I ate my way thru the next month. As long as he saw me with food...and he wasn't drinking, he didn't hit me. I learned a few "eating tricks" to help slow down the weight gain. I took much smaller bites, I chewed until there was nothing left to chew, & when he wasn't watching me - I hid my food. The trash can was too obvious. I had tuperware stashed under the couch and under the kitchen sink, ziplock bags in the planters and I kept a piece of foil in my pocket when I could. If he walked outside for a minute or went to the bathroom or to check on the kids, I made a mad dash to wherever I could to put a portion of my food away. When he went to work the next morning - I'd empty my containers into a bag, wash them & restash, and drop off my "trash" when I left for work in the big dumpster. Thinking back on it now, I must have looked ridiculous jumping thru all those hoops, but hey - it worked! I'd even begun to think that this lifestyle was "acceptable".
He then discovered the "wonderful world of gambling". They put video poker machines in his favorite bar. NOT a good combination! Wouldn't ya know it - they started cashing checks too!
We had opened a joint account the previous month because he was making an effort to quit drinking and if he didn't have access to cash, then he couldn't buy alcohol. I kept the checkbook and the bank card. The only time he really bought alcohol was on payday, he'd go cash his check and that money burned a hole in his pocket so that seemed to be a good solution at the time.
He brought his check home, I deposited it in the bank and all was good!
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Monday, August 31, 2009
Pack on the Pounds
Well, the eating became a major issue. He would start throwing food at me and breaking dishes across the room if I didn't eat "enough". I couldn't understand why at the time, but it it was effective. The pounds packed on and the bigger I got, the happier he seemed to be.
I just tried to make the most of the situation because I was still seeking help and still hitting brick walls down every avenue I tried.
The cable man was in the apt. complex one day and I ran into him while going back and forth to the laundry room. He stopped me and started chatting/hitting on me. That's the first time I'd felt good about myself in quite some time...and I made the mistake up walking back in the door "happy". He'd seen us talking and asked me what we were talking about. I gave him a brief synopsis of the conversation about a direct tv customer switching to cable and the specials they were running that we might be interested in. He seemed to be okay with things. In the next few days he was on me more than ever about not eating enough to the point where I was having to eat so much it was making me ill. I'd put on almost 30 pounds since this all began and tried to explain to him that I couldn't keep this up. That's when the "real" reason for this came to light.
He told me that I couldn't stop until NO OTHER MAN would dare look my way because I'd be so fat. Then and only then could I slow down.
???????
That' just blew me away!
I just tried to make the most of the situation because I was still seeking help and still hitting brick walls down every avenue I tried.
The cable man was in the apt. complex one day and I ran into him while going back and forth to the laundry room. He stopped me and started chatting/hitting on me. That's the first time I'd felt good about myself in quite some time...and I made the mistake up walking back in the door "happy". He'd seen us talking and asked me what we were talking about. I gave him a brief synopsis of the conversation about a direct tv customer switching to cable and the specials they were running that we might be interested in. He seemed to be okay with things. In the next few days he was on me more than ever about not eating enough to the point where I was having to eat so much it was making me ill. I'd put on almost 30 pounds since this all began and tried to explain to him that I couldn't keep this up. That's when the "real" reason for this came to light.
He told me that I couldn't stop until NO OTHER MAN would dare look my way because I'd be so fat. Then and only then could I slow down.
???????
That' just blew me away!
Saturday, August 1, 2009
The Weight of Abuse
My weight has been a struggle for me all of my life. I'd describe myself as being a comfortable size when this all began. "Sturdy", yeah, that's a better description. I wasn't going to be sporting a bikini for Sports Illustrated, but I wasn't embarrassed to wear shorts either (as long as they weren't daisy dukes or "booty" shorts because I have NO ass, lol).
He began to fuss about me not eating enough for supper. Well, supper's always been kind of a no-no to me. My mom, who's also struggled with her weight her whole life, taught me at a very young age that making a "happy plate" for supper was over-rated and a recipe for gaining weight.
That aside, after working all day, dealing w/rush hour traffic, scooping up the kids, doing homework then cooking dinner - I wasn't all that hungry and if I was, I was too exhausted to do things like ... chew - that just seemed like more work so I skipped it usually. Supper for me usually consisted of a few "taste tests" while cooking and that was it. While they ate, I usually did things like washing the pots I'd used, or laundry, or clean up the house, bathing uninterrupted, etc.
He began to fuss about me not eating enough for supper. Well, supper's always been kind of a no-no to me. My mom, who's also struggled with her weight her whole life, taught me at a very young age that making a "happy plate" for supper was over-rated and a recipe for gaining weight.
That aside, after working all day, dealing w/rush hour traffic, scooping up the kids, doing homework then cooking dinner - I wasn't all that hungry and if I was, I was too exhausted to do things like ... chew - that just seemed like more work so I skipped it usually. Supper for me usually consisted of a few "taste tests" while cooking and that was it. While they ate, I usually did things like washing the pots I'd used, or laundry, or clean up the house, bathing uninterrupted, etc.
The "Real" Beginning
That day to me, was the official beginning of being an abused woman.
Are You Trapped in an Unhappy Marriage Because You Believe That You Can’t Afford to Leave?”
Though it wouldn't happen daily, or even weekly - it ALWAYS happened again. I think the record was 6 wks w/o him raising his hand to me.
When I got to work the next day, I had to figure out a way to call around for help w/o my co-workers knowing so I started chatting about how we never get to go to lunch together & how I thought it would be a good idea if we started because it wasn't any fun going out to lunch by myself day after day. The only time we got "company" from the office for lunch is if we wanted to go with one of our directors and ... well, they're our directors, ya know? lol. Tuesdays and Wednesdays were usually "slow" during lunch time and one secretary could handle it just fine so I proposed that we asked the "coolest" director, the director of our Prison Ministries dept., if she'd answer the phones for us that day so we could all go to lunch together. She agreed and off we went!
The hour passed quickly so when we got back to the office, I "volunteered" to watch the office the following day if the other 2 secretary's wanted to go together to lunch. I even let them know that if they wanted to take a little extra time "off the record", that I was fine with that as well.
Pretty slick, huh? I thought so :-)
I began by calling the Battered Woman's Shelter. What I found, was they're GREAT for getting a family out of an abusive situation and relocating them to a safe house. The problem was that I had no desire to uproot myself and my two daughters. I lived in a very nice rent controlled townhouse that I'd waited almost a year to get into, I had great neighbors, and quite honestly I wasn't about to give that up if I didn't have to. I filed them away in my mind as a "last resort" resource. I needed help to remove HIM from the home and that didn't fit into their specialty services. At the time, I don't know if they handled the restraining order referrals like they do now, but it wasn't mentioned in our phone call at that time.
I called Probation & Parole again. I once again was telling his parole officer of the events of the past week, and he interrupted me AGAIN letting me know that he couldn't discuss anything about him with me, only with a family member. I asked to speak to his supervisor. He transferred me to their voice mail. Grrr!
I called the District Attorney's office. I was told that for the price of $700, I could file a restraining order against him. SEVEN HUNDRED DOLLARS???? I told them I don't have, nor would I ever have that kind of money. They told me to call back when I did. Great! That was really helpful.
Off the subject..kinda.. a few years ago, the state had budget problems (surprise!!). During this time, they weren't paying their employees. As a matter of fact, they went almost a YEAR without a paycheck....I loved that year :-) I'm not saying that all state employees are bad people, or that their incapable of being an actual asset to the job, and I certainly didn't like knowing that the GOOD employees had to struggle financially through that year, etc. but I sure AM saying that for those that I dealt with who "withheld" information or services from me during this time - Ha-HA!
Are You Trapped in an Unhappy Marriage Because You Believe That You Can’t Afford to Leave?”
Are You Trapped in an Unhappy Marriage Because You Believe That You Can’t Afford to Leave?”
Though it wouldn't happen daily, or even weekly - it ALWAYS happened again. I think the record was 6 wks w/o him raising his hand to me.
When I got to work the next day, I had to figure out a way to call around for help w/o my co-workers knowing so I started chatting about how we never get to go to lunch together & how I thought it would be a good idea if we started because it wasn't any fun going out to lunch by myself day after day. The only time we got "company" from the office for lunch is if we wanted to go with one of our directors and ... well, they're our directors, ya know? lol. Tuesdays and Wednesdays were usually "slow" during lunch time and one secretary could handle it just fine so I proposed that we asked the "coolest" director, the director of our Prison Ministries dept., if she'd answer the phones for us that day so we could all go to lunch together. She agreed and off we went!
The hour passed quickly so when we got back to the office, I "volunteered" to watch the office the following day if the other 2 secretary's wanted to go together to lunch. I even let them know that if they wanted to take a little extra time "off the record", that I was fine with that as well.
Pretty slick, huh? I thought so :-)
I began by calling the Battered Woman's Shelter. What I found, was they're GREAT for getting a family out of an abusive situation and relocating them to a safe house. The problem was that I had no desire to uproot myself and my two daughters. I lived in a very nice rent controlled townhouse that I'd waited almost a year to get into, I had great neighbors, and quite honestly I wasn't about to give that up if I didn't have to. I filed them away in my mind as a "last resort" resource. I needed help to remove HIM from the home and that didn't fit into their specialty services. At the time, I don't know if they handled the restraining order referrals like they do now, but it wasn't mentioned in our phone call at that time.
I called Probation & Parole again. I once again was telling his parole officer of the events of the past week, and he interrupted me AGAIN letting me know that he couldn't discuss anything about him with me, only with a family member. I asked to speak to his supervisor. He transferred me to their voice mail. Grrr!
I called the District Attorney's office. I was told that for the price of $700, I could file a restraining order against him. SEVEN HUNDRED DOLLARS???? I told them I don't have, nor would I ever have that kind of money. They told me to call back when I did. Great! That was really helpful.
Off the subject..kinda.. a few years ago, the state had budget problems (surprise!!). During this time, they weren't paying their employees. As a matter of fact, they went almost a YEAR without a paycheck....I loved that year :-) I'm not saying that all state employees are bad people, or that their incapable of being an actual asset to the job, and I certainly didn't like knowing that the GOOD employees had to struggle financially through that year, etc. but I sure AM saying that for those that I dealt with who "withheld" information or services from me during this time - Ha-HA!
Are You Trapped in an Unhappy Marriage Because You Believe That You Can’t Afford to Leave?”
Friday, July 24, 2009
He's Back! Talking with His Mom
He was going stay the weekend at his mom's house. That buys me a little more time as well as gives me the opportunity to talk to her about what went on with him.
I get there to drop him off, say a quick hello & introduce her to her granddaughter who's now 11. We go inside so my daughter can meet her half sister and half brother who live w/his mom. The kids got involved in fishing in the pond behind the house w/their dad - GREAT! I have some alone time w/mom. Now, I don't know this woman from Adam but I figure the best way to be is straight up. Mrs. X, I just need to tell you that I won't be picking him up. I can't have him at my house. He was never actually "invited" to stay and it's just not healthy for me or the kids. She tells me, well he can't stay here, I don't have the room so ya'll will have to work something out.
Okay, I see I have to go a little deeper here. Mrs. X, I was raised Catholic, & I'm raising my kids in the Church - I've never lived with a man I wasn't married to. I don't believe in it and it sets a poor example for my kids as well so he can't stay with me.
Again she says we'll have to work something out because she has "no room"...did I mention that my apt would soooo fit inside her livingroom??
Time to take the plunge. Mrs. X, I say while pulling up my shirt revealing several bruises that are still pretty black though they're 2 weeks old because apparently the black eye didn't raise an eyebrow from her, your son did this to me and he is not welcome in my home or in my life. He's already back drinking and I don't want to chance him hurting the kids. I called his parole officer and he won't talk to me because I'm not "family" and I need to make sure he never does this again!! ... there, I said it!
She then begins to scream at me some very degrading things along with "how dare I say that her son did something like this to me - he'd NEVER!".
Ya know, this just isn't quite how I imagined the conversation would go.Apparently she prefers a life of denial about her "little angelic son".
I walk out of the house, call to my kids to hurry because we have to get back home,put them in the car as quick as I can and I'm outta there! My only comforting thought was "at least he doesn't have a key to my apartment"!
The weekend was less than relaxing because I didn't know if he was going to show up or if she would tell him of our conversation, but it sure was better than spending another day w/him! Sunday comes and goes and he doesn't show up...whew! I go to work thinking problem solved :-)
If only things were that easy! He's a smart man, I'll give him that. He knew that I wouldn't open the door for him if he came back while I was home, he got back to my house while I was at work. He apparently mastered the art of picking a lock during his many years in prison. If that don't just make a Monday a Monday, I don't know what does!
His mom had given him some money before she dropped him off so he walked to the store by the house and had gotten some vodka. He was sloppy drunk when I came home & waiting in the living room for me. He was pissed! Apparently his mom HAD told him of our conversation and he wasn't pleased or impressed in the least by my honesty with her. It was on.
He started yelling before I was good and in the door. The kids were right behind me. I tried to reason with him reminding him that the kids are right here, we just got in and they're hungry. I needed to cook dinner and get them settled in before we talked. He was all "Fk the kids!"
I sent them upstairs, told them to put in a movie and turn it up loud, lock the door & don't answer it for anyone but me because this was about to get real ugly real quick.
I didn't yell at my kids & they weren't allowed to have screaming matches w/each other so this was all VERY new and scary to them. I can't imagine the fear they must have had.
I get there to drop him off, say a quick hello & introduce her to her granddaughter who's now 11. We go inside so my daughter can meet her half sister and half brother who live w/his mom. The kids got involved in fishing in the pond behind the house w/their dad - GREAT! I have some alone time w/mom. Now, I don't know this woman from Adam but I figure the best way to be is straight up. Mrs. X, I just need to tell you that I won't be picking him up. I can't have him at my house. He was never actually "invited" to stay and it's just not healthy for me or the kids. She tells me, well he can't stay here, I don't have the room so ya'll will have to work something out.
Okay, I see I have to go a little deeper here. Mrs. X, I was raised Catholic, & I'm raising my kids in the Church - I've never lived with a man I wasn't married to. I don't believe in it and it sets a poor example for my kids as well so he can't stay with me.
Again she says we'll have to work something out because she has "no room"...did I mention that my apt would soooo fit inside her livingroom??
Time to take the plunge. Mrs. X, I say while pulling up my shirt revealing several bruises that are still pretty black though they're 2 weeks old because apparently the black eye didn't raise an eyebrow from her, your son did this to me and he is not welcome in my home or in my life. He's already back drinking and I don't want to chance him hurting the kids. I called his parole officer and he won't talk to me because I'm not "family" and I need to make sure he never does this again!! ... there, I said it!
She then begins to scream at me some very degrading things along with "how dare I say that her son did something like this to me - he'd NEVER!".
Ya know, this just isn't quite how I imagined the conversation would go.Apparently she prefers a life of denial about her "little angelic son".
I walk out of the house, call to my kids to hurry because we have to get back home,put them in the car as quick as I can and I'm outta there! My only comforting thought was "at least he doesn't have a key to my apartment"!
The weekend was less than relaxing because I didn't know if he was going to show up or if she would tell him of our conversation, but it sure was better than spending another day w/him! Sunday comes and goes and he doesn't show up...whew! I go to work thinking problem solved :-)
If only things were that easy! He's a smart man, I'll give him that. He knew that I wouldn't open the door for him if he came back while I was home, he got back to my house while I was at work. He apparently mastered the art of picking a lock during his many years in prison. If that don't just make a Monday a Monday, I don't know what does!
His mom had given him some money before she dropped him off so he walked to the store by the house and had gotten some vodka. He was sloppy drunk when I came home & waiting in the living room for me. He was pissed! Apparently his mom HAD told him of our conversation and he wasn't pleased or impressed in the least by my honesty with her. It was on.
He started yelling before I was good and in the door. The kids were right behind me. I tried to reason with him reminding him that the kids are right here, we just got in and they're hungry. I needed to cook dinner and get them settled in before we talked. He was all "Fk the kids!"
I sent them upstairs, told them to put in a movie and turn it up loud, lock the door & don't answer it for anyone but me because this was about to get real ugly real quick.
I didn't yell at my kids & they weren't allowed to have screaming matches w/each other so this was all VERY new and scary to them. I can't imagine the fear they must have had.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
He's Back! Positively GAC - 800 pound Jesus
I'm watching GAC's Positively GAC. For those who don't know what that is, it's the Great American Country channel and during this time, the videos they play all have positive messages.
The song 800 pound Jesus caught my attention. I'd never seen the video & thought it was quite fitting for this blog so I'd like to share it with you.
That last scene caught me off guard and the tears came flowing down from out of nowhere.
I can relate to that mom all too well. Her daughter comes home, mom's sitting alone freshly bruised. Her daughter reaches her hand out to her, mom takes her hand while jerking back slightly before she makes contact. Out of the whole video, that's the part that caught my attention the most. It's something that I think that most people watching it wouldn't even notice & those who do notice would probably think that it's because her daughter's touch would hurt a fresh bruise.
What I see is a mother trying to "protect" her daughter. Kind of like "Don't Look and it Won't Hurt". For her daughter to touch it, makes it real. Not only to the mother, but to the daughter as well. Abuse hurts the whole family, not just the person who's being abused.
The song 800 pound Jesus caught my attention. I'd never seen the video & thought it was quite fitting for this blog so I'd like to share it with you.
That last scene caught me off guard and the tears came flowing down from out of nowhere.
I can relate to that mom all too well. Her daughter comes home, mom's sitting alone freshly bruised. Her daughter reaches her hand out to her, mom takes her hand while jerking back slightly before she makes contact. Out of the whole video, that's the part that caught my attention the most. It's something that I think that most people watching it wouldn't even notice & those who do notice would probably think that it's because her daughter's touch would hurt a fresh bruise.
What I see is a mother trying to "protect" her daughter. Kind of like "Don't Look and it Won't Hurt". For her daughter to touch it, makes it real. Not only to the mother, but to the daughter as well. Abuse hurts the whole family, not just the person who's being abused.
He's Back! The Weight of Being the Secretary of Social Responsibility & Abused
Are You Trapped in an Unhappy Marriage Because You Believe That You Can’t Afford to Leave?”
I think what bothered me most...why I wasn't running into the streets w/a megaphone hollering "XYZ" is abusing me, help" was my job. Secretary of Social Responsibility. Think about that for a moment. That was a "heavy" title to bear for me already. This seemed to magnify both the title, and the weight of it. Abused women came to US...then again, so did prisoners who'd done time for every crime you could think of (there were 7 departments under social responsibility) including abuse. I just put that together while writing this.
ANYWAY, it then occurred to me that I have a plethora of resources for abused women at my fingertips. A rolodex of help right in front of me - literally! The unfortunate thing was that I sat in a secretarial pool. There were 3 of us in the same office. No privacy. All of these places want your name, address and phone number. I couldn't even pretend I was calling on a client's behalf because I wouldn't have been able to leave my information without the other secretaries learning of my situation.
It was almost 2 weeks later, and he hadn't raised his hand to me again since that night he was drinking so I didn't view my situation as being urgent anymore. I decided to take a few days to think about how to do this. I mean, in my mind, I wasn't an "abused woman" per say. I was a woman who he had abused on ONE occasion...and he'd been drinking that night...and he was very apologetic afterwards & appearing to be honestly regretting hurting me...and I got rid of the alcohol...and he of course promised the he wouldn't drink anymore...and swore on his grandmother's life that he'd never raise a hand to me again. Sound familiar?
I think what bothered me most...why I wasn't running into the streets w/a megaphone hollering "XYZ" is abusing me, help" was my job. Secretary of Social Responsibility. Think about that for a moment. That was a "heavy" title to bear for me already. This seemed to magnify both the title, and the weight of it. Abused women came to US...then again, so did prisoners who'd done time for every crime you could think of (there were 7 departments under social responsibility) including abuse. I just put that together while writing this.
ANYWAY, it then occurred to me that I have a plethora of resources for abused women at my fingertips. A rolodex of help right in front of me - literally! The unfortunate thing was that I sat in a secretarial pool. There were 3 of us in the same office. No privacy. All of these places want your name, address and phone number. I couldn't even pretend I was calling on a client's behalf because I wouldn't have been able to leave my information without the other secretaries learning of my situation.
It was almost 2 weeks later, and he hadn't raised his hand to me again since that night he was drinking so I didn't view my situation as being urgent anymore. I decided to take a few days to think about how to do this. I mean, in my mind, I wasn't an "abused woman" per say. I was a woman who he had abused on ONE occasion...and he'd been drinking that night...and he was very apologetic afterwards & appearing to be honestly regretting hurting me...and I got rid of the alcohol...and he of course promised the he wouldn't drink anymore...and swore on his grandmother's life that he'd never raise a hand to me again. Sound familiar?
Saturday, July 18, 2009
He's Back! Abuse is NOT your fault!
Are You Trapped in an Unhappy Marriage Because You Believe That You Can’t Afford to Leave?”
Needless to say, it was a L-O-N-G weekend for me. Being how he was out on parole, my next step was to contact his parole officer first thing Monday morning. Nieve as I was, I thought that was going to be an "easy solution". I'll be out of this situation in no time, right?... WRONG!
Monday morning comes and I call down at probation and parole. Eventually, I get his parole officer's name and extention and have to leave a message. My message? "Hello, this is xxx xxxx. I'm calling in reference to yyy yyyy and I understand you're his parole officer. yyy yyyy beat the hell out of me this weekend and where I did call the sheriff's office to have him removed from my home, he apparently managed to get his name on my lease w/o my knowledge or permission & they refused to make him leave and they didn't want to take him with them either, so I was wondering what YOU can do about him. I have 2 children in the home, he won't leave and I'm in fear for our safety. Please call me at (work number) at your earliest convenience. Thank you". I called several more times that day hoping that I would get a live person, but no luck and no call back. For the next few days at work, I basically got paid for calling probation and parole.
Then.. it happened.. I called and got a real live human being! I introduced myself and tried to explain the situation. He interrupts and asks me "mam, how are you related to Mr. yyy yyyy?". I said " well, I'm the mother of his first born, does that count for anything?". He says "I'm sorry, but I can only discuss his case with family members". I try to explain that I don't want to know anything about "his case", I just want to know how to get him out of my house and away from me & my children. He tells me he doesn't have his file yet since he's a new parolee, so he'll look into it as soon as he can & hangs up!
His audacity left me dumbstruck!
It was time to confide in someone. For some reason though, the last thing an abused woman (or man) wants to do is tell someone. I don't know why. I knew that it wasn't my "fault", and if you're being abused by someone - that's a VERY important thing to know. IT'S NOT YOUR FAULT!
Needless to say, it was a L-O-N-G weekend for me. Being how he was out on parole, my next step was to contact his parole officer first thing Monday morning. Nieve as I was, I thought that was going to be an "easy solution". I'll be out of this situation in no time, right?... WRONG!
Monday morning comes and I call down at probation and parole. Eventually, I get his parole officer's name and extention and have to leave a message. My message? "Hello, this is xxx xxxx. I'm calling in reference to yyy yyyy and I understand you're his parole officer. yyy yyyy beat the hell out of me this weekend and where I did call the sheriff's office to have him removed from my home, he apparently managed to get his name on my lease w/o my knowledge or permission & they refused to make him leave and they didn't want to take him with them either, so I was wondering what YOU can do about him. I have 2 children in the home, he won't leave and I'm in fear for our safety. Please call me at (work number) at your earliest convenience. Thank you". I called several more times that day hoping that I would get a live person, but no luck and no call back. For the next few days at work, I basically got paid for calling probation and parole.
Then.. it happened.. I called and got a real live human being! I introduced myself and tried to explain the situation. He interrupts and asks me "mam, how are you related to Mr. yyy yyyy?". I said " well, I'm the mother of his first born, does that count for anything?". He says "I'm sorry, but I can only discuss his case with family members". I try to explain that I don't want to know anything about "his case", I just want to know how to get him out of my house and away from me & my children. He tells me he doesn't have his file yet since he's a new parolee, so he'll look into it as soon as he can & hangs up!
His audacity left me dumbstruck!
It was time to confide in someone. For some reason though, the last thing an abused woman (or man) wants to do is tell someone. I don't know why. I knew that it wasn't my "fault", and if you're being abused by someone - that's a VERY important thing to know. IT'S NOT YOUR FAULT!
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
He's Back! Abuse & Alcohol - A Little of Both
Are You Trapped in an Unhappy Marriage Because You Believe That You Can’t Afford to Leave?”
One of my 3 jobs at the time was bartending. I've never been a drinker, but I did keep a well stocked bar at my house for entertaining and "practicing" bar tricks. I've never had any use for a drinking man though so my next trick was a disappearing act. I poured every last bottle down the drain and have never bought a fifth of liquor since.
Now mind you, I don't think that every man who takes a drink is going to be abusive, nor do I have anything against having a few drinks every now and then. I simply said that I have no use for a "drinking man". I've never wanted a man that (for whatever reason) stopped off at the bar on the way home, or who's routine included having a drink at the end of the day much less one who over-indulges on a regular basis where-ever, whenever, & for whatever reason. What I consider a "social drinker" may vary from the rest of the world. I have no problems with going out every now and then and having a few drinks, nor do I have problems w/the friday night poker games drinking or monday night football drinks, etc. In my eyes, there's a world of difference between someone who drinks, and a drinker - the latter, I just have no use for in my life.
One of my 3 jobs at the time was bartending. I've never been a drinker, but I did keep a well stocked bar at my house for entertaining and "practicing" bar tricks. I've never had any use for a drinking man though so my next trick was a disappearing act. I poured every last bottle down the drain and have never bought a fifth of liquor since.
Now mind you, I don't think that every man who takes a drink is going to be abusive, nor do I have anything against having a few drinks every now and then. I simply said that I have no use for a "drinking man". I've never wanted a man that (for whatever reason) stopped off at the bar on the way home, or who's routine included having a drink at the end of the day much less one who over-indulges on a regular basis where-ever, whenever, & for whatever reason. What I consider a "social drinker" may vary from the rest of the world. I have no problems with going out every now and then and having a few drinks, nor do I have problems w/the friday night poker games drinking or monday night football drinks, etc. In my eyes, there's a world of difference between someone who drinks, and a drinker - the latter, I just have no use for in my life.
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