Verbal @ MindSay

A quick note about communication!  We NEED it.  We USE it.  We MIS-use it.  We aren't equally gifted at it!  We all communicate on any number of levels.  Even here at Mindsay, we have both verbal and NON-verbal communication going on all the time.  Yes, NON-verbal.  Those little innuendos we all read differently.  The discreet nothings that we almost say or try not to, but do anyway.   Sometimes called , ummm, presumptions, they occur when we  ASS U ME.  I am guilty of it, and I am certainly NOT alone! 

This venue is rather notorious for mis-communications.  Why?  Easy ... because of the NON-verbal messages we read between the written lines on the blogs of friends and strangers.  At times we THINK we know what someone is saying, but turns out, they meant something quite differnent.  Hmmmm ... communication!

Some mis-read things purposely.  Some write intentionally vague messages hoping to incite a riot!  Same ask rhetorical questions only to find someone actually answering and they are horrified! 

Communication is the successful expression and reception of a given thought or emotion.

Happy Expressions!!! 

Well, my first week flew by, and here I thought I was going to have time to write everyday.  I want to write everyday.  So I will try to make this my goal. 

My job is wonderful. It is very overwhelming, and I have a lot of work to do, but all of it can be done.  It makes me realize that I am really good at what I do, and now I have some bosses that appreciate that.

I was raised by a woman that was a manic-depressive.  Only noone knew that then.  My father had died when I was 12 and that left me alone in the house, with a person who was always unsatisfied with everything I did.  And was only too happy to share that with me.  I realize as a adult, that she could not help it, and I put no blame on her.  But it is important to realize where the door opened and my accepting behavior like this started.  I married a man at 24 who was exactly like her.  But you must realize that I really believed that I was inadequate.  That i was so lucky to have this man love me, and I just keep screwing up or disappointing him. 

This went on for many years, my screwing up, him yelling at what a f**k up I was, me crying, him forgiving me.  Me vowing to do better.  Until I had no recognizable self esteem left.  Then the first punch came.  People often wonder why a women stays with a man that hits her.  Well, it never starts that way.  The years of verbal abuse have done there toll.  I actually believed that I deserved it.  If only I had his dinner hot when he got home, if only I could organize my time better, I could have the house cleaner.  I should not have yelled back at him, I should have just shut up.  He works so hard, he is under so much stress, I should have been a better at having things at home tidy, and calm etc. etc. etc.

My mother was diagnosed with terminal cancer, and given 9 months to live, I realized how much I loved her how much I hated her, and that if I was ever going to be the person I wanted to be, I had to do and say everything I needed too before she passed on.  So I started my journey.  It was not easy.  But I just started.  How I felt that I was not good enough for her love, that my whole life I never had her approval, etc. etc.  You know what, she was shocked.  I had always been her favorite of her kids,  (my sister and brother are 15 and 16 yrs older) she always thought we had a good relationship.  She thought I was a great mother, and a even greater daughter.  She was PROUD of me..... Well go figure....I told her I loved her, she told me she loved me.  I forgave her, she asked for my forgiveness.  It was a beautiful thing.  How much weight was lifted off my shoulders.  I was a good person. 

This was all happening while I lived in Dallas, Tx my mom lived in San Francisco, CA so I was traveling back and forth.  Working two weeks, taking two weeks to care for her, then back to work, this went on for a year.  During that time, I did not have time to deal with any of my husbands crap.  He watched.  He came from a alcoholic and abusive home, he watched me forgive my mom, and he realized that he needed to do the same.  We talked about it, he called his Father, and we made plans for a trip to New York so he and his dad could spend a week together.   My mother passed, during the furneral, my husband started a argument with me, mostly about how I wasn't concerned with his feelings, and how selfish I was, and it started.  I finally started to see him for what he really was.  Here I was burying my mother, and I was selfish. 

Well he never did get a chance to tell his father anything, his father dropped dead from a heart attack unexpectly a week before our trip to New York.    I am not making this up.  He being the oldest of a Irish Catholic family was expected to rise up and take over.  He did no such thing.  After picking his mother up off the floor, there was the family business to attend too.  Which just happened to be a  Irish Pub in New York.  (surprize, surprize)  So, off to New York we go.  He spent his time running the bar, and I spent my time being pregnant with my son raising my 4 yr old daughter, and taking care of his mother.  Which let me tell you, was harder and more exausting than taking care of my four yr old.  She is the most dramatic, demanding, pathetic person you would ever meet.  She drank most days, and when you would try to get her to realize that she was making her pain worse.  You just got tons of tears, and how you needed to feel sorry for her.  It was just a vicious circle.  At any rate, my Husband was coming home drunker and drunker from the bar each nite.  I found myself making excuses for him,  he is still greiving.  He is around nothing but people who numb themselves each day.  But truthfully, it was getting worse, and we started to argue about it.  I begged him to get help.  I prayed for it.  I dragged him to every outpatient re-hab clinic I could find.  He would find somthing wrong with each and every one of them.  I was going to al-anon meetings.  Nothing was working for me.

I  gave birth to a beautiful baby boy on Christmas Eve.  My father Died on Christmas Eve.  This was when everything became clearer for me.  My son was not well, lots of allergies, and no sleeping.  after about 3 months of no sleeping I cracked.  I told my husband, that he had a choice to make, booze or his family.  He chose the booze, and grabbed some clothes, got into his car and drove away.  I ran after his car, begging him to stop......I layed in the street crying and not believing he left.  We were not as important as the booze.  He did not love us as much as the booze.

That is when I realilzed I had no dignity.  And that was the day I started to take what little I had.  I swore to myself then and there.  I would never lower myself like that again.  

We did not hear from my husband for several days, and in the next few weeks, I convinced myself and my family, that daddy was a alcoholic.  And if we just prayed hard enough, God would make everything alright.  He was sick, he had a disease, and it could be cured.    But for better or for worse, this is what a good wife and mother would do.  So I did.  We kept it from his family for a while, then we told them we were seperated. 

My husbands drinking was getting worse.  He was drinking first thing in the morning, and was not showing up for our marriage counciling appointments, not even coming to the house to see the kids.  My daughter would just sit by the window, waiting for his car to drive up, it used to break my heart.  Then he calls one day, and announces that he is going to check himself into a rehab clinic for 3 months.  He knows he has a problem, and he is going to get the help he needs.

Glory hallalua!  So we wait and one month goes by, and he has not gone in, then another,  so I finally confront him. and he tells me he will sign up right away.  He comes to me and asks me if the night before he commits himself, could he spend the night at home.  since he won't be seeing the kids, for several months, so I agree.  I had packed up all his clothes and put them up in the attic, and when he came to the house that night, he asked if we could find his bathing suit.  Since he will be detoxing, and excercise is all part of that, and they have a pool there, so I pull the attic stairs down and up into the hot attic we go, as we are searching thru the boxes the phone rings, and since I am not anywhere near the phone I let the machine pick it up.  The message is from one of the patrons of our Pub, telling me she has been having an affair with my husband for the last year, and that she is pregnant with his child.  I just remember after that, I was leaping through the air toward him, punching him and punching him.

He just lay there, letting me hit him, he did not even put up his hands to protect himself.  he just kept saying he was sorry, he never meant to hurt me.  I told him to go get her an abortion.  (Me the good catholic girl)  He told me is was too late, she was too far along for that.  Then I thought I would find her and throw her down a flight of stairs so she would have a mis-carriage.  Then I even toyed with the idea that we would adopt the child and raise it as our own.  Yes I know, all crazy ideas.  Then I just got on my knees and begged God to forgive me for such horrible thoughts, this baby was innocent.  This baby did not ask to be in these curcumstances.  What a horrible person I was to wish dealth on this innocent baby. 

Off to rehab he goes, and through out the next 3 months, I recieved many calls from his pregnant girlfirend whose name is Michelle.  She shared with me many details of their life together.  It turned out that their affair really started when I was pregnant with my son.  It had been off and on, he kept trying to stop it, but (according to her) they were too much in love and ended up back together.  I kept thinking how he was so drunk, and you just took atvantage of the situation.  But enough was enough for me.  I found an attorney, and filed for divorce.

Believe me when I tell you I did speak to my preist, who advised against divorce, and my therapist who advised for divorce but honestly,  I was going to my al-anon meetings, and one day I was listening to one woman talk about how her husband drinks and then passes out on the couch.  I asked her why she put up with that.  And that is when I realized, that even if he got sober, I did not want to be married to a alcoholic.  I did not want to always worry when he was five minutes late, or not be able to have a glass of wine with my dinner if I chose too.

I did not want to be married to him any longer. He was a cheater, and I found him pathic.  When he got out of rehab, I asked him if he still loved me, he told me that as part of his program, he was not to make any decisions.  He was just to worry about himself, and concentrate on himself.  Honestly, isnt that what he had been doing his whole life??  I almost laughed out loud. Well, a baby was going to be joining the real world in a few months whether he liked it or not.  So he recieved the divorce papers, and he went nuts!

He showed up at the house, yelling and screaming, waving the papers, "how could I leave him"  I told him about Michelle and all the details of there affair that she had shared with me, that he loved her, and wanted out of this marriage for sometime.  The baby, the drinking, etc,etc.  He started hitting me, punching me kicking me.  I was on the floor trying to protect my head when he was kicking my stomach I looked up and there was my daughter, grabbing him by his leg trying to stop him.  He was so out of it he was swatting her like a fly.  I was so afraid that she would be hurt.  And I also realized that she had never seen her father hit me.  I had kept this part of my life hidden.  I covered my bruises with make-up or sunglasses.  I lied and made up stories about accidents.  to cover my shame.  I yelled to my daughter, Quick, go call the police.  she ran to the phone and called them.  They showed up a few minutes later,  He was arrested, and they told me how to get a restraining order against him.

I got dressed, got the kids to a friends, and went to my attorney's office.  He walked me down to the court house, to get a restraining order.  The court house was only open until 3pm.  I was too late.  So they told me how I could go to my towns police dept, and file a emergency restraining order to cover me until I could get into the county courthouse.  I walked into that police station, and told them what I wanted, and they told me there was no judge there to grant me a restraining order.  I begged them to help me.  They told me no.  I told them, that if I went back to my house with out protection, and my husband was let out of jail, I was in total fear of what he would do to me.  They told me to come back on Monday.  I burst into tears.  I told them that I would just have to stay here at the police station over the weekend so I would not be hurt.  Finally the policeman called the judge.  When I finally got to see the judge, I got the same treatment.  He told me I could wait until Monday, and that he was ferious with me for pulling him into the court house.  I told him that I was afraid of my husband, that I had never had him arrested before, that he was going to be very angry with me and when he gets this mad, he will try to hurt me worse.  The judge could see my black eye, could see the bruises on my arms and face.  He finally gave me the protection, but he was not happy about it.

I got home after collecting my kids, and called my sister in California.  I admitted to her the whole story, how many years I had been abused, and kept it hidden.  It was hard, but  I finally felt I was taking charge of my life.  Did you know that 98% of poeple that were raised in abusive homes either marry a abuser or become one?  Well, not my kids.  No way.  That was where I found my strength.

Well, my husband stalked me for weeks.  He would drive by the house several times a day.  When I would leave work, he would be parked in the parking lot. And follow me home.  When I would exit the grocery store, I would see him parked in the parking lot.  He really scared me.  He would call the house day and night.  Threatening me.  Telling me what a loser I was.  Did I honestly think anyone else would ever want me?  How ugly I was, and fat, and a slob.  I changed my number, I even bought one of those tape devices at radio shack and had every call recorded.  The police did nothing.  He tried to break into my house several times, I would call the police, they would just ask him nicely to leave.  It was his word against mine.

His entire family turned against me.  Of course they did not know about the affair or the child that was now born, and a girl.  They named her ashley.  Then my husband filed for visitation prevledges for the kids.  I was not against them, but with-in guidelines, cuz I was pretty sure he was drinking again.  They granted visitation with-out guidelines.  One day, he told me that he wanted the kids to meet their half sister.  I tried to explain how tramatic it would be for our daughter.  She would not understand.  since she was only 9 yrs old, how could she have a sister that wasn't from her mom and dad.  He did not care, he wanted them to meet.  So in order to ease the blow, I sat my 9yr old down and explained the birds and the bees.  I thought it was way to young for her to know these things, and then I told her about her half sister.  She cried and cried.  She could not understand why her daddy did not love us anymore.  I tried to get her to understand how he loved her no matter what.  It was me he no longer loved.

She did meet her sister, she already knew Michelle from the Pub, but she never got all warm and fuzzy with her.  Understandably so.  I was accused of brainwashing her.  I reccomended that she and her father start theraphy together.

The affair finally was found out and his family was shocked.  His mother called to tell me that her husband may have been an alcoholic and beaten her, but he never fooled around on her!  Here again, I am  being told that I must have had something to do with why he did these things.  She told me that when her husband would come home, and be drunk,and she was afraid she was going to be hit, she would just go upstairs to bed, and that way she was able to avoid it.  That I should just do that, and I would not have to call the police and embarrass the family. So once again, I am being told that I did not do things the right way, what a screw up I am.  I will admit, that I just shook my head, and I knew she was wrong, but it still hurt.  And I cried, and cried,

My daughter and her father started theraphy and I never thought that did a whole lot one way or the other.  Then one day, when they where spending the nite with their father, I get a call from my daughter.  She is crying, she told me she is in the Pocono's and that their father had taken them there for the weekend (against the visistation order) but that there father has beaten up on the dog, and it woke them and scared them so much, that she just grabbed her little brother, and walked about 5 miles until she found a phone, and called me.  In their pajama's  She could give me no info on their location.  The phone had no number, no phone book.  I told her to hang up and call me back in 5 minutes.  I called the phone company who told me they could not help, I called the police.  The state police then spent the next 6 hrs trying to find them.  But we finally did.  They were returned home to me many hours later.  Dirty and hungry.  I had my attorney file a motion for emergency removal of the visitation order, and it was granted. 

I want to to remember that my husband had still not signed the divorce decree.  This is now about 3 yrs later, and he will not sign it.  I was not asking for anything.  No money, execpt child support.  No part of the business, just to be free of him.  He just had to have power and control over us.  That was all it was about.  We were taking power and control away.

We moved to Lancaster then.  It was not with out a huge fight in court.  He did not want me to leave New York.  Power and control.  My kids and I started a new life.  We did not even tell anyone about anything.  When we were in New York, our friends were very nice, but there started to be this pity factor.  And to feel that everyone pity's you, well it is horrible. 

We started the healing process here.  My daughter loved her new school, and my son started Kindergarten here.  We lived in a stress-less home.  No drama, there father called once a week, and kept potioning the court for visitation.  Finally one day I opened the mail and found court papers telling me that he was going for full custody.  Full custody!  The next 10 months were spent in court, with him trying to prove me as unfit.  Then prove me unstable.  He hired private decectives and tried to show how I was crazy.  And let me tell you, going thru this, it almost did make me crazy.  But thank the Lord God almighty, the judge saw right through him.  And he even gave me full custody, with no visistation unless he agreed to court appointed theraphy.  The therapist found my husband to be a complete and total narcisist.  Unable to feel anyone else's feelings other than his own.

Just after 5 sessions of theraphy, which was very stressfull and upsetting for my children, my husband announces that he is moving to Florida.  Which defeats the whole visitation process.  I mean what a joke.  This is all about power and control.  And once he realized that he lost all power and control, he gave up. 

Turns out, and I did not find this out for several years, that he had been imbezzeling money from the business, the family business for years to finance his drug habit!  The family confronted him and told him they would buy him out of the business in an attempt to give him a fresh start, and they washed their hands of him!  So he finally signed the divorce papers, and moved away.

To be continued..