober, to just once and maybe finally choose me over his alcohol, and once again, he chose his beer. And once again, I was left with my tears, and emptiness, only this time, there was no longer enough love left to keep doing this anymore. The whole while I was in the hospital and my husband couldn't and wouldn't come visit a wife that was so sick the doctors weren't sure she was going to make it for several days there, and still he cared more about the alcohol than me. Here, on the Eve of Christ's birth and even a christmas wish couldn't make him love me enough. Only this time I suppose all the wishes from my mom and my family and friends that have worried about me for so long maybe came true. I just wouldn't do this anymoer.I still cared about him. I still didn't want to hurt him. I stil didn't want anything bad or evil to happen to him. But I no longer wanted to be married to him, or to be with him unless he would swear to me to put me first. To swear to stop drinking. To swear to go to treatment. Or to leave, forever. Pregnant pause here........Give you all one guess which promise or wish he chose...........Right........I'm expendable. He still loves me, wants to grow old with me, but I'm just as much of a horrible bitch as his first wife. Once again, Alcohol wins again. The last 4-5 days were silent and deadly. He was online constantly looking for a job and I guess found one in OTR trucking again. I brought him to bus station today to go to Dallas. I cried and told him I didn't want it to end this way ever and wished it had gone different or he had loved me enough and more than his alcohol to stay with me. He said he wanted us to stay together too, he wanted us to grow old together and die together, but I'm the one that threw him out. I asked him to please let me know how he is, but I suppose he will never contact me.
Strange end to all this. I do care about him and love him. At least I love the man that is sober, not the alcoholic. He was so funny, and smart, and fun to be with, and to stay up talking with all hours, about everything, politics, religion, sex, sports, etc. What do you do when one man you love leaves and another takes his place?How do you breathe again? What do you do next after the world falls apart? Is there a world left to go to?
I never wanted this, our marriage, our lives, us, to come to this. Oh, I knew when I met Tracy, that he was an alcoholic, and he drank much more at our beginning than he did at the end of us. Unfortuately,his attitude towards me, his blackouts, his moods, his yealling at me, and his verbal abuse of me increased to the point that for the last few years I would hide out in my bedroom come Thursday afternoon when he came home from work and the weekend drinking started. He got louder and more critical of any and everything I did and said as the hours passed. If I could have food ready for him when he came home, I could delay the torrential rain of abuse for a few hours. Usually it ened up with me always being completely useless and worthless.
I suppose things came to the end they did this time a few days after Thanksgiving when I ended up in the hospital ER where they admitted me directly into ICU with respiratory failure and congestive heart failure. The doctors couldn't get my oxygen sats to go above 70 which apparently is very bad since I have been on 24/7 assisted oxygen for the last 2 years. After a night in ICU, they put me into a regular room and began all their tests to see what was wrong. Now when I went to the ER, from my doctor's office, I had driven myself. I had tried Tracy, but he never answers the phone to anyone but me, so I had the nurses call my mother to go to my house, tell Tracy what was going on, get HIM AND some clothes and the things I would need while in the hospital and bring them to me, so I could tell Tracy what was happening, and that also, in the ICU I would not have access to a phone either, but Tracy refused to come to the hospital. I was diagnosed with of course pulmonary hypertension (which I already have), double pneumonia in both lungs, and after a lung biopsy, a staph infection in my lungs. I was also extremely anemic and was given 2 pints of blood in transfusion, four different types antibiotics, two in IV and another 2 orally, as well as huge shots of iron 3 times a week and some sort of shot into my stomach every night. I was moved to an Isolation/infection control room, where no one could come in without gowns and masks, and I couldn't leave the room. It's so nice to be treated like Typhoid Mary!
Now thru 3 and 1/2 weeks of this in the hospital, no matter how desperately I called and begged my husband to come see me every day, he came 3 times, for about 5 minutes each, and those were to ask for money. He brought me some clothes I asked him to bring one time, but he never stayed, no matter how I pleaded with him to. He stayed home and stayed drunk. The weather was horrible, rainy and cold, so he was not working, so he was drinking, 24/7. I would call and call, and he wouldn't pick up.The answering machine would.....when he would, it would be to yell at me to please stop calling and yelling at him about not seeing me, or stop drinking, or in his words, "JUST STOP!" and he would hang up.
My only help while I was in the hospital was from my mother. No matter the time or how tired she was from working all day, she would come, bring me fresh clothes, wash the dirty ones, stop by my house, bear Tracy tirades to get me the things I needed and leave, bring them to me, bring me food, just come to be with me so I didn't feel so alone and scared. She didn't have to do this either, especially after I went into Isolation. Stan is undergoing Chemo treatments, so she had to be very careful not to bring anything (any bug) that might have made him sick.. Now don't get me wrong, she is not the innocent victim in all this, she would call Tracy and just lay into him with horrible things, telling him to get off his sorry ass and get a job, and if he was so worthless he couldn't or wouldn't even go see his poor wife, then she would be more than happy to throw his ass out on the street, etc.
On the day I was told I could go home, Mom was working all day, so I tried to reach Tracy but couldn't. Apparently mom did, cause he showed up at my room, loaded up my thngs and waited while they gave me my last IV treatment and signed all my papers, brouht me home andeven went to the pharmacy for me with all my prescriptions. The first night I was home wasn't the welcome home I was hoping for though, at first Tracy was very attentive and helped me get into bed, and get set up with my new oxygen unit, and made sure I had plenty of ice to chew on with cold water in it. When he went to the pharmacy to get my prescriptions, I made a fatal error. I gave him some money. He paid for the scripts, but he also bought a 6 pack of beer. I didn't know until I had awoken after a nap and got up to talk to him and spend some time with him. I only took a few seconds to know he was drunk, he was surly and very rude to me. When he let me on the computer to catch up with my friends and facebook, he got even worse. I told him I knew he was drunk and then the real Tracy burst out. It was because I was a worthless stupid bitch that never gave him any love, never did a day of work on my on, never paid any bills, just stole all his money, his parents money, anything he had so I could blow it! He promptly thanked me for being a useless worthless and horrible bitch, thanked me for ruining what could have been such a wonderful homecoming, then went into his room, slammed the door, locked it, rolled my oxygen unit to block the door and went to bed. Well, I found the remainder of the 6 pack (only 2 were left and I poured them down the sink. He was furious I had did that when he woke up, but that's another day, another story.
For the next 2 and 1/2 weeks, things were rather quiet, tense, but quiet. He was sober by now, having run out of money and beer. I kept NO money in the house at all and if I needed something, I'd call Mom and she would take care of getting it. That all changed at Christmastime. On the day before Christmas Eve, his company had their Christmas Eve Party/Safety meeting. He was gone almost all day and when he came home, he brough home some bar-b-que, a skillet he had won, and a frozen turkey, and money for us to finally go grocery shopping and puppy/kitty food shopping. And unbeknownst to me, beer.
I got cleaned up and ready to go and was checking something out on the puter when he came into the kitchen and started talking to me, being surly as hell. I told him I knew he was drinking, and asked him how much did he buy? He told me there was no law he had to stay sober and he had only bought a six. I was so upset I could barely breathe. I told him I would go out and get the things we needed myself. I had no business driving yet since I had only been out of the hospital a short time and was still so sick, but I told him I would not get into the car with him, cause he was drunk. I shakily got into the car, buckled in, and to his yelling, "Great, now you'll bust the two tires flat AND wreck the car", I left. It took me almost 3 hours to go to the petstore, grocery store and the pharmacy. It was dark when I got home. Was I met by a concerned husband, happy that I was home safely? No, as soon as I pulled up, he started screaming at me for what I had bought, that it would all end up in the dumpster because I always just bought shit! That all I did was blow every penny he ever had! He finished unloading the car and then commanded me to go to my mother's and fax a document to the unemployment office so he could hopefully start getting unemployment soon!. I did so, then came home and went into my room, didn't talk to him, made sure the groceries were put up correctly and left him alone.
I was so shaky and so tired I could hardly walk. Sometime later, I heard him go to bed. Sadie came into my room and needed out. Now, I'm not stupid, for Tracy to be as roaring drunk as he was, he had brought home much more than a six pack. I put on my shoes and Sadie and I went on a little looksie. Sure enough, in a corner behind the little screen porch tucked near the pier was a cooler and in it was the remainer of two tall six packs. I popped the tabs on them all and poured them out onto the grass, put the empties back in the cooler, and went back in the house and to bed, waiting for him to wake up and the ensuing battle that I knew was to begin. He awoke some time later, but no roar of anger did I hear. Instead, I went to the door and into the porch and Tracy was no where to be found. About 15 minutes later, he comes walking back, with another bag full of beer with him, bitching at me that I had just poured out over $15 in beer, and all it accomplished was him having to walk all the way to the liquor store again, and he'd hid this one better, why didn't I just fucking die, or leave him the fuck alone. Merry Christmas Carla and Tracy.
Yes folks. This was Christmas eve. I told him I had had enough, I wanted him packed up and gone. I told him over and over again that I just didn't want him here anymore, I wanted him to pack his things and leave. That no matter how much I loved him and tried to wish him better and took care of him, he would never ever quit drinking, and I would no longer die for him. Since the chances of my dying with my lungs and all that was wrong with me this time was significant, I needed him here, and he had no intention of being here. And I refused to beg and plead him to stop anymore. I had begged and pleaded with him to stay sober, to just once and maybe finally choose me over his alcohol, and once again, he chose his beer. And once again, I was left with my tears, and emptiness, only this time, there was no longer enough love left to keep doing this anymore. The whole while I was in the hospital and my husband couldn't and wouldn't come visit a wife that was so sick the doctors weren't sure she was going to make it for several days there, and still he cared more about the alcohol than me. Here, on the Eve of Christ's birth and even a christmas wish couldn't make him love me enough. Only this time I suppose all the wishes from my mom and my family and friends that have worried about me for so long maybe came true. I just wouldn't do this anymoer.I still cared about him. I still didn't want to hurt him. I stil didn't want anything bad or evil to happen to him. But I no longer wanted to be married to him, or to be with him unless he would swear to me to put me first. To swear to stop drinking. To swear to go to treatment. Or to leave, forever. Pregnant pause here........Give you all one guess which promise or wish he chose...........Right........I'm expendable. He still loves me, wants to grow old with me, but I'm just as much of a horrible bitch as his first wife. Once again, Alcohol wins again. The last 4-5 days were silent and deadly. He was online constantly looking for a job and I guess found one in OTR trucking again. I brought him to bus station today to go to Dallas. I cried and told him I didn't want it to end this way ever and wished it had gone different or he had loved me enough and more than his alcohol to stay with me. He said he wanted us to stay together too, he wanted us to grow old together and die together, but I'm the one that threw him out. I asked him to please let me know how he is, but I suppose he will never contact me.
Strange end to all this. I do care about him and love him. At least I love the man that is sober, not the alcoholic. He was so funny, and smart, and fun to be with, and to stay up talking with all hours, about everything, politics, religion, sex, sports, etc. What do you do when one man you love leaves and another takes his place?How do you breathe again? What do you do next after the world falls apart? Is there a world left to go to?