the fall of hell, Pt 2
During my stay in the hospital, several things happened. It was hard enough to get myself to go in. I knew that things had been really hard for the whole week, and I had gotten to the point where I couldn’t really concentrate in school, and was not wanting to do anything to take care of myself or Mark, and things had generally just crashed around my head. Yet I still felt like I really needed to stay out of the hospital just because it would be hard on Mark, partially because he would have a hard time without me, but also because I didn’t feel comfortable asking people to care for him. Spence was easy, he could go to his Dad’s.
But the day before I finally got in to the hospital I went for an intake at the clinic where I’d been before (don’t you just love bouncing between insurance companies?). I had to do a new intake because since I’d been on my college insurance they had closed the case in the 9 mos I hadn’t been there. So I go for the intake, and I can’t stop crying. The man who interviewed me almost didn’t let me leave. He kept saying that I would be no good to anyone dead, which I already knew. And I wasn’t intent on suicide. I had no desire to kill myself, and knew in my heart that I would get through it. But I also had no desire to live, and didn’t see any way out of the hole I’d fallen into. I was in total despair with no way out. But with the promise that I wouldn’t take action to take my own life, which I knew wouldn’t happen, since I would never leave my children, I was able to walk out.
But things got worse that day after the intake. I felt like I kept falling deeper and deeper and the light that had been barely shining from the top had disappeared, taking any thread of hope with it. I still was adament about not taking my life, but I saw nothing but depression in front of me, and constant thoughts of being homeless and completely without the means to stop it only continued to deepen it.
So the next morning on my way to catch the train for class, I made the decision that I needed help to find my way. And I called Melissa to watch Mark, Laura to help by taking care of the landlord, and Sally to help where she could. It was a lot to ask of Melissa to watch Mark for an indeterminate amount of time. She doesn’t have kids, she had work and school, and had never had kids. On a positive note she was used to my house, I totally trusted her, and Mark loves her. She could stay at my house, and keep him as close to his routine as possible to keep him as stable as possible.
That is where the drama comes in.
Mark’s father had left the state back in the spring, and since then contact had been sporadic. He had at one point before the hurricane moved to New Orleans. I really didn’t have any idea where he was for sure, and had no phone number for contact. He had just recently commited to calling Mark every Saturday at 10am, and I had commited that if Mark wasn’t going to be here I would do my best to rearrange it. I went into the hospital on a Thursday. That day before I left I used the one means of communication I had to let him know that Mark might not be available on Sat. I thought with Melissa at home Thursday night he might be able to call him then. So I used IM to let him know offline that he could try that night, and might not be able to reach him on Saturday. I did not give him details of why, I still don’t believe it was his business.
Unfortunately, Melissa didn’t feel comfortable answering my phone that evening so she missed that call. An immediate email was sent to me by the ex. Of course, I didn’t get any of his emails until I got home a week later, but the details are all ingrained in my mind, probably forever.
This first was tremendous hateful accusing me of running away for the weekend with a lover. First of all, that too would not be his business, but was so far away from the reality it was unbelievable. The second part dealt with how I had talked about how I was so desparate for money, and since I had the money to go have fun all weekend, I obviously didn’t need any from him. That was pretty much it. But it really sucked. And things didn’t end there.
That email was written on Friday.
On Saturday morning before 7 am, he called my house. And without thinking Melissa answered the phone. At the other end was an irrational and out of control rageful man who threaten her with everything from coming to get Mark, to calling CPS, to charging her with kidnapping and arriving with Arapahoe Sherriff’s department, to storming into the hospital and everything else his irrational mind could think of. Melissa had never had to deal with anything even close to that and it completely devastated her, and put her in a panic. She of course called me at which point I completely freaked, and insisted I had to leave. I was in a panic myself thinking he would come all the way up here and take Mark from me and leave state. Since we were not divorced yet, he could basically legally do anything he wanted.
Just then the social worker walked into the hospital. He took me into his office and worked to calm me down, assuring me that we could work things out and that did not include me leaving the hospital. He assured me that CPS would laugh at his complaints since Mark was in a safe place with a caring individual who was completely capable of taking care of him. In fact, his Dad wrote in a later email that one of his first calls had been to Texas CPS and they had basically laughed at him as well, giving him his first clue that maybe he was out of control. Then we called Melissa and worked with her. The social worker assured her that there was nothing he could do from a distance. That left the matter of what to do should he really try to come up here. Even had we not suggested that Mark go to a safe place where he wouldn’t be found, Melissa was unable to stay in my home for the rest of my hospital stay. She was just too scared of him showing up. And she was completely convinced that it would either get violent or he would try to involve police. She was also very concerned for Mark’s well being and that it would not be served by the histronics of his father.
So Melissa had to yank Mark out of his home and familliar surroundings, keep him from his weekly routine of going to church that Sunday, or to campfire that night, and to worry about him while he was at school. We of course had put the school on extra alert, but legally had he ever showed up, there was nothing they could do. So there was a constant state of anxiety for all of us while Mark was in school. At night he stayed at Melissa’s house, where he would not be found. As the days wore on, (I was in the hospital for a week), he got tired of their house, Melissa just got exhausted from taking care of him while continuing her normal routine, as well as being completely a wreck. I’m not sure she has ever completely recovered.
What makes me the maddest about the whole incident was his utter lack of ability to be able to act in Mark’s best interest. In his uncontrolled rage he acted without thought to completely panic Mark’s caregiver. By doing so, he made it so that Mark could not stay in familiar surroundings or keep his regular routine.
He tried very hard to defend himself by saying that any parent would have reacted the same by finding out that Mark’s mom (me) was in the hospital. But it was simply one more instance of what had been his pattern for the majority of our relationship. Whenever anything happened, he reacted with his emotions (almost always uncontrolled rage), lashed out and acted out hurting those around him, and then after some time had passed, after some reflection realized he’d made mistakes and would apologize. I know that the apologies were sincere. My problem with it was that he never worked to change that pattern. In 13 years, he acted out destructively and then tried to take it back. I agree that every parent might have felt that way, my problem was with his actions. Without thinking he did the worst things he could have to help Mark, or to help me be stable for Mark.
What’s more, the pattern was so clear to me because I have distance and have had time to reflect on the patterns of destructiveness in our relationship. Further, it has made me incredibly sad to see those same patterns acted out by my 2 older sons, over and over again. They learned how to deal with things through that example, and thus not deal with them at all. I can only hope over time and with help from me and their father (my three oldest were from my first husband) we can undo those patterns and help them to be healthier.
I do not doubt that any parent in that situation would have felt the same as he did. Helpless, angry, concerned, scared. His son was without his mother, his mother was in the hospital, and things were completely stressful for him. But a healthy adult would not have acted in the way in which he did. I’m bipolar and crazy sometimes, and even I would not have considered doing what he did.
So ends part 2 of my fall of hell. More to come later.
