April through July, following the visit from the deputy was not fun. Everything I knew of the man I had shared my life with for 25 years was thrown into a blender and tossed in the air. I knew a straight-arrow, logical, honorable man. Over the years, he’d frequently shown contempt for men he considered sleazes, and didn’t hold back when he saw me made uncomfortable, whether it was a customer in our lifestyle store or someone who had me backed into a corner at a Christmas party. He also didn’t believe there was sexism in the workplace, because when he was hiring he only looked at qualifications, not gender. It was difficult to convince him that not everyone operated that way.
Also significant was that he was the father of a daughter, and had been a girls’ softball coach. He had often told me of the girls with absent parents who played on the various teams and often needed rides to games and practices. He never drove any of them alone, his daughter was always present, at a minimum. How do I reconcile the past with this current iteration in front of me, filled with excuses, blatant lies, and snarky comments?
Every time he ran an errand, I drove myself crazy, checking to see where he’d gone and if he circled the parking lot. I had good cause to do so. When confronted, he was outspoken, insulting and glib.
Sometime in April I came home unexpectedly early from running errands and could hear his computer upstairs blaring with someone talking. Because his hearing is also diminished, he needs the computer loud and he did not hear me come in. I walked up the stairs to let him know I was home and realized he was closely watching a porn video. I blurted out “what is that?” He jumped and quickly closed the window. His response was “Some trash, I don’t know where that came from, I was looking for basketball scores. Hmmmm.” He’s always been quick with the fibs.
Don’t bother to tell me about the number of normal people who watch porn. I’ve heard it more times than I can count. What I do know is this isn’t normal for him; I would have known about this sooner in our 25 years together. For that day, I gave up with confrontation or begging and pleading, but I wasn’t able to maintain that.
I felt abandoned. I didn’t know the person I was living with, the medical community told me he only had mild cognitive impairment, and even the local sheriff’s office refused to come back and put a scare into him, stating that it was a family matter and just have a good talk with him to let him know his attentions weren’t appreciated. It seemed society *expected* me to fix this and keep him in line.
Next up - the neuropsychological exam in June.
