Curt's Story (Second in a Three Part Series)
When last we left young Curt, he was just back from visiting the Canadian legal authorities and their fine facilities. It was during this time that Curt decided to grow up and find himself. An admirable goal, even if he had no strategy whatsoever to make it happen. A series of dead-end jobs (mostly delivering pizzas...in fact, he had worked for every chain in town and numerous locations of each chain, as well) didn't seem to give him much gratification (though he did gain an uncanny ability to map the entire city) and so he decided to enroll in community college.
Except for the fact that he'd never technically graduated high school, it would have been a pretty good plan. By this point, I was married into the family. A copy of Curt's transcripts were ordered so that he could try to find out what would be needed to get his higher learn on. Curt had not graduated from high school because he'd been asked to leave high school. Asked to leave because of an incident involving an elementary school girl and some inappropriate sexual shenanigans. It was never discussed in detail and I still have no idea exactly what happened. This was swept so far up under the rug in that family, that even the dust mites wouldn't be able to get at it. Curt made a few half-hearted attempts at getting his G.E.D., continued to be the pizza delivery baron, went through a number of vehicles (all of which were purchased by his parents), and continued to have minor skirmishes with the law.
This was about the same time his parents began to start "losing" large sums of money. Bank cards (or blank checks) would disappear and then their checking account would suddenly, coincidentally, become overdrawn. We all knew who it was, but his mother fervently refused to believe that her own son would steal from her. The first time it happened, she went to the bank and when they showed her video tape footage of Curt using her card at an ATM, she didn't know what to do. She refused to file charges and paid the bank their fees and the shortfalls and hung her head all the way home. Wee, Wee, Wee. After that, she just "took care of things", whenever Curt did this stuff, and would get out the broom and sweep the new stuff under the rug more and more frequently.
My ex-mother-in-law believed (or tried very hard to believe) that Curt was trying to do better. Because he told her so. Not that any fool looking at his behavior would believe any of the crap coming out of his mouth. I guess a mother's love is just as blind as the romantic kind sometimes. Curt was (still is, I would guess) very charismatic. Weaving elaborate motivational tales of how he was going to turn his life around. And all he needed to make it happen was $1,000. Or another car. Or someone to help him move. Or someone to give him a reference for a job. Or whatever he WANTED on any particular day at any particular time. Reminded me, for all the world, of a snake oil salesman. But, it wasn't my problem...at least not much...at that point.
Curt was trying to stay "clean", but when his mother found a case of beer in their garage, rather than confront Curt, she called my (then) husband and accused him of hiding beer at her house (why wouldn't he have it in his own place???) and tempting Curt. She was so angry with him that she was cussing him out and arguing even as he denied any involvement or knowledge of the situation.
Once the entire family acknowledged the fact that Curt was, once again, using substantial amounts of drugs and alcohol, they pushed, once again, for treatment. And Curt (who refused the help) was locked out of his parents' house. They changed the locks and refused to let him in until he got straight. At least that was the plan. It was probably too little, too late, by then. But it was an admirable decision, and I believe that had they stuck to their guns and done what it took then, Curt's life could have been salvaged.
Very quickly, Curt began seeing a therapist, who diagnosed him with a bi-polar disorder and prescribed medication to help him deal with the problem. The medication seemed to help his personality swings, but it had side-effects that Curt didn't like. Amongst them, significantly curbing his libido. And, surprise, he didn't like that one damned bit. Hard to be a manly man when you can't beat your woman and then drag her off to bed! So, he quit going to the therapist, and he quit taking the medication, and he started self-medicating again. And the cyclical fits of rage due to his own lack of self-worth resumed.
He broke back into his parents' house and threatened them. Calling his mother a 'cunt' to her face (a scene my ex witnessed, but did nothing more than not speak to his brother for a week about) and later punching her in the face. Well, to be honest, she called me prior to getting together for a family outing to ask if I had some foundation make-up she could borrow because she had a big bruise on her face. When we showed up, she had a black eye that, literally, covered half of her entire face. I know my two ex-sister-in-laws and I all gasped upon seeing it. We all assumed Curt had hit her. But, we were wrong. She explained that what had happened, you see, was that Curt was lying on the living room floor and she'd fallen (from a seated position on the couch) and landed with her eye hitting his hand. His hand had just happened to be in a fistoid position at the time of the fall. I mean, what are the odds of that? Honestly, though, this was the story she told. She really did. And she thought, for some bizarre reason, that any of us would believe that load of horse hockey.
After that, no matter what Curt did, he was never put out of the house again.
It was during this time that Curt met his second wife, Angie. She was a legal secretary and a student at the university here. She was cute and sweet and the entire family was scratching their collective heads trying to figure out what a girl as together as she seemed to be, could possibly see in the mess that was my youngest ex-brother-in-law.
At the summer picnic (the annual family reunion), Curt's sister had a very frank conversation with Angie telling her she should not continue her relationship with Curt and that she should get away as soon as she could. That she had far too much going for her and that Curt's first marriage had ended as a result of him beating the girl and that he would, eventually, beat her, too.
Angie was confused as to why Curt's sister was trying to get rid of her in such a hurtful fashion and, of course, completely ignored the advice that could have saved her so many tragic circumstances later. I wonder, sometimes, if she ever remembers that conversation now. If the regret consumes her. I believe, if I were her, I'd be replaying it mentally, almost daily.
When Angie became pregnant with Curt's child, she became his second wife. It was a lovely outdoor ceremony in the middle of the woods. As is customary for Curt, the beatings began shortly after the honeymoon. Before the baby was born, the police were being called for domestic disturbances. They were living in his parents' basement (again) and during a particularly nasty fight, Angie was screaming for help, prompting Curt's dad to come to the top of the stairs and ask if anyone needed help. When Angie said Curt was hurting her and to please call the police, the old man ignored her request and returned to his easy chair in the living room, trying to ignore the screams of the woman, pregnant with his grandchild, as she was being beaten by his son in the basement of his own house. Angie finally broke the leg from a nearby coffee table and beat him off of her enough to get away. She never forgave her father-in-law and she vowed that she would never again live in that house. Though she did not divorce Curt at that time, her relationship with her in-laws was never repaired.
They moved into an old farmhouse that belonged to her grandfather and continued to fight. Police were called to the property repeatedly. Angie began to fight back and, at one point, took a sledge hammer to the windshield of Curt's car. Curt asked his father to borrow one of his rifles (he had a modest weaponry collection) because of a problem with gophers on the property that he was trying to get under control. That's the first time that the other siblings stepped in and refused to allow it. Putting a gun into that environment would, most assuredly, have ended in a homicide. So, despite the fact that my ex-fil had agreed to allow Curt to borrow a gun, the guns were, at that time, removed from my former in-laws home in order to prevent Curt from getting access to one.
Once Curt's daugher was born, things continued to deteriorate. Curt and Angie split and reconciled three or four times. Angie began to drink heavily. Every time they got back together, Curt would end up hitting Angie. She called me once, after a particularly bad beating (once Curt had left to go cool off somewhere), and asked me what she should do. I told her to get to a battered woman's shelter and looked up the name and address for her. The family was none to pleased with me, but I couldn't keep looking the other way as easily as they did. When Curt came back home and couldn't find her and the baby, he called me. He asked if I'd heard from her, stating that he was remorseful. That what he'd done to Angie was blatantly assault. And I told him I had talked to her, but didn't know where she was.
Many assault charges and EPO's later, they divorced. And then began the travesty that was the custody case of their daughter.
You think you've heard it all? Oh, no. There's more. Tomorrow will be part three in the brief summary of the 20 year span that I knew this man.
Except for the fact that he'd never technically graduated high school, it would have been a pretty good plan. By this point, I was married into the family. A copy of Curt's transcripts were ordered so that he could try to find out what would be needed to get his higher learn on. Curt had not graduated from high school because he'd been asked to leave high school. Asked to leave because of an incident involving an elementary school girl and some inappropriate sexual shenanigans. It was never discussed in detail and I still have no idea exactly what happened. This was swept so far up under the rug in that family, that even the dust mites wouldn't be able to get at it. Curt made a few half-hearted attempts at getting his G.E.D., continued to be the pizza delivery baron, went through a number of vehicles (all of which were purchased by his parents), and continued to have minor skirmishes with the law.
This was about the same time his parents began to start "losing" large sums of money. Bank cards (or blank checks) would disappear and then their checking account would suddenly, coincidentally, become overdrawn. We all knew who it was, but his mother fervently refused to believe that her own son would steal from her. The first time it happened, she went to the bank and when they showed her video tape footage of Curt using her card at an ATM, she didn't know what to do. She refused to file charges and paid the bank their fees and the shortfalls and hung her head all the way home. Wee, Wee, Wee. After that, she just "took care of things", whenever Curt did this stuff, and would get out the broom and sweep the new stuff under the rug more and more frequently.
My ex-mother-in-law believed (or tried very hard to believe) that Curt was trying to do better. Because he told her so. Not that any fool looking at his behavior would believe any of the crap coming out of his mouth. I guess a mother's love is just as blind as the romantic kind sometimes. Curt was (still is, I would guess) very charismatic. Weaving elaborate motivational tales of how he was going to turn his life around. And all he needed to make it happen was $1,000. Or another car. Or someone to help him move. Or someone to give him a reference for a job. Or whatever he WANTED on any particular day at any particular time. Reminded me, for all the world, of a snake oil salesman. But, it wasn't my problem...at least not much...at that point.
Curt was trying to stay "clean", but when his mother found a case of beer in their garage, rather than confront Curt, she called my (then) husband and accused him of hiding beer at her house (why wouldn't he have it in his own place???) and tempting Curt. She was so angry with him that she was cussing him out and arguing even as he denied any involvement or knowledge of the situation.
Once the entire family acknowledged the fact that Curt was, once again, using substantial amounts of drugs and alcohol, they pushed, once again, for treatment. And Curt (who refused the help) was locked out of his parents' house. They changed the locks and refused to let him in until he got straight. At least that was the plan. It was probably too little, too late, by then. But it was an admirable decision, and I believe that had they stuck to their guns and done what it took then, Curt's life could have been salvaged.
Very quickly, Curt began seeing a therapist, who diagnosed him with a bi-polar disorder and prescribed medication to help him deal with the problem. The medication seemed to help his personality swings, but it had side-effects that Curt didn't like. Amongst them, significantly curbing his libido. And, surprise, he didn't like that one damned bit. Hard to be a manly man when you can't beat your woman and then drag her off to bed! So, he quit going to the therapist, and he quit taking the medication, and he started self-medicating again. And the cyclical fits of rage due to his own lack of self-worth resumed.
He broke back into his parents' house and threatened them. Calling his mother a 'cunt' to her face (a scene my ex witnessed, but did nothing more than not speak to his brother for a week about) and later punching her in the face. Well, to be honest, she called me prior to getting together for a family outing to ask if I had some foundation make-up she could borrow because she had a big bruise on her face. When we showed up, she had a black eye that, literally, covered half of her entire face. I know my two ex-sister-in-laws and I all gasped upon seeing it. We all assumed Curt had hit her. But, we were wrong. She explained that what had happened, you see, was that Curt was lying on the living room floor and she'd fallen (from a seated position on the couch) and landed with her eye hitting his hand. His hand had just happened to be in a fistoid position at the time of the fall. I mean, what are the odds of that? Honestly, though, this was the story she told. She really did. And she thought, for some bizarre reason, that any of us would believe that load of horse hockey.
After that, no matter what Curt did, he was never put out of the house again.
It was during this time that Curt met his second wife, Angie. She was a legal secretary and a student at the university here. She was cute and sweet and the entire family was scratching their collective heads trying to figure out what a girl as together as she seemed to be, could possibly see in the mess that was my youngest ex-brother-in-law.
At the summer picnic (the annual family reunion), Curt's sister had a very frank conversation with Angie telling her she should not continue her relationship with Curt and that she should get away as soon as she could. That she had far too much going for her and that Curt's first marriage had ended as a result of him beating the girl and that he would, eventually, beat her, too.
Angie was confused as to why Curt's sister was trying to get rid of her in such a hurtful fashion and, of course, completely ignored the advice that could have saved her so many tragic circumstances later. I wonder, sometimes, if she ever remembers that conversation now. If the regret consumes her. I believe, if I were her, I'd be replaying it mentally, almost daily.
When Angie became pregnant with Curt's child, she became his second wife. It was a lovely outdoor ceremony in the middle of the woods. As is customary for Curt, the beatings began shortly after the honeymoon. Before the baby was born, the police were being called for domestic disturbances. They were living in his parents' basement (again) and during a particularly nasty fight, Angie was screaming for help, prompting Curt's dad to come to the top of the stairs and ask if anyone needed help. When Angie said Curt was hurting her and to please call the police, the old man ignored her request and returned to his easy chair in the living room, trying to ignore the screams of the woman, pregnant with his grandchild, as she was being beaten by his son in the basement of his own house. Angie finally broke the leg from a nearby coffee table and beat him off of her enough to get away. She never forgave her father-in-law and she vowed that she would never again live in that house. Though she did not divorce Curt at that time, her relationship with her in-laws was never repaired.
They moved into an old farmhouse that belonged to her grandfather and continued to fight. Police were called to the property repeatedly. Angie began to fight back and, at one point, took a sledge hammer to the windshield of Curt's car. Curt asked his father to borrow one of his rifles (he had a modest weaponry collection) because of a problem with gophers on the property that he was trying to get under control. That's the first time that the other siblings stepped in and refused to allow it. Putting a gun into that environment would, most assuredly, have ended in a homicide. So, despite the fact that my ex-fil had agreed to allow Curt to borrow a gun, the guns were, at that time, removed from my former in-laws home in order to prevent Curt from getting access to one.
Once Curt's daugher was born, things continued to deteriorate. Curt and Angie split and reconciled three or four times. Angie began to drink heavily. Every time they got back together, Curt would end up hitting Angie. She called me once, after a particularly bad beating (once Curt had left to go cool off somewhere), and asked me what she should do. I told her to get to a battered woman's shelter and looked up the name and address for her. The family was none to pleased with me, but I couldn't keep looking the other way as easily as they did. When Curt came back home and couldn't find her and the baby, he called me. He asked if I'd heard from her, stating that he was remorseful. That what he'd done to Angie was blatantly assault. And I told him I had talked to her, but didn't know where she was.
Many assault charges and EPO's later, they divorced. And then began the travesty that was the custody case of their daughter.
You think you've heard it all? Oh, no. There's more. Tomorrow will be part three in the brief summary of the 20 year span that I knew this man.
posted by SuperWife | 7:56 AM
3 Comments:
I'm completely enthralled. You had me at alcoholic drug addict maniac.
lol.
sorry, that's not funny.
Actually, Marci, it kind of is.
If only it were as simple as 'alcoholic drug addict maniac'...
I will add, though, that one of the most freeing things in my divorce was getting away from this crap.
I've been busy as Hell (as, in, whatever) but I wanted to be sure to at least add some applause to these entries.
Substance abuse isn't something that runs strong in my direct family, but I have some tinfoil hat and attempted homicide tales... though I don't know that I'll be getting to them in public.
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