Today I have been sober for 123 days.

I am sure I will receive a lot of flak for this, especially from those who are already convinced I treat all my women appallingly, but I have to report that yesterday morning, I “blew my new lady out’, and at this very moment, I am at home in Pattaya, having failed to take her home for new year with her family.

I am not proud of this, and in many ways I feel very badly about breaking my word yet again and letting someone down, but I believe that I made the correct decision.

So what happened?

Yesterday morning I failed again to make the morning AA meeting as I just felt too sleepy and lazy. Apart from a supreme effort on Christmas Day, I haven’t been attending regular meetings for well over a week, and although I had been to the odd meeting in Jomtien, it was looking as though I was slipping into bad, lazy habits.

But yesterday I did manage to make the “meeting after the meeting” at Starbucks, where a few of the regulars go for a chat and a coffee.

One of my good and wise friends from that group took me aside and told me something that deep down, I already knew – that the longer I stayed away, the more difficult it would be to go back again, and that I would then start to convince myself that I didn’t need to go at all, as I was now ‘cured’. He couldn’t have put his finger on the nail more accurately if he tried. I had indeed been wondering whether I needed to keep attending daily meetings.

But the next thing he told me was a bit of a jolt to my system. He said that many alcoholics with four to six months sobriety under their belt often did as I was doing, and that the inevitable next step would be to convince myself that I wasn’t an alcoholic after all and that it would be OK to have a few drinks. And we all know where that would lead.

I agreed that he was probably quite right on all counts and told him that I would be back on a regular schedule in the New Year, but for the next few days I would not be attending meetings as I was going away. He asked me for details, and he didn’t look too impressed when I told him about my new lady and my plans for the New Year.

“You think I shouldn’t go then?” I asked him.

“Too Goddamn right you shouldn’t go” he replied, with surprising intensity for a mild mannered, quiet person.

“Why?”

“You’ve only got four months sobriety, you’ve almost quit going to meetings, you’ve had suicidal depression, and now you want to get involved with a new lady and become immersed with her family and their problems, rather than sort out your own.”

“Yes… well… I see what you mean. I didn’t really think about it in that way.”

“Of course you didn’t. You are a newly recovering alcoholic; you won’t be able to think clearly about things until at least a year has gone by.”

“So you think I should cancel her out?”

“I think that concentrating on your continued sobriety is much more important than going up country with this lady.”

It was as though there was a flash of light and I suddenly realised that he was making complete sense. What indeed was I doing? I was planning a New Year’s trip with a lady who, although I had known for quite a while, I certainly did not know at any intimate level, and more importantly, I had to admit that I had little or no feelings for. WTF was I doing? Trying to massage my ego? Trying to forget all my problems? Trying to get into her knickers? All of the forgoing, and some other ignoble reasons that haven’t so far occurred to me.

As I started to contemplate the real possibility that I was going to ‘blow this lady out’, an uncanny sense of relief and calm came over me. I realised that I really didn’t want to go at all, but had just been led into it in my usual blind, illogical and herd like instinct, and the very idea that I didn’t have to go through with it was enough to give my depression a lift.

We talked some more about the pros and cons of going versus not going, but I knew that my mind was made up. I would stay in Pattaya and spend New Year here, probably alone.

So on my way to the twelve noon Jomtien meeting, I made a very painful call, telling her that I was a mean selfish lying bastard, but that unfortunately I wouldn’t be taking her to her home. I told her that I really didn’t want to go, and there were also health considerations to consider if I went up country at this time, and that I wasn’t prepared to compromise my own well being. She said nothing and I hung up.

The deed was done and I am sure I will never see her again. She doesn’t know where I live, and I have no intention of making further contact. This is the best thing I can do for her well being, although she may not realise it at the moment. She is well rid of me.

At the noon meeting I had a long share and disclosed a lot of my current problems and events that I had been struggling with. I felt much better after that, and a few even came over to thank me for being so honest in my sharing.

Feeling better, I went to Central Department Store, treated myself to a Japanese lunch, (which I love), and then went on a spending spree and bought myself some clothes – the first time I have done this in a very long time. I came home and tried to have an early night, to be sure that I woke up in time for my morning meeting, but even with a sleeping pill, I still didn’t drop off until around 1.30 a.m. and struggled mightily to wake up and make the meeting, which thankfully I achieved.

I was welcomed back like a long lost friend. I didn’t think that  anyone would be so concerned about me after a comparatively short absence, but they clearly were and I was deeply touched. I will do my best not to disappoint them, or myself again.

MOBI’S STORY – (PART 28)

THE RETIREMENT YEARS (CONTINUED)

So what had been going on in Bangkok during the period that I was planning to leave my wife, and the period immediately after I left her?

It wouldn’t take a genius to figure it out. I was getting involved with yet another lady.

I have previously related how I came to Thailand a couple weeks ahead of my wife, ostensibly for our summer holidays, and by the time she arrived in Bangkok, I was back in the UK moving out of the marital home. During my brief period in Bangkok, I fell into the habit of getting drunk every night in bars on Soi 33 off Sukhumvit Road, and in particular there was one bar where my bottle of Black Label was sitting behind the counter, awaiting my nightly arrival.

Along with the ever patient bottle, there was Mei, an incredibly cute and sexy young thing, who didn’t speak a word of English. The bar I frequented was unusual, inasmuch as nearly all the customers were not farangs, but wealthy, middle class Thais who wanted to indulge a bit of ‘slap and tickle’ before heading off to their respectable wives and kids in the family home.

My Thai, which I hadn’t used in any serious way for years, as my wife spoke excellent English, was suddenly put to over extended use in conversing with the new lady in my life. When I had lived in Thailand in the 70’s and 80’s I had been exposed to a huge level of Thai as all my jobs were with Thai companies, but as most of the senior management in these companies spoke reasonable English, my spoken Thai remained extremely basic. So I cannot really account for the fact that when I met this non-English speaking lady, within a short while we were able to converse quite well, and as time went on my Thai improved in leaps and bounds.

I can only assume that my previous exposure to Thai during my eight odd years in Thailand, all those years ago, together with almost daily exposure to my wife’s Thai when she would speak to friends and relations must have been burnt onto my brain’s subconscious ‘hard disk’, and was just awaiting the opportunity to be copied and pasted into my conscious memory when I returned to Thailand and met people who could not speak English.

When I returned to the UK to move out, my relationship with Mei was still in its infancy. For sure I had bought her many drinks, and we had spent many hours canoodling in her bar, but I had not yet bedded her.

However, when I returned to Thailand to start my new life, the relationship took off like a rocket and within a short while Mei had moved in with me in an apartment I was renting on Soi 15, although she still maintained her own room in Bang Na. This fact should have raised some alarm bells, but I was too busy drinking and drowning my sorrows at my failed marriage to think about such things, and typically for me, it wasn’t long before I was absolutely besotted with the new woman in my life and she could do no wrong.

At first, things were just wonderful. We both enjoyed drinking and going out and enjoying ourselves, and we spent many a happy night getting drunk in various night joints across Bangkok. I had bought a second hand jeep and we made trips to places like Pattaya and Cha Am where we also lived it up.

But the idyllic existence didn’t last, and it wasn’t long before conflicts began to surface. Most of the problems revolved around her propensity for disappearing and sometimes staying in her own place, rather than with me. On many days she would leave in the morning and not return until evening or sometimes not at all. These instances caused fights, and as she was an extremely feisty young lady, when I was upset about something, she would give as good as she got.

Then, out of the blue she suddenly turned up one day with a tiny puppy dog. She informed me that now she had a puppy, she would have to stay home in her room every night with it, and just visit me in the day time. I objected to this plan so vehemently, that she gave up the idea, but as a counter move decided to move the puppy in with me.

Her previous habits, of disappearing all day, still  continued, and now I was left with the dog to take care of. Not a happy situation.

Life did eventually start to get better one day when I agreed to drive her to her family home up in Loei, and stay the night there with her. Upon our return to Bangkok, I agreed that I would spend some money to fix up her mother’s house, which was in a terribly dilapidated condition and then we made the significant decision  that we would buy a house in Bangkok and live there together as husband and wife.

After this, she seemed to have a much better attitude towards me, there was less sneaking of to her own apartment and I felt happier about my new relationship.

I may have been stupid, but not that stupid, and resolved to buy the house in my name so one of my friends recommended a lawyer who would help me set up the necessary Thai company to achieve this.

In the meantime, Mei introduced me to some friends who lived off the Bang Na highway, around twenty kilometres south of Bangkok and not too far from a large, upmarket housing development called Thana City. Thana City was huge, and had its own golf course, as well as an Olympic sized pool within its grounds. Mei’s friends, (the husband was a cop), had some contacts there and to cut a long story short we eventually located a nice little three bedroom house that we agreed to buy. I duly met with the owner and put a cash deposit down to secure the purchase, and the documents signed at that time indicated that the house would be purchased through my Thai company which was in the process of being set up.

At about this time I had to return to England to settle various affairs which included getting my daughter moved into the house I was buying there. So I met with my Thai Lawyer, who was still in the process of setting up my company and agreed with her that as soon as everything was completed, she would inform me by email and I would remit the money to her in order to complete the purchase of the property through my company.

Then I made a huge mistake. Mei became extremely upset when she learned that I was planning to remit funds to the lawyer, and told me that I shouldn’t trust any lawyers in Thailand. She suggested that instead of trusting the lawyer. I should send the money to her, and that she would arrange with the lawyer to have my money paid over to complete the house purchase in the name of my company. This all made perfect sense, and I took down her account details before travelling back to England.

While I was England, and particularly when I was in hospital for my operation, I called Mei constantly and followed the progress of both her mother’s house repairs, as well as the purchase of our new home in Thana City, along with the furnishing and fit out. Before leaving Thailand, we had obtained some quotes for furniture, landscaping, air conditioning and so on, and all the funds required for these expenses were remitted to Mei so that she could arrange to get everything done and dusted by the time I returned to Thailand.

So as recounted in an earlier episode, I finally arrived back in Thailand, very tired and quite ill but in a state of high expectation that my ‘darling’ would be there to greet me and whisk me off to my new home, where I would receive nothing but adoration and tender loving care.

I walked slowly into the public area of the arrival lounge, my trolley packed to the gunnels with personal effects, stuff for the new home and presents for my beloved.

I looked around – no sign of Mei. I looked again and again, and couldn’t see her anywhere. I eventually made my way to a seat and waited for a while, assuming she had been delayed in traffic. I felt a bit of a letdown after my high expectations, but it wasn’t the end of the end of the world. She would surely turn up soon.

But she didn’t, so I called her number. There was no signal – she had turned her phone off.

I started to think the unthinkable and felt the sweat of panic and despair starting to trickle down my face and back.

Today I have been sober for 121 days.

I received a comment in my blog the other day from a lady who said some very nasty and hurtful things about me and my life. I will publish and respond to her comments in due course, but need to collect my thoughts on what she has said before doing so.

Amongst other things, she accused me of being pathetic and in her opinion my behaviour that was the main cause of the breakdown in my relationships and that I had treated my wives appallingly and it was no surprise to her that I was now all alone.

In many ways she is correct, and I would never try to deny it.

I am certainly pathetic, and I have certainly contributed very heavily to my current misery and all the bad things that have happened in my life – particularly my inability to have a happy relationship.

The point that she seems to have missed, is that I when I started this blog, I never claimed to be anything other than what I am – a pathetic alcoholic who is struggling with life and trying to stay sober. My stories are not written with any pride or self justification, they are being written as honestly as possible, so that my readers will understand how an alcoholic often destroys his life, and all too frequently ends up dead before his time, either by his own hand, or due to illness or alcohol induced misadventures.

It is an established fact that alcohol is nowhere near as addictive as hard drugs, and probably even cigarettes. The experts tell us that alcohol dependency is more of a mental condition than an addictive condition and this explains why nearly all alcoholics can stop drinking for days, weeks, months, and in some cases for even years at a time, without any obvious ill effects, then, only too frequently, the alcoholic returns to ‘the bottle’ when his or her mental state somehow determines that they can now drink in moderation, or that a ‘one off’ single drink will do them no harm. This is why it is so important for the recovering alcoholic to have good and regular support, such as AA provides, and to never stop drawing on that support, regardless of the number of years he or she has remained sober. Once an alcoholic – always an alcoholic.

You will see from what I have written in “Mobi’s story” so far, that my drinking was forever reaching new heights, (or depths!), and that my mental state – my ability to make sensible, life changing decisions and logical judgments – was becoming more and more impaired.

Since I have been attending the various meetings of Alcoholics Anonymous in Pattaya and Bangkok, I have had the good fortune to meet and talk with a surprising cross section of alcoholics from all over the world, from all walks of life and of varying educational backgrounds: from business leaders, to university professors to semi literate ex cons. I have come to realise that in many ways we are all very similar to each other; we have comparable stories to tell and we all have the same demons to fight, such as depression, numerous failed relationships, selfish behavior, feelings of guilt and regret, and so on.

In particular, depression is a major part of the lives of so many alcoholics and I doubt if there are many readers who would deny that depression is an illness, even if they dispute the notion that alcoholism is also an illness.

So in due course I will respond further on the comment I received from this lady, and try to deal specifically with the points she has raised. For now, let it suffice for me to say that all you, dear readers, are free to make any comments, criticism or judgments on my life that you choose, but to simply throw insults at me is unhelpful, for I have never denied that, in keeping with many of my fellow alcoholics, I am one of the most pathetic, selfish and self absorbed people you are ever likely to meet. Unfortunately, it is an essential symptom of my condition. It is only by going through a difficult process of intense self examination and trying to correct the worst of my character defects, that I can have any hope of achieving long term sobriety.

Today seems to be a much better day. I think the news about my wife’s infidelity was good for me, for I suspect that somewhere in the inner reaches of my subconscious, I was still clinging to the idea that she might suddenly appear out of the blue, convince me that all my suspicions were wrong and that if I went back to her she would be the most perfect wife that had ever existed. Out of sight is definitely out of mind, and as I hadn’t been suffering daily insults to my intelligence by her unacceptable and unreasonable behaviour, I was starting to forget how bad she really was. This news which I received yesterday, has shaken me out of my revery with a rude shock, and maybe now I can really expurgate those pathetic dreams that I will somehow find happiness by nestling once more in my wife’s treacherous bosom.

Last night I went to see the lady who “blew me out” on Christmas Day. We had a long talk, and I understand her a lot better now. She has worked at a restaurant / bar for the past six months, and had also previously worked there before going back home to take care of her mother for a couple of years. I know for a fact that she has never slept with any customers, and as a result she is very poor, living on her meagre salary and shared tips, nearly all of which are sent to her family. I know the owner, (who has recently tried to stop drinking – but that is another story), and he confirms that many of his customers have been quite upset in the past because she will never agree to go out with any of them.

She is certainly a rarity in promiscuous Pattaya, and I have to admire her determination and spirit. She is twenty seven years old, childless (of course), and is very attractive. I have known her for over three years, and I know she cares about me. She told me that she had decided not to go out with me on Christmas Day because she thinks that I just want to sleep with her and then dump her, and she suspects that I take a different woman to my condo every night. Anyway the conversation moved to the future and she told that she was going home on New Year’s Eve and invited me to go with her. She said she will be there at least a week, and may not return to Pattaya.

I gave this a bit of thought and eventually told her that I would take her to her home (near Arunyapathet), and would stay one or two days there. (These days, I can only take Thai village life in small doses, especially as I am a non drinker). I said that if she wanted to come back to Pattaya I would go and get her. She was very pleased with this offer, and said she wanted her parents and family to meet me. Now this could turn out to be a major disaster, and if she starts to hit on me for too much money and all that jazz, then I will beat a hasty retreat. But she really doesn’t seem to be that kind of person, so I will see what happens. It will do me good to get away from Pattaya for a few days. I really don’t feel like spending new Year here, as I am not in a celebratory sort of mood.

I have one more day to change my mind, but the way I am thinking now, I’ll give it a go.

In the meantime, my depression has lifted and I am feeling more cheerful.

Today I have been sober for 120 Days.

I am still fighting my depression. I have spent the last three days largely in my room, only venturing out briefly at night to get something to eat. I have missed meetings and must make a big effort to go tomorrow.

This morning I found out through a reliable source that my wife has a Thai boyfriend. This didn’t come as a complete surprise, as I had suspected that might have been the case. There were a number of factors that fueled this suspicion, and if it is the guy I am thinking of, she has been going out with him and sleeping with him for a very long time. During the past year or so she has spent a great deal of time with the owner of the hairdressing school where she used to be a pupil, and has gone away on many occasions with him, to various functions in Bangkok, and even on a trip to Kanchanaburi. I know she used to see him regularly, even when in Pattaya, so I guess he is the one.

When I heard this, it was like someone had suddenly punched me in the stomach, and sucked the air out of my lungs. I like to think that I have largely got over my feelings for her, but news like this still hurts a lot. I don’t know why – maybe it is my ego, but I have been with her for six years, she is a very beautiful woman, and the idea of her sleeping with another man (Thai or otherwise) and probably cuckolding me for years, is a very painful truth to live with.

Fortunately the extreme pain didn’t last too long, and although it still hurts when I think about it, for the most part I can live with it.

Although I am still badly depressed, it nevertheless shows how far I have come in my recovery, for at no time today did I feel like picking up a drink. Six months ago I would have laid on such a drunken binge that I wouldn’t have sobered up for a week.

I do not feel suicidal today, so maybe I am over the worst.

MOBI’S STORY – (PART 27)

THE RETIREMENT YEARS (CONTINUED)

During the period I was in Thailand alone, before returning to England to move my stuff out and send that “divorce fax”, my drinking had reached new levels. The planning and the execution of my divorce plan had unnerved me and I had this terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. The only thing that took it away and made me feel half way ‘normal’ was copious amounts of whisky. I was well into  Black Label whisky during this time, and I had a bottle with me in the hotel, and  bottles behind the bars in all my favourite drinking places on Soi 33.

A typical day would see my waking up in the afternoon, feeling like death warmed up, getting a few beers down me to stop the shakes, then forcing some late breakfast into my empty stomach, before taking off to the bars around Sukhumvit. Eventually I would reach the bar where my latest bottle was awaiting my attention, and only then did I start to feel better, and the feeling in my stomach would start to dissipate. I would drink until closing time, when I would then grab a few girls and we would take off to a “kow tom” shop where I continued my drinking. Eventually, I would stagger back to my room in a paralytic state, always alone, and fall into a drunken stupor.

When I returned to England I had to adjust my drinking behaviour or I would never have got anything done, but the evenings were still very drunken affairs, and every night I drank myself to sleep.

Once I had moved myself and my daughter in to our new place, it soon became apparent that the arrangement was not going to work. Our home was a tiny, semi-detached country cottage, with a small kitchen area facing onto a small lounge, and two bedrooms, one above the other. I took the first floor, and Samantha the upper room. It would have been Ok for two, but not for three – plus visitors who came and went at all hours of the day and night, and made varying amounts of noise, ranging from loud music to drunken brawls.

Samantha had been through a emotional and difficult time with her mother, and I felt that trying to impose any sort of discipline on her would be counterproductive. She was ‘finding herself’ and letting her hair down, after having had her natural instincts stifled for most of her life. She was seventeen years old – “Not a girl, but not yet a woman”, (with apologies to Britney Spears).

I hadn’t reckoned on her boyfriend moving in permanently. He was a nice enough, bright young man, who obviously cared for Samantha a great deal, but unfortunately, he was a lazy, dirty, untidy slob, and Samantha immediately aped his habits, no doubt to some extent as a reaction to her mother’s fanatical tidiness. So I had to put up with two teenagers, virtually running riot in a pretty cramped space. They drank, played loud music, ate fast food, or fried something up in the kitchenette, and left the leftover food, plates, pots, pans and dishes all over the place. Their friends would come by in the evenings and they would party night after night. I was forced into my room every night where I drank myself to sleep.

I was uncomfortable, unhappy, and every two –three days had to spend hours and hours trying to clean up, only to see the placed wrecked again within twenty four hours. Samantha was also clearly embarrassed by my presence, and I’m really not sure which of us wanted me to leave the most – her or me. We were still very close, but she needed to be with her friends and she didn’t want her crotchety old Dad around.

So we sat down and talked it through and agreed that I would move out and leave them to it. But where was I to go? The only thing that was keeping me in England was my daughter. I had very few friends, and in any case they were all married, and I would always be the odd one out. It didn’t take long for me to decide to return to Thailand, and see if I couldn’t forge a new life for myself out there. After all, I had known and loved the country for many years; I could get around quite well there, and even spoke a bit of the language. In this age of mobile phones and emails, I would always be in contact with my daughters, and if necessary I could jump on a plane and be back in the UK within twenty four hours.

After getting  approval  from my two daughters, and advising my divorce lawyer of my plans, I once again flew out to Bangkok in late August 2003 to see what fate might await me.

My divorce was also moving on apace. My wife had finally got the message that there was to be no reconciliation, but had declined to appoint a lawyer to represent her. She agreed that we should divorce, but of course she disputed the proposed settlement that I had offered her, which amounted to approximately 30% of the assets to go to her and 70% to me.

The arguments went backwards and forwards between her and me by email, and as I recall we eventually agreed to a split which was close to 45/55, and which also meant that my wife would retain sole ownership of the house. It turned out to be a very good deal for her, as this was a year or so before house prices took off and she ended up with an asset far higher in value than it’s valuation at the time of the divorce settlement.

So although I had had to hand over a substantial amount of my hard earned wealth and my wife ended up as quite a rich woman, I still had more than enough to see me through for the rest of my life, and I would still be able to live in relative luxury, especially if I decided to remain in Thailand, where the cost of living was so much cheaper.

I made another trip to England during that autumn to deal with a number of matters, including buying a small house, partly as an investment, and partly to provide a better accommodation for my daughter.

I also had an operation on my bladder while I was there, and although I was extremely weak after the operation and was supposed to rest up for a few weeks, I was immediately immersed in the task of moving my daughter from the rented accommodation into my new house, including moving furniture, personal effects and goodness knows what else. I had innumerable arrangements to make and things to do, such as: cleaning the rented accommodation from top to bottom to get my substantial deposit back; paying a mass of bills and getting the utilities all set up in the new house; buying furniture and household stuff , and so on. As time went on, I became weaker and in more and more pain.

My daughter was still shacked up with the same lazy slob, and their assistance with all these tasks was minimal, and I had to ask several times before they would even lift a finger to help. But we all know how selfish and unfeeling teenagers can be so I didn’t give it a lot of thought.

By the time I finally got everything sorted and managed to jump on a plane back to Thailand, I was exhausted and was really very ill. I had a bad fever and was still passing blood, as I hadn’t given my bladder a proper chance to heal. But things were to go from bad to rapidly worse, the minute I arrived back in Bangkok.

For what I haven’t yet related is that when I previously went to in Bangkok in August, I had embarked on a new, disastrous relationship, and yet again, I had trumped my own stupidity by doing something extremely foolish.

Today I have been sober for 118 days.

This the first time, since I was more or less a kid, that I have made it through Christmas day without taking a drink. It was a bit of a mental war of attrition, as my depression was telling me to go out and lay one on, and my alter ego, (well I am a Gemini), was telling me to stay sober and to take it one day at a time.

I wasn’t a great Christmas day. I managed to make the 9 a.m, AA meeting, the first one in several days, which was extremely crowded. There must have been well over 30 people in a room that usually holds about 20 or so comfortably. I had barely squeezed into a seat when I received the sms from the lady who had decided she had a better offer for Christmas day. At that point, the prospect of a pleasant evening with a charming lady was the only thing that was keeping me going, and my depression immediately took a turn for the worst.

After the meeting, many of the guys went down the road for a Christmas brunch and exhorted me to join them, but I declined. I just wasn’t feeling very sociable, and made my way back home.

Once home my depression continued apace, but I pulled myself together and sent a short email to all my family back in the U.k. and South Africa, thanking them for their Christmas cards, and apologising for not reciprocating. I am such a lazy, unfeeling sod.

A little while later, my eldest daughter, Nattaya, called me. I didn’t want to talk, but I hadn’t spoken to her for over a year, and there was no way to refuse the call, so I took it. She was very nice and friendly and we chatted for a few minutes. She told me what she and her husband and her sister had been up to, and wished me a happy Christmas. It was nice talking to her. Her world and family seemed a million miles away from my sad existence on the other side of the world, and it made me realise how much I missed her and Samantha.

When I finished the call my eyes brimmed and I shed a few tears. For a few moments, it seemed that the easiest solution to my extreme depression would be to inject myself with a massive dose of insulin. All my problems would then be over. But I then I thought of something that a guy had ‘shared’ at the morning meeting. He was recounting how, when feeling severely suicidal, he had almost thrown himself in front of an underground train at a station in London. But then he thought of the distress and trouble he would cause to the train driver and stepped back from the brink.

I decided that the same thing would apply to my family – especially to my daughters if something happened to me. So I tried to pull myself togther and spent the rest of the day at home. My Christmas lunch consisted of stale bread, mouldy cheese and some sliced ham that was curling up at the corners. I couldn’t be bothered to go shopping, and messed around on my computer and then watched a movie, and fell asleep for a while, half way through.

In the evening, I went out and stopped by a number of places in an attempt to find some Christmas cheer. But it didn’t work and after a few hours of wandering aimlessly around in Pattaya and Jomtien, I gave up and drove back home and messed around with my computer for most of the night, finally dropping off to sleep around 4.30 this morning.

But I am still sober, and still alive.

MOBI’S STORY – (PART 26)

THE RETIREMENT YEARS (CONTINUED)

I didn’t hear from my wife for a while after I sent that fax. I was busy sorting out my affairs: meeting with my divorce lawyer, taking care of all my personal business, and in particular, locating and renting a small house for myself and my daughter to live in.

At some point, I cannot recall exactly when, I learned from my ex-neighbours, Joe and Doris, that my wife had returned to England. I still had not made any further contact with her, and a short while after she returned, my solicitor sent her the divorce papers.

During the next month or so, my neighbours kept me regularly updated on my wife’s movements, and I was able to keep abreast of her thinking on my action and on the divorce settlement. She had told my neighbours that all the grounds that the solicitor had put in the divorce papers were all lies and completely untrue, and that I had been very cruel to her. She was very distressed and cried a lot, and sought their emotional support.

So whose side were my neighbours on? Well it transpired that Doris felt a lot of sympathy for what had happened to Noi, and was inclined to believe some of what she had to say, but Joe was a wily old bastard and he wasn’t taken in by the crying and lying. He had long since sussed her out, (one of the very few in England to do so), and saw right through her obfuscation and fake drama. But they were, (and are), lovely, kind and generous folk, and they tried to avoid taking sides, and helped us both, as far they were able, in equal measure.

I eventually did meet with Noi a few times, and we started to speak to each other in a relatively civilised manner. Noi had made up her mind that she was going to try and ‘woo’ me back, and she made a number of overtures to try and get me back into the marital abode. She had been distressed by all the accusations that I had made about her in the divorce papers,(which were all supported by accounts of actual events), but as ever, she tried to twist what I had said, and take them out of context.

When I met with her, It was apparent that she had decided that my main gripe was the fact that she was too “house proud”. She started to play a bizarre game whereby she implored me to come to the house and see for myself that it was dirty and untidy, and that she didn’t care anymore about keeping it clean and beautiful. She couldn’t, or wouldn’t understand that her fanatical desire to maintain a perfect house was merely a symptom of a much bigger problem, and in reality,she was a spiteful, selfish, self seeking, obsessive, control-freak of the worst kind.

Rightly or wrongly, I played along with this strange, friendly game of hers because it meant that I wasn’t fighting her and that I could slowly push things along and get everything sorted, particularly with regard to Samantha, without having to argue with her at every turn.

In the end, a couple of incidents scared me away. The first was when I visited her one day and she had cooked me a nice lunch, and tried to persuade me to stay come back until everything was settled. I told her I would think about it, but a few days later she invited me to meet her local pub for an evening meal. It was one of the very few occasions when Noi had too much to drink. She didn’t drink much, but it was enough to make her very tipsy, and once the alcohol had taken hold, she suddenly became very romantic. She kept trying to cuddle up to me and kiss me over dinner, and as soon as we finished the meal, I quickly paid the bill and tried to make an escape to my car. But she followed me, grabbed me and wouldn’t let go. She started begging me to come back, and told me that she was sorry for everything and that she loved me and couldn’t live without me, and she would change.

I was embarrassed, and frankly a little disgusted. I had no feelings for Noi anymore and I had suffered too much for too long to turn the clock back at this late juncture. I just wanted to get away, and realised my stupid mistake in playing along with her friendly attitude, as I knew deep sown she was up to something which could only lead to more grief.

I finally managed to disentangle myself from her clutches, get into my car, lock the door and drive away. She was still trying to cling onto the car as I drove off, and I almost felt sorry for her. She looked so pathetic – I had never seen her like that before.

After that incident, I kept my distance, and was very careful in my dealings with her. I found a suitable house, and took it on a six month lease, and then spent most of my time getting myself and Samantha moved in.

It was during this time that my drinking, which for years had been excessive, took a decided turn for the worst. I was alone in England after being with Noi for some twenty six years; I had a difficult and expensive divorce to negotiate with an unstable wife, and I had a teenage daughter to take care of. I simply drunk myself to sleep every night, and as the days went on, I required more and more alcohol in my body to achieve the desired effect.

I was resigned to starting a new life for myself in the rural shire of East Northamptonshire, and was certainly committed to staying with my daughter for at least a year, until she completed her schooling and went on to University.

Yet within a few weeks, I was back in Thailand – more or less for good. So what happened?

Today I have been sober for 117 days.

For me, Christmas is just a mass of bad memories. I always dread Christmas, as invariably I get very depressed, and I’m sorry to say that this year seems to be no exception.

Ever since I can remember, so many Christmases have been a time for unhappiness for me; full of traumatic and emotionally charged events.

When I was a kid my father always chose Christmas Day as a special occasion to throw the most violent temper tantrums and make my family’s Christmas as miserable as possible. Then in my teenage years, when I was so shy and introverted and lacking in self esteem my Christmases, were very lonely occasions.

Later, my various marriages always seemed to bring out the worst my wives, and I have recently written about my fourth wife’s behaviour over a number of  Christmases – not so very different to my father’s behaviour, all those years ago.

And so on to my current wife, who has always had a knack of making my Christmases as miserable as possible. She would invariably get drunk and disappear, sometimes not returning for days, and almost certainly shacking up with someone either Pattaya or Bangkok. She even did this on one recent occasion when my family was staying with me. It was a terrible time for me, having to put on a ‘brave face’ and trying to hide my wife’s bad behavior from my family, while all the time aching with hurt and anger.

So true to tradition, I am now in the midst of a bad depression, and I am at home, alone, with no plans to do anything much except to try and see out the day in one piece, and not to take a drink. If I succeed, this Christmas will at least be notable for one milestone in my life, the first sober Christmas since I was quite a young child.

Yesterday morning, my wife phoned me repeatedly. Eventually, against my better judgment, for the first time since I left home, I answered her call and spoke to her. I wish that I hadn’t. She complained that my intermediary had not reimbursed her yet for some house bills she had paid, and she needed the money desperately as she was going away the next day (today). I told her I would call the intermediary and see what could be done, but told her that she had her own life and her family was visiting from England and therefore she may not be free. My wife berated me for not doing enough to get the money to her, and she wouldn’t stop complaining. She was being her usual pain in the ass – as selfish and self-obsessed as ever.  I told her that I can’t concern myself with her holiday plans and her need for money – that is nothing to do with me, and she should stick to what has been agreed. She wouldn’t stop, so I eventually lost my temper with her and slammed down the phone. It seems that nothing much has changed, and the conversation left me in a very bad and increasingly depressed mood.

One thing is for sure – I will not talk to her again.

As is my want, I tried to cheer myself up and went out in the early evening for something to eat and to see a lovely lady who I have known for a number of years and in an ‘on and off’ sort of manner. I asked her to come out with me and have a meal, but she declined as she had already made alternative arrangements, but promised me that she was free on Christmas day, and we made arrangements to meet up in the late afternoon and have a nice Christmas lunch together.

Then this morning I received an sms from her, effectively ‘blowing me out’. I guess you can say that was the ‘icing on my Christmas cake’ of misery.

So here I am, writing my blog, when millions, all over the world are happy and joyous.

Yes, you’ve guessed it, as a true alcoholic, I am revelling in my own misery, and even as I write, I am starting to cheer up.

Who knows what the rest of the day will bring, but in the meantime, may I wish all my dear readers a very merry Christmas, and don’t be miserable like me – enjoy yourself, even if it hurts!!

Today I have been sober for 115 days.

MOBI’S STORY – (PART 25)

THE RETIREMENT YEARS (CONTINUED)

What was I to do indeed?

I continued my research into why I had been charged for a Phuket hotel when I hadn’t been outside of Bangkok, and eventually established that I had booked and paid for my Bangkok Hotel through a company that was based in Phuket. Hence the misleading reference to Phuket on my credit card bill, that had miraculously managed to be whisked at the speed of light across the world and delivered to my lovely wife’s front door by snail mail, only a few days after I had incurred the charge in Bangkok.

So armed with this information, I sent Noi an email, and also followed up with a phone call, explaining that she had been mistaken. It goes without saying that she gave me a ‘hard time’ and wasn’t totally convinced that I was telling the truth, but after a lot of hassle, she said she would ‘re-think’ her decision not to come, and would let me know.

After that I ceased to worry that she wouldn’t come, as after all these years I could read her like a book, and her “re-think”, actually meant that she was coming after all, but that she wanted to keep me guessing and in a state of confusion and anxiety for as long as possible. Anything to spoil my holiday!

So there was little left for me to do except book my flight back to the UK and arrange to leave a note for her at Bangkok airport. I was supposed to go with my father-in-law to meet her in the “communal car”, but I called him and told him not to come, as I had booked a taxi for me to go and to pick her up by myself, and we would then drive directly to our home in Bang Saen. I then went to Thai airways at Don Muang and gave them a note to be collected by my wife when she arrived in Bangkok. It was a very brief note which simply said that ‘something had come up” and that I couldn’t make it to the airport, and that she should call her father to come and collect her, and I would see her in Bang Saen in a few day’s time.

At the very time that Noi was in a Thai Airways jumbo jet, 30,000 feet above the skies of Asia, winging her way to Bangkok, I was in a Singapore Airlines Jumbo jet, winging my way back to Heathrow.

The idea of the deliberately misleading note, was to provide me with the maximum time back in England to sort my affairs and move my stuff out, before Noi cottoned on to the fact that I was back in England, and decided to fly back home and confront me.

My elderly neighbours, who I have previous referred to, met me at Peterborough rail station, and drove me back home, where I was able to recover my second vehicle, the first one having been parked at Heathrow by my wife.

For the next few days I was very busy. I wanted to pack up and be gone before my wife realised she had been duped and flew back. I forget how long I stayed at the house, but I doubt it was more than three or four days. There was quite a lot of personal stuff I wanted to take with me, and I packed it all into boxes and bags and delivered it to a kind friend who lived a few miles away, and to my next door neighbours who had also agreed to store some stuff for me.

For the time being, I was maintaining a total silence with my wife in Thailand. One day, just before I had finished all my packing, I received a call from a friend in Bangkok to inform me that my wife had been calling all my friends to try and find out what had happened to me. He told me that she was concerned that I might have had an accident or be seriously sick in hospital, and she wanted to know if he had any idea of my whereabouts. I had told two friends what I was up to – the one who was calling me, and the other one was Dave. I repeated to him my previous instructions that he should tell her that he had no idea of where I was and that he hadn’t seen me in months. He agreed to do this, and that was that.

In due course I managed the move without a hitch, and stored all my stuff in the two locations. I booked myself into a large bed and breakfast room at a nearby pub and then went to break the news to my daughters about what I had been up to.

My eldest daughter, Nattaya, lived near Birmingham, and I drove over there one morning and met with her and her long term boyfriend, and told them I had left my wife. Natty told me that she completely understood my action and that she totally supported my decision. She told me that sadly, her mother had ‘never been there for her’, had always found fault with her and basically had made her childhood a total misery with her bossy and controlling attitude. She had never told me this before, and I was quite taken aback by the depth of bad feeling she had for her mother. Maybe I should have realised this before, but the stark fact was that I had no idea she felt so bad about her. She told me that she hoped that I would find some happiness in my new life as she knew I had been  miserable for such a long time.

My other daughter, Samantha, was still staying with her boy friend – it was the school summer holidays, and I met her and her boyfriend at the pub where I was staying. When I told her what I had done, she said that she used to lie in bed, listening to her mother screaming at me, and pray with all her might that one day I would leave her.

Again, in spite of all Noi’s bad behaviour, I was still shocked by the depth of my daughter’s feelings. All these years I had convinced myself that I had to stay with Noi for the sake of the kids, and now both kids were telling me that I should have left her years ago. They had both found their own way to deal with their mother, but they knew that I could not, and it made them so sad to see me treated so badly for so long.

If only I had known.

I asked Samantha if she wanted to go back and live with her mother, and she told me that she would not go back home, under any circumstances. So I decided to rent a small house in the town where her school was located, and told her she could live with me, which she was happy to agree to.

Soon after this I received yet another call from my friend in Bangkok who told me that my wife was “badgering the heck” out of him and Dave. She was calling both of them several times a day, demanding to know where I was, as she was convinced that they knew something. He said he was getting tired of all these calls and that he wanted to tell her something. I decided that I had had enough time back in England to successfully accomplish all that I had intended to do, so I told him that I would now make contact with her and she wouldn’t need to call him anymore.

Fortunately I had set up a fax in the house in Bang Saen (there was no internet connection there), so I sent Noi a fax, which read as follows:

Noi,

I’m very sorry to tell you that I’ve left you, and you will be hearing from my lawyers about a divorce. I am truly sorry that I have had to take this step, but for me there is no other way. I believe your behaviour to me and Samantha is completely unreasonable, and has caused an irretrievable breakdown to our marriage. I cannot talk to you – it will only make everything worse.

I have been very unhappy for a very long time, but I stayed with the marriage because of the children. Now Samantha is almost grown up, I don’t have to worry about her any more, and I need to try and make a new life for myself before time runs out. You know that I am not happy, and you must know that you cannot make me happy. My whole approach to life is so different to your approach, and I think you have spent the last 26 years trying to change me – but you never can – I’m still the same as I ever was, deep down. I honestly do not believe you are happy either – we are not compatible – we never have been – and I’m sure it has been frustrating and difficult for you as well. Of course, life for me has got a lot worse since I retired, starting with the nightmare holiday in America – you will never understand how unhappy you made me on that trip with your bad moods and everything. Since then things have just got steadily worse. I have tried and tried and tried, but there is no way out. I cannot stay with you another day. I think you can understand what I am saying, and believe me, this has been the hardest decision of my life, and at the moment, I am desperately unhappy, and even crying as I write this. I never wanted our family to end like this – but my mind is made up and I will never change it, so please don’t try to – it will not work.

Whatever happens, you will end up with a lot of money – I don’t want to cheat you out of anything that you’re entitled to. You must try to make a new life for yourself – you are still young and attractive – you can have anything you want – just go and grab it. I think you have made a big mistake all these years, not doing something with your life outside the home. You are so clever and smart – why don’t you do some business? You know you can be successful and you’ll enjoy it. Don’t waste your life doing nothing.

You have made such a huge mistake with Samantha. She is a wonderful girl with such a great personality – but you tried to smother her and control her. Oh how foolish it was to try and ban her boyfriend. She is just a normal teenager – you’ve been in England so long yet sometimes you don’t seem to understand anything. You can’t control her – and I’m afraid you’ve controlled me for far too long. But moral and emotional blackmail can’t work forever.

I am moving out of the house and will leave it for you to live here. Don’t worry – everything will be as you left it. I’m not taking much – just my personal things and a few bits and pieces I need to get by. So when you come back to England you can stay at the house until the divorce and the money is all settled. You will be receiving the divorce papers, and you will be advised to get your own lawyer – but it’s up to you. If we don’t have too many arguments, it can all be settled quickly, probably by Christmas, and you don’t have to have a lawyer if you don’t want one. As I say, it’s up to you.

I know this will sound terrible, but I don’t want to see you or talk to you or receive any letter from you until the divorce and the money is all settled. I will turn off the fax, and if you send me any emails, I will delete them without reading them. I will also change my mobile number. If you want to communicate with me, you must do it through my lawyer. Once everything is settled, I hope we can then try to remain friends for the sake of our daughters, and also for the family in Thailand. But for now we must stay completely away from each other. If the divorce goes through quickly, there is no reason why Nattaya’s wedding can’t still go ahead as planned. But that’s really up to you, and Natty of course.

I have discussed my plans with Samantha, and she has made it clear that she wants to come and live with me when I get settled in a new home. She does not want to live with you. In the meantime, during the summer holidays, she will stay with her boyfriend. and she will NOT be coming to Thailand. Of course she will want to keep a mother / daughter relationship with you – she just doesn’t want to stay with you, any more

I have told Nattaya, and have been to see her.

I will keep the Volvo, and you can have the Land Rover – but if you want to swap it’s ok with me. I will be cancelling your American Express card but will leave the Visa card open until you have had a chance to get new cards in your own name. Also, I will make sure there is enough money in the joint bank account to pay the bills and some left over for you to live on until you have a chance to transfer some money from your internet accounts, and open your own bank account. I will be in touch through my lawyer to advise you of all the passwords and everything you need to manage your money.

In many ways you have been a good mother and wife, and I thank you for that. But keeping a nice home and cooking good food doesn’t make a good marriage – and I know that our marriage hasn’t been very good.

Well I think I’ve said enough. When you get back you will get all the information from my lawyer.

This is the last communication you will receive directly from me until the divorce is finished. Please do not try to track me down – even if you do I will refuse to talk or listen to what you have to say.

I wish you luck and happiness in your new life.

Mobi

Today I have been sober for 114 days.

As I advised in my last blog, Thai Visa have requested that I move my blog to another host.

So I have now moved to WordPress, and I have recently registered a new domain name:

mobithailand.com.

My understanding is that Thai Visa will continue to host my blog for another week or so, and after they close down, I believe that anyone clicking on my old website (mobi.thailand.nu) will automatically be redirected to the new site.

As Thai Visa were using WordPress software on their blog sites, there will be minimal change in the layout, although WordPress do have literally thousands of ‘layout’  choices, and when I have more time, I may find something a little more exciting  in due course.

Now what’s been going on?  Well nothing very exciting. As previously reported, my girlfriend moved out last Friday, and since then I have been alone and trying to get used to the idea of ‘living with myself’. This is not easy as I have had a ‘live in’ female companion for nearly all of my adult life, and I suppose this helps to explain why I rushed  precipitously and disastrously into another relationship so soon after I had left my wife.

Since Friday, I have been home most of the time, sorting out and changing things around in the condo, and doing I know not what. I didn’t even make any AA meetings for 3 days in a row. I have not been sleeping at all well, rarely dropping off before 4 a.m, and when my alarm went off at 7.30 I just couldn’t move as I felt so ill. I assumed this was due to lack of sleep , but couldn’t really understand it as in the past I have had little problem dealing with sleepless nights. Then yesterday, once more I felt terrible, and suddenly realised that it wasn’t lack of sleep that was making me feel so bad but a ‘hypo’. It was a Hypoglycemic attack – I was suffering from very low blood sugar.

Getting a ‘Hypo’ is one of  diabetic’s greatest fears as it can put you into a coma which, if not treated immediately can lead to brain damage and also death. Hypos are caused by an excess of insulin in the blood, which occurs when a diabetic takes too much medication. This may happen when, unknown to himself,  a diabetic already has slightly low blood sugar levels  before taking a regular, scheduled dose of insulin. This must have been so in my case, as I inject insulin before each meal, and another ‘long acting’ dose before sleeping. The symptoms for a hypo occurring , are varied, and can change over time, so I mistakenly thought that my lack of sleep was the cause  of my problems, when in fact it was my low blood sugar. When I tested my blood yesterday morning, I found that my blood sugars were indeed dangerously low and could have easily put me into a coma. I immediately took remedial action by swallowing a number of high sugar liquids and food to get my sugar levels back up again.

As I get older, I find that the after effects of ‘hypos’ leave me feeling very weak and mentally listless, and it takes me a few hours before I am back to normal again.

Today, I finally made a meeting, despite yet again having only around 4 hours sleep, but this time, I was careful about my insulin dosage, after carefully checking my sugar levels. But today I have been feeling very depressed – it seems to happen when I am alone. During the meeting this morning, I became very maudlin and almost cried when my mind started to wander and I thought about the mess I have made of my life, and how so many people have taken advantage of me and  have hurt me.

Then with Christmas only a few days away, I thought back over some of the terrible Christmases I have had through the years: from the days when I was a kid and my father would always blow up and make the whole family’s Christmas so desperately miserable, to the years with various wives who walked all over me and always seemed to choose Christmas to make my life even more unbearable than ever. Someone in the meeting this morning was talking about us getting together for a Christmas ‘brunch’ on Christmas morning, (after the meeting), but quite frankly the idea horrifies me. I am receding into my shell, and right now I have no desire to get together with a bunch of sober drunks and try to be merry and jovial make happy small talk.

I have to say I started to feel quite suicidal, but I think the moment passed. I don’t know. Sometimes I just wonder whether it is all worth the never ending effort, as whatever I try to do, it never seems to work out for me. Life is sometimes such a struggle, and maybe it is better just to give up.

I will try to fight it and soldier on.

MOBI’S STORY – (PART 24)

THE RETIREMENT YEARS (CONTINUED)

There was an uneasy peace between my wife and Samantha and me.  Samantha was still staying with her boyfriend, but she would come by regularly to have a meal with us and collect some things. My wife would always try to lecture her on these occasions, but Samantha had adopted a ‘hard’ side to her and she wouldn’t take any more ‘shit’ from her mother, and gave as good as she got. It was quite revelation for me, as up to this point she had always been such a mild and compliant person as far as her mother was concerned.

I too was changing. I was no longer in fear and dread of Noi, and like Samantha, I started to assert myself and talk back to her when she came on too strong. But for the most part, I still kept my own counsel, for I didn’t wish to stir things up too much in advance of my ‘big plan’.

I recall that my drinking during this period was getting progressively heavier. I had slipped into the habit of going into the conservatory in the afternoon and writing my book for a few hours, before turning on stereo very loud and start my nightly, solo drinking session. I would usually drink at least 2 bottles of wine, several beers and maybe a few large slugs of scotch and by around midnight I was pretty stoned, and had little trouble sleeping. In the meantime my wife would watch television alone in the lounge, and then retire to bed a couple of hours before I joined her, at which time she was invariably fast asleep. I don’t believe we had enjoyed any ‘relations’ for quite a long time and certainly not at all since we permanently moved to our new home.

As I slipped into this new routine, once again I became lulled into a false sense of ‘well being’ and started to wonder for the umpteenth time during the past twenty five odd years whether I hadn’t over reacted to my wife’s behaviour and should  give the marriage another go.

But this dream was dashed one evening when Noi had a terrible row with Samantha, who took off in a flood of tears, and then Noi continued to ‘rubbish’ and blame my daughter for so many things, long after Samantha had departed. Noi even went so far as to blame all of us, but particularly Samantha, for making her (Noi) so unhappy and that we were all so heartless, and selfish. What she said that night was truly terrible, and I cannot even begin to repeat exactly what she said, even in this blog, but I will never forget it as long as I live.

It was the final straw.

I have no recollection exactly how I managed to swing it, but somehow or other I had managed to persuade my wife to let me go to Thailand ten days ahead of her for our summer holidays. In retrospect, it is remarkable that she actually agreed to it, but being the typical control freak that she was, she probably thought that she could continue to control me, even from the other side of the world. Actually, I think it was some obligations that my wife had back in England that prevented her from leaving earlier, but whatever the reason, it was my big opportunity to put my plan into action.

It must be difficult for people who have not been under the ‘control’ of a man or woman, to understand the sheer terror of those who are dominated. During my marriage, my wife had  fought and intimidated neighbours twice her size, had chased her own mother from our home in fear and dread, and committed other unspeakable acts. But it was the threats of what she might do which were the worst of all. She used to tell me that if I ever stepped out of line she would go down to my office in the city and make so much trouble that she would totally embarrass me in front of all my staff, and do her best to ensure I lost my job. I honestly believe to this day that she would have done it, should the ‘justification’ have arisen. There were all manner of other threats as well as her daily mental bullying, which conspired to keep us permanently under her thumb.

So if I was to leave her, and if I was to be able to take most of my personal possessions with me, it had to be planned with military precision – and it was.

So I went to Thailand as planned. Noi drove me to Heathrow, and dropped me off. I was terrified that she would smell a rat at the last moment and stop me from going, or decide to come with me after all. She did realise that something was not quite right and challenged me on it when we were at the airport. She seemed to sense that I was not my normal self, but couldn’t really put her finger on it.  Anyway, probably against her better judgement, she let me go and that was that.

I flew to Thailand, was met by my father- in -law who drove me to our house in Bang Saen. I stayed a couple of nights before announcing that I was going off to Bangkok for a few days. I went to Bangkok and used my friend’s computer to get ‘on-line’ with my banks and start moving all my money and investments out of the joint accounts and the accounts in her name only into accounts in my name only.  The amounts involved were pretty large and I was extremely nervous that something may go wrong and the banks may call my home, and ask my wife to verify the transfers. Anyway this was in the days before 9/11, and the banks weren’t as ‘touchy’ as they would have been today.

I had no intention of cheating my wife; the investments were only in her name for tax purposes, but I wanted to negotiate a settlement with her from a position of strength – i.e. with me controlling the money, not her.

After I had arranged all this without a hitch, I briefly went back to bang Saen and made up a story to my in-laws to the effect that I had to return to Bangkok for medical appointments. While I was there, I took the opportunity to pack some personal things that I had stored there, and returned to Bangkok.

Then, about a week later, I received a nasty shock. My wife sent me an email. She said that she had just received a credit card bill which showed a charge for a hotel in Phuket. She was absolutely furious and accused me of going to Phuket without her permission, and that I was obviously up to something no good. She said that she was extremely upset, and as a result she had decided to cancel her flight to Thailand, and would ‘have it all out with me’ when I returned home.

I was devastated. I didn’t understand the hotel charge from Phuket. I had told her I would be going to Bangkok for few days to catch up with some friends, but if the credit card bill was showing a hotel in Phuket, how could I convince her that it was a mistake?  She would never believe me – she obviously thought I was down in Phuket with some lady.

Now that she had decided not to come to Thailand, all my plans were laid to waste and I would never have another opportunity to get away from her, because surely after this, she would never let me out of her sight again.

What on earth was I to do?

Today I have been sober for 111 days.

Sorry, but I have been a bit preoccupied.

So what has been happening? Well the big news is that I am now alone once again, and I can’t tell you how good it feels. I finally saw her off with all her goods and chattels at around 4.30 yesterday afternoon, and it all went off with virtually no recriminations, but it goes without saying that a small Bag of Baht helped to soften the blow.

I have been pottering around in my condo, all night and all day, just sorting things out, and simply reveling in getting my place back again. I hardly slept all night, which must demonstrate the kind of the mental state I have been in of late. Anyway, thank God she’s gone. What a ridiculous and expensive mistake. Let’s hope that she was the very last one – but don’t hold your breath!

I have also been obsessed with finding a decent body shop to fix all the bumps and scratches on my car which were inflicted during my drunken days. I have been driving around Pattaya for several days, following “leads” that various folk have given me, and every have day drawn a complete blank. Then on Thursday, after another couple of hours of searching, I completely lost my concentration and in quick succession: knocked over a parked motorcycle and barely a few minutes later, having dealt with that little fracas, I had an ‘argument’ with a cement truck who refused to get out of the way when I tried to drive down the inside lane.

So from not having added a single nick to my car since I stopped drinking, I had now added considerably to my “scratch index” by badly crunching no less than 3 out of four doors.

The only ray of light on the car horizon is that yesterday, I finally found a guy off Sukhumvit, near Pattaya Klang, who seems to know what he is doing, so I will take the car in on Monday and hope for the best.

And then to cap it all, I received an email from Thai Visa yesterday advising me that they are going to discontinue hosting their blog portal, and that I had better find another host. This didn’t come as a big surprise, as my blog is the only active blog on their portal, but their decision could have been timed a little better.

I have been contacting alternative hosts, with a view to getting my blog moved, along with all the blog history. So I’ll keep you informed how this progresses.

I have not been to a meeting in two days, so I must go tomorrow.

MOBI’S STORY – (PART 23)

THE RETIREMENT YEARS (CONTINUED)

The note written on 4^th October, 2002 on “my problem” that I reproduced in my Blog on 13^th December, is the last account I can find of all the stuff I wrote during that period. I have no idea what has happened to the rest of my notes – they must have been deleted in error. I know I continued to write on a more or less regular basis, and certainly I wrote quite a lot of very traumatic stuff that happened during the period immediately leading up to my departure from the marital abode in 2003. I know I am not dreaming, for many of these notes became the basis for my divorce petition, and copies were handed over to my lawyer.

In retrospect, it may be just as well that my records have gone missing at this time, as there were some events that took place during that time that I am not prepared to put on this blog, so my notes would have had to be edited, and that may have proved quite difficult.

The climax came in the Spring of 2003.

My wife and I went to Thailand yet again on 1^st April for another holiday at our house in Bang Saen. We left our daughter back in England, as she was studying for her forthcoming school exams. She was just completing her first year at her new school, and the examinations were very important to determine her predicted grades for her forthcoming “A” levels in a year’s time.

I have little recollection of the three week holiday, but I remember well the drive home and the welcome Samantha received from my wife when we eventually got there. We had parked our car in one of the Heathrow Hotel car parks during our time away, and once we arrived at the hotel to collect the car, my wife had developed  the most foul mood imaginable. I have no idea what had got into her – except maybe jet lag lack of sleep. She found fault with everything I did, from retrieving the car from the parking area and just about anything else that she could think of.

By the time we finally got under way along the M25, she had been fighting and snarling at me non –stop for over an hour, and I’d had enough and shouted back at her. That seemed to finally stop her noise, and I drove the entire journey in stony silence. She just sat there and fumed – no doubt planning some kind of revenge.

When we arrived home, Samantha was there to greet us with a lovely welcoming smile on her face. We went indoors, and I could see immediately that Samantha had made a sterling effort to tidy up the house and make everything spick and span. But we had barely put down our suitcases when my wife went for her. She shouted and screamed that she was a dirty, lazy and irresponsible person, and how dare she leave the house in such a state? She then went around the house with a fine toothcomb, finding ridiculously petty things to complain about. Samantha was none too impressed and fled to her room, and I lost my temper once again and told my wife what I thought of her intolerable behaviour. We had a huge row, and she said some very hurtful things and stormed off to bed.

I knew then, that just like the other day when I wrote in this blog about my latest girlfriend, it was no longer a question of “if” but “when”.

During the next day or so there was an uneasy peace, but it all soon flared up again when my wife discovered that during our absence Samantha had allowed her boyfriend to come into our house. My wife went ballistic (Samantha was 17 years old at this time), and immediately banned Samantha from ever seeing him again. As far as Samantha was concerned, this was the final straw, and she left that evening and went to stay with her boy friend at his parents’ home. I kept in contact with Samantha by telephone, and the next day went to meet with her. I told her that she had my total support, and that she shouldn’t worry about anything.

At long last I had started to stand up to my wife, and I told her that her daughter had moved out and that I would support her. My wife was not at all happy but ever the practical one, within a short time she seemed to accept the situation. This meant that she would still try to keep in touch with her daughter and send her things to her new home, and even invite her around now and again for a meal. She had previously adopted a similar attitude with my eldest daughter who also left home at a similar age, and I guess she assumed that she would achieve the same result – an eventual permanent return to the family home. My little Noi was never happy if she didn’t have total control over her family.

But my mind was set, and at the first opportunity – I believe my wife went away for a few days – I went to see a divorce lawyer at one of the top law firms in Peterborough. I gave the Lawyer a brief background to my problems, and then gave her all my “problem” notes to read, which she did, then and there. After she had finished reading, she told me that Noi’s intolerable conduct over many years gave me extremely strong grounds for divorce, citing unacceptable behaviour and mental cruelty.

The lawyer gave me an idea of the potential costs involved, and requested a substantial deposit. Once I had paid over that money, as  far as I was concerned, the die was set, and there would be no turning back.

But I had much to plan and much to do, if I was to get out of this marriage with anything except the shirt on my back.

I started some serious planning – in between some increasingly serious drinking.

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Today I have been sober for 108 days.

I didn’t take a drink and I have finally broken the news to my girlfriend that I want her to go.

She seems to have taken it quite well, but the details of her departure have yet to be worked out. I will give it a couple of days, and if nothing much is happening, I’ll give it another push….

At least it’s out in the open, and I  feel quite a bit better about it all.

I was out last night until very late, and will probably be out late again tonight. I don’t like to stay at home much while she is still here.

But I will try to get back to some serious blogging tomorrow.