It's been awhile...but here we go again...
On February 7, my ex husband showed up on my doorstep. He was highly intoxicated, (relapsing after 7 months of sobriety) saying he had just come from a doctor's appointment. He had found out that it was a possibility that he could have pancreatic cancer from his years of super hard drinking. He was an absolute basketcase saying that any time he went to doctor's appointments, he was asked to remove his clothes and once he did, he was treated differently. I guess that's what happens when you have a swastika on your chest, (his puertorican girlfriend paid for) in a world with Indian and black doctors. I called my ex boyfriend and asked him if he could cover up my ex husband's tattoo immediately so that he could go to his next doctor's appointment without being ashamed. My ex boyfriend covered it that night. The next day my ex husband was too drunk to go to work so he stayed at my house.
To make a very long story short, within 5 weeks he ended up in 4 different hospitals. Each time his BAC was a .4%. On one occasion he overdosed on Ativan in my driveway and our son called 911. On another occasion he was beaten by police so badly that his nose was broken. On another occasion he stomped a mexican drug lord's teeth out. I drove him to the hospital each time, and each time his ex girlfriend, (whom he has a 6 month old with) picked him up and would drop him off at hotels with random prescriptions and crack. He always ended up finding a way back to my house. I refused to buy him alcohol but I have no problem helping someone who is begging for help.
He finally received the help he needed and began living a normal life. Or so I thought.
Last night at Wal-Mart he threw a fit because I said he shouldn't buy a $500 t.v. when we have bills/rent to pay. He left me in the store when I wasn't aware and then had me paged over the intercom to come to the car. Thank God I had the car keys or I'm sure he would've left me there. He was screaming every profanity imaginable in the parking lot and telling me that I couldn't tell him what he can and can't buy. I just got in the car. I said nothing the entire way home.
It's not that I didn't care, it's that I care too much. I don't want to hurt people I love. I think I've done that enough in my life. And I think my ex husband is someone I genuinely love so I'd rather say nothing than something awful. I have also developed the ability to really let go. And if someone thinks terrible things about you, or treats you poorly, then that's just fine. I'm not going to change their behavior with my words. I took him in and went through $6K. I am the reason he still has a car, a lawyer, car insurance, a phone, and his life. As much as I could beat myself up about the money since I am now unable to pay my rent this month, it's not worth it. It's just money. I helped him without motive. Things were blossoming between us over the last few months. We became friends that we had never been before. Probably, the best of friends.
Today, I woke up and he was gone. He didn't take his belongings with him, (which I've already packed) and he didn't say goodbye to his kids. He isn't allowed to drive legally but that's not stopping him. I turned his phone off after I put the pieces together and realized he got back with his ex girlfriend. Our son found out he was gone and melted on the floor. I can't get the look on his face out of my head. I had to leave the room because I was so upset by his reaction and wasn't able to comfort him. It brought everything back. It's like I'm reliving the feelings I felt the months leading up to my divorce all over again.
My kids will never have their dad in their life constantly, but maybe there's a chance for Ella.
