Abuse of the System
I recently wrote about a loved one’s battle with alcoholism here. The tone of that story is quite negative: I wasn’t convinced that she would take the first step – the highest of them all, if you ask any Twelve Stepper.
But she did, and by all appearances she is beating the odds. I mention this in the beginning to give you an idea where I’m coming from as I write this. Here’s an update.
Soon after she returned from rehab, her husband – an alky himself who once drank me under the table – slept with her. When she woke up the next morning she began talking about plans for Labor Day. Her husband said “I already have plans with E.,” his mistress. What she thought was reconciliation was nothing but a sick and twisted end to their marriage. Looking back it’s clear that her husband was pushing her back to the bottle, and unfortunately, she obliged him.
She found her stash, and given the condition of her liver, it didn’t take much for her to drink herself into a day-long stupor. Her husband went to work as usual, and after he returned they argued. She threw a glass of water on him, and get this, he called the cops.
The cops arrived and found both her and her husband intoxicated. The husband said that she had assaulted him with a glass of water, and the cops hauled her ass to jail. Mind you, he’s 4 inches and 50 pounds heavier than his wife, but the cops simply wanted to separate the two, and left it to the lawyers and judges to sort things out.
Her husband got a Protection From Abuse (PFA) order against her that prevents her from coming within 100 yards of him. Because of this, I have taken to referring to him as “Girly Man” or “GM”. She can’t get near her own home when Girly Man is there, and worse, GM changed the locks so she can’t get inside her home when he’s away either. She can’t see her kids unless the eldest drives himself and his younger brother over to visit her. He’s changed the PIN on their checking account, and voided all their credit cards. She has in effect lost everything except the clothes she was wearing – all because of law that was meant to keep women away from abusive husbands is itself being abused. To make matters worse the PFA is for one year.
When she was released from jail, her parents took her in – against the advice of myself and several other Twelve Steppers. But her parents made a precondition: she must attend AA meetings or they will dump her on the street.
And guess what?
She has. It’s been a month and she is still sober. That’s 30 days of not drinking – the longest period of sobriety she’s had since her kids were born it turns out.
Meanwhile, Girly Man’s mistress has pretty much moved into the house. I’m not sure how she can do it – living in another woman’s home, whose pictures are on the walls, who chose the drapes and furniture, whose clothing is in the closets. Personally, it creeps me out, and I’m a guy.
I’m sure that Girly Man hasn’t told his mistress the truth about his 26-year relationship with his wife. But look at that number: 26 years. There had to be some good times. Two kids. A large house in an upscale neighborhood in the suburbs. GM has told his wife that he has cheated on her for ten years. While her alcoholism impacted him, it doesn’t give him the excuse for his behavior now. As for his drinking, he views her inability to hold her liquor as a weakness. Girly Man is a simple guy, with simple thoughts. To him sickness is weakness no matter what the disease. Of course, not only is he a drinker, he’s a smoker and a diabetic – so evidently these thoughts don’t apply to him. Regardless, his wife was sick, and the vows that he took 20 years ago don’t let him off the hook.
The lawyers have begun to take over – which is the way it should be given the circumstances. Lawyers take one step at a time, and while the wheels of the court system grind slowly, they grind thoroughly. Girly Man will have his day of reckoning.
Meanwhile, the sister-in-law gets stronger. As my saving angel, John B., said about her, “Any day she doesn’t drink is a good day.” So today is a good day.
Sometimes it’s great to be wrong.
