It's Time for the Big D

Perhaps posting this here will help people in similiar situations get help...before it is too late. I started this last night at 2 AM. It's now 12 noon the next day and my hell is over...for now...

8:00 AM - Wake up at Mom and Dad's. P had fallen asleep in the playroom and I was in my room on the other side of the house. Go downstairs and we both wake up around the same time. Play with the kiddos, hang out with coffee...normal morning.

10:00 AM - Mom says she will take the kids to my grandmother's house, so P and I can run down our house in Norwalk to get it ready to sell. We plan on listing it tomorrow.

10:30 AM - Go down to the house together. We check out the basement (which flooded yesterday and it's not as bad as we thought). P immediately says, "I need a nap." We have an argument over whether or not this is right to nap when a) we just had 10 hours of sleep and b) have a ton of shit to do. He ends up yelling at me saying, "If I want to nap, I'll take a nap."

11:30 AM - I go to Barnes and Noble to get out of the house, get a coffee, and clear my head. I pick out some childrens' books for Laney and feel better. I head home. He's laying down, not really sleeping. I go in the room and tell him, "Patrick, this is it, we need make and KEEP an appointment with the divorce mediator. I love you and am afraid we are just plain malignant for each other right now. I am done." I don't really know what brought me to this point, but I just was so done.

He starts crying, props up on one elbow, looks me in the eye and says, "I am sorry. I have been such a stubborn, selfish jerk. I know you need a partner who supports you and I will be that. I WILL take care of you. I WILL NOT let our marriage die. I love you and, right now, you need to go lie down and be comfortable in bed and relax and let me get you lunch. You rest and call friends and I will go to Home Depot and fix up this house." Needless to say, I cried tears of joy. (Dana can attest to this since I called her at this point.

12:30 PM - I drift off into a little nap and feel more relaxed than I have in months. Maybe it will be alright? Maybe we will make it? Maybe....night night, Kiki

2:00 PM - Phone rings and P tells me that the car, which I had bottomed out in the morning pulling over the curb in our front yard...our VERY old van that has over 160,000 miles on it, is leaking coolant and can't be driven. He says he's in the parking lot at Home Depot and that he will call AAA.

2:30 PM - I decide to borrow the neighbor's car and go over to pick up all of P's crap out of the van. He had driven it home from upstate NY and had (still after almost 2 weeks) his suitcases, computer, etc in it. I get to Home Depot and pull into the parking lot next to his car. I can see that he is quickly rummaging in the back of the car. I can tell he is up to something and I immediately suspect he's doing whip-its....been there before and, this man just does not move fast and he was furtively shoving something somewhere FAST. So I ask him. He denies it.

2:45 PM - Go to load the neighbor's car. He puts his backpack in first and then all his other big suitcases. He then says he wants to have a cigarette and goes rummaging around looking for his backpack and then says, "Geesh, I never should have put this in the way back here." He goes to smoke in the van claming he wants to call AAA again to see when they are coming. I say fine. I go to throw away some trash and then come back and he is talking to AAA. He is giving them every drop of info...acct number, my name, location, license plate, etc. This seems strange to me since he claims to have done this already about an hour ago. He hangs up and says to me, "WHY did they need all the info again?" I look at him suspiciously and say, "Patrick DID you call them before?" He says yes.

3:00 PM - Decide to head back home to Norwalk so we can drop off the neighbor's car. I talk him into just calling AAA and cancelling. Let's just leave the car for tonight, I say. So we do...

3:15 PM - Go to transfer stuff out of the neighbor's car and into the storage pod and again, P puts his backpack at the very bottom of all of his big pieces of luggage. I question him (it's like putting your purse at the bottom of a big pile where you won't be able to access it). He claims nothing is in it. I say, "I am going to need to look in your backpack NOW." (I've gotten really good at trusting my instincts!) He says, "NO...you either trust me or you don't!" I say, "Obviously, I DON'T! If you were not hiding anything, you would not mind this, nor would you be making such a big deal of it." I make one move towards the backpack and he says, "YES, I went and bought whip-its." I go to the backpack and there are $80 worth of whip-its in there.

3:17 PM - My heart breaks...yet again. I look at him earnestly and say, "Well, you really did make a dumb choice today, didn't you? You pick today, when I am READY to get a divorce, to do this? Your actions are speaking louder than your words, you want out. I will give it to you."

3:30 PM - Call my friend Pat to come and drive us to Ridgefield. She complies, GOD BLESS HER. We sit outside, him staring into space, me staring at the ground. I am numb and broken and sad. I do love this man, I know no one can or will understand how, why, etc. But, I do. We sit together for awhile. P gets up and throws away all the whip-it stuff. I thank him, but I know it's too little too late. I think about leaving him in Norwalk, but know that, DAMMIT, all his meds are at my parents' house. So.....

4:00 PM Pat picks us both up and drives us to Ridgefield. We get home and lie together on our futon in the playroom and talk. I tell him about how I have tried. I am exhausted from trying so hard. I can't do anymore. He says he wants to die for about the 100th time this week. I say, "I sorry you don't get to. You have 24 hours to figure out where you will go. I can't have you living here. It's not working. As for everything else, we will talk about that." Toying with options, it just seems like there is SERIOUSLY no where for him to go.

5:00 PM - My mom gets home with the kids and we immediately sit down with her and I ask her to tell me what she is thinking and all her frustrations come out. She's not able to have P living with us. She feels trapped in her own home. She looks at P and tells him she loves him, but that he can't be a family man right now, it's obvious. She tells him she's seen her daughter turn into a lousy daughter, a lousy mother and depressed soul. She can't watch it anymore.

5:05 PM - P seems to rally and plays with his kids and give Elena her bath...he is actually being quite sweet. I am resigned to the fact that it will be over, but he still is being quite a sweet father and it touches me. I go into the bathroom and I can hear him talking to Laney in the kitchen. She says, "I wuv you Dadda. I wuv my Momma too!" He says..."I love you too, Laney and I love your Momma too." and she says, "Why you love my Momma, Daddy?" and he answers, "I love your Momma because she is my wife, I married her because I love her so much." It was sweet. We do baths and put her to bed and sweet Liam to bed.

7:00 PM - I go downstairs. P and I are planning on watching 24. We put it on and watch it. During the second episode, I fall asleep, my M.O.

8:30 PM - I wake for a moment and the tv is running, but P is no longer in his seat. I get up and pad into the kitchen and he is closing my parents' liquor cabinet. I look at him and say, "You WILL NOT drink at my parents' house. YOU WILL NOT!!! You need to take your medication and go to bed." He says no, all the while holding his spinning head. He's tortured, it's obvious to see. He says, "I can't. Sorry. I'm going." I say, "Don't come back." He says, "Don't worry...I won't!" And leaves, slamming the door.

8:45 PM - Lock all doors and crumple into a heap and cry for the lost marriage, his mental illness, his disease, that he's said he wants to die and I fear he might do something, etc.

10:30 PM - Feed Liam and get into bed.

2:00 AM - Pounding at the door. My mother lets him in. Tells him to go sleep in the playroom. I am awake now, writing this all down and listening to the sounds of him stumble around and probably puking. I want to die, too. This is too hard, God. I can't believe this is my life. I really truly can't.

UPDATE:
So he banged around all night and stomped and raved and slammed doors and put a hole in the wall...he kept me and my mom awake until 5AM when he finally passed out...I guess.

Slept until 6:30 when Elena got up. At 7:30, Patrick got up, came downstairs crying and still raving...all the time I kept thinking about the full moon and the origin of the word lunatic...and finally he crossed a line. I have always wanted to kill people, he said.

I dialed 911 and was a typical, hysterical 911 call.
Them: Are there children in the house?
Me: SOBBING LOUDLY...YES, YES THERE IS A BABY!!
Them: Can you take the baby and leave the house?
Me: YES!
Locked myself in the car. They came and took him away. He's going to be at the hospital...it's over now. I am so relieved and tragically torn up. Maybe this will make for good "fiction" later. I just can't believe my life has disintegrated to such a state.