I received a call from Mort the morning that the girls and I were going to return home saying that he was going to go to an AA meeting that day. I should have been
happy relieved but his tone told me he hadn’t gotten to the place of accountability. My suspicion was confirmed that when I didn’t respond with jubilant squeals and thankful tears, he said, “I thought you would stop nagging me if I went. Isn’t that the deal.?” Jesus, clueless.
I arrived home to an absolute shit of a mess..literally. The house was beyond disgusting and stank of something dreadful. He had clearly been there the last two days but had told me he was at a hotel. I only made it as far as the kitchen when I called him. He was stinking drunk. I got a somewhat incoherent rambling of words and he said that the AA meeting had stressed him out (although he was awfully furry on any of the details of said meeting).
I hung up. I couldn’t be bothered listening to the lies. I opened all the windows, cleaned the kitchen and lounge and noted the countless empty vodka bottles and ripped up wine casks (yes the cheap and nasty stuff) in the bin. And then I went to the bedroom to start the tidy up in there. When I pulled the sheets off the bed, that is when I noticed a smear of something….something dreadful. He had crapped in the bed…and left it.
While you sit there with your hand over your mouth and face grimaced in rightful disgust, here is where I say, I had not until this point shared this detail with anyone. I was at that time protecting him. I did not want this story to be in the minds of our friends and my family. The reason is that although I was so very done with this crazy situation and this reckless self-absorbed alcoholic, he was still the father of my girls and he would, regardless of divorce, be in their lives in some capacity.
There is no longer the slimmest chance of that….talk about the shit hitting the fan.
There were simply no pretty pictures for this post.