The Inigo Montoya saga

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

OK, Inigo Montoya, fans. Here’s the explanation. This will look a lot like a life story, but anything any of us do is but the most recent chapter in a life story. For a tale to make sense you can’t start in the middle at say, The Decisions of Master Samwise. You can, however, skip The Council of Elrond and, inasmuch as such chapters may exist in my life, we shall.

In High School I hooked up with this girl. Ended up marrying her 10 years later. During those 10 years we split up for maybe 3. This was largely because she’d become dissatisfied with me for some reason or another and find another guy while I was away at college. This is much like someone growing dissatisfied with the grapefruit diet and, when the grapefruits become scarce, pigging out on ice cream for a month, and then going back to the diet. After a time, she went to college and I, having just finished up with an English degree in the economy of 1989, became a drunk. Hung out with a group of folks who, among other things, were junkies. Swell bunch. Always respected my decision to choose life and never pressured me to shoot up with ‘em. I felt a bit like an anthropologist and a babysitter. You know the person who’ll drive you to the hospital when you OD? That was me.

So, we got married in December 1992. I’m in The Army, she’s banging out a 4 year degree in 3 years, getting honors, Cum Laud, 2 majors, Abshire research award. Brilliant girl. 1994 she graduates & we move to Savannah, GA to finish up my enlistment & beget children. All is more or less groovy for 11 years.

At this point, Inigo will do some laundry: The Mrs. Montoya’s ma was a drunk, so any ACOA people can chime in and explain why she might be a type-A over achiever with ADD tendencies and serious issues with abandonment. Her dad was a verbally abusive WWII combat vet drunk—45 years old when she was made. So, she’s got some issues. Me? My old man died during a 6x bypass (my 6-fingered man!) when I was pretty young & Ma was/is an ignorant, bible-thumping hick from rural Arkansas with absolutely no patience for…well, anything at all, let alone me. Anyways, I turned out to be a pretty nice guy if a little ignorant. And of course, crazy. One of the ways I deal with being crazy is to dampen my emotions and that makes me come off as cold. Add to that my wonderful parenting skills courtesy of The Bible and rural Arkansas and I shape up to be a bit of a jerk as a father and not all that interesting as a husband. The wife? Researched the crap outta parenting & child development, determined not to fuck her kids up the way we had been. She’s an awesome mom who chose to stay home with the kids and raise ‘em right as opposed to incurring a net financial loss by getting a career and paying for daycare and putting our brood in the hands of strangers all day long. Would have worked if she wasn’t a combination of brilliant and type-A.

So going into 2004 what we have is me, trying to make a living for this family and not doing all that well on 1 ½ incomes (the paper route is the ½), general stresses are worsening the mental illness which is being dealt with by further decreasing emotional responses. Inigo is now ice cold. Mrs Montoya is getting fed up with being broke, not in control and “wasting” her mind & life as a mommy.

November 2004, Inigo finally breaks going into the holidays. Mrs. Montoya is aware that he’s had a problem but isn’t paying too much attention because Inigo is still going to work and not turning up dead, so everything must be back on track. In retrospect, this is the case because she’s become infatuated with a guy at the newspaper job and her unfeeling & grouchy husband is not exactly foremost in her thoughts. During the course of his recovery, Inigo re-evaluates his priorities, vows to put the wife & kids first come what may financially and make a conscious effort to be a go father, and not to make his kids grow up without one. Suicide is ruled out of future options for this reason. 6 weeks later, Mrs. Montoya’s infatuation blossoms into a moderate physical relationship and Inigo, after 22 years of familiarity, confronts his spouse point blank inquiring as to names and nature of the relationship. Stunned by his psychic abilities, she comes clean.

Her refusal to dump the other guy led me to conclude, “Fuck this.” And reverse a long standing repugnance to divorce when kids are a factor. Once I told her I was leaving, she told me no, that’s crazy, and she’d stay away from the guy and work on our marriage. And there was much rejoicing. Kinda worked out that way too, except she would gradually drift back to him. As a resolution to avoiding divorce, which would mean time away from my kids, I gave her the gift of “open marriage.” See the dude all you want and be a good mom, and I’ll be a good dad and no longer be the 100% devoted husband and explore options for fulfillment on my end. Works for me. Drove her absolutely nuts to think of me with someone else. Me too—I don’t want anyone else, I don’t work that way. So this is where we are Thursday Morning. She comes home from the paper, says she’s officially told him to pound sand, she’s going to be my wife again. Yeah! Well, I noticed a look on her face that I hadn’t seen in 15 years.

Remember my junkie friends? They’d get the same look when they realized they’d waited a tad long between hits and that they’d best get to work scoring & cooking up. Sure enough, that night after putting the kids to bed she’s off for a drive to get her fix. What she gets from him is more emotional in nature. Know that “in love” feeling? She’s addicted to it. Especially after being cooped up with The Ice Man for so many years. Well, she comes back after 20 minutes or so, seems he’s not around. Mom in the hospital or something. She now has the other look the junkies would get—when they realized they didn’t have the cash or connections to get any gear right now, the liquor store is closed and that it they were in for a long nervous night. Sure enough, she collapsed into a gibbering pile right in front of me. These days, I’m just a spectator in my own marriage. Should she say the word, she can have my heart and unconditional trust, no strings attached. So I viewed this all more with interest and concern than with jealousy or anger. Over the weekend she learned he was with a woman who is “just a friend.” So I’ve been watching with some amusement as she convinces herself that he’s not cheating on her.

So here we are now. I see so much in her mind right now that I know she’s off balance and crazy even by my standards. Yesterday I even suggested she spend 2 or 3 weeks with him—day in & day out—as a sort of test drive to see if that would help her decide to give the rest of her life to junk or to clean up and stay home. After an hour of explanation to prove I wasn’t BSing her, she called him. But he was at his “just a friend’s” house for the evening. This is painful to watch, but addicts don’t clean up when you tell them to. They clean up, if they do, when they decide it’s time to clean up.

On December 21, 1992 I said “for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, whither thou goest I go” as my part of two unilateral agreements. She’s strayed from hers, I am not straying from mine until she tells me to do so. I view all this as some sickness & some worse.

2

Inigo, that is mighty rough. I don’t think I’d have been able to stick with it as long as you have. I can’t give you advice, because I’ve never been married, or in a situation even remotely similar, but I feel for you, and wish you the best of luck with all this.

3

Hey Inigo, I’ve been following along at home so to speak. I’ve been in those shoes before, i know it’s sucks. I don’t have any useful advice other than my last which could be summed up thusly: Run. However I also find your sticktoitness understanble, like I said, I did it too. I hope everything works out.

4

We’re here for you, Inigo. If love junkies are anything like alcoholics, she’ll need to hit bottom before things improve. I hope It’s not too painful for you. Best of luck.

5

I’ve anticipated that. The quasi-open marriage arrangement gives me the room I need. I’ve identified her feelings toward me as “fondness” and “love” as in friend, but not love as for a spouse. She no longer feels the spiritual bond of marriage. I’ve grieved it, I’ve accepted it, I no more expect it from her than I would from a good friend. I still have a spiritual attraction to her, however, and actually want to look after her, as a friend would, and be there for her when she does hit bottom.

RUN was my initial instinct, and an understandable one. But as I reflected on that option it became clear that it would be counterproductive to what I want long-term. I might still, but in the mean time I’ve no place else to be, and nothing else I’d particularly like to than rebuild the relationship with a person who has been good to me, and pretty damned understanding for so many years. I can’t justify tossing all that out over this. If I leave, there is no hope of rebuilding. If I stay, there is a miniscule hope. Something is better than nothing, and she needs me just as the junkies did. I owe her a shoulder as a friend & as a human, whether or not I should expect the same from her should the tables be reversed.

6

Been there too. In my case, no kids. But in my case we went through three or four floozies (that I knew about) before one stuck. They are now happily married (as am I).

My big word of warning, if this guy doesn’t work for her and she is indeed a “junkie” she’ll find another guy. You can’t control who these guys are or what they do. Some of my ex’s girlfriends went after me in an attempt to pry him loose. One pulled the “I’m dead” trick on her next boyfriend. i.e. some of these girls were a few cards short of a full deck - and the quasi-open relationship thing seemed to attract the loons like a still lake at sunset. I wouldn’t want kids in that mix. But, then again, as long as you are “together” you can at least keep a better eye on the kids.

7

Just as the rest of your fellow Dopers, you’re in my thoughts Inigo. Just be careful not to fall back into the mess, and protect yourself, above all.

8

As I said earlier, I don’t know that I’ve ever loved anyone enough to try to do what you’re doing now. I would’ve cut & run. I hope it works, I fear it won’t. Either way, I’m here for you.

9

Wow, Inigo. That’s a hell of a situation you’ve got there. I’ll be pulling for you!

10

My fear is that as this continues… and it has for quite some time now (it appears)… it will erode your own self worth. It may have already done some serious damamge.

Also, since nobody has brought it up so far, I know you are worried about the kids. As a good parent you are right to do so. How old are they? If this continues and as they get older they will catch on (if they haven’t by now) and I would worry about the kind of message you may be sending them about healthy adult relationships.

As much as it pains me to say it, and I know where of I speak, divorce may be the ‘better’ alternative for everyone’s sake… even the children.

Don’t allow this to wear you down to the point where you don’t recognize yourself any more. It’s okay to think of yourself first every now and then. If your spirit is broken by this, you won’t be of any use to your kids.

All the best to you.

11

Brother, here’s a phrase I think would be well-employed in this situation: “On second thought, you know what? Fuck this.”

I am experiencing rage on your behalf. There’s a special circle in hell for people who want to go “try on something new”, free of consequences, while the other waits faithfully tending the home fires.

Consider accepting that you failed in judging your wife’s character, before you start falsely convincing yourself that you have larger and deeper failings than you actually do. I admire your desire to do right by your children by making sure they have a father, but just because you get a divorce doesn’t mean that you can’t be present or influential children in your kids’ lives. Besides, what good is a ruined man as a father?

You did your best! You applied heroic efforts! Consider picking up the pieces and moving on.

12

And in afterthought, I’d also ask you to reflect on the concept of “chronic relapse” if you’ve observed it in your erstwhile chemically recreational companions.

13

My own self worth improves every day, actually. Because of all this. It’s difficult to explain, but my symptems (hallucinations/delusions) have abated quite a bit which frees up a lot of mental energy for…well, for being a human. Could be because of how I’ve redefined myself–my existence makes more sense when I think of myself as a father to 3 little kids AND I act the part. The uncertainty of what she’s going to be like when I get home seems more than offset by stress I refuse to accept at work in the name of advancing a career. My mood is improved (despite what the Pit thread appears to say–I still have bad moments just like everyone else) and my customers are easier for me to work with despite a batch of unusually tricky situations (I’m a claims guy), so I seem to be emitting greater confidence and/or compassion. The kids are responding as well now that they don’t need to worry whether mean daddy or nice daddy is coming home–it’s always the good one who has time for them the instant he walks in the door.

It’s a vicious cycle–the kids are much less miserable when I’m home, which allows me the mental energy to be good to them. I go to bed happy, wake up in a good mood, play with the kids, go to work & be candid (as opposed to Professional) & playful with my customers (who frequently have fresh facial stitches or broken bones), get them to laugh off the accident & be grateful they still own the leg even though it’s broken and that the car is the only thing that’s dead…usually, the claims get settled much more quickly, my performance improves noticeably, boss reccommends me a nice raise (today in fact, 10%) because it’s about that time of the year, I go home happy & play with the kids.

Mrs. Montoya is seeing this. She is noticing who I have become and that it’s been a steady improvement since the beginning of December. I invite her to “come home” several times a day and hug her like she’s loved. I just got off the phone with her and she’s singing the “There is no better man than you, am I crazy?” song again. “Yes on both counts, come back to us and heal whenever you’re ready” is what I tell her. I remember not wanting to go home as a kid, there’s no way I’m going to let ANYONE I love feel like that.

Things are not optimal, no. There is still a big problem, yes. But while it is getting to the point where I don’t recognize myself anymore, this is a good thing because I sucked before. If my children have a clue about what’s going on, and I think the 9 year old does, then the adult relationship image they are seeing is that adults make mistakes, get into trouble, become afraid, cry and look after each other. I got no problem with that either.

I can see how this situation would be unbearable, and I can almost hear you all doing :smack: at all this drivel, but unless you’ve been “seriously nuts” it has to be hard to believe that THIS is much less stressful than paranoid delusions and haunting apparitions that aren’t really there. Maybe I AM delusional right now and think things are better than they seem. Maybe my kids aren’t climbing all over me when I get home, maybe the boss was talking about SAVING 10% on my salary for this year, maybe my claims are getting settled more efficiently because I’m ignoring the pleas and whimpers of my customers. If so, then this is one hell of a nice delusion and there’s no way I’m hitting the meds just yet!

14

Mmmmm. Yes, and should the marriage survive this episode this is on the menu of shit to clear up. I’ve already joked with her about this. Last time she did something like this was 11 years ago, not quite this involved, but a breach nonetheless.

Projecting into the future I can expect this when she & I are about 50–at which time I’ll probably say, “Great, at least one of us is getting a little action” and then again at 61 by which time I’ll be dead at the hand of the 6-fingered man–NO male from my father’s side of the family (following just the father line–rather an impressive stretch of guys who’ve produced sons, actually) has made it past 60 since we kept records, and my tree goes back to 1614! Heart trouble or Indian killings, usually, and the Indians seem to be pretty much under control these days.

15

No head smack from me. I think that you have balls of steel.

16

I meant that as a good and noble thing. May not have been clear.

17

You say you were Savannah in 1992. I wonder if we ever crossed paths?

18

You, sir, are far stronger than I could ever be. I find it interesting how you’re the clear-headed and detached person in this situation.

It seems she really is a junkie, as it were. This “love” is not simply emotional stuff - I see it is a purely internal chemical reaction. As some people need to inject certain substances to attain a certain reaction, for the reaction she’s seeking she needs to be certain people. But if she’s really addicted - and I’m in awe of your ability to notice what’s going based on your experience with previous addicts - then her breaking free from this will be difficult, if indeed she wants to. I believe she first needs to know there’s a problem. Maybe you may want to strategically play Robert Palmer’s “Addicted to Love” to her, just to see if that’ll get her more aware of what’s going on.

(As an aside: people run after love, without realizing that this reaction fades after a while. As people build tolerance to certain substances, a person builds tolerance to the person who beforehand caused such strong reactions. Love fades, and new people are looked for. Unless other feelings, such as caring, concern, etc., rush in to fill in the void left by the departure of the strong passionate love. Or so my theory runs, but then I am cynical anyway.)

You’re strong, man. I’m in awe of you. Go you!

WRS - a big fan of Inigo Montoya (the Doper, not the movie character).

19

Another Inigo Montoya Doper fan here. It takes courage to splay the wreck that is their lives for the world to see and anyone who can do it with punctuation and style gets points in my book!

Perhaps you are viewing this entire episode with your wife quite like the time you spent with the junkies, anthropologically speaking. Living your life like a zoo keeper is very entertaining, no? Being able to clinically detact yourself from the situation and see the entire panorama of chaos about you is a trait that very few have. Most tend to run around like a drama queen/spongebob. “Oh Woeee is meeee.” Which really serves no purpose other than teaching your children that spazzing out is the correct manner to handle chaos and to get burnt badly in the flames of life instead of Stop-drop-roll-get up-hands in the air Nadia Comanechi style and smile for the crowd.

Do your kids have any idea what is going on?

20

The kids know somethings up but I think they have no idea as to the magnitude.

And there IS still plenty of Inigo curled up in a corner bawling his eyes out at the loss. Last night was realy awful, for instance.