Thanksgiving, The White Supremacist and the Last Straw

Thanksgiving

It had been a difficult year: the felony strangulation investigation against my ex, the stress of the wedding planning, the wedding, the move to Florida, buying our first home, and the miscarriage. A lot was going on, and I think it is fair to say that I didn't handle it all that well--and that is if you consider slipping into full-blown alcoholism "handling" it.

Roughly a month after the miscarriage, we invited my husband's sister and her boyfriend up to Orlando for Thanksgiving. The month since the miscarriage had been stressful and depressing for both my husband and myself. And I can't speak for my husband, but I looking forward to some reprieve from the isolation and melancholia that had become almost oppressive in the weeks following the loss.

We had reason to be excited that Thanksgiving because we had bought our first home less than a month before, and it would be the first time we had guests or family members over to our new home. In our excitement, we went all out in preparation for their arrival: we spent several days cooking and cleaning, spent several hundred dollars on groceries and niceties for their stay, and even went so far as to put a bottle of champagne and expensive pastries in their room. We were excited to share our new home with others, and truly looking forward to some respite from our troubles.

That did not happen...instead, we had a four day onslaught of white supremacist views from Robbie, the significant other of my sister-in-law.

The White Supremacist 

I can't even begin to describe the level of hatefulness and aggression that came out of Robbie's mouth that holiday weekend. I've never heard anything like that before or since. To put it plainly, Robbie hates everyone that is not white, male, and Christian. Moreover, he will force his views on you whether you want to hear them or not. Being that he was a guest in our home, he literally had a captive audience, and for him, Thanksgiving was clearly an optimal time to unleash is fanatical and controversial world views upon those who had no desire to hear them. I literally felt like a hostage in my own home. I definitely considered bailing on my husband for the rest of the weekend and going to my parents place on the coast.  

Personally, I find this kind of behavior a little hostile and abusive. It clearly made me uncomfortable, I stated that it made me uncomfortable, I stated that I did not agree, but he never stopped. In fact, he specifically directed his racist comments at me after I had expressed the fact that I felt uncomfortable and disagreed with his views. Most people, when seeing that I'm uncomfortable with what they are saying, are respectful enough to back off and understand that my views are different than their own. The reason that whole situation felt abusive is because, after expressing that I felt uncomfortable, Robbie actually increased the frequency and level of offensiveness of his comments.My husband had addressed his sister regarding the issue, his sister had addressed him regarding the issue, but he didn't stop. In fact, he escalated.

 Moreover, instead of making general comments to the group, he specifically started to address them towards myself directly. And after expressing my uncomfortably, he specifically told me (and his girlfriend) to "put a tampon up your pussy and cry while you watch Oprah."

I had just married, miscarried and bought my first home, I was overwhelmed and still a bit unstable after all of the stress in the months prior. We had just moved to Oviedo. I didn't even know my way around, never mind know where to go, who to talk to, or what to do. I ended up calling friends and family out of state, and honestly, no one really knew what to do because no one could recall ever being in a comparable situation.

I made it pretty clear I had no interest in listening to is bullshit. But why would my comfort matter to him? He is a guest in my home, and my husband and I offered him and his girlfriend our warmest welcome with the utmost thought and consideration for them? But why would our feelings or comfort matter??? After all, I am a woman, so I can pretty much go fuck myself because I'm not equal and he is entitled to treat me any way he wants. 

It is totally normal to make a person feel uncomfortable in their own home, right?

Robbie said so much hateful stuff, I can't even remember it all. But, to give the reader some idea, here are a few choice comments that I remember:

"Those s**d n*****rs and Jews are always causing our country problems. We should just a-bomb the whole middle east and that'll solve it."

"Mexicans (Latinos) are ruining our country and stealing our jobs. We need to deport those fuckers so white people can work."

But among the most confusing and astounding things he said was, "Come on now, honestly, honestly, don't you believe, on some level, that you are better than other people because you are white?" Um, No, Robbie. There are a hell of a lot of people out there from all variety of races and religions that are doing substantially better for themselves than I'll ever do. That doesn't even make sense. I'm sorry, but how dumb can you be? In what degree of denial do you have to immerse yourself to be able to believe that is even remotely true?

The Last Straw

Frankly, I've been through enough in my life. I am not interested in inviting verbal abuse and hatefulness into my home. Moreover, there is no way I would feel safe starting a family in a situation where every holiday would put me in circumstances where I felt uncomfortable, disrespected, and generally stressed out. Nor would I want to have children around that level of hatefulness or aggression. It is not normal, and it should not be treated as such.

At some point, I started to feel like I was in crazy land around his family. I was the only one who would even seem to acknowledge what happened (other than his father), or express any concern about the implications of what had happened. My husband kept trying to ignore it, his sister kept trying to ignore it, and the general message I received from his family was to ignore it and pretend like there was no problem. No. Not going to happen. His views and behavior were extreme and I'm not going to pretend like nothing is going on. Racism is a deal breaker for me. So is verbal abuse--or, for that matter, abuse of any kind. I made that very clear to my husband, and he told me he understood. Still, he did nothing about it. He promised to say something when the "time was right"...but as the weeks passed, it was beginning to become clear that the time was never going to be right.

My husband never had a conversation with Robbie, his sister, or his parents about the events that had transpired. In retrospect, I can't entirely blame him. The first time he had called to tell his Mom about the events that occurred on our way to Key West, she shut him down and dismissed his concerns. So why would he bother trying a second time? Also, my husband is uncomfortable with conflict, so he will avoid it at all costs. Because conflict, verbal abuse, and a generally abusive stance are all fine--as long as they are directed at his wife and not him.

I felt like I didn't matter to my husband--or to anyone else in his family. The interpretation of events that I internalized were that it was not only OK for my husband's family to act out towards me in a hostile manner, it was OK for their significant others to do that as well. Does that mean it would be OK for them to do that to and around any children we would have?

Robbie left that Sunday, but the conflict he brought into our home and into my relationship with my husband and his family remained. He still has there full love and support, I on the other hand, do not.

And well, saying or doing nothing in response to statements like that??? Why??? Unless...if you catch my drift...

And I thought marriage was about being on the same team--supporting each other, sticking up for each other, having a united front. Unfortunately, it became pretty clear that that wasn't happening in our marriage.

My husband promised me he would address the delicate situation with his family, buttttttt.......

Wedding Woes and Alcohol Part 2: Conflict and Humiliation

Conflict and Humiliation

One thing surprised me about getting married: a lot of people have very strong opinions about how the wedding should go; people other than the bride and groom.

As I mentioned before, I have a profound aversion to conflict and a crippling need for everyone to like me. As I began to plan the wedding, it became very clear that there would be no way to avoid conflicts, and therefore, no way to keep everyone happy so everyone would continue to like me. This revelation was troubling to me and I felt like the best way to deal it was by increasing my use of of alcohol. I mean, that makes perfect sense, right?

This seems like a really good idea!

The first mistake I made in planning the wedding was to get one of my good friends involved. This particular friend, let's call her Jane, is a great person and most definitely means well. However, Jane is also but a bit of a "personality" with a little too much time on her hands. When I was struggling to find the motivation to plan the wedding, and having trouble make decisions about the wedding, I started asking her for help. Eventually I paid her to help me plan the wedding. Around that time, things went horribly awry. Of all the people that had very strong opinions, Jane had the strongest.

No pressure or anything..

Jane's strong opinions started to boil over when we went back to Massachusetts to decide some of the more intricate details of the wedding. At this time, Jane met one of my family members that was also helping to plan the wedding. It made sense to have this family member, Gemma, involved in wedding planning because she actually LIVED where the wedding was taking place, and besides that, planning weddings was ACTUALLY her job. While Jane had been a very successful wedding photographer, she had never actually planned a wedding.

Jane met Gemma, along with another person in my family, Maria, at the Greenfield Country Club to discuss the details of  he reception. When Jane realized that Gemma knew what she was doing, the whole encounter took an uncomfortable turn. Jane instantly became defensive, and as a result, started to inappropriately drop information about herself and her very impressive (to be truthful) work history. However, it was apparent to everyone else there, including my husband, that she was feeling very insecure and was being a bit combative with Gemma. It was awkward to watch and I politely excused myself to the bathroom to pop a Xanax. When I returned, everyone was discussing transportation. I jumped into the conversation, and cut off Maria who was, at that moment, was offering the services of other family members that potentially might be attending the wedding as guests. Of course, none of those people had any idea that their services were being offered. This resulted in Maria abruptly getting up and storming out. My husband chased after her when she ran out, while Gemma, Jane and I awkwardly tried to pretend like nothing odd was occurring. The awkwardness was compounded when my husband returned and reported that he had tried to flag that person down, but they drove right past him and ignored him entirely. The meeting ended shortly after that, and the entire ride home Jane ranted about Gemma and her suspicions that Gemma didn't like her. I sneaked into my sister's liquor cabinet that night after everyone had gone to bed. After I began to feel some alcohol induced relief, I popped another Xanax and went to bed. The whole day had been stressful and incredibly awkward and embarrassing, and the wedding was still months away. I couldn't help but wonder what my husband thought of everything that happened, but I didn't have the courage to deal with whatever he might say.

In the months between the terrible wedding planning debacle and the actual wedding, I fired Jane after she lost the second dress I had bought her for the wedding. Also, my husband and I got into our first serious argument that I described in the previous post. As the wedding date got closer the pressure and stress became seemingly endless. I was beginning to fall apart at the seams, and that was starting to become apparent to others. I hate it when that happens, it is really frickin' embarrassing.

Transparency

A couple of nights before the wedding, I went to a small, intimate dinner with some of the people that were directly involved in the wedding. At first, I felt relieved. I knew everyone there very well, and I didn't feel like I had to filter what I said, or pretend that I was doing well. I wasn't. In an unguarded moment, I made a joking toast over dinner that went something like: "Well, we are all crazy here, so I feel very much at home!"

Shhhiiitttt!!!Now I'm the one that made everything awkward

One person at the dinner did not appreciate my joke/toast, Valentina, one of my bridesmaids. This was exceptionally uncomfortable because I hold Valentina's opinion in very high regard. I very much care what Valentina thinks of me.

The next day, I was meeting with Gemma to discuss the final, last-minute details of the wedding reception when my phone started blowing up. It was Valentina, and she didn't to be in my wedding anymore because the toast I made the night before had greatly offended her. She had decided at the last minute that she would not be in my wedding. I nervously read her texts while continuing to discuss the details of the wedding with Gemma and my husband. Something was wrong, and everyone could tell: my phone was blowing up for ten minutes, and my pain and anxiety continued to increase every time my iPhone made the "bing" noise to notify me of an incoming text. I rushed through the details of the wedding so I could escape from the coffee shop and cry in private. When we walked out, my husband and I sat in the park across the street and I just cried and vented. He was there for me, and I felt so relieved that I would be starting a new life with him. He was always very even-keeled and supportive.

After I had pulled myself together, we went over to the People's Pint so I could find some liquid courage. I had a couple of drinks, calmed down, ran an urgent errand for the wedding. We then proceeded up to Valentina's house in an attempt to resolve the conflict. When we arrived, her and her husband came out of the house and confronted me in the driveway. She informed me how offended she was and why. I just backed down and agreed that I was wrong in order to smooth things over so I wouldn't have to suffer the embarrassment of having to explain why this very near and dear friend had suddenly decided that she didn't want to be a part of my wedding. When I finally thought we had come to some resolution, she confronted me about my drinking. I lost it. I argued with her brutally before getting back in the car and driving to the bed and breakfast where I was staying. Before we left, she confirmed to me again that she would not be a part of my wedding, and perhaps would not even attend my wedding. That particular person and her family would have been a very noticeable absence at the wedding. That absence would have wounded me for the rest of my life, and would have been absolutely humiliating for thereon after.

At the bed and breakfast, I wracked my brain for a solution to my certain humiliation. I decided that I would find someone else to replace her. Everyone that I was close to had already been asked to be in the wedding and had already either accepted or declined. My best friend couldn't be there because it was enormously cost prohibitive for her, and I started to feel very vulnerable. At that point, I very uncomfortably turned to my husband's friends in order to fill Valentina's void. It was massively awkward and uncomfortable to ask people I had only known for a few years, but I was pretty desperate at that point. One of them consented, and I put the rest of the mess on the back-burner for the time being.

Within the next day, people began to arrive for the wedding. My bridesmaids helped a lot in smoothing over all the rough edges and keeping me calm. My husband disappeared around that time because he had to attend to his own family and friends. My best friend from high school was in my bridal party and doing her best to keep my spirits up. However, she lived locally, and was not staying at the bed and breakfast with me. I started to feel isolated and lonely at night. Everyone was busy, and there were a lot of long gaps of time where I was alone with little else to do but ruminate on my many worries. I know that people would have been there for me if I asked, but I was too humiliated to talk about all the drama that had been going on. Around that time, Valentina reluctantly agreed to be a part of my wedding party again, but we were still on a very shaky peace.

Finally, the night before the wedding, my old friend from England arrived. He had just gone through the break-up of a very long, very serious relationship. Neither of us were in the best of spirits, so his presence offered me enormous comfort. I was also able to confide in him about my drinking, the conflicts that had occurred, and my general unhappiness about the event.

We slept in separate twin beds in his room that night because I was too nervous and depressed to sleep in my room alone. We drank quite a bit with the other wedding attendees and I went to bed.

The next morning I woke up sober and completely overwhelmed. I was afraid I was going to have a panic attack. I realized that I had left my Xanax in my husband's belongings, and I desperately needed it. He sent over his friend's wife, who had agreed to be a part of my bridal party, with my bottle of Xanax. I popped my Xanax and continued to drink champagne as I got ready for the wedding ceremony.

This isn't risky at all! And besides, it is for a good reason!

My husband and his brother stopped by in between the golf game and the wedding pictures that morning. I made nervous, self-deprecating jokes in attempt from inadvertently revealing to my husband that I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown on our wedding day. I think I did a good job minimizing how unraveled I had become. I didn't want to ruin his wedding day just because I was having a meltdown. However, when they were leaving, his brother shot me a look. I can't be sure, but I got the impression he was on to me and the haphazard cover-up over my wedding breakdown.

 A couple of my bridesmaids were late for hair and make-up. One of them was Valentina, and I remained worried in spite of my haze of alcohol and Xanax. Gemma came to the bed and breakfast and talked to me while I was getting ready. I could tell from her eyes that she knew I was having trouble as well. I seriously wish I was not so transparent when I fall apart! We all pushed on, and went to take the wedding pictures before the ceremony. My buzz started to wear off during the lengthy photo shoot, and everything started becoming a little too real for me. On the way to the wedding ceremony, I made the driver stop at the liquor store so I could buy a couple of vodka shooters.

In the basement of the church, I shamelessly pounded my vodka shooters in front of my husband's groomsmen. I already felt exposed and I was about to stand up in front of almost everyone I knew, as well as everyone my husband knew. I was petrified that everyone would see right through me--see my stress, see my fear, see my embarrassment. I felt entirely transparent.

Right before the ceremony, I went upstairs and continued drinking with my bridesmaids in the back room. On the way up, I ran into one of my cousins' husband. He shot a look right through me--but his was a look of judgement. It was not a kind or concerned look like the others. I put it out of my head and went on with the wedding.

As I got married, the rush of alcohol and Xanax hit me, and I started to feel OK. I did my best to look happy and excited. I searched the expressions of my husband's family members to see if they had any indication of how uncomfortable I felt or what a fake I was. They seemed OK.

The alcohol started to wear off as the wedding reception started. People were having a good time, so I felt less concerned about having to put on my happy face. I sat down at the table and relaxed. For a moment, I left my expression unguarded. I looked over, and my cousin was looking right at me. He knew I was miserable, and in some way that was quite comforting. It all would be over soon anyway.


To be continued..TUNE IN TOMORROW FOR THE EPIC CONCLUSION OF THIS SECOND ANNIVERSARY SPECIAL!

Wedding Woes and Alcohol Part 1

This is the weekend of my second wedding anniversary. I find that there is no way to avoid the abject humiliation and soul crushing depression that happens when you're sitting at home, alone, cuddling with your dog and binge watching "Orange is the New Black" on your second wedding anniversary. Especially when your husband is off to somewhere, with some people, in some place--none of which you know anything about.

I don't blame anyone for wondering: "Wow, what was so bad about their marriage that her husband filed for divorce less than two years after marrying her??? Is she crazy? An adulterer? An unruly lush?"

Not an adulterer. Crazy? Unruly? Lush? Well...those are all subject to interpretation. Other stories for another occasion. Today, I'm starting the story of how I demolished a happy, healthy relationship with my husband, and crumbled a marriage in less than two years!

In regard to my current situation, today I received this text from my sister:

Oh God, people are thinking about this!

While I appreciate the concern and support, it is a bit rough knowing that a whole bunch of people are probably thinking about, or hoping for, the same thing.

If I'm totally honest, the marriage really started to crumble before we were even married. My parents confronted me at the first Christmas after we were engaged, and compelled me to pick a date and start planning the wedding. That was the beginning of the end...

First of all, it was a lot of choices. Making decisions is not my strong point. I have historically struggled with flexibility as well. I was hell bent on a haunted, Halloween wedding at the Deerfield Inn, a famously haunted AND historical lodging in the foothills of the Berkshire Mountains of Western Massachusetts.

I feel a deep passion for Halloween. It is my favorite holiday, and probably the only time I feel the same joy and excitement of a child on Christmas morning.

Basically, Halloween is awesome. My husband and I even went so far as to meet with the event coordinator at the Inn. She told us that we could spend our first wedding night in the haunted room. I was almost giddy with excitement. I envisioned myself with a Halloween wedding/wedding dress something like this:

What I actually looked like was this:

And the wedding looked something like this:

Absolutely lovely, but entirely different from anything I had envisioned. Not Halloween. Not Haunted. Not Small. Not Personal. NOT ME.

I get myself into situations like this because I have a fear of confrontation. I also have an obsessive need to be liked by others. A true passive-aggressive, my own wants and needs get put on the back-burner in an effort to garner the approval and affection of others, to avoid conflict or any potential disapproval of others, and to present the illusion of flexibility. But like a true passive-aggressive, those needs are not forgotten. In fact, they are carefully stored in the file cabinet of my memory to be used at a later date: a date that it is too late to meet those wants and needs, but allows me to feel completely justified in using my overlooked wants and needs as ammunition in any and all future disagreements.

Compare and Contrast:

Actual Wedding

Wedding Envisioned

To my credit, I did on one occasion try to communicate with my husband how I felt about the wedding we were planning and why it made me feel uncomfortable. That attempt ended in an 8-hour sleepless night, arguing with my soon-to-be husband in his Grandparents' house, while his brother slept on the couch behind us. Eventually, I just yielded to his will. I loved him, and I was tired of arguing. That was actually the first major argument we ever had. It was also the first time I questioned if I was making the right decision.

Second of all, planning a wedding was a lot of work! I spent 3 days straight inside, never going out, barely eating or sleeping, and doing nothing other than composing our wedding website. The website thorough and, in my opinion, demonstrated the perfect blend of humor and sentiment. And while I'm pleased with how it came out, in retrospect, it is a bit unclear if it was worth that level of sacrifice and effort; especially since the marriage was well on the way to a divorce within two years. I tend to be a bit obsessive, and a bit of a perfectionist. Apparently, these sorts of characteristics can lend to a thorough wedding website, but an entirely unpleasant wedding.

Wow, 729 Days!

It was some time during the period between Christmas and the wedding (six months later) that things started to fall apart. First, everything about the wedding was turning out to be an enormous disappointment. Then, we had our first serious argument, and started questioning if I was making the right choice. But rather than follow through with the questioning, and either sorting through our troubles or making a difficult choice to end a relationship of several years, I decided to give in to him. Always, in the back of my mind, a voice reminded me that I was in my early 30's. And, sadly, I believed that it would be unlikely for me to ever get married or have children if I broke off the wedding.

I also truly loved my husband and wanted to share my life with him. So I put my thoughts and feelings aside, and at that point, I began to drink...a lot.

Little did I know, at that time, I would be childless and alone two years later. But in the meantime...

To be continued...

For full wedding website: http://www.theknot.com/wedding/Garrett-Elizabeth