My Verbally Abusive Marriage

Marc wakes me up at 3AM and says, “You need to go with Taylor’s mom to take the car he took back to her house.”

“What?!” I say, registering the time.

“Taylor drove over here without permission and now his mom is outside our house demanding you drive their car back to their house.”

“What?!” I say, registering nothing.

“She’s outside yelling and cussing. You have to get up.”

So I did that, but I didn’t go out until I’d questioned Marc. Taylor gave Marc $20 some time ago to buy him some cigarettes. Marc didn’t have the money (or the cigarettes) so Taylor had taken a family car without permission and come over here to smoke the (legal) salvia Marc had purchased from a local smoke shop in lieu of repayment.

I would have rather sent Taylor the money, but then I had known nothing of the $20, the promise, or the plan pertaining to how Marc was going to repay the money. Never mind that Taylor was going to sneak over to my house at the wee hours of the morning. On Marc’s school night.

I decided that I wasn’t going to drive the other car anywhere. We had doctor appointments in the morning; I had obligations, but driving this kid’s car back to his house wasn’t one of them.

I went to the living room and asked Taylor’s mom what had happened. She was indeed upset; she said Taylor had stolen her car and that I had to drive it home for her. Right now.

I said, “No. I have an early morning – ”

“Well so do I!” she snapped.

I knew that I would have helped her in other circumstances. I may have even helped her later today if she wanted to talk instead of order me around. However, I knew that I had to get to the bottom of what was going on with my own son and driving around in the middle of the night (and being driven back home by a screamer and blamer) was NOT either good for me OR what I “needed” to do.

I worry for Taylor. I’ve known this kid for a long time. I’m saddened and shocked by some of the reports of his behavior I’ve heard. I don’t want Marc to be his friend, but he is. I don’t want Marc to take part in sneaky plans (even for a legal plant), but he is. I don’t want screaming parents showing up at my door in the middle of the night, but one did.

Even though Taylor’s mom was acting like this was the end of the world and I needed to help her do something, it wasn’t the end of the world. I would have preferred NOTHING to happen at 3AM, but I didn’t have to stop my own life because it had.

“Fine, KELLIE!” she yelled at last. She stormed off into the headlights of the car she had driven to my house.

I talked to Marc briefly, then made him go to sleep in my room so I knew where he was. After a good old-fashioned round of second-guessing myself, I decided that I had made the right decision in not helping the mom out – especially at that time of the morning. It was pointless to keep myself up worrying about the “should I” or “shouldn’t I” questions. If I laid there awake torturing myself, I may as well have driven the woman’s car home and endured a return trip with a screaming blamer.

So I went to sleep. It was a good sleep. I got up on time, took Marc to his doctor appointment, also on time, and pressed forward with my goal to become emotionally, mentally and physically healthy to INCLUDE living up to obligations (like doctor appointments).

And I feel good. I feel really, really good about not driving that kid’s car home last night. I feel really good about telling his mother I wouldn’t do it (and grateful that she started yelling before the “old me” could hint that I’d help her later). I’m grateful that I didn’t jump all over Marc because of the way another person was acting or because I thought another person thought I should act a certain way.

Mostly, I’m grateful that I took the time to decide for myself what I was willing to do or not. I can’t remember the last time that happened in a “crisis” situation.

Is this what being proud of myself feels like?

Possibly Related Posts:

1. A Necessary Evil
2. Running Away
3. Promise Me A Rose Garden
4. Distraction
5. 20 Minutes

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