All I need is my Bible

"This is a computer room" I told Ron "Not a pass-out-on-the-floor-room".   Ron laughed as he lay on the floor. 

Ron got very drunk during "church", heckled the pastor, and passed out on the floor.  Thank God we were watching at home. 

Ron's belligerent and yelling, and the pastor's saying "I know some of you are having trials right now, but remember, all you need is your Bible."  You have no idea.

Yesterday, I got up at 4 AM, went to the warehouse, went to work, stocked.  I came home, took a nap, and we went to Walmart.  I had a horrible time with anxiety and depression. 

I did get most of what I needed, but I forgot the pepto.  I have "enough", I just like to have some backup.  It's for my stomach, after all. 

I do NOT need an ulcer, and I am in prime breeding conditions for same:
I take NSAIDS for my many headaches.
I take brutally toxic mood stabilizers - either of those would eat a hole in my stomach on their own. 
I am under a lot of stress. 
I am not getting enough protein. 

Anyway, I got, not surprisingly, more protein foods - easy stuff like skim ricotta, yogurt, soy milk (I get gassy with regular milk), easy things to consume when depressed, yet beneficial and wholesome-ish.  Wish I'd got the Pepto.  I read I can take it when I take my NSAIDS, which sounds like a good idea. 

Our heater is still acting up.  Last night Ron got drunk and tried to "fix" it by turning it on and off all night long, yelling at it, cursing, getting more drinks, banging around, and generally keeping me up all night.  I objected and he name-called.  "I was just trying to keep you warm, you [censored]."

Did I ask?  No. 

In fact, I specifically told him "I will be fine, I have plenty of blankets, and a space heater."  I reminded him of that, and he said, "Fine, freeze, [censored]." 

Ugh. 

The guy said he'd be out Monday.  No rush. 

Imagine my surprise when he said he still wanted to watch church today.  Sure, great.  I turned it on.  He complained a little but came in and sat down, 8 ounce drink of whiskey in his hand.  He'd already had one. 

He was pretty mellow until he finished the drink, then he got up and had another one.  He got pretty obnoxious when he started on that one.  Let's say, "formal alcohol drink" #7 or so. 

He thinks half a 16-ounce cup is "a drink" and "I only had one mouthful" failing to realize a mouthful is about 2-3 drinks, and one "cup" is really 7 drinks. 

Yes, I've told him.  He acts horrified for a minute and goes back to business as usual.  I am amazed his liver enzymes remain normal. 

I sat there, trying to feed myself spiritually, thinking, if only those gossiping women at work could see this.  They paint Ron as an innocent victim, a wonderful, warm, man.  I am painted as the lazy (racial) woman, cruelly forcing him to walk to work by himself. 

Ron always walked to work, alone, his entire working life, over 30 years.  He took buses "by himself".  He took commuter trains and subways "by himself".  He went hiking "by himself" and likes to relate the story of how he rescued the sighted hikers.  He was certainly capable of crossing a street by himself.  I even bought him a high-intensity, flashing, joggers safety strobe, which he wore faithfully. 

Ron worked me so many hours I couldn't walk him to work, even if I wanted to.  I have to sleep sometime, you know.  I would go in to work while he was sleeping and start the preparations.  He would let me sleep while he went to work and got his deliveries.  Not to mention, he was no victim, he was verbally abusive, drinking, and cheating.   He wouldn't even marry me, because "A woman only gets married so she can beat him legally when she leaves".  He also let his family treat me like crap, because he felt they were more important. 

Only my faith in God kept me at his side after the accident, when his precious "family" were trying to put him in a nursing home.  It certainly wasn't guilt.  What happened to Ron was the fault of the man who ran him over.  If Ron really felt unsafe he had other options to get to work.  He called a cab driver, who refused.  He called his brother, who refused.  Mr. "I'll be happy to help you run your business", who turned right around and blamed me, too. 

A lot of fingers to point if you want to go that way.  The other vendors used to give him rides because "It wasn't safe".  They thought our deli was going to affect their business and got very angry about it, decided to wage a little "war" and stopped giving Ron rides to work.  There's another finger to point.  Do I?  Never.  I could easily tell the gossips and they would love it. 

At one point, the other vendors were publically blaming me for the accident, and I reminded her she had stopped giving Ron rides, before I hung up on her.  She never mentioned it again.  I have never even addressed the others. 

I thought how they'd cluck and gossip, seeing Ron passed out on the floor, making guttural noises.  Yeah, really "interesting" huh.  I thought how they would never live with a man "like that".  Not unless they were getting a whole lot of benefit. 

And how they will continue to gossip about me until long after I'm dead.  This is all coming up, you see, because we are getting a lot of new staff.  They are, naturally, curious, about the blind man in the wheelchair.  Some of them ask me questions, and other postal workers come and try to change the story to the gossip version where I callously threw "poor Ron" out in front of an oncoming truck because I "refused" to walk him to work. 

The driver was distracted, talking on a cell phone, in a hurry, and ran a red light.  We'd both be in wheelchairs, assuming I lived.  I tell the new person. 

It gets old. 

Of course I clearly need to pray for the gossips.  Which I will. 

I am also faced, multiple times a day, with a smiling photo of the driver posted near the front door.  I would just rather pretend he doesn't exist.  Every time I see his face, I'm reminded of the worst times of my life.  Can they just STOP already?  He seems to be some kind of pet.  They made him "Employee of the month" a while back (stuck the photo right next to my vending area) and now this - they have a collage of about 20 employees, him included.  They couldn't find another mailhandler?   Out of a staff of two thousand?

I keep thinking of that old commercial "You deserve a break today" and feeling like, don't, I, Lord?  Many aspects of my life are good.  Nearly all my household systems are working.  The bills are paid.  Ron still has some problems (bleeding) but not bad, with the colitis thing.  I don't have a headache.  The cats are healthy.  I'm not pregnant.  :p  Besides being crazy, I'm healthy. 

The weather is nice, we have a good roof over our heads - but I'm tired.  I'm always tired. 

I keep putting myself out there doing Bible Handouts, praying for everyone, helping Ron witness to his muslim cab drivers (some of whom are very "interesting") - his "people group", apparently - and I wonder is my life even making a positive impact? 

Is it? 

I sent my aunt an email recently detailing things that would need to be settled if something happened to us.  I have been talking about this for a while, to her.  I finally did it, and scared the hell out of her.  "I thought you were suicidal at first" she said, "But then as I read I could see you weren't".  No, just trying to get things settled. 

I've been in a lot of near-miss accidents lately and I have to wonder if they are a sign of a fatal accident to come.  Maybe, maybe not.  I know I do feel better knowing I put out the adoption info for the cats, though.  People need to know Biscuit needs wet food, and what brand. 

The Bible talks a lot about endurance "He who endures to the end will be saved".  I'm enduring. 

I can't wait for my next mania.