Marriage, Parenthood, & Infidelity

TJ and I had been dating for about 4½ years when my friend JC (see Chapter 7) in Oakland announced he was getting married and wanted me to be his best man and to please bring TJ along.

TJ and I packed our bags into my p.o.s. Dodge Colt and headed south for California. Despite the long drive from Seattle to the Bay Area in what seemed non-stop rain all the way down, the clouds parted once we got to Oakland and the weather seemed warm and mild to us. JC put TJ and me up in a spare bedroom and after we got settled he asked when I was going to make an 'honest woman' out of TJ. This would not be the last time I heard this particular mantra over the next few days. JC's sisters asked me, his brothers asked me, his mother asked me, relatives asked me I'd never met before, and a dozen or so of his California friends. Everyone, it seemed, agreed by group consensus that dating for 4½ years was 'long enough' and that it was high time that TJ and I 'tied the knot'. I evaded the question as best I could, but I suddenly noticed the same question burning behind TJ's lovely green eyes.

After TJ and I returned to Seattle from Oakland, I did not bring up the subject again hoping it would just go away. TJ didn't broach the subject either until a year later when she took matters into her own hands and grabbed the bull by the horns.

When TJ and I had been dating 5½ years she showed up at my apartment with a wedding license from King County. She explained to me that the wedding license would expire in 180 days if it wasn't signed and notarized and returned to the Register's Office. What this meant, she continued to explain, was that I had 180 days to (1) either marry her or (2) never see her again. I couldn't believe it! TJ had given me an ultimatum and I wasn't quite sure what to do, so playing it nonchalant I took the license and slipped it into my desk drawer and didn't say any more about it.

When 90 days had passed I could see that TJ was starting to get a little anxious. When 120 had passed she began getting upset. When 160 had passed she was fuming. Finally, on day 179 I took TJ down to the King Country Courthouse to be married by a judge, and brought my brother, Brant, along as a witness. We mistakenly went to the old Federal Courthouse first and almost missed our appointment, then once we found the right courthouse we were told we needed two witnesses. Thankfully the Judge graciously allowed a bailiff to stand in as the second witness. We only got one or two raised eyebrows when TJ and I didn't have rings to exchange then went our separate ways immediately after the proceedings (TJ back to school, me back to work).

After we were married we were told by everyone that they were hoping we might have had a real ceremony. Why not? We decided to rent a hall, cater it ourselves, and conduct a 'typical' ceremony in order to appease our families and friends. And so 2 ½ months after our 'legal' wedding TJ and I had a 'ceremonial' wedding with gowns and tuxedos and maids of honor and best men and rings and food and drink and dancing. It was a blowout and after TJ and I left for our 'honeymoon' to Mazatlán, the reception apparently (or so we were told) lasted long into the night.

Shortly after returning from my honeymoon I was offered a server position at The Lakeside Restaurant on Lake Union in Seattle. At the time The Lakeside was a top-shelf restaurant (it currently specializes in hosting events and catering cruises) with a spectacular view of Lake Union and the Seattle skyline. What made this particularly nice was that TJ and I were renting a small house only a mile up the hill from The Lakeside (in Wallingford), which meant I no longer had to commute to Lynnwood (14 miles away). This meant I could be at work in about five minutes!

The change from working in Lynnwood to working in Seattle was a kind of culture shock. While Lynnwood catered to a 'suburban' clientele, the patrons of The Lakeside were distinctly urban, urbane, discriminating, and considerably more generous with their tip money. By changing scenery I practically doubled my income.

Another unexpected side effect of working in Seattle was the availability of drugs, because it seemed that everybody was using: marijuana, cocaine, amphetamines, and LSD could be had at a moment's notice, with cocaine being the drug of choice. Although I had started working at The Lakeside relatively innocent as far as drugs were concerned, within a year's time I was drinking far more than I ever had before and using prodigious amounts of anything I could get my hands on (with heroin the exception). Of course this was the early '80s and drug use was deemed socially expected from anyone who didn't consider him or herself a Reagan Republican, at least in the circles I was running in.

Because I had started 'using' I wanted to spend my time around people who were also 'using' and this meant with several of my co-workers from the restaurant. We would get off work and party until the wee hours of the morning, then crawl home to sleep until noon, sometimes later. By this time TJ had graduated from the UW with her degree in Textile Design and had started working as a switchboard operator for Blue Cross of Washington and Alaska. Within a short time, TJ was given a promotion to become a Benefit Analyst thus putting behind forever her days on the switchboard. Over the years she would receive numerous other promotions and pay raises to eventually find herself an IT Project Manager, whereas I was content to simply tread water and go nowhere fast in the restaurant industry. This would finally change, of course, but that comes a bit later in the story.

Although my lifestyle had dramatically changed—not to mention a long foray into the cul-de-sac of alcohol and drugs—I continued to read two or three books a week, mostly history and anthropology, science (I was extremely interested in quantum physics around this time), and, of course, philosophy and religion. I 'discovered' the burgeoning world of postmodernism and post-structuralism, and worked my way through philosophical works by Jean-François Lyotard, Jacques Derrida, Michel Foucault, Jean Baudrillard, Julia Kristeva, and Jacques Lacan. I also started to venture into doing more writing, most of which resembled poor imitations of Jack Keroac and William S. Burroughs.

I did not know at the time how the use of alcohol and drugs affected one's brain chemistry and the working of neurostransmitters, specifically dopamine and serotonin, by causing neurochemical imbalance in the brain. Overusing alcohol and drugs convinces the brain it is over-producing dopamine and serotonin, two neurotransmitters responsible for feelings of emotional balance, mood, happiness, and well-being. To compensate for what it believes is an overproduction, the brain decreases its output of dopamine and serotonin which then causes 'gray' (or neutral) feelings and ultimately a type of depression. The only time these feelings 'go away' is through the reusing of drugs and alcohol which poorly imitate the reduced neurotransmitters. Through this vicious circle of drug use and subsequent neurotransmitter reduction, the cycle of addiction is born—the more one uses drugs the less neurotransmitters are produced which stimulates greater drug use to 'counterbalance' the decreased neurotransmitters which results in further reduction of neurotransmitter production (or an alteration in the function of neural receptors) and round and round and round she goes. See the The Role of Serotonin in Alcohol's Effect on the Brain and Dopamine and Addiction.

Although I wasn't 'using' around my family—I was becoming something of a schizophrenic in that I was living two distinct lives—I felt as if my life had become simply gray. I wasn't necessarily unhappy, but I wasn't happy either. There was only this sense of 'grayness' underlying everything. I only felt feelings of 'happiness' whenever I found myself using and, by default, with people around me who were also using. In time, I began drawing away from TJ, my family, my old friends, and building emotional attachments to my drinking and drugging 'buddies'. This inevitably led to other women.

In 1985 my son, R, was born. It was one of the proudest days of my life and led me to cut back dramatically on my alcohol and drug consumption—at least for a while. Because TJ worked days and I worked nights, she returned to work eight weeks after her pregnancy leaving me with the baby during the day. I quickly proved to be a competent parent and greatly enjoyed taking care of R—even bottle feeding, changing diapers, giving baths, going grocery shopping. Because I was now confined to the house most days and had to get up early to be with the baby I was also doing most of the housework, the laundry, even had dinner ready for TJ when she returned home at night. Once TJ got home we would trade off the baby and I would leave for work at the restaurant. In time we found ourselves in a comfortable working routine, and it was because of this routine that I found myself slipping back into my old ways. My alcohol and drug consumption edged back up and I started pursuing other women, which resulted in fierce doomed romances that flared hot but died quickly. This was one of the darkest periods of my life, although there would be more yet to come. Because of TJ's illimitable capacity for forgiveness and grace, she stuck it out with me—as she would do again on two other occassions—and convinced me to clean up my act and to start taking responsibilty for myself and my family. I agreed, and dove into the project with the tenacity and perseverance as only a 'dry drunk' can.

When R turned one year old, TJ and I purchased a house in Shoreline, a bedroom community just north of Seattle. I also found a new job bartending at Anthony's Homeport in Edmonds which was just a few miles northwest from our Shoreline home. During this time I cut way back on my alcohol consumption—only a beer or two after work—and stayed away from drugs. I also started writing again in earnest.

A year-and-a-half later my daughter L was born. Because TJ was working days and I was still working nights, I took care of both children during the day and handed them off to TJ for night duty before I headed off to work. I truly enjoyed taking care of the children during the day, feeding them, entertaining them, taking them places, and would not have traded these times for anything in the world. In the end I think it was my love for the children and my desire to be a good father to them that preventing TJ from divorcing me. True, she also loved me, but the limits of love can be sorely tested.

When my daughter L was barely a month old I accepted a position as the lead night bartender at the 13 Coins in downtown Seattle. It offered considerably more money and stability than my bartending job in Edmonds and because I was wanting to prove myself to be a responsible 'family man' I had every intention of walking the straight and narrow. And I did, too for about two-and-a-half years, but the availability of drugs flowing in and out of the Seattle restaurant scene finally lured me back into the 'dark side'. It wasn't long until I was entrenched in my 'old ways' and feeling the 'grayness' close back in.

Denial is a powerful thing, the prince of lies. It convinced me that TJ and I weren't really in love and that we were only staying together for the sake of the children. In order to start 'seeing' another woman, MM, I deceived everyone around me, especially myself. Eventually I came clean with TJ and explained to her that I needed my own 'space' in order to determine what our future might hold. I found a studio apartment at the Carlton not far from the 13 Coins and moved in while I was 'seeing' MM. After a year this too fell apart so I tucked my tail between my legs and moved back home, where I was fed and gladly ate conspicuous helpings of crow.

Almost immedately I found myself drawn to another co-worker, TF, and although I entered into that relationship thinking we were only going to be friends my attraction to her got the better of me. After a couple of months I fully believed I had 'fallen in love' with TF and was entertaining ways I might leave TJ, but—truth be told—I couldn't bear to think what leaving would do to my relationship with my children.

Because I wanted it both ways—to be a 'family man' with my children and to be with TF—I began to lie to everyone. I lied to TJ and the kids, I lied to my parents, I lied to my friends and co-workers, and I lied to TF. Everyone deserved better. At first I hated myself for lying, but I could think of no other way around my dilemma. Sadly, in time, because everyone believed whatever I told them, my lying became almost second nature. Eventually the truth came out (as it almost always does). TF contacted TJ to find out whether or not there really was a "divorce in the works," and before the dust settled I found myself out in the cold, alone, back in another apartment, without a wife or a girlfriend.

At this point I thought it was all over for TJ and me. Now 'separated', we divided up our time with the children like any rational 'divorced' couple. I was heart-broken and greatly confused. I still had strong feelings for TJ and my family and yet I believed I 'loved' TF. I didn't know what to do, but wait for the divorce papers to arrive in the mail. After a couple of months went by, TF started dating another co-worker from the 13 Coins. Still, I wasn't willing to patch things up with TJ or move back home, but waited more than a year for something to nudge me. When TJ decided it was time to refinance the Shoreline house to obtain a lower interest rate I agreed finally to move back home. We tried putting up a good front, but I was still confused and inwardly miserable. I was in pain, believing I'd lost sight of love (I was an utter fool, of course, neglecting the remarkable light of love that was right in front of me, but more of that later). To compensate, I started drinking and drugging more than ever. I didn't know it at the time, but I was on a downward spiral, spinning out of control, and something had to give. It was only a matter of when. Little did I know, but it would not only save my life but impel it in an entirely new direction.