Watch Those Elbows

Well, I beat him up last night… in my sleep. 

When I got home, I immediately sat down and started playing a video game.  I played for over three hours, so we didn’t really even talk to each other.  He was drinking (of course), and at one point, he disappeared into the kitchen for a good five minutes.  I couldn’t hear anything, but when he came back the stentch of Jack was undeniable.  I didn’t say anything about it.

After the game, we just sat around and watched TV, and we both fell asleep on opposite ends of the couch.  I got up sometime around 10:30, took a valium, kissed him on the head, and went to bed.  I didn’t wake him up to get in the bed because I thought I might actually get some rest if I went to bed alone.  I immediately passed out and started having a nightmare.  Apparently, I was moaning and kicking, and I woke up to his silhouette standing at the foot of the bed staring at me.  It scared the hell out of me.  I gasped and sat straight up in bed.

He asked me what I was doing, but I was still kind of out of it.  He had heard me moaning and came to check on me.  I told him I was having a nightmare, but then he asked me if I was masturbating.  What?  I told him no, and he asked me how long I’d been in the bed.  I said that I guessed I’d been in there about a half hour but I wasn’t really sure.  Hell, I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.  Then he got kind of angry and said, "No.  It’s been about three minutes.  Why would you say that?  Why would you say you’ve been in here a half hour when it’s only been a few minutes?"  What difference it made, I don’t know, but I honestly didn’t know how long I’d been in there.

He walked out of the room and walked right back in about a minute later.  "You know what I think?  I think you were masturbating, didn’t hear me come in, then got startled when you opened your eyes and saw me at the foot of the bed."  It was like he was attacking me.  I got pissy and blurted out, "Are you retarded?  Do you want to come smell my fucking fingers?"  Ha…

Anyway, I fell back asleep and starting having the dream again.  I don’t remember anything about it, but I woke up to him shaking me, telling me to calm down.  My heart was pounding, and I made him feel my chest.  I felt like I had to prove that I really was dreaming.  He asked me if I wanted him to come to bed, and I said yes.  I fell right back asleep, and I don’t remember him coming in.

Around 4:30 this morning, he quickly got out of bed and started putting clothes on.  It woke me up, and I asked him where he was going.  He said that I elbowed him in the gut.  He went into the bathroom and slammed the door.  Through the door, he mumbled, "Damn it, that fucking hurt."  He didn’t come back to bed, and I didn’t get up to check on him.

This morning, before getting in the bath, I went into the kitchen to make coffee.  He woke up and told me what had happened.  He had gotten up for something in the middle of the night.  When he was getting back in the bed, he draped his arm over me.  I shoved his arm off and rolled away from him.  He then tried to pull me up to him to spoon me.  I apparently shoved my elbow in his stomach and yelled, "No, I don’t want you!"  Then I rolled over and moaned someone else’s name — a coworker’s.  This is the coworker that I immediately befriended when I started working here, and Bobby knows him.  He already thinks I’m cheating on him because I don’t want to have sex.  This is certainly going to help.  Note the sarcasm in my typing.

I apologized and told him not to take my words and actions personally because I always talk in my sleep.  I’m surprised that he hasn’t already had to deal with it.  I’ve gotten semi-violent in my sleep with all of my previous boyfriends.  I told him to get back in the bed, but he said no.   Said he was going to wash the sheets.  I asked him why, and he said that I also yelled at him that the sheets were dirty when he first got in the bed.  I remember none of this.  I told him that he really didn’t have to wash them and that I was just hallucinating.  As soon as I turned my bath water off, though, I heard the washer start up.

After that, he was super nice to me this morning.  He kept trying to distract me from getting ready for work.  He was trying to take my robe off, kissing my neck.  He mentioned that since it’s Friday, we get to sleep in tomorrow morning, and we can stay up all night.  Told me that he would make me pass out from endorphines, but then followed with, "If you’ll let me."  He told me to watch my elbows as I walked out the door for work.

I swear, I think he’s bipolar.  This should be an interesting weekend.

In associated news, he has changed his MySpace profile picture.  It is now a picture of thirty-one empty bottles of alcohol (mostly Jack) that he, himself, drank.  Yes, my honey really knows how to turn me on.

The following are Alsie’s responses to my email.  Her responses are bold, and the first is just an initial email to let me know she read my message.  I knew she would be a good person to talk to because her mom is an AA success story.  She’s been sober for seventeen years now.  I called her on my way home for a quick chat.  Her mom says that if I think he has a problem, then he more than likely does.

Okay, I have a very long response to this message, so I’m gonna have to send it when I get back. But, you ARE NOT, in any way, responsible for his moving to Co.! He is a grown man who is capable of making his own decisions. Although you played a part in it, ulitimately, the decision was his to make. Please don’t feel responsible for that! So, you are not obligated to stick anything out!!

Secondly, Tammy is not a very good person for you to talk to about this, because of her feelings toward him. I think those feelings stem from the relationship that the three of you had. It is over, and I’m sure that the biggest part of her is jealous. This is jealousy speaking…HELLO!!!

Okay, so I’m going to type more when I get back, so sit tight! I love you sooo much!!!!!! I’m soooo glad that you’ve talked to me about this. I felt like something was up with you, but didn’t know what.

When he and I first started dating, I knew that he occasionally smoked pot. And those were his words. "Occasionally." The only time I ever saw him do it was if we had gone out and he was buzzed or if he was with other friends that did it. Well, when he got here, he brought a huge jar of weed with him. He smoked every single day, usually more than once a day. He kept saying that he used to do it alot, told me all these stories about getting stoned in high school, then followed with, "I’m definitely not a pothead." It was like he was trying to convince me. The only reason he’s not smoking now is because he doesn’t know anyone here to buy it from. And I know he’s tried</

em> to find some since he’s been here.

If he is smoking that much, he may not have a ‘problem’, but he is definitely what I would call a "pot head".

I also think he’s addicted to Hydrocodone. He was a soccer player growing up, and I know he’s had some back and neck injuries. I understand that. He’s tried therapy, but he says it was stupid and didn’t do any good. His doctor won’t fill his prescription anymore (because his doctor also thinks he’s addicted and has flat out told him that), so he’s resorted to buying Hydros over the internet. There’s a bottle of about 200 sitting on my coffee table right now. He takes one every single night. Who knows? He probably takes them during the day, too. This is the second bottle he’s gotten since he’s been here. He never complains about being in pain until he takes a pill and I ask him about it. Suddenly, his neck is hurting, oh, so bad. Again, he follows this with, "I know people addicted to this shit. I’m glad I’m not. I can stop taking them whenever I want." Spoken like a true substance abuser.

That IS spoken like a true substance abuser. If his doctor has told him that he thinks that he is addicted, there is a very good chance that he is. If someone takes any type of substance like that daily: pills, weed, alcohol, I would say that they have a problem. Obviously he needs them to be able to function (in Bobby land)…. I will tell you that hydrocodones can become a very expensive habit. You know that I went through this with Chris. Once you take them on a regular basis, they are like any other substance, where you build up a tolerance to them. If you get a prescription from your doctor, you may pay $5 copay with insurance. But, those fuckers are super high on the internet!!

And then there’s the alcohol. Alsie, I can’t even begin to tell you how much this boy drinks. He goes through about 3 fifths of Tuaca in a week. I usually drink a couple a bottles of wine during the week with dinner, and any of it I don’t finish, he drinks. He goes through a few cases of beer a week, and a bottle of Jack lasts about two. And it’s not like he’s just drinking one thing at a time. Three bottles of Tuaca, wine, a few cases of beer, and a half bottle of Jack all in a week. He may even be drinking more than that. I know he’s been drinking all day while I’m at work, so who knows what I’m not seeing. He goes to the liquor store every single day. Last night he came home with another bottle of Tuaca, a bottle of vodka, and a bottle of chocolate liqueur. After dinner he asked me if I wanted a chocolate martini. I said no, that I was fine, and in the kitchen under his breath, he mumbled, "I figured as such." Why the fuck would he say something like that? It was like he was angry that I didn’t want a drink.

I can’t tell you what that did to me when I read the part about him being pissy b/c you didn’t want a drink. My mom told me a similar story from when she was drinking. She used to get so mad at my dad if he didn’t want to drink. It made her feel like she didn’t have a problem if he would drink. If he didn’t want to, it made her feel as though he was judging her for doing it. Spoken like a true alcoholic. I don’t need to tell you that, that is an excessive amount of alcohol (on top of the pills, weed, and who knows what else). And, you are right, you are at work all day and you don’t know how much he drinks, etc.

Last night, we were watching an episode of Desperate Housewives. This is during the period that Bree was realizing she was an alcoholic. He went on a tyrade about how stupid AA is! He kept calling it a cult because of the fact they use religious beliefs to set people straight. I knew he had been to AA. He was busted with pot several years ago, and that was part of his ‘punishment’. Well, he told me last night that he’s been to five different AA groups. Twice he went of his own volition. Then he told some hour-long, horrid story about going off in one of the groups about how it’s just wrong to mix a support group with religion. He said that his "words were so powerful for this one pregnant girl, that she became stressed out over it and had a miscarriage." He said this like he was proud of it!

You don’t even want to get me started on AA…you know that that program saved my mother’s life and I will forever be grateful for the 12 steps of alcoholics anonymous. I do know (through 17 years experience) that the program CAN and WILL work if you truly have a desire to become clean. And, no, the program does not, in any way, try to push religion off onto anyone. I don’t have a big book sitting in front of me at the moment, but I do know that you are to find a god of ‘your own understanding’. He obvisouly doesn’t understand what ‘your own understanding’ means…this could pertain to anything from Christ, Buddah, even the fucking grass or the tress, Rachel!!! The 12 steps can apply to anyone, with any problem in life, not just alcoholism. He obvisouly did not attempt to work or understand the steps.

He also becomes a complete hypochondriac when he drinks. One night at around two in the morning, he came in the bedroom hammered, talking about how he thinks he has insomnia and it really worries him. It went on for an hour. Well, I don’t have insomnia, and I wanted to fucking sleep! Hello! I have a job. I have to get up at six in the morning. Speaking of sleep, I actually haven’t been getting much of it. I have no trouble falling alseep, but I can’t stay that way. He stays up till four or five in the morning playing Halo on his 360. He gets pissed off if he loses and screams at the TV (which of course wakes me up). Then he comes to bed drunk, gets up to hurl in the middle of the night, and does crazy things in his sleep that keep me up. I’ve resorted to Valium the last couple of nights just to try to get a good night’s sleep. Even that didn’t work.

This is just straight up disrespectful to you. You have a full time job. You need rest to be able to function properly during the day. He has a blatant disregard for this, and that pisses me off.  And, if he is constantly throwing up from alcholol….HELLO….quit drinking so fucking much! Sounds simple, doesn’t it. Well, for alcoholics and addicts, it isn’t. They are powerless, have no control, and can’t help it.

Oh, so back to the hypochondria. Just a couple nights ago (while drunk, of course), he decided that this mole on his stomach just must be cancer. He decided to call his doctor… in Chattanooga. It was midnight here meaning it was 2am there. One of his nurses answered. She was at home in the bed with her husband, and she understandbly asked him if it was an emergency. Fuck, it’s not like she can do anything about a mole that he suddenly thinks is malignant over the phone. Besides, she’s 1400 miles away! Are you fucking kidding me? Anyway, she told him she’d have the doc call him in the morning. Bobby got so pissed off! Kept ranting about how inconsiderate she was. I said, "Well, you do realize it’s two in the morning there, right?" He just looked at me like I was stupid and said, "I don’t fucking care! This is her job!"

Anyone knows that a doctor (most of the time) is not just going to call you something in. You are going to have to make an appointment so that they can evaluate you. And, he was partly correct, she IS doing her job….

We haven’t had sex in over a week, and he’s certainly noticed. He told me last night that it makes him wonder if I even find him attractive. Then he made some catty comment while watching Desperate Housewives (trying to integrate it with the show rather than look like he’s making a point about our relationship) that if a woman won’t have sex with you it’s because she’s getting it from somewhere else. I didn’t feel like that comment even deserved a response, so I ignored it. Truth is, no, I’m not attracted to him when he reeks of alcohol. He sucks in bed when he’s drunk, and he unintentionally hurts me. He’s heavy, and when he’s drunk, he can’t even support himself on top of me. He accidentally head butts me, and one night he backhanded me trying to reach for a bottle of KY. If I get on top of him, he just fucking lays there. And he wonders why I haven’t felt ‘sexual’ in the last week.

I don’t blame you one bit for not wanting or not having the desire to have sex with him. No one wants to feel like a fucking blow up doll, who is there to be fucked. I know that you like "fucking". Who doesn’t? But, we are women, we have feelings and emotions, and need to feel loved and desired from time to time. How is that possible when he is staggering drunk and can’t even perform?!?!?!

He never stops talking. I can’t even get through an entire TV show without pausing or rewinding it because I missed something that was said. He still doesn’t have a job and doesn’t seem too serious about trying to find one. He yells at my cats. This morning, he, in his own words, "smacked the shit out of Elvis" for eating a plant. I heard poor Elvis yelp and run out of the bedroom. Pissed me off.

That shit would get on anyone’s nerves, buddy. And, as far as the cat thing goes, those are like your children, and he knows that. He best watch his fucking step around them. I understand these things irritating you, they would me, too.

Oh, and when he’s not ranting about nonsense, he’s emotional. The sappiness is getting on my every last nerve. He tells me he loves me 500 million times a day. You know I’m not like that. That word loses all meaning to me when it’s thrown around so often. This morning, I kissed him goodbye. As I was walking out the door, he said, "Uh, I love you…" He said it in a tone like, "I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you loved me before you walked out." I’ll be trying to watch a TV show or something, and he’ll turn around, put his head on my shoulder, and just stare at me. And it’s not in the loving way like he used to. Now he does it with his eyes real wide, bugging out. It’s actually kind of creepy. Again, this is only when he’s been drinking — which is pretty much always. He doesn’t act so weird first thing in the morning when he’s sober. 

I feel the same way. The word "love" is thrown around and used to loosely. After a while, it starts to feel meaningless. I understand that. Jeff was the same way and it got on my DAMN nerves! Uh, yeah, that would creep me out…

Why didn’t I see all this before? Was he that good at hiding it? Do you think that I’m just being silly or is there reason for my concern? I feel like I’ve been duped. I don’t know what to do. This boy quit his job, packed up his (very few) belongings, and drove 1400 miles to be with me. And I’m partially responsible for pushing him to move here! I feel like I should stick it out and see what happens, but I also feel like I might go insane if I do!

You didn’t see all of this before because you didn’t live with him. It’s not so easy to hide your faults when you actually live with someone. And, if he doesn’t realize that he has a problem, why would he bring it up to you? To him, this behavior is normal. And, like I said before, you are not responsible for his moving there. Please do not feel that way. You need to make your descions based on Rachel’s happiness, not Bobby’s. I’ve seen you do that too many times before. You’ve stayed with people because you didn’t want to hurt them. And, I feel that resentment will be the end result if you do.

I just feel like this whole thing was a mistake. I followed my heart instead of my head, and I think my heart’s playing a cruel joke on me. It’s hard to believe that someone I care so much about has gotten to me so bad that I’m not even sad about the situation. I’m just irritated.

*Sigh* I’m sorry this was such a long email, but I really needed to get these things off my chest. I can’t talk to Tammy about it, either, because she never liked him in the first place. She thinks he’s a dork, and I every time I mention him, she makes a hacking sound like she has a hairball. She said that if I were still living in Nashville, he never would’ve stood a chance with me. She thinks that the only reason I fell for him was because I was lonely and away from my friends. Was I really that blinded? I wish I could talk to you about all this over the phone, but I’m sure you see why I couldn’t call you about it before. Your thoughts?

I’ve already told you what I think about Tammy. And, I’m sure that the same thoughts has come to your mind, as well. I don’t think the only reason that you fell for him was b/c you were lonely and away from your friends. You had lots of different dates with a lot of different guys. If that was the case, you would have fallen for the first one who showed interest in you. Thats just my opinion. I know you better than that, dude….

If you don’t mind, I’m going to let me mom read this e-mail and see what she thinks. You know she won’t say anything to anyone. But, I would really like for her to see this!! I’m so sorry that things are turning out this way, buddy. But, I am grateful that you are seeing these things now, rather than later. I know that you wanted things to work out, but sometimes, after spending a lot of time with someone, you just realize that you are different people. There isn’t anything wrong with that and you have no reason to feel bad. And, he needs to get a mother fucking JOB! I understand that he has some money put back, but with these expensive habits that he has, it isn’t going to last long, and you are going to be the one footing the bills…..again…..

Well, as they say on my favorite radio station, there’s your daily dose of the duh.  Hope you all have a fan-fucking-tastic weekend!

Cheers,
Felina