Today at half past Eleven we received a Christmas hamper from social services.
How far can a family sink?
Since my last pist things have got worst for us. I started this blog 18 months ago to try to talk about the ways and means of getting my family our of a mire.
Well all I can say is that I have failed spectacularly.
Last Christmas we were very short of cash, having cleared loads of debts, but my wife had a good job at the FT so there was light at the end of the tunnel. This year neither of us have jobs, I’ve had a monster stress and anxiety nervous breakdown and my wife is now getting treatment for her alcohol dependency.
We moved city in August, no longer am I a Londoner, someone who lives in the greatest Alpha city on the planet (sorry, New York, Tokyo), I’m now in a south coast sea side town.
We did this because my wife couldn’t deal with the case workers in London who were at her about her alcoholism. So we ran away from London, rather than do what I wanted which was to face it and deal with it.
So here we are. We now live in a town that is half the population density of my London borough.
Since we moved here her drinking escalated to such an unmanagagble point, that she was staggering around screaming, shouting and raving like a deranged alcoholic. She was a danger, to herself, her children and anyone around her.
She was basically one small step away from drano.
It hasn’t been nice, of course it’s all my fault, I’m either too angry about her drinking, or I don’t care enough, or well, what ever. Anyone who has lived with an alcoholic knows the score. Those of you who haven’t, or who are in denial, who are alcoholics themselves, the best way to describe it is watching a psychological horror movie that never ends. Your constantly tense and on edge.
Well, I’ve lost two jobs since I’ve been here because if that I’ve broken down and I’m on mirtazapine.
In 7 days 2016 starts. From Rosh Hashana to now it been the worst ever.
Here’s a photo of my “Darling Wife” at her worst. Just prior to this she was staggering around rambling incoherently before collapsing on the floor.
She is an absolute shameful disgrace when pissed up.
Three years ago I worked for a grand old Financial Institution, A one minute walk from Lloyd’s of London. I worked with Brokers, Trades, Underwriters and my favourites Actuaries.
Then my wife’s little indiscretions mounted, drinking and debt, they’d catch up with her and she’d dump the problem in my lap. Well, she didn’t really, she’d just never do anything about it.
I struggled paying for the school, I struggled paying the debts, I struggled with poor childcare (we had one nanny who would drug the children as I later found out).
Each time I was left on my own, the messes that my dear wife got us into, she’d walk away from and drink more.
It became too much, one day I punched my wife squarely in the face, because she was drunk and wouldn’t listen to me. I’d only just payed off around 6K of her debts, which she wouldn’t help with at all. The help I asked for was just for her to list all her creditors, which she just wouldn’t do.
During this period as well she was becoming arrogant about her career, how she was earning more than me. So I think you can see why I became so dismayed about things. On one side it felt like she was rubbing my nose in it, on the other I was having to pay for all the debt the spun up. And she continued to drink,
Of course I’d hit her by this point, I’d been arrested, I pleaded guilty to assault because it was true. I had assaulted her.
I was quite fortunate with the police, because I was of good character, no previous charges, my employer and that I showed remorse, I held myself accountable and that they felt there was extenuating circumstances, they mitigated the charge, it was reduced from Grievous Bodily Harm (yes, the punch was that bad) to common assault and I was released with a caution.
But from that point on, when ever I became angry at my wife’s poor behaviours and excessive drinking, she’d threaten to call the police.
A second incident occurred, she got pissed up and called the police, again another night in the cells. This time the police found no evidence of wrong doing in my part, but warned me none the less.
I lost my job and became a stay at home dad, that was three Christmases ago. I worked hard looking after the girls, making sure that the messes that had happened were fixed. Found them a good state school, pulled them from fee paying school, got play therapists for them, started turning things around.
During all this my wife’s drinking went underground, she’d gone to a rehab unit where the other patients showed her how to hide drinking. Just after the second Christmas, she broke her arm. Yes, she’d been drinking when she got on a skateboard. Rather than call the ambulance straight away, she waited trying to contact me. I suspect it was part in parcel of wanting the alcohol to be processed and appear less pissed.
After that I swore we’d never have a bad Christmas, yet here we are.
A care package from social services, sitting in our cupboards, Christmas presents for the children courtesy of social services.
Every criticism you could level at this situation, I’ve already levelled at myself.
Here I am on Christmas eve, being visited by the ghosts of Christmas past and present. This time the ghost of Christmas future isn’t here.
I guess in many ways my life to date us a recipe to be a man who chooses to go his own way. Or an argument for the MRA-ers to say the this is a shining example of why men’s rights are needed.
Well to both, or anyone who wants to tut-tut-tut at this Springer-esque lifestyle, it happened, where as I don’t like my wife personally, I don’t bear her any grudge (even though I sound like I do) because everyone make mistakes, its how we pick up the prices afterwards and move forwards with our lives that makes a difference.
I’m glad that the ghost of Christmas future hadn’t visited, life at the moment is like AA, one day at a time. Perhas that’s what the spirit of future Christmases is for, for life-aholics who need to take it one step at a time to get through life at all.