I wrote the post below 5 months ago.
Please read and know that what follows is the reason you are (re)reading.
(Originally written October 2012)
A little history:
When I was 6 months old my mom (who was very very VERY young when she had me) started dating a guy who we will call Dill Weed. (And yes, we do actually call him that) Dill Weed was a volatile human being with a short and easily fueled temper. My mom and Dill Weed dated for several years and he asked her to marry him THRICE. (that's three times) The first time she called it off. The second time my grandparents called it off. And the third time, even though marriage counselors, pastors and family alike all warned her against marrying this deeply dysfunctional human being she married him. I was 6.
Now, as an adult, I realize the origin of the deep roots of that resentment and bitterness I feel. My most fond memories of him ((note extreme sarcasm))are when I was three and sitting in my car seat in my mom's red Toyota pickup. We roll to a stop at a stop sign and to my 3 year old terror there Dill Weed is in his silver truck next to us yelling profanities at my mom, threatening her, screaming at her and her screaming right back. My slightly distorted memory is of a monster faced Dill Weed.
Yet another is when my mom and he were in the middle of a particularly heated and verbally abusive fight and he picked up the solid oak chair from my kiddie table in a visual threat of throwing it at my mom.
And then there were all those nights when the doors would slam and he would leave and then return and the screaming would resume and then the doors would slam and it was a vicious cycle until my mom would have enough, pack us up and we would leave to my grandparents' house. Those were the only times I felt safe, was when we went home (where I had lived the first 6 years of my life) to my grandparents' house.
In 2008 my mom left California to move up to Washington, leaving Dill Weed there. She knew he would never move to Washington and decided to leave him anyway. So, from 2008 forward she lived here with my sister.
In 2009 I divorced my husband and moved in with my mom and the household of 2 became a household of 5. The dynamics were off and it took a long time for my mom to compromise on a lot of things. But then Dill Weed's dad passed away in 2011 and he decided to move up to Washington as well. It was all shits and giggles for a while. And then his true colors began to shine through. His volatile behavior began to crack the facade of the candy coated impersonator he had become. He became withdrawn, snappy, easily angered. He slept a lot. He displayed odd behavior and then we became aware of his habit of prescription drug abuse. We all knew he was on large doses of medication for pain but we didn't know how much he was taking and that not all of it was prescribed to him let alone that he was and had been abusing it to the extent that he did.
One Wednesday Evening 6 months ago:
There was an incident that could only be described as an accidental overdose and then other behavior of deception and theft came to light. My mom sent him packing and told him she was done. He remained in Washington for a week and when he realized my mom was not going to take him back he put himself through a week of detox and moved back to California, all the while keeping in contact with my mom and pleading his case to come back. In time my mom got used to the idea of bringing him back. He argued that he was going to therapy and working through HIS DEEPLY ROOTED ISSUES FROM HIS CHILDHOOD. He plead her forgiveness and told her he was changing. My grandmother who we will call Momo says that this has happened more than two handfuls of times in their almost 3 decades together and she doesn't believe that he has changed or will change as significantly as he claims.
I am not interested in having a relationship with Dill Weed. I don't want to work on it. I don't want him coming back. I am glad to be rid of him. I understand that my mom wants to do the right thing and work on her marriage and I support her. Only her. I do not want to be a part of his return. I do not want to live with him.
I also know it is not all about me.
I know my mom has a right to try to save her marriage. I know that, for her, I should make an effort to be civil and help her make the atmosphere of the house a happy one if and when he returns especially since I have no chance right now of making it on my own the way the economy and the job market is. So, I know it is wrong of me to be so unforgiving and petty when my mom has been so good and giving to me.
But that is how I feel. And of course, not at all toward my mom. Just him.
My gramma (Momo) spoke with him at length yesterday about how he is changing, his therapy, his temper, his recuperation from addiction and whenever she brought up appreciating life or the present, all he could say was that he wanted to come back. A 50 year old man living in the future and the want of what he does not have instead of in the now, appreciating the life he has, the breath he breathes and the things surrounding him that he very well could have completely lost along with his life after the stunt he pulled 6 months ago.
Once a liar, always a liar
Once an abuser, always an abuser
Once a manipulator, always a manipulator
Unless God intervenes and this man does not have God in his life.
(Back to the present)
Now, 5 months later, still in California and after dropping therapy because he couldn't afford it and insurance would no longer pay for it and after getting laid off his highest paying job he is back at getting my mom to bring him back up here to Washington.
"This is the perfect time," he says.
6 days from now.
. . . And I am having a hard time with this emotionally.
I still feel the way I felt.
I am still resentful.
I am still bitter.
I still hate everything he was to me as a child
And I believe that monster will always live inside of him
I still shiver inwardly at the idea of living with him.
I thought I had escaped that more than 7 years ago when I moved up to Washington.
I had no idea when I divorced that he would come and then go and then try to come again.
I don't think he has changed.
How does a person change the entire core of their being in 11 months?
The answer to that one is easy . . .
I am scared for my mom.
He plays games.
It is a constant tug of war for her attention between him and my girls and me and the family.
Yet she allows it.
He takes her on emotional roller coasters, stresses her out, makes her a completely different person.
Yet, she allows it.
I suppose I shouldn't worry so much.
Because she allows it.
I am not so much worried about circumstantial or situational differences with him here in the house.
I am worried about the ambiance.
Before it was like a heavy black rain cloud presided directly above our house.
You could feel the tangible stress, you could cut the tension with a knife and that is when my binge eating was worst.
Because of the angst and stress he brought.
When he left, the cloud physically lifted and everything felt lighter. Better.
Everyone (including my mom) said so
And yet, he isn't even here and I am already exhibiting symptoms of stress/anxiety about him being here
My patience and tolerance of my children has been cut into quarters.
(I'm sorry my babies)
A mess of crumbs on the floor is somehow so detrimental you would think someone died there.
THIS IS TOO EFFING HARD FOR ME.
The return of the black cloud is too much
The return of the strife and the angst and the stress and the confusion and everything he brings is too much
Will that be different now?
Will I have to fight resurfacing demons?
OF COURSE, I WILL.
HE IS MY DEMON!
I am not looking forward to this.
I do not support him coming back.
I do not want him back.
But she is allowing it.
So, I have to endure it.
. . . . . . . . .
I just want to lay down and cry. And cry. And cry.
I am FEEL SO depressed.
And I'm going to stop now because I AM going to go lay down.
And cry and then sleep
Maybe I can sleep this off
Maybe I will be more optimistic when I wake up