Note: Tumblr is not usually for this sort of thing, but I am looking for the broadest exposure possible; it will be used only for this and only once. Please bear with me, and then we’ll get back to happy fun things. This is a re-post from “Homeless Chronicles in Tampa, 5/22/2013.”
First, a short explanation, before the longer one, and a warning. This is being directed at my 3rd ex-husband, Bill Nunnally, and it is vengeful. The reason it is so, is that I found out recently that he is currently the Head Poobah at Gulf Coast Jewish Family Services, out of Lakeland or Sarasota. A little background here; my mother worked for them and had her B.S. In psychology. Part of me can’t help but think that one of the reasons he is there, is because she worked there. I take it as a slap in the face, although I walked out the door in January, 2005, never to return. I had recently been released from the hospital with congestive heart failure and the atmosphere was so corrosive in the house, I was afraid of having a heart attack and dying. I truly believe to this day, that Bill wanted that to happen, and was doing his level best to make it so.
After Bill (henceforth “Crapweasel”) and I were married, he very arbitrarily decided to give up a 70k job a year at IBM and get his B.S. In psychology. No discussion with how it would impinge our standard of living; he just did it for himself, as he did most things. I would have preferred he not do that, but that was his unilateral decision, as were many major decisions in that marriage. After graduation, he worked at a number of menial jobs for shitty pay, like he was going to save the world, and that would make up the difference. My assumption is that he is about as good as saving the world as he is at marriage. I was number 4. Shame on me. Over my ever-screaming instincts, I felt I may be able to reason with him. I wasn’t and over time, I was scared of him. But I was afraid of my mom too and all of that old baggage came home to roost in spades.
He ended up at HKI, which is one of the more corrupt social welfare organizations. This is a for-profit that handles children’s services for Hillsborough County. When I was homeless, I saw first hand how bad the place was from what had once been the purview of the state. By that time, Bill “Crapweasel” Nunnally and I had long been divorced. I saw children see-sawing back and forth between horrible foster parents and even worse birth parents, while incompetent social workers, who were having affairs with the parents and mis-managing the cases dragged out these cases. The kids were a mess, pulling out their hair compulsively, biting their fingernails, being dragged around and used as bargaining chips.
Our marital problems started before I started showing signs of Parkinson’s Disease, but at the time, I had no earthly idea what was going on. First, I lost my vision and lost it rapidly. What I didn’t know then, but would shortly find out is that I had congestive heart failure, probably because of my Young Onset Parkinson’s Disease. He started screaming and yelling at me; mostly about how I was lazy and about my “many illnesses.” The one exchange that stands out? Bill “Crapweasel” yells, “We need money, and all you do is sit there and look at that goddamned book!” I was trying to look at the larger pictures in a Time Magazine, since it was really all I could see. On the one hand I was so frightened and alienated and also bored, I needed to take my mind off of this whole mess. So, he’s yelling at a blind woman. I couldn’t drive and had been fired from Chase Manhattan. I sued them and won with the ADA act, but that came later, after I fled from my home. And who in the hell is going to hire a newly-blind woman, who can’t drive? What would that job description look like? Christ!
It’s 55 degrees Fahrenheit in Tampa. I look like I’m in Siberia. Just say “nyet.” I should have done that during the marriage vows.
Every day was a complete and utter hell. His old room mate from before we were married had moved back in with us, as he had lost his job; Bill felt sorry for him and he was treated better than I was. I ended up in the hospital with congestive heart failure. 2 weeks later, I drove home, vision only in one eye, hopelessly scared of what I would find. I found my mom’s cat so sick, he wouldn’t or couldn’t eat. I had to take him to the Vet. The Vet was so kind, but he told me, “look, I can run tests on him, but it will be over 500.00.” I didn’t have that kind of money. I had about 100.00 and Bill “Crapweasel” was giving me no money. I had no job, no prospects of one and the idiots at Unemployment cut me off when I was hospitalized because I wasn’t out looking for work. Seriously, who is going to hire someone with one eye and a bad heart? I was coming up on my 50th birthday. Karma is a bitch they say. His granddaughter was born on my 50th birthday, so in that way, he will always be reminded of that time. I hope he remembers it with shame, but how can you shame a person who has no honor, compassion or empathy?
I told the Vet all of this about the money and my situation, and he said, “spend all the time you want with him. Normally euthanasia is 100.00. I’ll do it for nothing.” I said my goodbyes for an endless amount of time and then held him, as the Vet put him down. I cried all the way home. The room mate buried him, (an aside, I got a package from the room mate a while back, with his phone number, saying “Call me some time. “We’ll get together.” Yeah. As if.) but then when Crapweasel got home from work that night, he told Crap what had happened. Crap wheeled around and said “You murdered Dwayne!?” very melodramatically, as if I had just killed a room of small children. Oh, goody. More mental cruelty. I can see it for the melodrama and shameless manipulation that it was now, but then? It just was too, too sad.
I just looked at him and went back into my computer office where I was sleeping. It really takes a certain kind of special hypocrisy to voice this. This is the man, who, when his own Great Dane was dying under the front porch, tried to make me help him drag him out to the back 40, so he didn’t have to hear his screams.
The truth is, Bill Nunnally is a weak man. He cannot face weakness in others or flaws because he himself is so utterly weak in character and flawed. He likes to think he is a survivor, yet he has to use others to do so. When he returned to school, I started paying half the bills again, when prior to his unilateral decision to return to school, he was earning far more than I was at the time, so he picked up the larger share. Without me, he would not have been able to go back and finish his B.S. He exhibits delusion, self-aggrandizement and self-righteousness here, along with the most stunning hypocrisy and amoral behavior I’ve witnessed in many a year.
While I was in the hospital, Bill “Crapweasel” Nunnally got a girlfriend, because his wife was “broken.” He kept bitching about my “incipient weirdness.” Well, it takes guts to live with someone who has Young Onset Parkinson’s Disease. JC’s seen my dementia, tremors, been with me many times to the hospital and been with me through my Baker Act. Yup, been there through my committal. He’s there with my legal blindness. He’s also there with my triumphs, writing awards and laughter and good times. Unconditional love is just that. I wonder what Bill “Crapweasel” Nunnally’s bosses at Gulf Coast Jewish Family Services would make of his being unsupportive and unfaithful to an ailing wife. I’d love to be a fly on that wall.
YOPD is not a choice and after thinking back, I am convinced my mother had it. There are no more completely “good” days. But through force of will, and the realization that life is truly to be savored and experienced, by damn I’m experiencing and loving it. I am still the same fuck-up I was, only more so, but I’m smarter and tougher and I got that from my PD. I also developed an insight and a very complex set of tools to help me navigate this new life. Couldn’t ask for a better trade off. Hell, I should have left you years earlier.
After being hospitalized for 2 months and homeless for 11 months, I received full disability; no 2 year waiting period. 5 months; record time. Tremors, bipolar disorder I, pain and all the other ills that come with it are just part of it. What I experienced 12 years ago is nothing compared to what I deal with now, but I am tough and clear-minded. I also don’t let go of things, until I am goddamned good and ready and this baggage is going out the door, here and now. If I hadn’t found out that Bill Nunnally was now working at a place that my mother loved, I wouldn’t have written this post. But, I feel her memory somewhat defiled. I deal with negativity in my own way. This is my burden to lay down.
Bill? When you thought I was depressed after the death of my mother? That wasn’t it. I just realized that the one person who loved me for me was gone, because I knew you didn’t. I always knew it. You will never give yourself over to any woman, because women are beneath you. Actually, you have it backwards. You are beneath me. Asking for money all the time. What kind of man are you? You can’t even be truthful to yourself. I know I’m an alcoholic; I told you that. I stopped that shit.
So, here’s the kicker, Bill gets a girlfriend while I’m in the hospital, fighting for my life. I stole his phone bill. Yup; I sure did and called the tapioca-headed bitch and basically told her that if she married Bill “Crapweasel” Nunnally, he would do to her what he was doing to me. He came home that night, full of self-righteous indignation and high dudgeon. “Where’s my phone bill.” I had my blind eye towards him; I liked that part about being blind. “I don’t have it.” He had the temerity to say, “You’re a liar.” I almost, almost, almost said “At least, I’m not a philanderer.” Damn, I so wish I had. Unlike you, I was faithful throughout the marriage.
I realize there are faults on both sides, but when one goes out to deliberately kill a marriage, there is truly something wrong. The mental cruelty practiced was at a level I had not witnessed since my parents’ marriage. You told me at one point, that you were hoping I would “just pack my shit and leave.” Eventually, I did before you could finish me off by letting my own ill-health engulf me. I don’t normally talk of this and I will not again, but I think for once, someone needs to stand up and say, “you know what? Bill Nunnally, you’re a flaming asshole and all of your talk of helping children and saving and doing this and that is pure bullshit. You can’t even take care of a family properly. Who in the hell are you to try and teach others?” Family to you are those vapid daughters your crazy ex raised. Their idea of a rich life for them is Cheer and trips to Disney World. Oh, and yes, those who can’t do, teach. Unfortunately, that maxim went out ages ago. The most skillful of teachers are those of us that can do and do it quite well.
Trying out LifeCam; like my unmade bed? I’m as domestic as a bobcat.
Yeah, Bill you asshole, I have 2 beautiful clear eyes; I finally got that 2nd surgery, it’s just that my brain doesn’t see one image. It’s called Parkinson’s Disease. I’ll probably outlive you; I’m happy. Because you’re not my problem anymore. This post is strictly because of your WTF move to Gulf Coast Jewish Family Services, and because it’s your Birthday! A slur to my mother’s memory if there ever was one, you giant bag of dicks.
What I got from the divorce settlement about covered what I put monetarily into the marriage, but the scars run deep. It’s okay; scar tissue is tough. You did however, keep my mother’s iron skillet, which had been her mother’s 200.00 into a good violin, 200.00 into a good Australian Shepherd and a mix-master his daughters got me for mother’s day. And you never, ever attempted to pay me back for the 5k for my IRA, which you promised you would, but then, what did I expect? A man’s word is his honor and you have none. Today, May 22, 2013 is your Birthday. I hope you enjoy this present from me!
P.S. Before you start hollering slander or libel or any of that nonsense, think of this; I’m legally blind, have young onset Parkinson’s Disease, am Bipolar and on full disability. I’m pretty sure a lawyer would take that up in a heartbeat and it will not hold up in a court of law, and do you want that kind of press? I gave in on the divorce. If you want to have a fight over who said what? Bring it on. I will not back down, because it is the truth and you know it.
P.P.S. I debated with myself for quite a while before deciding to do this. This is from my gut. I have found as I’ve aged that my gut instinct is reliable and not to be ignored. I could have set up false accounts and yada yada yada. I certainly have the computer know-how and the black art to leave no traces, but I had rather bring this into the open. Lest Bill think I am kidding about slander and libel, let me just say that there are things I know that I am sure he would rather not have brought out into a courtroom. Behavior witnessed at the house on Annie Street, that I did not participate in. Let me leave it at that and you leave it and me alone. I’m done.