Sunday, December 21, 2014

Out through the bars

I didn't sleep well last night.  When I woke up, Ron was asleep. 

I did my shower and God Time.  Ron woke up; same old negativity. 

I found it interesting, on a Christian message board someone had posted this: 
For me the best advice to give to a professing Christian going through it is to tell them to work as hard as they can NOT to sin.... mental, emotional, physical, spiritual, and monetary abuse. Same thing for yelling, screaming, fighting, lying, and any other plans for attack.

Sin.  Hm.  I need to hear that Ron is sinning (I am dead serious).  I mean, they could have been writing Ron out to the letter.

Anyway, I fought a rising tide of frantic desperation.  I felt trapped.  I had to get out!  I also recalled the recurring advice I'm given - go out and do something fun by myself. 

I felt like a prisoner, looking out through the bars.  

I was also pretty depressed.  I figured, where would I like to go?  What's the busiest place I can go?  That was easy.  Walmart. 

I am near three Walmarts.  I prefer the older one. 

I decided to do some cleaning, first, while I had the energy.  I filled a whole trash bag.  At some point I need a large box so I can start work on a donate box.  Some things, I clearly don't want, like two blankets that belonged to my evil grandmother, and some other unwanted items.

I also have a lot of Medium clothes.  I am not getting anywhere near a medium soon - I am currently a 2X.  I think I can let them go, and replace them in the happy event I got to Mediumworld.

Hell, if I got down to a medium, Ron would hand over his credit card.   He would buy me whatever I wanted. 

I told Ron I was going out.  He kept telling me he could take me tomorrow but I told him I wanted to go today.  Yes, I was fine paying for a cab.  No, I wouldn't take the bus (that would have taken hours each way).  He fought me like I was meeting another man. 

I told him I WAS going, and he could either call me a cab, or I could call one for myself.  He called. 

About that time the yard guys showed up.  We paid him extra last time, for this visit.  I would rather pay him for the next visit, every time he comes, than ever be accused of this: 
Indeed the wages of the laborers who mowed your fields, which you kept back by fraud, cry out; and the cries of the reapers have reached the ears of the Lord of Sabaoth.

A lot of itinerant workers, and those of dubious immigration status, end up getting screwed over by their employers.  I won't be one.

Ron was convinced the guy was going to say the payment was for this visit, even though we paid for that last time.  I told him, worst case, he did a yard cleanup that would have cost hundreds, for free.  If we have a $30 misunderstanding I'm OK with that.

Of course the guy remembered, and I told him this money is for next time.  He's fine with that.  I think he finds me a little odd.

Hey, he can buy his family something.

About that time the cab showed up.  The driver was muslim, with the book "quaranic advice" sitting proudly in the console.  He asked about my husband, which led to the old "Amazing things God has done with my husband, whom He literally brought back from the dead" testimony.  He was pretty agog.  I also gave him a generous tip.

It costs $14 to go to Walmart.  Each way.  You can see why I never took a cab before when money was tight.

But, if I have the disposable cash, and spending it will ease my life, I don't mind spending it - even though I am amazingly cheap in many ways.  I see it as supporting the cab driving service provider. 

The store wasn't too busy. 

I had to laugh at myself as I found myself on the soup aisle, buying cup-a-noodles for the customers.  I spend 30 cents each, they pay $1.  I also got some shelf stable meals. 

The meal is good for over a year, which works great in my "other" food machine.  I have thrown away a lot of sandwiches because people don't see it as a "real" food machine.  It's off in a corner next to coffee and mainly sells a lot of my K-cups. 

I need to carry food, and I want to carry food in case they buy out the sandwiches.  So, I carry vienna sausage in a can ($1), cup-a-noodles ($1), "lunch buckets" of ravioli, spaghetti, etc. ($1.75), applesauce (75 cents), and my luxury item - the shelf stable meal for $4.  They have their choice of pot roast and mashed potatoes, turkey and dressing, etc.  Really nice meals.  Since I have seen them bringing in $20 a plate takeout meals, I figure some of them have the cash, and I'm right. 

In addition to the sandwiches, I also carry chicken corn dogs (very popular with the no-beef-or-pork crowd), for $1, steak burritos for $1.75 (popular with middle aged contractors), and a limited selection of frozen sandwiches for $2.25.  I'm pretty proud of my food selection, and I love how most of it is non-perishable.  If they want to buy it in a day, or two months from now, it's ready.  If the machine goes out of order, they're still good. 

I do have to throw out the burritos, hot dogs, and sandwiches. 

I had to laugh at myself, looking at the noodles occupying over half the cart space.  I am so dedicated it borders on foolish!   Ron waffles between admiration and outright mocking.  I don't care, I answer to God. 

I needed to get some pintos.  I decided the one pound bags, in addition to being a better value, offered more versatility in storage.  I selected some flax oil, because it had lots of Omega 3's.  Supposed to be good for depression. 

No, EPA and DHA are good for depression.  Flax has ALA Omega 3's.  Good for the heart, not for depression.  I put that back. 

Suffice to say, when I'm depressed I don't worry about my heart.  

After some internal debate, I decided I would like to start taking the fish oil (good omega 3's) today.  Yes, I have some coming sometime, hopefully this week - but do I want to be depressed for a week if I can get ahead of it?  Especially as the fish oil cost about the same as the flax stuff I was so eager to buy earlier? 

I put it in the cart. 

Ron (and I) wanted snack foods.  I got him enough to hold him for a while (he had given me some cash).  He wanted 18 oz, total, cat treats.

He was worried about flavors.  I reminded him they like anything by Temptations.  I have never seen them reject a Temptations treat.

Torbie, however, totally detests any sort of healthy, meat-based treat.  

Ron got beef jerky (because he needs more protein).  I remembered I had my jerky, just now (I had opened it to give Ron a taste).  I am munching as I type, because God knows I can use more protein. 

I looked around for some more chocolate candy, but it's all Valentine's now.  I got some Safeguard soap because my current bar of antibacterial is almost gone. 

I have forgotten, a few times, I need to use the antibacterial stuff, with my skin problems.  For this .  If you scroll down to "triggering factors" lithium is specifically mentioned, however I still had a few problems, now and then, even before lithium.  It's one reason I use a "lets me sweat non stinky stuff" deodorant stone as opposed to an antiperspirant - I had terrible problems until I figured it out and switched this year. 

Like I don't have enough problems, huh?  [grin]  Anyway, mine is pretty well managed.  I take generous amounts of vitamin E and A.  I use the deodorant stone.  I only shave when I have to.  And outbreaks are greatly reduced when I use antibacterial soap.  All easy enough. 

I got some more vacuum seal freezer bags - I got one with a pump recently, and I've been really impressed.  I want them to keep making these. 

Ron and I couldn't find the canning jar lids - the plastic ones you use after you have opened the jar, while you keep it in the fridge.  I couldn't find them but I did get a couple cheap units of stainless silverware.  They even match. 

That cost about $5 for 4 sets each of fork, knife, spoon.  I also got a package of standard canning jar lids. 

I like to eat a protein bar at work, on Truck Day.  I remember it's important to get protein after "lifting weights".  Unloading a truck load of heavy bottled drinks certainly qualifies!  They even had my favorite flavor, French Vanilla.  They aren't cheap but I like them and they don't cause any problems.

I bought a package of plain butter cookies, and some plain shortbreads.  I should be OK eating one or two of those now and then.  I also got some decaf french vanilla for dunking.

I looked around the store, the ruckus of screaming children and blaring speakers still better than what I'd left, looked around a little more, and decided I was done.

I did/do worry about shopping as a "fix" for emotional stresses.  I don't want to go that route, but, at the end of it, I did need those things for work.

Before I checked out, I did select a "Limited Edition!  Spiced Eggnog" airfreshener.

I checked out and called Ron to see if he wanted something from McDonald's.  He did.  I got some chicken nuggets (I don't care, I like them!), and his items.

Then he called a cab for me, but he was so drunk he didn't realize it.  He told me to call.  I did.  "Oh!" the dispatcher said, true empathy in his voice.  "I, ah, spoke to your husband and put in the request already."  His voice carried a lot of understanding.

I'd like to get to the place where I'm not embarrassed by my "alcoholic family member".  But I am.  I don't want to be married to the town drunk.  I am fine with being married to the town cripple, but the drunk, too?

It makes me want to hide under my desk.

Lately, since he got some margarita mix, he has been absolutely obsessed with buying "Margaritaville".  Do you know what that means for me?   Endless repetitions of a song I HATE, played at high volume, again and again as Ron drinks his margarita mix.

Many "drinking songs" are really "ode to the alcoholic blackout".
The Everclear Song - which I have heard far more than I ever wanted. 
Margaritaville - another blackout song. 

These are just the two that come to mind off the top of my head. 

I was starting to wish I'd gone somewhere, like the mall, where I could stay all day. 

When I got home I was treated to the sight of a drunk, filthy, Ron, sitting in his walker, waving money (and a tract) in the air as he sat in the open doorway.  Frankly, I don't see how he made it to the door. 

He was slurring his words and the driver began backing up.  I sighed and gave him an apologetic look, but he wouldn't meet my eyes.  I don't blame him.  He escaped quickly. 

Ron sat in his wheelchair, mumbling drunkenly, attempting, I think, in his own way, to welcome me home.  He did get out of the doorway. 

However, the yard looked FANTASTIC. 

I put my stuff away and gave him his food, hoping it would soak up some liquor.  He chided me about "wasting money on a cab when I would have taken you for free" and I bit back my retort.

Something like, I would have bashed my own brains out, or done myself other harm, if I had to sit in the house with you drinking yourself stupid one more day....


He ate his food and fell asleep, and I took a nap (the neighbors were gone, so it was a safe bet).  I had a pretty good one, with some very weird dreams, but when I'm stressed I try to hide in sleep. 

I got up, did this... now I will try to stay busy until about 7:30? 

Why then?  My neighbor has sprinklers that hit the side of my house.  They cycle for about 10 minutes, and end at 7:25.  I find that upsetting. 

Hey, that, and the rare loud party are my only problems, and his wife said my cat "is cute". 

I can work with that. 



Anonymous said...

Is Ron due for a checkup any time soon? His alcoholism is really progressing, along with his deteriorating mental state. Some of that is depression, but much of it is classic personality disorder, as you know. :( It's possible that the effects of his drinking would show up in bloodwork now, and I wonder if his doctor could use that to get through to him.

Heather Knits said...

He only goes when he's sick. I believe, if nothing else, I will make the "drinky drinky" gesture during his next visit.

Unfortunately all I read says the drunk has to get their own help. No one can do it for them.

Hell, I signed him up for intervention! They WANTED him! It fell through (my aunt and uncle refused to talk on camera about the time he beat me up). Ron said he would have said no had I done that.

My Dad had very good care in Al Anon. I wish I could find the kind of group he talked about. I wish I could find any kind of caregiver group... sigh.

A trip to the hematologist

I slept OK but woke up really tired.  I hit the snooze alarm a few times, much to Biscuit's disgust.  But I'm getting ahead of mys...