cleaning out the closets
I've decided to write about my ex-husband now...I just feel like getting it out of my head and throwing it out to the universe.
Even though my ex-husband loved me very much, he was in no way able to have a good, trusting relationship with anyone. He was a pathological liar and even lied about things he didn't have to lie about. He never had enough money and I could never figure out why until close to the end of our marriage. Although I made more money than he did, his salary wasn't much lower than mine at the time.
He spent hundreds of dollars on lottery tickets and made sure that he threw away the non-winning ones somewhere away from our apartment. He is an alcoholic, but had been in recovery for almost 10 years when I met him. He went to AA meetings several times a week, drank coffee by the gallon and smoked enough cigarettes to make the cigarette manufacturers quite comfortable.
He also had a daughter from a previous relationship who came to stay with us every other weekend. She and I became quite close and we adored each other. He took advantage of my relationship with her to avoid his responsibilities as a father. Even though he loved her with all of his heart, he knew that I would play with her, take her places, feed her and generally be there for her if he decided he couldn't be bothered. He would certainly deny that if questioned about it, but it is the truth.
Our marriage was never strong and even though we talked and laughed a lot, his compulsion to lie (and my gullibility) were the broken basis on which we began married life. After about a year or so, his actions became even more extreme. He seemed to be losing money as if he had holes in his wallet and pockets. He eventually stopped contributing to paying bills altogether and all of our finances became my burden. I tried to talk to him about it, but he always had an excuse and even told me that he decided to give extra child support to his daughter's mother. I believed him because he was very good at making sure that he paid child support.
Then on the weekends he would become lethargic and just want to lay on the sofa all day which was unusual for him. He always had an excuse, but they were coming faster and greater in quantity. One evening, he was in the bathroom for what seemed an unusually long time and I got up to knock on the door to see if he was alright. When I knocked, the door swung open because it wasn't completely closed. He turned around with a look of a deer caught in headlights, with his hands behind his back and told me in a very quick and scared voice to go away, that he'd be out in a minute. It was then that I realized he was taking drugs. At first, I didn't want to believe it and I doubted my own eyes, but my fears were confirmed the next day when I went into the bathroom to brush my teeth and I heard something crunch under my feet under the bathroom carpet. I lifted the rug to see what I had broken and it was the plastic cap to a syringe.
He'd already left for work that day and when I got to work I called him and told him to meet me at a local park after work. He asked why and I told him just to wait until then. When we got there, we walked along the banks of the beautiful lake and sat on a concrete wall. I sat facing the sunset and told him what I had found and to tell me the truth because I knew I was right. He confessed everything to me, begged me not to leave him and promised to go into a rehab facility.
Before we were married, I told him that if he ever started actively drinking again or using drugs I would divorce him.
He was so afraid that I would divorce him after the confrontation. He went into a month-long rehab, appeared to do really well, made lots of promises, and stayed sober (or so he said) for another month or two. He joked about how everyone else in the rehab was talking about where they buy their drugs and how they were going to keep on using after they got out, but HE talked about staying drug free. Apparently, he remembered everything everyone had said about where they bought their drugs because he began buying the shit again. He was shooting a nice mixture of heroin and cocaine into his veins.
In the meantime, I had decided that I needed to move to an apartment that was closer to where I worked and we were planning on doing all of this together because he said he was clean. I ended up doing most of the work for the move and shortly after we moved in, he came home high as a kite and trying to pretend that he was normal. I told him to leave and that we were separated as of that moment.
I had to wait a year to get a non-contested divorce in the state where I lived, but as soon as that year was up, I divorced him. He continued to call me, drive by the apartment, begged me to let him come back, but I had finally decided not to take his shit anymore.
Of course, hindsight brings clarity and I later realized that there were so many clues pointing to his drug use. In addition to his full-time job, he had a part-time weekend job as a phlebotomist (the one who comes around to take the patient's blood) in the local hospital which made his acquisition of clean needles remarkably easy. He wore long-sleeved t-shirts in the summer and avoided being around me without a shirt on. I later found out that he had been borrowing hundreds of dollars from each of his relatives and even a friend of mine...telling them all a million different reasons why he needed it. I can't forgive him for lying to my friend from whom he borrowed over a thousand dollars and never paid back.
Now of course, I was not the perfect wife by any means. I never stood up for myself. I argued with him constantly because of all of this. Our sex-life became non-existent for which I took total responsibility. However, now I realize that he was just as responsible for that as I was. I worked a lot and wasn't home at times that he probably needed to talk with me. But I know that it was not my fault that the marriage didn't work out. It was a marriage that never should have happened in the first place. I'm glad that we never had children together because I would have been forced to maintain contact with him for the rest of my life. I don't see his daughter anymore because even after we divorced, he tried to use her as an excuse to see me. I miss her and think of her often, but it was best for all of us that I didn't have contact with her anymore.
I chalk up the whole experience to bad judgment on my part and swore I'd never get married again (hahahaha). I learned a lot about myself because of everything and I've since let go of most of my pain and anger towards him.
Even though my ex-husband loved me very much, he was in no way able to have a good, trusting relationship with anyone. He was a pathological liar and even lied about things he didn't have to lie about. He never had enough money and I could never figure out why until close to the end of our marriage. Although I made more money than he did, his salary wasn't much lower than mine at the time.
He spent hundreds of dollars on lottery tickets and made sure that he threw away the non-winning ones somewhere away from our apartment. He is an alcoholic, but had been in recovery for almost 10 years when I met him. He went to AA meetings several times a week, drank coffee by the gallon and smoked enough cigarettes to make the cigarette manufacturers quite comfortable.
He also had a daughter from a previous relationship who came to stay with us every other weekend. She and I became quite close and we adored each other. He took advantage of my relationship with her to avoid his responsibilities as a father. Even though he loved her with all of his heart, he knew that I would play with her, take her places, feed her and generally be there for her if he decided he couldn't be bothered. He would certainly deny that if questioned about it, but it is the truth.
Our marriage was never strong and even though we talked and laughed a lot, his compulsion to lie (and my gullibility) were the broken basis on which we began married life. After about a year or so, his actions became even more extreme. He seemed to be losing money as if he had holes in his wallet and pockets. He eventually stopped contributing to paying bills altogether and all of our finances became my burden. I tried to talk to him about it, but he always had an excuse and even told me that he decided to give extra child support to his daughter's mother. I believed him because he was very good at making sure that he paid child support.
Then on the weekends he would become lethargic and just want to lay on the sofa all day which was unusual for him. He always had an excuse, but they were coming faster and greater in quantity. One evening, he was in the bathroom for what seemed an unusually long time and I got up to knock on the door to see if he was alright. When I knocked, the door swung open because it wasn't completely closed. He turned around with a look of a deer caught in headlights, with his hands behind his back and told me in a very quick and scared voice to go away, that he'd be out in a minute. It was then that I realized he was taking drugs. At first, I didn't want to believe it and I doubted my own eyes, but my fears were confirmed the next day when I went into the bathroom to brush my teeth and I heard something crunch under my feet under the bathroom carpet. I lifted the rug to see what I had broken and it was the plastic cap to a syringe.
He'd already left for work that day and when I got to work I called him and told him to meet me at a local park after work. He asked why and I told him just to wait until then. When we got there, we walked along the banks of the beautiful lake and sat on a concrete wall. I sat facing the sunset and told him what I had found and to tell me the truth because I knew I was right. He confessed everything to me, begged me not to leave him and promised to go into a rehab facility.
Before we were married, I told him that if he ever started actively drinking again or using drugs I would divorce him.
He was so afraid that I would divorce him after the confrontation. He went into a month-long rehab, appeared to do really well, made lots of promises, and stayed sober (or so he said) for another month or two. He joked about how everyone else in the rehab was talking about where they buy their drugs and how they were going to keep on using after they got out, but HE talked about staying drug free. Apparently, he remembered everything everyone had said about where they bought their drugs because he began buying the shit again. He was shooting a nice mixture of heroin and cocaine into his veins.
In the meantime, I had decided that I needed to move to an apartment that was closer to where I worked and we were planning on doing all of this together because he said he was clean. I ended up doing most of the work for the move and shortly after we moved in, he came home high as a kite and trying to pretend that he was normal. I told him to leave and that we were separated as of that moment.
I had to wait a year to get a non-contested divorce in the state where I lived, but as soon as that year was up, I divorced him. He continued to call me, drive by the apartment, begged me to let him come back, but I had finally decided not to take his shit anymore.
Of course, hindsight brings clarity and I later realized that there were so many clues pointing to his drug use. In addition to his full-time job, he had a part-time weekend job as a phlebotomist (the one who comes around to take the patient's blood) in the local hospital which made his acquisition of clean needles remarkably easy. He wore long-sleeved t-shirts in the summer and avoided being around me without a shirt on. I later found out that he had been borrowing hundreds of dollars from each of his relatives and even a friend of mine...telling them all a million different reasons why he needed it. I can't forgive him for lying to my friend from whom he borrowed over a thousand dollars and never paid back.
Now of course, I was not the perfect wife by any means. I never stood up for myself. I argued with him constantly because of all of this. Our sex-life became non-existent for which I took total responsibility. However, now I realize that he was just as responsible for that as I was. I worked a lot and wasn't home at times that he probably needed to talk with me. But I know that it was not my fault that the marriage didn't work out. It was a marriage that never should have happened in the first place. I'm glad that we never had children together because I would have been forced to maintain contact with him for the rest of my life. I don't see his daughter anymore because even after we divorced, he tried to use her as an excuse to see me. I miss her and think of her often, but it was best for all of us that I didn't have contact with her anymore.
I chalk up the whole experience to bad judgment on my part and swore I'd never get married again (hahahaha). I learned a lot about myself because of everything and I've since let go of most of my pain and anger towards him.