The Cheese Stands Alone

Gramma,

Dave stayed home today.  I don't like that he gives me no advance warning.  He knew this on Friday.  I plan my days around his schedule.  So now I can't spend all day in bed with my boyfriend.  Dave is practicing for retirement.  Two years till go time.  He will have knee surgery and then shoulder surgery.  He's hoping he can skate out on that. 

Summer TV is pretty dreary.  We often watch several episodes of Orange is the New Black in the evening.  I binge watched the series while visiting my daughter in Denver two years ago.  Granted, I was drinking copious quantities of beer and ingesting pot candy, but I don't remember a lot of details.  This concerns me, as my brother is only 52 and has early onset Alzheimer's. 

As a former guest of the Wisconsin DOC, I find Orange is the New Black to be a good rendition of how things are.  Whites were the minority.  Crimes were mostly drug related.  My crime of Solicitation of Murder was highly revered, so I didn't get a lot of shit that new inmates get.  Nothing there is secret.  Inmates worked in the office and had access to information.  I had been in the state nut hut for a couple months being evaluated for trial.  This gave me the added security of being seen as a loose cannon.  I was classified as violent and dangerous. 

I was pretty much white bread back woods with no priors.  NO STREET SMARTS.  I was in church choir, garden club, president of the Fine Arts Board, and worked on Love Baskets at Christmas.  I was a secretary where I worked, until I had ten years in and was vested for retirement.  Then I grew ginseng for export.  We had forty acres of woods to grow it on.  I lived in mosquito heaven with three kids and their sperm donor. 

I compartmentalized my life--there was this life with my spousal unit and his abusive behavior, the public façade with him, and life with my kids, friends, and work.  I led a double life.  I didn't have the words or knowledge necessary to understand what he was doing to me.  There was some physical abuse, but the majority was emotional, sexual and financial.  Even when he was around, he was rarely available to us.  When he was, it was mostly not pretty. 

The last straw was when he did something to our oldest son that made him attempt suicide.  I came home from choir practice to find that he had been taken to a mental health facility more than an hour away.  His younger bother was sitting in a rocking chair in a fetal position.  The police had surrounded the house and confiscated a gun. 

I called his father at work.  "What do you want me to do about it," he barked.  "I just thought you would want to know."  The paternal grandparents blamed me.  I went to see an attorney. 

After I filed for divorce, things escalated.  Marriage counseling was an utter failure.  He had done nothing wrong.  And, so the stalking, gunfire, harassment and manipulation began.  His family was well-known in the area.  Friends and acquaintances backed away from me.  The cheese stands alone.