The unraveling of a man

I’m not exactly sure how it started. So many years and events have gone by. So many bitter words spoken, it’s hard to pinpoint one event or one moment to blame it on. The point is, that in my (and many other people’s) opinion, my ex-husband Joe is a P.O.S.  Now I know you must be thinking, well you married him. Yup, I did. I was foolish back then, but I did know how to spot an asshole, and would NOT have deliberately married one. As all people do, he changed.

I met Joe when I was 16. Actually, the first time I talked to him on the phone, ever, was my 16^th birthday. My friend was dating his friend and his friend wanted to know if she had a friend for his friend. Silly, but that’s how it went. He was a “chollo”. I had no interest in “chollos” because I was a white-washed 16 year old, who only had eyes for blond haired, blue-eyed skater/surfer boys. I kind of blew this guy off. It was my birthday, and I was busy. I didn’t end up meeting him until a month or two later. Ugh! I thought he was SO freaking ugly. He had the worst acne ever! And he wore too much cologne, which gagged me. After we met, I wanted nothing to do with him. But he kept calling me and I guess he wore me down. He was nice to me and wanted to hang out with me. The clincher; he had alcohol and pot available. At the age of 16, that’s pretty inviting.

What did I see in him? At first he was fun to hang out with. He had no parental supervision. His mom dies when he was 13, and his dad was too busy reliving his own childhood to worry about the kids he left home alone. He had use of a car, so we went places. He was fun to be around. Always joking, always the life of the party. My home-life sucked, and this is why I gravitated toward him.

He had big talk of big plans for bit things. In my 16 year old naïve mind, it was all possible. He made me believe it was possible. Then shit got real. I got pregnant at 17 years old. He was already 18 and out of high school, which he didn’t graduate from. My whole pregnancy, he didn’t work. He lived with his dad, rent free, and had no other obligations. All he had for our coming child was excuses. In the hospital, after I had the baby, he didn’t even hold him. He ran off with his friend as soon as he could get out the door with lies about some day-labor job, that he later said he never got paid for. Right.

We moved in together on money I had from a lawsuit trust fund. He did finally find work, and we agreed that I would stay home. He became verbally abusive and belittled me constantly. He called me lazy and basically a financial leach for staying home with the baby. I went to work when the baby was 3 months old because I couldn’t handle all the crap he told me.  Within a few months, I was making more than he was. The first time I threw it in his face, he lost his shit. He criticized me for changing jobs to make more money. He called me a bad mother for going to work and putting our son in daycare. No matter what I did, it was never good enough.

His pot habit got worse, as did his spending on that and other things like expensive sports jerseys, video games, CD’s and eating out with his friends.  We were married and we had a joint account which he drained the day a deposit went in. Many times, it was overdrawn before I even woke up in the morning. He never had an answer for where the money went. He would get defensive, like how dare I question him. Almost, like I owed him. He manipulated me into thinking that if he bought things, it would make him happy. WE would be happy. But we weren’t. The more I made, the more I had to work and be away from home. The more I made, the more he talked shit, and the more he spent.  We were a family of 3, making $70K a year, and we were broke.  We rarely had phone service, our electricity was cut off, often. Most of our electronics and even wedding rings were in pawn. Pretty much everything they would give us cash for was in pawn. We depended on my parents to buy us groceries. He counted on it because he knew they wouldn’t let me and their grandson starve. All the while he wouldn’t stop spending, and had no explanation for where the money went. Eviction notices were a monthly occurrence for us.

I had finally had enough of living this way. I decided to take charge and stop my direct deposit and get a physical check. I cashed it and had my male cousin hold on to it. He escorted me home when I picked up my then, 6 year old son. Angry was an understatement for what Joe was. He shoved me up against a wall when my cousin wasn’t looking. He pounded his fists against the car. I took my son and got the heck out of there. That was the first time he had ever laid a hand on me. After that I moved in with my parents, and didn’t talk to him for 2 months. All the while, I had filed for divorce and child support. My son was miserable. He cried himself to sleep every night because his dad never called. We finally saw him in court, and I just couldn’t continue that way. My heart was breaking for my son. He wanted his dad back. And Joe promised us the moon and the stars. He said he was sober and had changed and would do better. And I fucked up. I believed him.

We went back. A few months later I was pregnant with our daughter. Things actually went well and he kept his word until shortly after she was born. Then money started disappearing again. He would empty a full tank of gas overnight with no explanation. He came home from work smelling like chemicals with the excuse that they had to use bleach to sterilize something. 3 months into the calendar year, he was already out of vacation time at work. He borrowed money from his family on made up excuses of doctors visits and car trouble. Then on pay day they would come to me for the money to be repaid. We even had our car, or I should say MY car, repossessed. We ended up getting a title loan on it to move back in together, and he would spend the money from the account before the loan payment would clear. He always felt like it wasn’t a big deal, or that someone would bail us out. He just didn’t care.

Again, I had had enough. I made a plan to leave, and told him I was leaving. I guess he didn’t think I’d follow through, but I did. Just before I left, he admitted that he’d been using meth, and had our newborn daughter around that. That’s where a good amount of the money went. I found out on my own, that when we split up, he started dating a girl who lived 3 hours away. That’s where all our gas, and his days off went. Oh, and he took her out on my paycheck pretty often too. I was done, I was done, I was done, and never looking back.

He didn’t want me to leave, but didn’t give me a reason to stay. I didn’t love him and couldn’t force myself to believe his lies anymore. He was always good to the kids when we lived together, so when he promised to see the kids often and to help me support them, stupid me believed him.

It has been 6 ½ years since I left him and he has seen the kids twice. He has never paid child support, and quit his job after the 2^nd garnishment. The first year, he only called to call me a bitch, among other things. We are not on speaking terms anymore.

 
So how does a man, who seemed to have big future in mind fall so far? For many years he blamed me, and I blamed myself. I was too fat, I nagged him too much, I expected too much out of him, etc. The truth was that I grew up, and he didn’t. He expected me to take care of him like I was his mother, yet resented me for treating him like a child. The truth is that he never wanted to be a grown-up. He wanted the privilege without the responsibility. He is a flawed person from the inside out. He is incapable of loving anyone enough, even his own children, to do what is right. His parents weren’t great, but honestly, he chooses to be this way. And maybe he didn’t unravel much; he was never really complete on his own to begin with.