It doesn't rain - but it pours.
I was back at work today again, teaching art. Feeling not too terrible (yay).
After my extra art class I went past my ex's house to visit my daughter before heading on home (daddy day today). I arrived at 16:30 and he was drunk out of his bracket. I had my neighbour's son with me (a good friend of Sophia's) and this lovely little boy said, "Hello!" to the ex. Being in the state that he was, the ex did not hear sweet little boy greet him.
"Say hello, C." I said.
"Why the &#*&@ should I say hello to a little laaitie who doesn't greet me first? I'm not greeting any little sh*t who comes to my house and doesn't greet me!" It was too terrible. C was rambling away and swearing like a trooper whilst my little girl was sitting playing on the lawn, and her friend was sitting nervously on a chair outside. C began to go off at me so I grabbed my neighbours boy and made a hasty retreat. When I got home I sat down on my bench outside, very quietly. I sat there feeling that I literally can not take anymore. I was scheduled to give an art class this evening, but after the incident at the exes, of course my heart decided to let me down and started beating furiously and erratically. I had to cancel my class (I haven't worked in almost two weeks - I need to work!). I don't know why I had to sit on my bench in almost stunned silence for so long before realizing I absolutely could not leave my daughter with her father. I new I had to fetch her, but I was so afraid of him causing a scene and upsetting her.
I sent him a forewarning message to say that I was fetching Sophia, and that he should not make a scene. Of course, the abusive sms's started right there. When I got there I tried to keep the situation calm as to not upset my darling daughter, but C, not being in his right mind was chirping comments continually.
I needed to keep my composure, and I needed him to calm down, so I went outside to the car for a few minutes. As I was sitting there, one of his housemates arrived.
"C is completely out of it. He's on another planet!" He waved at me exasperatedly (this being 16:30 in the afternoon). C had not taken Sophia to school today (again) so I presume he had been hanging around the house all day drinking. When I arrived there and saw he was so drunk, I asked him, "How can you be so drunk like this with Sophia here??"
"It's my off day. I can do what I want!" He retorted.
"Um.. OK. But you know she needs to go to school."
"We had to sort out her toys and clothes."
"Don't you think you should do that on a Sunday, when she comes to you? You know, it is important for her to go to school and stick to a routine and have structure."
"Today suited me. It's my day (off) so I can keep her with me if I want to. And I can do what I want. And drink as much as I want."
"Um, well, C... It is not really "your" day. It is actually "Sophia's" day. All days are her days."
After being in the car for a few minutes, I heard Sophia start to sob so made a beeline towards the house again. C was busy playing me off against him, telling her that I was taking her away from him. That I say he is a bad daddy. Etc. etc. I assured my little girl mommy would never take her away from daddy, and that "of course daddy is not a bad daddy!" I went to fetch Sophia's school bag from C's room to make a hasty exit before the situation became even worse. C came charging into the room behind me. He grabbed me and gave me an open hander on the face whilst shouting expletives at me (he says he was "giving me a pat on the cheek"). Thank god Sophia was outside at this stage and did not have to witness this. He grabbed me painfully again near the front door. I managed to free myself from his grip, and I slapped him (yes, I did) and ran outside. He was shouting after me the whole time. Sophia was crying at the car and I got her in as quickly as I could to shelter her little ears from this nightmare. And people wonder why I wanted to have a child by myself. Without a "partner".
God, I hate alcohol. It destroyed my marriage. My family. My husband was a slave to the booze. Still is. It took me many years to realize that not even his love for his child and I. His family. Was enough to stop him from drinking. It saddens me tremendously. Deeply. As he is really such a nice guy - far from perfect - but overall a "nice guy" and to this day, I adore him. Give him drink and he becomes terrifying. There were nights when we were married where I thought he was going to kill me. As in cold bloodily murder me. I was so afraid of him that I even once told my best friend, that if something ever "happened" to me - it was him. Our marriage was very strained for a long time - the longer we stayed together and the worse our relationship became, the more he resented me. The more angry he became. And jealous. He would fly into fits of rage and accuse me of all sorts of things. How he thought I could be cheating on him makes no sense as I was home with our daughter every night whilst he was out "working" (boozing).
I will never forget one night in particular - shortly before I made the final decision to leave him. I was lying in bed (never quite able to sleep until he got home at some ungodly hour) trying to sleep. I heard the front door open and some clamoring on the kitchen counter, then silence. I thought he must have passed out on the couch. Relief. I was lying breathless, trying to be sure that he was indeed asleep, when I heard a silent shuffle at the bedroom door. I opened my eyes and I saw him silhouetted, swaying at the door. My blood ran cold at the site of him there, swaying with the stench of cigarettes and alcohol permeating from his pores. I was absolutely petrified - I could actually see him lunging at me and killing me, that very night. Almost like I could read his alcohol infused thoughts. Should I? Shouldn't I? I could hardly breath. He used to become so erratic. He would switch from "oh I adore you" to "you slut hore" within seconds on a booze fueled binge. I will never forget how relieved I felt when he stumbled around and headed back to the lounge.
There are certain moments. Images. In your life which you never forget. That was one of them.
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