I feel like this has become my Vent Blog.
So, last Monday I took Beast to a treatment facility about 45 minutes from here--we are fortunate that we have several options from which to choose within an hour or so--and left him there for the foreseeable future for rehab. He got blitzed about 3 weeks ago. He can barely walk and can't drive, but somehow he managed the 1/4-1/2-mile walk to the nearest mini-mart and bought himself a bottle of vodka. I worked till 9 that night, so came home to find him "asleep" in the chair with half a bottle left. He finished most of that before going up to bed. And STUPID ensued.
Next morning I told him to pick an option: he moves out, I move out, or he goes to rehab till it sticks.
He made all the calls and did most of the legwork on scheduling and organizing. Because we have private insurance, there was a bed available right away. They took him back to do the intake interview, finished that up, came back out with the meds he's NOT allowed on site (they're opiate painkillers, so pretty unsafe to have around, so we get it completely), and that was it. No interview for me, just "say goodbye" so we did. Weird. He has called a couple of times, and I took one of his AA sponsors over Sunday with me for Family Education and Visiting Hours. I told someone the place is like a combination of tiny college campus + prison: lovely setting, nice housing, and extremely scheduled time. And no money. Bartering is done with hard candy and food in the cafeteria: my breakfast eggs for your toast, my tuna sandwich for a haircut.
He's been fighting for a week to get his back pain addressed. Because he was taking opioids, they wanted him drug-free to assess whether it was an addiction to painkillers. [It's not.] In the meantime, he was getting OTC Tylenol by the handful. Not good. I think, as of Friday, they've finally figured out that the pain, she is real, and are giving him something else that's at least less-addictive (or non-addictive). He was pretty dire Sunday still. Lousy sleep, bad pain, lots of bounce-back from changing meds, and just crabby about everything.
Saturday was my birthday. He tried to make me a present the day before he left. It's a total failure. He didn't get a card, can't buy or mail anything from the facility, and so the day passed completely without fanfare. Sparky IM'd me to "sing," as did Jen, and I got a card from my sister, though I didn't pick that up till yesterday because it went to the P.O. box. Oh, and Beast called and wished me happy birthday in a 2 minute and 27 second call. I helped with Operation Christmas Child packing during the day as I do around this time every year, so that was a good-enough birthday present to myself.
My other me-gift was a note to everyone in both immediate families detailing what's been going on. A couple people knew some of it, but others had no idea. I'm done hiding out in my family. Just so very done. I heard from several people, all messages of support and even a couple of phone calls. I've missed being able to talk straight with everyone.
I'm debating whether I want to send Beast a card--his birthday is Friday--and I'm thinking not. Not out of retaliation exactly, but he bailed on Valentine's Day, anniversary AND birthday this year because he's so wrapped up in his own drama. I'll see him on Sunday. Or Monday. But I'm really tired of the universe spinning around him. For our counseling visit on Sunday, "we" talked about his pain relief issues and frustrations. The counselor asked me to start if I had any questions or concerns, and I mentioned the pain thing and he took the ball and ran with it for the rest of our allotted time. He's such a middle-aged-white-guy. Welcome to how the rest of the world has to interact with bureaucracy EVERY DAY!
Part of that last bit can be attributed to the horrific election results and all the White Boys on both sides of the political divide moaning and whining about how upsetting something is to them. SHUT THE FUCK UP, men! Really. You've had your centuries to talk and run things, but you have managed to do nothing but fuck things up. Let some women and minorities in the door, sit down and LISTEN.
OK. So last week sucked. It's pretty strange that with all my crying skills, I really have yet to shed many tears over anything this month. Once it all actually hits, in my usual delayed reaction awareness, it's going to SUUUUUCK!!
This weekend, I over-indulged in junk food and for the first time in my life actually made myself sick. I had to leave work early yesterday with a gurgly stomach, and--work being as it has been for awhile now--I'm not sure I'm up to ever going back. I suppose I have to, since I'm the sole breadwinner now. I stayed home today in any case. There are sheets in the dryer, I've looked at the bank statements to be sure I don't have any late bills, and I've caught up on Facebook. I'm going to finish this up and read some Beowulf. Clean out the fridge. Look for my P.E.O. pin. Figure out Thanksgiving planning. Vacuum the basement--which Beast was going to do before he left but ended up spending hours on this stupid project for my birthday. Put shit way. Figure out how to manage 2 toddlers in this not-child-proofed house. Take a nap. I'm supposed to be taking care of myself, right? So that's my nod to those directions that everyone has given me!
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