Its a Marshmallow World

I hate snow

I hate snow.  My mom certainly taught me that.  I didn't understand it until I started driving.  Even then, I loved snow, I just hated the driving.  

When Jenny and I were first dating--during the massive blizzard of December 1990--I loved the snow. I remember walking in a literal blizzard with my BoSox hat on at 45th and Roosevelt. Near whiteout conditions, a gusting wind blew my hat into the intersection, and the wind chill keeping the temperature in the single digits didn't stop me from walking to a date at the Last Exit,to drink

mocha floats and then later making snow angels, the two of us basking in the bloom of new love. That was then. 

I have, upon reflection, hated the snow since the kids were little.  I hate the cold.  It just fucks with my life too much.  

After my mom died, a snowstorm came which forced us to cancel her memorial service.  I had scheduled it to take place at a Unitarian Church in North Seattle.  We ended up pushing it way out.  Way out.  And, we had to choose a different venue, as the original church was not available. Not sure how my mom would have felt about having her send-off at a UU church in Kirkland, but there it was held.

Tomorrow, along with Leiney, I get my second dose of the Moderna vaccine.  In Mill Creek. At the Everett Clinic.  If we have over a foot of snow in Ravenna, the snow will likely be twice as deep there.  Ugh.

Jenny is ok today.  I gave all of her drugs to Moni on Tuesday, save for her oxycodone, trying to make suicide harder, should suicidal ideation return.  But, last night her back pain came roaring back. While the oxy helped, she really could have used dilaudid.  The snow and the nighttime onset of the pain hindered any chance that we could get her some--after the suicide incident,  I gave all meds to Moni, save the oxy, which, apart from what is in her pillbox, I have hidden. She managed to sleep thanks to the heated mattress pad on my side of the bed and the oxy and the Xanax and the THC capsule.

I'm certain she has seen Eric the pinché motherfucker once, and possibly twice--Thursday and Friday.  She disappeared after an appt on Thursday.  Also, she went to TOPS, ostensibly to get her DBT notebook-which she didn't find.  Moreover, I'm sure Leiney has hers here and mine must also be here somewhere. She left for an acupuncture appointment at 10, and didn't get home until 2, and when I called and texted there was radio silence.  Yesterday she went to the chiropractor, and the drill was similar.  She texted me and said she was going for a walk afterward, but I call bullshit, since she can barely walk at all, given her attendant weakness.  Un menteur ment, c'est la vie.  

My therapist was surprised that I told Eric the pinché motherfucker's wife of the affair.  She now says, contrary to what she said to me some months ago, that she always expected me to do it.  She said calling Eric the pinché motherfucker and giving him the opportunity to tell his wife himself was the honorable thing to do, which I hadn't thought about. Much different than Jenny's view that calling Eric the pinché motherfucker and telling his wife were both dick moves.

During therapy, the question arose from Dr. Fiedler regarding what I was looking to get out of this disclosure.  I told her that I didn't know, but that I had to do it, and that once doing so a huge weight has been lifted off of my shoulders.  Fiedler suggested it was very difficult for me to carry this secret around.  Three of the 4 impacted people knew, and so that was a burden for me.  I admitted that nothing had changed, and in fact, it turns out to be a victory for Jenny and Eric the pinché motherfucker, as the threat of disclosure is lifted. While they may have trouble hooking up for a tryst, given both  her illness and his wife's scrutiny, they still can see each other during the day when Jenny is healthy and Eric the pinché motherfucker's wife is at work.  So, Jenny has been demanding that I pretend she isn't having an affair and now, she thinks I believe its over--again, I don't--she gets what she wants, the cake and eating it.

The hardest thing for me is that I felt better at the hovel of an apartment, emotionally.  But leaving Jenny alone, or the kids alone with Jenny isn't an option.  So, I am back to square one, caring for an unfaithful wife who puts her desires above my feelings or needs. FML.

Also, Buddy is adorable.