And this is the way it is going to be, for a very very long time. I was doing well. Accepting of my new and hopefully temporary role of being the caregiver to my husband. I had honestly, pre surgery, been doing well with our roles reversed for a change. I enjoyed kicking back and not having to worry about every meal of the day, or cleaning up every dish, or doing any laundry. Since Blue Eyes hasn’t traveled overnight by himself since d-day, I have not had long stretches of time where everything family, everything relationship, and everything business, falls on my shoulders. I liked this new way of our marriage. I wished it had happened a long time ago… not d-day and what transpired, but the sharing of more of the household responsibilities. To put it another way, I wish Blue Eyes had given a shit before. I wish he hadn’t spent most of his “free” moments thinking about all the conjured stressors and resentments in his life, which led to thoughts of his next hookup. I wish he had thought more about me and my needs and the needs of our relationship and our family. Maybe I should change the name of my blog to stop wishing for things that will never come true.
After days of doling out medications, bringing him cold drinks, hot drinks, meals, ice packs, more medication, propping pillows, helping with showers, trying to make sure he didn’t take a tumble, or that he had the television remote handy, or his books, I was sort of in a groove. It wasn’t all fun and with cooking and cleaning up three meals a day, I was beginning to enter exhaustion stage, and my hands are dry and chafed, my back is achy from all the bending over the dishwasher, but it wasn’t all bad either. My sleep was a bit disjointed as Blue Eyes needs to sleep in a position that is not only comfortable for him, but with his head a bit elevated. Sleeping on his sides was difficult and when he sleeps on his back, he snores. Add in medication, and he snores a lot. The thing is though, we could sleep in, and even nap if we want, because we had no where to be and other than medication schedules, we had nothing to do really. Maybe that was part of the problem. Maybe I was going stir crazy.
We were able to sit and relax in our cozy warm bed and watch Christmas movies together. I made some really tasty meals, which I have sort of missed over the past two years… cooking and cleaning every day went by the wayside for much of that time. We enjoyed some really quiet time with the dogs off playing at the ranch and the boys off doing their thing. There was pure relaxed peace and quiet… when I wasn’t jumping up to take on and off the ridiculously tight compression socks he has to wear for six weeks to prevent blood clotting, or to pick up something he had dropped on the floor. It started to feel like I was babysitting a toddler who was purposely throwing things on the floor for attention, or because it is fun. For the first few days, the only smiles I received from Blue Eyes were in a drug-induced haze. As he started weaning off the meds, there were a lot less smiles, and a lot more quick glances of resentment. I know they are not directed at me, I did not cause him this pain, but I am the only one around to see them.
I think the straw that broke the camel’s back was when his 12 step buddy texted him, and Blue Eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. I know he hates being cooped up. I know he misses his meetings and his new friends. I know it is fun to get a nice, thoughtful text from a guy friend saying he hopes you are feeling better and he loves you. That is a very cool thing. It is not really fair that it pissed me off. I realize this. But it did. Not the friend texting him part, but Blue Eyes’ reaction… as if that guy is the only person that really cares about him. I tried to just let it go, but Blue Eyes kept going back to his phone. It’s been a while since the phone was a trigger to me. That is a good thing. I wish I was bullet proof. I wish I was perfect. I wish none of this mattered to me anymore. I wish I could wave a magic wand, and POOF, I was healed forever. I wish, I wish, I wish.
And then things kind of snowballed for me. When I feel like I am being ignored or taken for granted, my brain often takes me back to times that are vivid in my memory. They meant little to me then, but mean a lot to me now. It is part and parcel to Blue Eyes acting out all those years, but it leaves me with a used and worthless feeling that when I am not doing well, is difficult to shake. This particular episode took me to one of his out of town trips. He was leaving for a long business trip to Japan. He was having a particularly disorganized morning. Blue Eyes acting crazy before out of town trips was not unusual, and actually, it was a “thing.” My brother and I talked about it often. How Blue Eyes seemed to “crave” out of town travel, like he was trying to escape, almost like he “needed” it. He would schedule, schedule, schedule. Sometimes up to 4-5 meetings per day as I have mentioned before. Many of the trips were taken with me or the sales guys. Some were orchestrated to feed his addiction. Often, when it came time to actually pack and leave for the trip, he was out of control. He was disrespectful to the employees and completely ungrounded with me and the boys. I always thought, and said, why does he plan these trips when they seem to cause him so much stress. They didn’t all seem necessary to the success of our company. I figured being hyper was his trying to get himself pumped up for the level of energy it would take to meet with and present to that many clients and potential clients. That to conduct business and be as successful as he was/is it takes a toll on a person. Especially a person like Blue Eyes. He thrives on it, but it sucks the life out of him. I still think that was PART of the story.
The other part, no one knew that Blue Eyes in fact was obsessively texting, calling, and emailing a blackmailing whore during this time. No one knew Blue Eyes was clandestinely meeting up with a woman at the airport and spending the entire trip sleeping with her in his bed and having sex with her as often as it worked into his crazy schedule and her crazy crazy crazy manipulative ways. It’s all fucking crazy. When I am not doing well, the crazy threatens to eat me alive. So, on that day way back when, I cannot remember the year, I think it was their first trip together, Spring 2008, and maybe that was why he was so incredibly ungrounded, I drove him to the airport. As we were driving up to the departures area, Blue Eyes was frantically going through his pockets, his carry on bag, his computer bag. He had forgotten his passport. He was beside himself frantic. I chuckled and said, “maybe you won’t be leaving today after all.” His look was pure daggers. Geez, not the end of the world. I told him I probably had time to run back home and get it if he wanted. He said, “yes, yes, I’ll go check in.” So, I took off for home on this beautifully sunny morning hoping in the back of my mind that I couldn’t find the passport. He said he thought maybe it was in his nightstand drawer. We live about 20-25 minutes from the airport on the best of days, so round trip 40-50 minutes. Even with time running into the house, I made it back in 45 minutes. He was waiting at the curb, ran over, grabbed the passport and as he ran back into the airport he yelled, “thanks, you’re a lifesaver.” I remember this like it was yesterday. I can picture him running into the airport. At the time I was sad I had found the passport, but Blue Eyes had been traveling for years, it was just another trip. What I didn’t know, remember me, the ignorant fool, was it was not just another trip. Thinking about how I rushed around for him so that he would not miss a trip out of town where he was obsessively lying to me and betraying me, is a painful lonely feeling, like no other.
After everything I had been doing, when I saw that look of pure happiness, joy, and gratitude on Blue Eyes’ face after a simple text from his 12 step buddy, my heart plunged to that horrible place. The passport incident flashed in my mind. Just me, again, feeling like a fucking tool. I had to cry it out. I hate when that happens. So does Blue Eyes. At one point he uttered the words that I have grown accustomed to despise, “what brought these feelings on this time… ” I’m tired, I’ve had a headache for two days, I feel cooped up, like a prisoner in a cell. I carved out an hour to write this post. Even though I feel like a big cry baby, I know some of you understand.
I think I need to get out of the house. Blue Eyes is doing much better. He is off the pain meds, the swelling has gone down, the bruising still looks intense, he is getting around fine by himself, even going up and down our treacherous stairs. We still cannot leave him alone, but the boys are helping as much as they are able. The bandage comes off today. Not looking forward to that. We are planning an early family dinner out at one of our favorite casual restaurants. We only have two more days with our older son. Other than driving, I imagine things will be looking pretty good next week for Blue Eyes. I know there will continue to be days like yesterday for me. How could a person just “get over” this kind of shock and betrayal. She can’t. I give myself permission to lick my wounds. Healing is a journey, not a destination. That’s what I keep telling myself.