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Wasted
I watched this rerun episode of The Nature Of Things about addiction:
http://www.cbc.ca/natureofthings/m/episodes/wasted
I found it very informative but it has left me feeling quite melancholy. I feel like I’m broken and always have been broken… that I was predetermined to be this way. I have wrecked so many things and because of my actions in the past, I will continue to wreck things… setting events in
motion that cannot be undone.
When The Marriage Has Given Up On You
The majority of people who read this blog don’t have the historical knowledge of my life and, particularly, my marriage. So, for the benefit of the majority of you, I’ll give you a bit of a crash course and try to not make this post too heady.
We’ve been together for 17 years and married for 8 years of that. We have three kids, two of whom are 18+ and the youngest is in high school.
(Right about now, you are maybe doing some math to figure out how old I am… I’ll help you out, we both started families when we were young.)
She’s a person who believes firmly that if a little of something is good then more is always better. This is a common theme that I’ve observed over time and, because of this tendency, she often steamrolls into (and through) situations making decisions contrary to what most people would regard as common sense. In doing this, she has gotten herself into hot water over and over again. Consequences of these poor decisions range from significant financial setbacks for the family to questionable parenting episodes to her personal safety being in serious jeopardy.
In the vast majority of these situations, I’ve stepped in to pluck her from the fire because… well, that’s just what you do for your spouse and your family. Often, this comes at your own personal cost and is done thanklessly. I know this just as well as anyone who has found themselves in this role.
Now, fast forward to present day.
You don’t have to scroll back very far in this blog to see that I’ve had struggles with alcohol. Drinking became a coping mechanism to compensate for my inability to cope with stress and loneliness. My relationship with the bottle finally culminated into me having a grand mal seizure while at work and being taken to the hospital.
It was at this time, while laying on a hospital bed and freshly swearing off booze, that my wife told me if I were to start drinking again… she was going to leave me.
Going back a few posts in this blog, you’ll note that I dabbled with alcohol again. I’m the type of guy that lives by the adage ‘never say never’ so I generally don’t close a door on any possibility. I felt like I needed to convince myself that, indeed, I had to close the door on my drinking past and walk away.
This didn’t go by unnoticed, of course. My wife had no clue since we have been working opposite schedules for years now and rarely see each other. However, my youngest teenage son did notice and finally said something to her a few weeks ago. The very next day, she confronted me and said that she was leaving; stating that I’d had started drinking again that she couldn’t live with it anymore.
Given the fact that we rarely see each other and that she admitted that she hadn’t even noticed, this statement felt disingenuous and the situation was being used as an excuse or, worse, an opportunity.
Throughout this past ten months, I’ve felt angry and bitter toward my immediate family that there has been little to no support for me staying sober. I also feel that there has been little to no effort made by them to understand or appreciate how hard this is. So, this past ten months has felt like a gigantic slap in the face that highlights how unappreciated I’ve been for the previous 16+ years of bailing this family, and particularly my wife, out of trouble over and over again.
Now, my natural tendency is to try to inject humour wherever I can and especially when it’s a painful subject for me. So, when I was reflecting on it at the end of a work day immediately following that weekend confrontation, I related this entire scene to an episode of The Simpsons. The episode in question is titled ‘$pringfield (or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Legalized Gambling)’ where Mr. Burns opens a casino in Springfield and Marge ends up developing a gambling addiction.
Homer: You know, Marge, for the first time in our marriage I can finally look down my nose at you.You have a gambling problem!
Marge: That’s true. Will you forgive me?
Homer: Oh, sure! Remember when I got caught stealing all those watches from Sears?
Marge: [ Groans ]
Homer: Well, that’s nothing, because you have a gambling problem! And remember when I let that escaped lunatic in the house ’cause he was dressed like Santa Claus?
Marge: [ Groans ]
Homer: Well, you have a gambling problem!
The writers pretty much hit the nail on the head with this episode. I’m feeling a lot like Marge here. And my wife has been Homer for our entire marriage and I’ve never noticed it.
Maybe this is why she hates The Simpsons.
No Safety Anywhere
Last night, my friends and next door neighbours were victims of a violent home invasion last night. They are your average married couple with four young children and were enjoying a quiet night at home. Mr A was outside having a cigar and a vehicle drove up onto their back parking pad and started to try and make their way into the yard. He tried to prevent them from entering which is where I’d assume he got the butt of a gun to the face. They kicked the back door of the house in, dragged Mr A inside and then proceeded to beat the shit out of him in front of Mrs A who was holding their baby.
One of the most unfortunate parts of this is that this was a total case of mistaken identity. They were looking for drugs, thinking the A’s house was a drug house. What the police told us was that this may have been a gang type drug attack. Rather than go and buy their drugs to sell, sometimes these jackasses will raid another known drug house and steal the drugs. Obviously, these guys were dumber than shit and took a wrong turn somewhere thinking that this house was a drug house.
Luckily (or unluckily in a way) their two year old daughter walked down the stairs to the living room where the A’s were being assaulted and it was then that these fucking douchebags finally realize they have the wrong house. So they bail out of the house, jump in their vehicle and screw off. If she hadn’t come down, who knows what would have happened. The A’s could be dead right now.
Mr A was a bloody mess and taken away by ambulance to the hospital. Mrs A had dropped their four children off with me and my two sons to keep them occupied and cared. It’s honestly been years since I’ve held a baby. But in the meantime, family members were showing up to our house and the non-stop parade of police officers through my house asking questions of Mrs A about the events of the evening. My boys were a big help though.
The grandparents showed up and took the four kids home with them at 2:00 am so I had a chance to go and look for their dog who was scared out of the house when these thugs kicked the door in. I was out walking all of the paths and popular dog spots that I know of in our neighbourhood but didn’t have any luck. I was out for over an hour and lost my shoes in some mud which forced me to walk home with mud covered bare feet on rock covered road for about 5 blocks. I felt like a hobbit but I got off lucky in comparison. Anyway, as of now, she still remains missing.
I made my way home to shut the back door of their house, the forensic team was done and the police needed to make sure the house was secure before leaving the scene. I grabbed my drill and toolbox and screwed a 2×4 over the door and busted up door frame to close the door solidly. When I stepped downstairs into the living room, I was stunned. The floor in their living room was smeared with his blood all over. Mr A lost a lot of blood and it was everywhere; smeared over a big area, with pools of blood here and there, blood spatters on the wall, on the sofa, all over the kid’s toys.
Mr A is afraid to see his kids and scare them with his condition. He took over 100 stitches to his head and face to close up the wounds and I’m sure he had a lot of scratches and extensive bruising. I haven’t seen him yet either. But the kids are worried about him so I’m sure they will be together very soon and start to heal as a family. Our household will do everything we can to support them too.
Dude. That ain’t right.
Holy crap.
I’m realizing that I haven’t updated the Official NJLE™ website in over SIX MONTHS. Wow, that’s my epic failure. It’s kind of bizarre how much things can change in such a relatively short (or relatively long, depending on your perspective) period of time.
The NJLE has always been kind of sliding by; on the brink of both wild success and brutal failure. However, in the past couple of months… it’s become glaringly obvious that belts are going to have to be tightened and things are going to have to change up in this bitch. See, everything in this place… surrounding us, in Canada? So much of it is affected by the price of oil. The whole world is affected. But here’s the trend:
In the past year, the price of oil has dropped off to a staggeringly low price that affects the entire world.
Anyway, the main source of income for the NJLE is related to the price of oil. “On the outside” your highness is an engineering desk jockey for a company servicing the oil and gas sector. With this downturn, the NJLE GDP is taking a forced 10% hack-and-slash and a deep, deep round of layoffs that’s going on at my place of employ as a reaction to the global economy.
So, I have to look at my options. I think I’m relatively ok for the next month or two from a layoff perspective…. maybe. After that? All bets are off. I’m looking at possible opportunities elsewhere however, given that layoffs are rampant in my industry right now, I think it’s unlikely that I’ll find something after I get punted. So… I’ll have my five figure layoff payout. Low five figures, let’s be clear. Very low.
And then? If I don’t find another job? It’s EI for yours truly… and that’s something that I know very little about at this point. It’s terrifying to me to not have a job. To not be able to provide.
Terrifying.
Anyway, the future is not known to me. Maybe shit will turn itself out just fine. Maybe not. I am not Nostradamus of some wizened prognosticator. I’m clinging on to this moment, taking life day to day. Because that’s all I can do right now.