Like a Violin

I think I'm being played.

Or he's dying. 

I'm not sure. 

The man in the basement asked me to stick around for the sake of the kids.  Our marriage has been troubled since '99, when his mother threw a fit about my college education. 

We've slept apart since '07. 

I'm lonely and in pain. 

In '08, he lost his job.  Apparently he paid a bribe to his tax auditor boss (at the urging of the city attorney) in order to keep it. After stealing money from a loan account (money borrowed to pay for  education) to pay the $500 bribe,  I stopped trusting him.

In September of '08, after a pep-talk from my high school sweetheart, I took what little money was left from that account and started my own business in an attempt to support the family and work around every one's schedule. 

Things got violent in the interim.  I wanted to leave and tried saving money or the lawyer.  He left several times only to be allowed to come back when I found out he was sleeping in the car.  He typed up lists of promises (to help with the house, to let me work, to get therapy, etc) that have never come to fruition. 

In September '10, he took a job which he claimed promised him a salary of nearly $50,000.  The hours were identical to those I worked and the kids were refusing to do their homework.  He gave me an ultimatum; neglect the kids or give up your job.  He was going to take the job no matter what. 

Fast forward a year later, I found out that our credit cards are maxed out, he's raided our retirement and his $50,000 per year job pays only $18,000. 

I was crushed. 

Don't get me wrong.  I don't expect men to bring home the bacon unless they directly interfere with my ability to get the job done.  If they mess around with my business, my reputation, or my ability to hold down a job then they ought to support me until I can get back on my feet. 


In early November, after being asked to get on food stamps and do free community service to earn them, he told me that they gave him the job they promised paying between $45-$50,000 per year.  He had to change his hours immediately and they would backdate the contract.  I'll spare you my rant after being called lazy by a welfare tech.  I don't believe we ever qualified for public assistance in the first place. 

The belief that poor people have no work ethic astounds me.  Crap, the welfare worker was late to our appointment!  I wasn't.  Geez!  They promised me help find work...nope, they want to put barriers in the way of women finding work.  Right now, the county social service office works as a demotivational tool for people trying to get back on their feet.  I vow to take care of that once things are settled here.  Any politician who ignores it is going to get skewered...trust me on that. 

I found paperwork that says that he's still making minimum wage.  His employer will pay him minimum wage to continue doing that position until at least mid-January. 

If he wants to work it out with me, why would he lie?

It gets worse.  All of the accounts that I have access to are dry.  He wants me to be a housewife, yet I cannot access any funds for groceries, cleaning supplies, haircuts, clothing for kiddos, Christmas gifts or anything. 

For three years, I have had no access to the family money.  I've had little access to the credit for several months.  I can spend the few dollars that I am making on Ebay.  I feel incredibly guilty for taking time away from work around the house to list my junk. 

I'm selling everything I can.  I'm down to one bass guitar (one worth next to nothing that I keep for sentimental reasons).  If you knew me, you'd know that means I'm really in the poorhouse. 

Here's the rub.  There is a missing $18,000 in an account somewhere.  He promised that if I stayed to help him with the kids that he would split it with me to pay for my education and make up for the money he took. 

Nope, he can't do that now.  He tells me that there is $10,000 and that he'll put my name on the account when he makes time to do that.   He's been saying that for months. 

Things are getting worse that that. 

He's gained another 100 pounds and I'd put his weight near 450.  He can't breathe.  He turns red when he's walking around.  I'm terrified he's going to die.

Even if Cupid got me with a golden arrow, I'd be to terrified to show him physical love for fear he'd keel over. 

I'm not trying to complain.  I hesitated to type this out but it will serve a purpose if something happens to me.  People will know what is going on.  It will also serve as a cautionary tale for other women. 

I don't think he's working 14 hour days. 

I don't think there ever was a $50,000 per year job.

I don't know if there is another woman. 

I think he's hiding assets in anticipation of divorce and using me to squeeze free services from in the interim. 

I think nothing and no one should ever interfere with a woman's ability to work, ever. 

I still am afraid for his health.  I can't describe what I see. It's bad.  I've asked him to take some of that $17,000 and connect with  a bariatric physician.  He's refused. 



I'm scared.

Sorry this is short.   I'm at a loss and trying to make some sense of this. 



She ran around telling stories about me.  Her brother got involved and told my husband to stay away until he and I divorced.  I was not allowed to visit them during any holidays yet they took the fact that I didn't show up as proof that I didn't love my husband or respect his family.  We'd get calls from his relatives chastizing my behavior day and night.  They drove my husband insane. 

My husband ran out on me when I was five months pregnant.  He did come back but we've never recovered.  Our communication has suffered immensely. 


He needs his family more than he needs me. 

I've stopped counting the number of months since I've been a woman; I now mark my celibacy in years.   

This isn't healthy.  It is probably beyond repair. 

Is it wrong to wish to find someone to love?  or should I continue to be as loyal as I can to someone who is obviously using me? 


I wish I had a friend I could trust right now.  If I called my lawyer, he'd tell me to find another $3,000 and stop allowing the man in the basement to play me like a violin. 

Love,

S.

It's been twelve hourse since my rant.  I've been thinking about it all day. 

I'll never understand what the heck happened.  I can turn it over in my mind but it won't matter. 

It boils down to getting caught up in someone else's dysfunctional family.  It has nothing to do with me. 

And, maybe this is what happens when men hit their mid-thirties, they freak out.  He's in his mid-forties now, maybe he's almost done with the crazy stuff..

maybe....

if I give him a little more space...

he'll find what he needs.  I need to do what I did with his mother, ignore the antics and go about taking care of my responsibilities. 

I need to earn a wage that can support a household.  I need to get the household in good enough repair to resell, so that is what I'll concentrate on doing. 

Tomorrow, I'll babysit during the day and then get a book on bathroom tile repair.  If he can't fix it, I will.  How hard can it be? 

We'll see.

Love,

S.