Enaila's Diary

[Enaila]

Now I am in tears. I just spent thirty min on entry and it only posted three lines.

 

[Enaila]

I've been feeling depressed the last two days. It is close to another anniversary date so maybe that is why.

A box came today and was on the table when I got home this evening. Inside it was an afghan blanket of grandma's as well as some old pictures she had kept. It was hard seeing the kids dad as I remember him when we were in love and when the abuse wasn't so bad.

There was also a letter from one of his friends telling what a good person he was and how his heart ached for his boys. The guilt I felt after moving away from him to protect my children returned along with the "what ifs" Would he still be alive if I hadn't moved away? Would he have somehow gotten better and been safe for his boys? What if I had helped him find the right kind of help?

My sister quickly pointed out I wasn't the one responsible for his actions, he was, but I don't know....there is always going to be some doubt in my mind I'm afraid.

 

[Enaila]

Another senseless death and new flashbacks. I am so tired of the flashbacks!

I want able to help her as she didn't want to get help. I feel guilty for not staying by her and being more encouraging, but she reminded me too much of my ex. She was an alcoholic and liver failure from the alcoholism finally killed her.

Meds kicking in and keyboard blurring.....guess will have to continue another day........

 

[Enaila]

Alcohol is such a deadly drug. People give me a hard time because I don't want to drink it, but it has killed many people I cared about after changing their personalities.

She was a friend I had something in common with as our sons were together in scouts. We spent time talking during the boys' meetings until the day when she volunteered to be a driver for a camp out. The other scout leader and I decided she could take gear and her own son to the campout, but the two of us would drive the kids as she was too unpredictable. We set out for camp and it was evening by the time we got there to set up the tents. A winter storm had moved in, but the boys had prepared for that.

The scout leader and I started to set up our own tents, but I was worried....my friend hadn't shown up yet. I went to the nearest house from where we were camping, as cell phone service was not available, and called her. A police officer answered the phone and told me about how my friend was drunk, and while she was safe and so was her son, I needed to come and get her and her vehicle from where they had been pulled over.

I was confused. The other scout leader and I headed out to assist. I was mad. I had been put in this position before by a drunk husband. It started to blow snow as we went to get her. Upon arriving, we were met by the police officer who said my friend had managed to get her vehicle stuck in some loose gravel on the side of the road and was unloading all the gear from her vehicle when he arrived. He didn't want to arrest her as she explained where she was headed and how people were depending on the gear. He had also seen her son anxiously waiting to see what the officer would do.

I drove her vehicle to camp. She just laughed and said how good looking the officer was. Once at camp, it was too windy and late to set up her tent and mine, so we had to sleep in the back of her SUV. It wasn't a pleasant night for me. She laughed, smelled horrendous, and then snored loudly once she fell asleep. I don't think I slept any. I was cold and angry.

In the morning she was asked to take her belongings and head home. Her son could stay, but we couldn't have the boys exposed to her drinking and she had brought plenty to drink. Her alcoholism was getting worse. She was mad at me, but I had to do what was in the best interest of the boys entrusted to my care. She continued to bring her son to a few more meetings after that, but refused to speak to the adults. (Her son died a few years ago from a motorcycle accident and it sent her deeper.) It bothered me to see her struggle, but I didn't think I could help her...when I saw her, I was kind. I encouraged her to get help, but what more could I do?

She died this week. The alcohol ate away at her liver and she died of liver failure. Could I have done more? Could I have been a better friend? The same questions I had about my ex husband flashed through my mind. She had a disease....one she needed to want to cure and get help for. I did the best I could with what I knew how to do at the time.

 

[Enaila]

Woke up tearful this morning, but it was nice to have a dream about boys at a young age since that is a time frame still blocked from my memory except for the traumas. My youngest had lost a shoe and after walking across a hard green and red jello ocean and not finding it, I gave up and carried him to the nearest store to find soft slippers.

 

[Enaila]

The smell of the burnt rotten flesh invaded my nostrils, but I had to be strong and not let her see I was afraid of how she looked. How could another human being be so selfish to do this to someone? Did they make him see pictures of those he hurt so badly at the trial?

My good friend and I entered the room hesitantly after the nurse had helped us garb up in all the gowns, masks, and other measures that had to be taken to be near someone who had burns over 90 percent of her body. Our high school best friend needed us and that thought kept the two of us moving forward into the room.

Her beautiful black hair was melted to the side of her face and the smell of melted hair and burnt flesh threatened to overcome me. I was 14. Things like this weren't supposed to happen to young people.

Our school had excused my friend and I from school for the day to make the 90 minute visit to see our friend in the hospital. Her family car had been hit from behind by a Mac semi, driven by a drunk driver, as they drove home from the annual family hunting trip. Half her family had witnessed it as they were in a second vehicle. Our friend's mom had been thrown from the vehicle through the windshield and killed on impact as she hasn't been wearing a seatbelt. Her brother, also in front seat, suffered minor burns, but our friend had the gas tank knocked under her from the impact and it exploded. Her underwear and bra areas were the only areas the skin was not charred.

We were sent to wait in the waiting room while it was time for the twice daily bath to remove the dead skin off our friend's body. Nothing will erase the sounds from my mind of her screams as she endured those painful procedures. We would do what we could to dry her tears and cheer her up after. The pain meds had little effect on things during the procedure. Afterwards, she was elsewhere in her mind....we would quietly tell her we would be back and let her sleep.

It would take over three months of hospitalization and many many surgeries, to get her to be able to function. During our visits, the nurses would look the other way when we had wheelchair races down the hall, would bring the three of us girls chocolate milkshakes, and would shake their heads at our school stories. With time, her body healed, but her mind was never quite the same. I didn't know about Ptsd then. I only knew about being a friend.

 

[Deleted member 12723]

With time, her body healed, but her mind was never quite the same. I didn't know about Ptsd then. I only knew about being a friend

You sure have been through so much pain. My adult son was a raging alcoholic and go killed, while driving under the influence on his motor cycle.

I have hear about what has to be done to burn patients in order for new skin to grow.

You are such a good friend. Take good care of you.

 

[Enaila]

You sure have been through so much pain. My adult son was a raging alcoholic and go killed, while driving...

Sorry about your son. Alcohol it's just so addicting to people. There doesn't seem to be any simple answer to it. It made my husband, when I was married, basically....no....not basically...he did rape me sometimes or press himself on me. It made him angry and abusive as well as deceptive. It also killed him.

 

[Deleted member 12723]

:hug:

 

[Enaila]

Continuation from post #34. Second attempt.

My husband was arrested and taken to jail. I was stunned and afraid. Why had they allowed him to leave the police station if he was guilty? I was told he would go before a judge in three days.

The next morning I heard some noises as I went to go outside. A neighbor across the street had written in angry red letters, "YOU ARE A PIG!" Stupid neighbor as he had written a lot of it backwards; however, he made it known by his cussing he was referring to me. I hadn't a clue why he was being so aggressive, but I was afraid.

I contacted the Women's Coalition, who had helped me in the past and requested their help. They were able to find out information for me and asked if I could stay with a friend until the hearing before the judge. I called a friend in another town and went to stay with her.

 

[Enaila]

While at my friends, I stayed in contact with the coalition. They told me how my husband was under investigation for the theft and had admitted to the crime, but for a leaner sentence he could assist them with a drug investigation. The stolen property was at the house of a suspected drug dealer, who happened to be across street from me. They were getting a warrant to recover the stolen property from the dealers residence, but my husband interrupted the process by going and recovering the stolen property himself. The police were angry at having a three year investigation blown by him. The anger was somewhat directed at me, as well, because they didn't see how I couldn't know about the drug activity.

I was raising two babies and working full time. I was naive about drugs and alcohol then. I was just trying to keep my babies and I alive from an abusive husband! How come THEY couldn't see that?!!! I wish I had had the strength to have shared some of that then. I doubt they would have cared and probably would have just made them angrier.

THEY were the ones who allowed him to leave the station...NOT me!

Time for a grounding break....deep breath.

 

[Enaila]

Was about to start diary entry, but remembered t suggested no writing right before bed as my nightmares get worse. Guess I need to remember to type right after work. So much to remember.