the inevitable

Feb.28,2013

The month he got to spend with us was heaven sent.  With other factors such as the fact that he skipped his probation urine screenings and left the state when forbidden to do so kept me apprehensive but blessed all the same. We had come along way in the past year in both directions that with his violation of probation date today I wasn't sure that I would stick around. We've been together five years and in hell for two.  Just seven to twelve months ago I was finding used needles all over the house and in definite reach of children. Every time I would confront him about them he would lie and no bullshit tell me that they were used for administering his crohn's medication. I'm not a doctor or anything but when has medicine fallen so far beyond barbaric that with chemo and facial reconstructions crohn's disease patients are left with no option but to 'booty bump' the medication that they need. Give me a fucking break, but ok i'll let that one dissipate like it never existed, it was an assault to my ears but I was working on not taking things to seriously and this was a great time and example to exercise what i had learned. Time went on the same and the same until the stress of raising three kids under my mother's roof while hiding a raging pill problem to the point of injecting that shit in your veins proved too much to bear and the only importance to him being his ego and how everyone in the streets could make it grow. After a couple of crashed cars (one penetrating a house, yes he ran) , and an awakening assault by the 17 year old boy that looked to me for guidance i stuck my finger up to the DMV and headed back south, back home. Everything was the way it should be. The weather was always nice, I have my own place six hours away from the despair and draining anxiety that was southern Maryland and all the souls experiencing hell on earth were inhabited. Aside from the boys getting suspended every other week and a glooming loneliness, it seemed like I found my second chance. Then things got dark and the sun was absent for two weeks. I drove to the state line to pick him up and as storybook as it was that day the month that followed was just as. I fell back into old habits but had a want and an ability to change in order to feel the love that I wouldnt otherwise let myself feel. I was able to fall in love again and remove myself from fantasy land to the reality that was and was probably going to forever be. I put him on a bus on the 27th and we talked on the phone until we fell asleep. The next day, well today they took him away for two years. My home and my heart are broken. I'm ok knowing that this is what was going to and in a way needed to happen, but im scared in a sense that the kids will become depressed again, how am I going to be able to work between 6 and 5 with a criminal record of my own (i do NOT steal) and how the hell am i going to keep things together for two years. I've done the whole jail thing before and writing institutions to express my love to my husband isn't necessarily my jive. I look at that town like Alcatraz, everyone gets arrested at least 4 times every couple of years, the courthouse is like a high school family reunion. Its small town as in we all know each other and we all know each others business. The pill and heroin problem there is so bad all rehabs within the tri county area are on waiting lists that would make chick fil a blush, like three years at least. He's in Alcatraz and its his own doing, but when do we get to stop struggling? When do we get our reimbursement? We have the hardest jobs on Earth and yet ultimately we are really the only ones doing time.