Fear and Fury

Fear and Fury

Last night I found myself thinking about something I hadn't for some time. I was thinking about writing a new piece, or trying to finish one of my short stories. A horrible thought from my past crept in and would not leave. I was thinking about the night that I caught my wife cheating on me. It was just horrible. That's the only way to put it. After our fight, and her leaving with her goddamned father; the drinking commenced. I got really fucking drunk, and had called my daughter over to the house so that I could tell her what was going on. I knew I had to go to work in only four or five hours when I called "Party Over!"

My daughter was kind enough to stay until I had fallen asleep (or passed out). Her boyfriend had driven her over there, so I wasn't afraid of her leaving that late at night. I got up on time, and went to work. I wished that I would have a wreck or something to kill me so I wouldn't have to feel like I did. It wasn't the extreme hang-over I had: it was the pain in my chest, oh fuck it---it was all over me!  Of course, I didn't stay at work. I announced to my friends at work what was going on in my life, and my boss told me to take some time off and get myself together. I did.

The first few days where about the same. I would call her dad's house and try to talk to her calmly, but it never lasted more than a few minutes before I would be yelling at her. She would tell me the same thing. Over and over she would tell me that that guy was none of my business, and then I would just lose it. Her father was listening in on the last few times I called. Once he hung the phone up on me. I redailed thinking I had been the one to hang up on accident, but when he answered the next time,  I knew what had happened.

The thing that made this really hurt so bad was that we had just celebrated our twentieth anniversary. We were married when I was just eighteen and she was sixteen. My kids were really supportive of me. I thought for sure they would pull to their mother's side, but they didn't. It wasn't the first time this had happened. This was the third or fourth time. The times before she had spread rumors around that I was screwing someone else, when she was the one doing that all along. I caught the news second hand the times before. She was at home packing her stuff in the other times, but this time it was right in my face.

Time went by and I had develped a very odd habit. I would pick something in the house, anything that was hers, mine, or ours, and burn that shit in the front yard. Once I accidently burnt a pair of my daughters scrubs for her paramedic training. Of course I felt like shit about that, and apologized.

After a good while, that got old. I moved out of the house. I let her have it. I also found out that i was going to have to have a surgery that was going to force me to have to quit my job. I have the "Mick Mars" disease. It's called Ankylosing Spondylitis. Its a severe form of arthritis. I have had it for most of my life. That shit is in my neck and the top of my spine making it incredibly difficult to turn my head and move in certain directions. The surgery had to be done on my left ankle though. The arthritis had settled in my goddamned joints and ate all the spongy stuff up. The bones where rubbing on each other, swelling my foot and ankle to the point that I couldn't get a shoe on. I was in the hospital for five days. I couldn't walk without the assistance of a walker for a long time. I had the biggest blue cast on you ever saw. In my third month of recovery, I recieved a summons to appear in court for divorce. I did it! I was given all the rights to visit my son whenever I wanted to, and he could stay with me as much as he liked. This led to the finale of a great court adventure. You see, that sorry ex of mine thought I was going to have to pay child support like that fucker she was hooked up with. But, when all the shit hit the fan, I didn't have to pay a dime. She was ordered to pay me 1500.00 dollars for items I had left in the house. I didn't mind. I was really glad not to have to see any of that shit again.

The next best part of all of this was my parents. After everything was said and done, they signed their house over to me as an early inheritance. I moved right in. I had been living there anyway while I was healing from my surgery, but when that got better, I didn't have to leave.

The title of this writing says it all in how I felt during those early days of my divorce. I had fear from being by myself, and fury when I had to be alone with my thoughts. I had fear about my future, and fury about my children's futures. I had fear about what I might do to myself, and fury about what I wanted to do to her and her new fiance'. Some of the fury rises when that dickhead drops my son off at my house. But, I am getting better about that.

My parents bought a lake house at lake Cedar Creek outside of Dallas a good piece. I am here at my house in Oklahoma. I feel a lot better about things now. That first few months though, I just didn't know. I'm sure I will use this in a story one of these days.