Birthday Twin, part 2

At the request of Colin and Klutzy, I have returned with the follow up story from yesterday’s post now that Jason (the Hubs) has agreed that there should be no issue sharing it since I hid identities.

So. You ready? 😉

While we had been living in New Orleans, at a certain point Jason and his coworkers all had to go live in Mississippi for 6 months (until the company then decided to move their project there indefinitely.) This was 12 years ago now.

During this time period of temporary assignment, I would stay in NOLA over the week for work and then travel to Mississippi (about an hour and a half to two hour drive) to spend the weekend with the hubs.

This time period is when the story of the heinous birthday twin woman took place.

Apparently, as Jason tells it, he had the sense that their marriage was not going well (even before the temporary move) because she treated her husband “much the same” as she had treated me. I take this to mean that she was likely a narcissist as well as a hoarder and whatever other negative personality traits she had. I can’t comment on if there were any reasons on his end that it may not have been going well – but he seemed to be a dejected, beat down sort of man when he was around her.

Jason said that while they rarely hung out while in Mississippi, he did understand that this guy dreaded the weekends in which he would return to NOLA to spend at home. It became a thing he only did because of the need to see his children; his wife being an unfortunate side effect.

At some point, the guy gave up and though he was supposed to go home one Friday evening, he did not show up at his house in NOLA. So on the Saturday evening, she drove her kids to Mississippi to confront him at his apartment… But he wasn’t there. I don’t know what she did in between… Where she stayed, but supposedly she (and the children) waited for him and by Monday morning he still hadn’t come back to his apartment.

Now, I know my first thought would have been “OMG Something must have happened to my husband!” Right? Who wouldn’t think that? Okay, possibly you think along the lines of cheating at some point… But after him not being at his apartment where you would otherwise expect him to show up when he wouldn’t expect you there… then… accident on the way to New Orleans? Should you call hospitals? MIA for three days!

Well, Monday morning Jason went out to his truck to leave for work. By the way – he usually started work between 6 and 6:30 AM… so it was very early. There was a car parked perpendicular to the back of his truck. He assumed it was someone parking briefly, because who in their right mind would park like that for more than a few minutes?

Well, he waited and waited, yet the car did not move. So he got out to ask the person in the car to get out of his way so he could get to work. This is when he recognised it was her and her two kids.

She hopped out of the car and got in his face screaming about her husband not being there and that he must be cheating on her. She made accusatory gestures such as poking him in the chest and accusations to the effect of Jason letting him step out on her or something.

He remained calm and told her that he was her husband’s supervisor, not his keeper. He told her to calm down and he had no idea where he had gone.

He got back in his truck and she got back in her car before starting to move forward. So Jason started to back out and she threw her car into reverse and stopped him again. Jason waited for about ten minutes, in the meantime he tried calling the guy to come take care of this shit so he could get to work – yet the guy did not answer.

Finally Jason got back out of his truck again and the woman flew into further rage, accusing Jason of calling to warn her husband she was there.

All the while, of course, her children were sobbing in the back seat.

Again, he remained calm and told her that no – he hadn’t answered, but he had called to have him come take care of his woman. He then told her if she did not leave immediately he would be next calling the police.

She then left, finally, all while pointing at him with a grimace on her face.

Once he got to work, he called the husband into his office and locked the door. he told him in no uncertain terms that it was against company policy to get involved in employee’s personal business, but it was his wife that had made it Jason’s business. He then said the guy could take the afternoon off to handle the situation – because if she brought it to the company again by involving him or anyone else in their marriage then it would negatively effect the guy’s career. (i.e security issues would affect his ability to be employed by the company.)

Jason said that was the last he spoke of it, until he told me the story a couple evenings ago. He was aware; however, that that afternoon they officially became separated and the guy started dating some police woman in that town for about three months… At some point he and the wife started marriage counseling and gave it another go around that three month mark.

After that, the few times Jason saw that woman, she shuffled her feet and refused to acknowledge or look at Jason. He wasn’t sure if she hated him or was just embarrassed by her previous behaviour.

Honey, you best have been embarrassed….

 

 

Reblogging Rae: Tell Your Stories (revamped)

Post #6 in my recycling series… only 2-3 more to go, I promise 😉 This one is from September 2015 and the content has been changed a fair bit (the second half deleted and replaced by different content) so it is not actually by rights the same post 🙂

My friend posted a quote on FB for me yesterday. She said it reminded her of me and some of the stuff I’ve said recently about telling my stories.

“You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories.

If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should’ve behaved better.”

I’ve said things about telling my stories so others can learn from my mistakes. I had noted an old friend who knew David said she liked my book… and with slight concern I asked her if she was still in touch with him in any capacity. She’s not and told me that he shouldn’t care about events from so long ago, and besides I was nice and concealed his identity. If she wrote a book she would protect the innocent, not the guilty. This Ann Lamont quote just seemed so fitting for me, and I love when people see something that reminds them of you and fits so well – it makes you realize that at least that one person has paid some attention to you in some way or another.

I also strongly believe in telling one’s stories not only for learning from each other’s mistakes, but also to create a sense of community. More than likely if you tell your story, you will find that there are others like you that have experienced similar experiences. It creates a sense of not being alone – and as I have discovered it emboldens others to also tell there stories – or at the least confide in the original story teller. I can’t count how many women have approached me in private to tell me they connect with my accounts of abuse or how many people have come to relay their struggles with depression. Often I get the sense that I am the only person they have told, or at least in a select few.

11008385_10152728610631179_3717974064164285695_n

For a very long time, I had been ashamed of various parts of my past. This was a hard thing to admit to myself, in all honesty. For a long time I pushed certain things down or brushed them to the side; choosing to ignore them. That wasn’t healthy. I realise that now.

Making the conscious decision not to be ashamed, or at least to fight the sense of shame, I had about the abusive situations I endured has resulted in a cathartic release for me as well as serving as inspiration for other women to open up, even just a little bit, and start their own coping processes. It has resulted in changes for the better in my marriage and, I hope, changes for the better in how I interact with my family as a whole. My writing and frank discussions have also served to cause others to reach out for help for their depression – even in crises.

I like to think, though I have no proof as yet, that writing my stories about events that contributed to rape culture have also assisted in opening some people’s eyes to understanding that side of our society – a side that maybe they didn’t recognise or realise was such an ingrained problem.

This is why I feel we all must continue to tell our stories; to strengthen each other, to embolden the victimised or abused, to make real change in our society where it’s warranted.