Tuesday, November 14, 2006

On Shards of Glass

My life is turning into a nightmarish world sprinkled with bits of peaceful interludes the likes of which you’d never want to wake from. We live day to day knowing that at any time and for any given reason our world could end up topsy turvy and there’s nothing we could do to stop it. My life is a train wreck. I pick up the pieces and put it back together everyday until it wrecks again, until I derail and come off again. Does this make any sense?

My anniversary is in 1 week and 5 days. We’re in heaven. Done so much, gone so far, accomplished the impossible both in our love and in our lives. How then is it possible that I smashed my husbands ribs last night with my alarm clock. Did I mean to do it? Yes, most definitely. Would I ever want to do it? No, never in a million years would I want to hurt my husband. My love for him is endless as the sky, bright as the moon, ethereal…

There were events throughout the entire day that had been leading up to this. I’d hung up on him several times throughout the day in the hopes that I would regain control, that he would come to his senses, apologize and we’d move on. We’ve been really good at that lately. He hardly even complains about the housework at all anymore. Just does what he’s told. We’re ona routine everyday. We try hard, meaning I try hard, not to deviate from it too much and were always okay. I give him warning in advance what his chores will be that evening and he knows to get it done before dinner or he’ll be up during his favorite show finishing up while I study. We’ve been in such a great place working like a real couple at home and at work.

My mother and my sister finally split up (again), but we all think that this time my sister will actually keep to it. I think that at this point my mother sees no use in getting her own apartment since my sister will cave in eventually when she sees how desperately she needs mother. Instead of looking for a place in the entire 3 months she had to look she let the time run out, my sister found a place and made it very clear that she would not be living with them anymore. She and her husband want a life together, alone. They want to be a real family once and for all and they can’t do that with her there. she causes problems no matter where she goes whether she means to or not. It’s inevitable you see because she’s an alcoholic and we resent her for it and for many other things. My sister and her husband have never lived together for longer than a year ot two at a time. I mean he’s always there, simply going by what she says, but my mother is there day and night and he couldn’t take it. Really who can blame him?

Mother lies through her three teeth all day, everyday for any reason. Big or small if she can spin it she will. Thing is she actually does think we’re idiots. If she could keep her lies straight that would be one thing, but she can’t and so here we are; frustrated and angry about her claims at having looked for a place and either not being able to find one or it not being ready yet. The day she was ready to move into my house she said the room she was going to stay it wasn’t ready after all, a week later she said she wasn’t ready to move out, a week after that she said, “Ni fui para con mi amiga. No tengo paraque andar viendo caras que no conosco…Para que verdad?” and I asid, “You’re right mom, why move into a house of a friend of a friend that you don’t even know. Makes perfect sense.” Yeah…perfect sense. The first time she asked if she could move in I said that I would need to discuss it with Rigid. She felt the need to let me know that it would not be necessary as the deal was between she and I and had absolutely nothing to do with it. I called her an idiot and told I if it was okay with him that it was okay with me and that I would call her back.

Of course it wasn’t okay with him, but that’s not the fucking point. Who the hell do you think you are to tell me what’s okay and what’s not okay to discuss with my husband? She had asked even before then many times in may different ways as well. One of my favorites was, “Michelle, do you need money? I can pay you $300 a month. If you need money I have it okay?”

“No, thanks mom. I don’t need money. Rigid and I are working on our marriage and sometimes we’re stuggling really hard so we need to be alone right now okay? We don’t need ANYONE in the house right now okay? We don’t need any money either okay? On top of the fact that they just raised my rent AGAIN and you’re not even covering the parking with that.” I said exasperatedly.

“Mmmm, okay pues…si. Yo entiendo es major asi. Pues, no te preocupes por me. Yo me encuentro un cartito en cualquier lado. Oh hasta en un hotel me quedo. No importa, tengo dinero.” Which means, Don’t worry about me (hear the violins in the background?) I’ll be fine because I can rent a room anywhere or even stay at a (dun dun duuuuun) hotel.” Oh NO, my mother at a dreaded hotel??? The horror, the agony.

I said, “That sounds great mom, you could get room service at a hotel. You’d never have to clean.” And left it at that.

In the end when all was said and done, when the date of her expulsion loomed closer and closer, when my sister wasn’t caving in, she bit the bullet and rang, “Michelle? Mmmm, nomas te queria preguntar si me podia quedar contigo for unos cuantos dias? Es que el cuarto de la senora no esta listo toda via y yo ya estoy para salir de aqui”

Ever one to stick to my mother fucking guns I said, “Well, mom you know I told you that it’s not a good time right now and that Rigid and I need to be alone, but I’ll ask him and I’ll give you a call back okay?”

“Okay, pero si no, no okay? Esta bien, yo entiendo. Mejor que lo discuten y luego me hablas alrato. Yo me puedo quedar en cualquier lado. No te preocupes okay? Habla con el ye me hablas alrato.”, she said. And so it was that for once in her life or mine as an adult she actually had some measure of humility and respect. Yes, I should discuss it with my husband and if it’s not okay she understands. I was happy, but I knew what I’d get with Rigid next. Didn’t matter though because when it came down to it we both agreed that for a limited amount of time it would be fine.

Though both my sister and I are very well aware of what that limited amount of time means. A short while to my mother could mean 6 months, a year… two? Who knows, maybe she actually means it this time. The time came for her to move it and we worked like animals trying to clear out Spare Oom. Spare Oom is a forbidden place for me. It was to be my nursery and the only thing I ever wanted to fill Spare Oom with was my baby and it’s love for me. Instead Spare Oom was filled with junk and paperwork. I could barely get the door open. Don’t get me wrong, we’d clean it here and there, but eventually I’d just give up or things would go tits up and it would be a wreck again and I just couldn’t bring myself to clean it. I just couldn’t spend much time in there. But I did it for my mother and now it’s ready. Of course it’s been 3 weeks now and she still hasn’t moved it. Rigid and I have gone up and down this fucking rollercoaster my mother put us on and we’re both sick to death of it. One day she’s coming, the next day she’s not, back and forth for 3 weeks now. It finally looks like she’s coming, in fact yesterday she tried to move some of her things into the garage, but I didn’t know she was going to be there. It was a simple miscommunication… you know the kinds of miscommunications you have with drunk people.

To her credit she wasn’t actually drunk at the time, but you know, when is a drunk ever actually sober? So I spent a lot of time letting Rigid know that she’d be coming and we spent a lot of time trying not to argue about this and that and the other that probably didn’t even have anything to do with my mother. By the end of my work day Rigid and I got into another argument. Probably about where to go on our Anniversary. I told him I didn’t want to speak to him until I was ready and he left me alone. I got another call a short while later and it wasn’t him, it was my friend Misery. We chatted as we usually do for hours on end. I ended up not going on any of the errands I was intending on going on as #1 I thought the better of it considering we haven’t much money in the account and #2 I was chatting with my friend Misery. Rigid got home and asked if I did what I said I would do. When I nodded my head no he stormed out (I’m on the phone of course.) and peeled out of the driveway. He was itching for a fight. Never skipping a beat I put my friend on hold and recalled the monkeyman driving the big heavy car. When he came back, mind you I’m still chatting on the phone, he wanted an explanation then and there. I knew he was just spoiling for a good argument but I wouldn’t give in. I WAS CHATTING DAMN IT! So I told him to be on his way and leave me alone until I was ready to talk to him because it wasn’t a good time. Not because I was talking, but because I’d rip his head off.

He got the idea I think. I started dinner and eventually got off the phone. As SOON as I got off he came over and said, “Okay then, tell me why I couldn’t get the cat’s dewormer and the papertowels we need for the house when he was $15 dollars in the account?”

“Because, I thought we had $10 dollars in the account and even $15 dollars wouldn’t cut it considering we have 3 cats, I need more than just paper towels and we haven’t been reimbursed the $175 in overdraft charges from your work! I don’t think we need to risk overdrafting the account right now do you?” and then something funny happened. I can’t remember what it was but trust me it was funny and we were okay. I cooked a fantastic dinner, pork ribs, rice and vegetables. Okay so the rice and vegetables were shitty, but the ribs were GOOD. I studied a bit and then we watched a show together. After that was done we started picking up the house. Usually we do his sandwiches and he does the dishes, but this time his sandwhiches were already done. He did the dishes and I did the floors. Then I fucked up. I told him too late in the day that my mom would be coming around midnight to stay, so I made her bed and asked him to help me. Well, he did the dishes, was going to take a shower, have sex and go to sleep. Kind of in that order, but now he had to help me make the bed, take a shower, have sex and go to sleep. How could I expect so much from him? He helped me make the bed, though he grumbled about it. I was tired and I’d pretty much had enough grumbling for one day, what makes him think I want to have sex with him now after all the things he’d done all day long and then he’s mumbling about this and that and the other over and over again and THEN I REALLY fucked up.

“Ooooh nooo hooha! I forgot, my mom’s not coming tonight she’s coming tomorrow morning!!!.”, I saw the look on his face and prepared myself for what was coming. “I’m really sorry I forgot to tell you, but I forgot myself. Turns out the stupid guy kept putting off picking up the key from my mom and now he’s coming tomorrow after all, so she figured she’d stay rather than come all the way over here at midnight, barely wake up to get there and sit in an empty house all day waiting for him to pick up the key, inspect the house and asses how much of a deposit to give them back.” I didn’t think I could possibly fit anymore in one breath and I may have just about over done it I thought. If you could see the look on his face you would go to your grave…you know cause you’d have died with laughter. Some more mumbles and grumbles from Rigid.

“Anyway, I yelled out from the kitchen, if you could just put the keys under the mat outside for her she can get into the garage on her own and into the house to settle in once and for all.” I carefully proclaimed. He exclaimed, “No Maharet, we can’t leave the key under the mat because…” I can’t remember anymore something about evil people coming to steal away all of our belongings and me blaming him for it because he put the key under the mat in the first place. WTFF? (what the fat fuck?) “RIGID just put the key under the mat please.” I said as I tried to remain calm. “FINE Maharet, but don’t blame me if…” as he’s rummaging for the key. Even though he was in the shadow I could see him turning beet red. “RIGID JUST PUT the KEY under the MAT PLEASE” I said as my heart began exploding in my ears. I peered at him through the breakfast bar and peered at me from the other side, the blender and coffee maker in our way.

“PUT THE KEY UNDER THE MAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” I screamed.
“FUCK YOU!” and there went the coffee maker and blender as I pushed it into his face. He’s too fast for me and I’m the only one hurt in that one, that and the coffee maker, stupid coffee maker. I didn’t even like it anyway. My wrist is injured again and I want to hurt myself or something or him…

I went to the bedroom leaving him to pick up the coffee grounds and blender. Instead of coming to the bedroom to help iron things out he went to the shower. I’m beside myself. I’m confused. I’m…immobile. I wasn’t moving, I got myself into one position and just stood there with my hands on my hips. Not crying, barely breathing. I could feel myself going back to that icy place in my head. My cat Morrigan just stood there watching over me at the foot of the bed and Artemis at the opposite end claws hangin on to the corner. She reminded me of a gecko hanging onto corners in odd positions also immobile and unwavering. She looked at me wide eyed and waiting. I wasn’t looking at them, but I could see them, feel them staring at me and suddenly it started to come out. I made a funny snarfing/gurgling sound with my nose and throat as all the grief that had been boiling under me came out and my kitten, Artemis, hissed and slid off the side of the bed just so that I nearly broke out into laughter through my grief. It was truly hilarious, but she couldn’t keep her eyes off me. Water was pouring out of my face and mouth and she was transfixed. He came out of the shower and tried to say something to me.

I think we started to try to work it out, but he started to go on about why it is that he always has to give in to me. Why I can shout but he can’t shout. WHY WHY WHY. So I told him to get out of my house and he said okay so fast he thought he’d make my head spin. I rolled my eyes at him, but I still cried when the thought hit me. It’s just that he took SO LONG to get out that I started to laugh. I mean it was comical! Instead of apologizing for hurting my feelings, placing undue amounts of stress on MY shoulders because of my mom and freaking me the fuck out he pulls EVERYTHING out of the closet and takes his time picking and choosing what he was going to take. Threw it all in his bag and grabbed all his shoes and threw those in another bag. I was livid. I was enraged. I was relieved. I thought fine, if this is how he wants to play it fine. He better not leave in my car, with a card to my joint account or with my phone and blue-fucking-tooth headset. All the stuff he needs to survive and work that I helped him buy.. no wait, that I bought because last year he didn’t work and most of this year was spotty at best until recently SO THERE! In fact I would have made him give me the shoes we just bought and the jeans… but I felt bad. Well, I told him all of that and he said, “Oh don’t worry it’ll all be there on the writing desk for you. I’m not taking anything. You can keep the car, you can keep everything.” “Yeah, because it’s all mine???” as in dur!

So fine, he was leaving and I was fine with it and then pain in my chest swelled and swelled until I was in agony. As he pulled out the million socks he swears he never has I said, “So that’s it then? Rather than apologize for your behavior your just going to walk out?”

“Yes MahareT (yeah emphasise the T), I can’t do this anymore. I shouldn’t have to apologize because I didn’t do anything wrong. It’s not fair that I can’t say anything but it’s okay for you to get all pissy with me. I’m not helping you, I’m just making your worse and I can’t do this anymore.”, he said as he pulled out his socks from the drawer one by one. He didn’t even look up at me. Things get a little foggy after that. I think I screamed for him to get out of my house right then and there, but he wouldn’t go. He had to get the socks out of the drawer…the socks he NEVER wears. He had to take his time gathering his things while I’m in the middle of a panic attack and get out of the house at his leisure. I screamed over and over and over, but he didn’t move and the next thing you know a long metal lantern with long panes of glass on all four sides magically appeared in my hand and I thew it with such force just above his head sprinkling his back with glass shards. How do such glassy object always make their way into my hands? He didn’t move a muscle, okay maybe he twitched a little and coverd his head. Safety first you know. I screamed some more, but he didn’t get up and like magic a 5lb cd stereo alarm clock my ex husband bought me for Christmas one year that has NEVER failed to work went SOARING through the air and landed right on his ribs. He shouldn’t have tried to deflect it. I wasn’t going for his head…I was going for his ribs. At that moment I couldn’t remember which side had been broken before so I took the one most exposed. That was my way of saying, ‘That’s right mother-fucker. If I wanted to hit you I would hit you EXACTLY where I WANT to hit you.’

He grunted in pain, moaned as if he was in agony. “uuuugh…hissssss…aaaaaaaah…..ehsssssss…uuuugh” MOTHER FUCKING BASTARDO ESTUPIDO IDIOTA IMBECIL COME MIERDA MAMON!!! Can you imagine what would have happened if I broke the lantern over his head? Oh my god! So then I went on a screaming rampage. I screamed and screamed for him to get out until I couldn’t scream anymore, I paced and paced up and down my hallway and kitchen waiting for him to comfort me but he wouldn’t come. He always comes when it gets that bad. I took another 500 mg of depakote just in case that would help calm me down, but it wasn’t working fast enough. I was pacing and pacing in the kitchen and kept thinking, ‘I’ll let him leave and then I’ll get a knife. He’ll leave and I’ll get a knife, I’ll get a knife and I’ll be done. I’ll be done, I’ll be done, I’ll be done. I won’t worry anymore.’ I know that I don’t want to do that so then I start flipping out because somethings REALLY wrong and I’m NOT okay at all. this isn’t your normal freak out again so I went for the Jack Daniels and took a few swigs of it straight. If I had been “normal” I would have DIED I did it so fast. I mean I’m a whiskey drinker, but FUCK! Three straight swigs in the middle of a panic attack where I can hardly control my breathing??? Dudes….I was OFF MY ROCKER! He never came and then it hit me. He’s really leaving. He’s really leaving and it’s all my fault I did this. It’s all my fault and I did it and it’s all my fault he’s leaving. I’m supposed to see my Dr on Saturday. I had another appointment on Saturday. If he gives me another chance I’ll get different medication and I’ll get better this time. This time it’ll work and I’ll get better and he’ll forgive me and he won’t leave.

So I told him I was sorry and I asked him to forgive me. “Please don’t leave me. I’m sorry.” But he refused my apology and said he was just making me worse. That he wasn’t helping me. I was broken and in pieces everywhere… I was shattered and exploded all at once. I wasn’t merely beside myself, I was maniacal, ape shit, unglued, unhinged, psychotic, delirious…completely fucking GONZO. So I start flapping my hands a bit, saying okay, that’s fine and just cried and cried hysterically all over the house. I decide to prepare myself for the inevitable. I decide that I can’t look at his pictures. I decide that he should take them with him wherever he’s going. I gathered up all our wedding frames, pictures we’ve taken throughout the years and tried to give them, I grabbed the monkey that he grew up with and that he gave me the day he came home two years ago and begged him to take these things with him. I held them tight against my breast while my face dripped tears, saliva and snot all over these precious items. Okay, I’m exaggerating a little, but you get my meaning.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” I said, “Please take these with you Rigid, please take them.” Chocking on every word.

“Burn them. I don’t care.”, he callously uttered.

I was gone again. Hysterical and maniacal again. Crying and crying unable to stop. I went to the bedroom, frames and monkey in my arms and paced and paced until I ended back up with him and begged him again not to leave me. I begged and begged and told him that I’d get better, that the Dr would give me medicine and I’d get better. To please give me another chance even though I don’t deserve it. “It’s my fault, I know it’s my fault let me make it better PLEASE.”, I said. I finally broke through his iciness and into the core of him and he said, “It’s not your fault Maharet. It’s mine. I’m making you worse not better. It’s me who’s doing this to you. You’re acting this way because of me.” He gently helped me put the frames and monkey down and held me and kissed me. I clutched him and stood on my tippie toes so I could reach him better. I hung on for dear life and begged and begged and begged him not to leave me.

He took me to the bedroom and sat me down and proceeded to give me the numerous reasons why he should go. How it would be more beneficial to my health if he left. That he’s afraid I would try to do something if he stayed and it would be all his fault and couldn’t live with that on his conscience. I asked him how he could be sure that I wouldn’t try to kill myself if he left anyway? He didn’t know. But he cried so I told him I’m not going to kill myself. I told him that if he left, if he decided that it was for the best then I understand. There’s nothing I can do about that. I’ve tried my best and I’m proud of what I was able to accomplish. He interjected to let me know he was proud of me too. I also let him know that if he left I’d be fine tomorrow. I’d get up and go to work and I’d be okay. Yes I’d be in pain, but once I’m back in control I’d be okay, because I’m not smack dab in the middle of a manic episode all day long. When I wake up I won’t feel this way anymore and I’ll be able to move on that’s the way I’ve always been. But he didn’t actually want to go and so I told him, “Then stop being silly, grab your pajamas and let’s go to bed okay?” He nodded with tears in his eyes in agreement and kissed me deeply, tenderly. We dusted the sheets and blanket and picked up whatever bits of glass we could see. Still we slept on glass as we held each other in bed. We could feel the tiny little shards between our feet. As I fell into a deep sleep I wondered if the tiny little shards could pierce our hearts. I imagined that those little shards of glass travel through our bodies and pierce our hearts in unison. Our hearts bleeding into our very core chocking our insides until we die together forever, we slept on glass last night.

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