This is a flashback to "I Don't Like Myself Very Much...But I am All I Ever Think About." I get crazy when I'm watching a movie that has flashbacks and I get lost. I usually turn to my wife and ask in an uneasy tone 'Is this NOW or then?!" She shoots back a wry smile acknowledging that she is aware that I hate flashback films but should shut up and let her enjoy it.
I have jumped around in telling my story of addiction, hope, faith and recovery. I thought that I needed to share some hope after laying out a lot of pain. I have had more feedback on my addiction stories than my "life philosophy," I see the connection between the two, but pain is juicy, hope only warm and fuzzy.
I have had lots of crushes and have been in love a few times. I adore my wife Kris more and more with each passing day and had 3 failed marriages before meeting her. This blog will obviously not veer off into "how to meet the perfect mate." I do know that I hurt a lot of women and some hurt me. All knew I had addiction issues but I was able to convince, or con, them into dating or marrying me anyway.
My first wife was, and is, beautiful, funny and kind hearted. Looking back at the courtship and marriage, after 18 years, I have a clearer idea as to what was wrong from the start and why the marriage was doomed from the beginning. The courtship was stormy and lurched along for 2 years. She left me after just 4 months of marriage. She knew I drank too much. Like lots of people, she didn't realize how bad it was.
When we lived together I would walk to the corner for a paper and a bottle nightly. I would chug the bottle on the short walk back. After arriving home I would thumb through the paper and promptly announce that I needed the "other" paper and repeat my booze cruise again. There were hidden bottles and strange trips I had to take. Sometimes I would say I needed to "clear my head and go for a walk." The trip wasn't to clear my head. It was to check out of it. I would repeat this over and over until the day I arrived home to find our apartment cleaned out. Ah! More reasons to justify continuing the insanity.
I had an opportunity to talk to her in the last year and apologize and clear the air about the past. I can not say that she has forgiven me but she didn't stab me when we spoke. She is still as cool as ever and is touching a lot of people's lives in amazing ways. I am grateful that I had that opportunity.
My second wife was much younger than me. She also knew I was alcoholic but thought she could save me. We had very little in common. Personal tragedy and pain was the tie that bound us together. During a short whirlwind hook-up I got her pregnant. A pre-existing medical condition made it impossible for her to conceive. But I got her pregnant! It was divine intervention as far as I was concerned. So we married quickly and set up house. I married her to "do the right thing" and raise our miracle baby. The child would snap me out of my alcoholic fog and make me a responsible, sober man. We were "in love". She lost our child shortly after we were wed.
My drinking and drug use spun out of control. I was now mixing speed with weed and booze to be able to use more. She threw me out after about 5 months. I have tried to reach out to her but have been unsuccessful. The time isn't right now and I pray for the day when we can talk about those times and apologize for my obnoxious behavior. I know how sick I was inside but the outside world only saw the destruction and anger I left in my wake.
My third wife and I met at a singles dance. She needed a green card and I needed a child. We never lived together more than a few days at a time and I got her pregnant about 3 weeks after we met. In my "do the right thing" alcoholic morality, I married her. I remember taking her to the doctor for her first ultrasound. I was giddy and proud to be there. As I stood by the monitor I could see MY baby's amazing tiny head, hands and feet. The only thing missing from the most beautiful thing I had ever seen was a heartbeat. After a few moments and several doctor/nurse whispery consultations, they confirmed that the baby was dead.
I was 32 and I had been married 3 times in 6 years. I had lost two children and I was pissed at God and the world. How could he do this to me? He knew I wanted so badly to be a daddy. This is when my homeless period began or continued. We were absolutely toxic to each other. We married as a business deal, i.e, green card her, baby me. The relationship did end but I ended up getting her pregnant again. The marriage would never have worked but she gave me one of my greatest gifts.
Kelly was born in January 2000. She has her old man's zest for life but didn't get my schnoz. Thank God! She is brilliant. I am not just saying that because she is mine. Her grades confirm it. I was sober the day she was born. I held her at the hospital and was alcohol free for the first 5 years of her life. I support her mother and see her when I can. It is still complicated but I get through it a day at a time with God's help and guidance. I couldn't get through it or anything anymore without him.
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