Read the article that got me revved up here: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/07/05/david-brooks-egypt_n_3551427.html
When I fell ill, a mere 6 years later, he really treated me horribly and the mental abuse began. I ran away from the marriage, with a physically failing heart in January, 2005, in fear for my life. Not that he would physically abuse me, but that my ailing heart would stop. Not one person in that family cared, asked, or tried to contact me, with the exception of my ex-husband, who wrote a letter in March, I believe of 2005. I was staying with a violinist friend, half-blind, playing when I could. He wrote, asking for money. In that post, found here, http://homelesschroniclesintampa.blogspot.com/2013/05/row80-wednesday-check-in-post-9.html I talked about some of the things done and said at the end of the marriage.
I understand that it is a two-way concern. I really wanted this marriage to work, but somewhere into the 1st year, I felt a change and I was never able to re-establish closeness. No matter. I have made it clear to him and the family that he was to at least acknowledge the first post, or I would reveal some other details which I am sure he would prefer not be made public. Since my wants and needs were of such little consideration while we were married, let me return the favor.
Bill Nunnally, I really didn't appreciate the 8-ball jags on weekends at the house on Annie Street in the late '90s. While you and Herb may have enjoyed them, at the time, they terrified me. Y'all were up all night, jabbering and then getting meaner than snakes towards the end. Now, I'd put you both down for the mad dogs you are. John Holley may know about it, but I'd be willing to bet the girls don't. There is a reason I never did coke. It's a goddamned werewolf. And I am an addict. I've known that since I quit drinking the first time.
I knew it the night at PJ's when, after 14 years of sobriety, you said "Hey, one beer ain't gonna hurt." I knew it would and it did. It's on my head, but you cannot act as if you are the wronged party here. I told you over, and over, and over that I was an alcoholic. When you offered me coke, I thought "What's next, is he going to be selling my ass on Nebraska?" Drinking was bad enough and hard enough to quit. Anyway, enough dirty laundry. You ready to admit you read this, and maybe did some of this shit, or do you want a few more installments? I'm real good at this.