Daddy is drunk. Actually, at this point he’s passed out on the couch. Pickle tried to wake him awhile ago and got really, really upset when he couldn’t. He asked me what was wrong with him. All I could think to say was that Daddy was sick. Pickle thought he was dead until I kicked him in the ass and he mumbled.
I’d really thought about having Pickle call Daddy’s Mommy so she could hear all of this for herself. She seems to no believe that things are as bad or repetitive as I “make them out to be”. She just says that if it’s that bad or I don’t feel safe that I should leave. OH! Why didn’t I think of that?
She actually recorded herself talking to us on a tape recorder and dramatically gave us the tape while continuing not to speak to us sometime last month,. It really pissed me off but I regressed because of my stupid, blood pressure and a realization my mother helped me arrive at. It’s really not her fault because she doesn’t know the whole story.
In fact, I wonder if any of us really do or if my
husband has manipulated us all. He really could make you believe that the sky was green and the grass was blue. Or maybe it’s just us. Like, his Mom and I. Maybe we just do it to ourselves, seeing the potential to keep our hearts safe and casting aside the tough reality. It really is hard to accept the wrong in somebody you really love and even tougher to call them out on it. But if you don’t and they truly self destruct, wouldn’t that be harder?
What I do know is that I am going to have to tough up for the kids sake and make some really tough decision. I am so hurt by him.
The night before my amnio, which could’ve been the night before our baby was born, his Mom took Pickle for the night so we could have some alone time and he got wasted.
Did I ever matter to him?
We (Pickle, baby and I) need him. We love him. Don’t we deserve better? Are we not worth the effort?
And again, what bothers me is not that I wrote that, but that these boys could think that one day. That’s heartbreaking.
I have to do better as a Mommy.