My brother asked me a while back if ex was happy about the result of the last court date, with astoundingly foul language I won't repeat here. He also made some indelicate suggestions about what to send ex in the mail. I love my brother.
My lawyer's assistant forgot to put me on her boss' schedule for our December appointment in court, so I had to sit in the courtroom with ex for an hour, right fucking next to him because he is the BEST EX HUSBAND EVER, fuming, to request a continuance to January. My lawyer's assistant called me to apologize and burst into tears, which made ME cry.
I don't know if he was happy or not. I didn't ask, and I don't care anymore. (I shouldn't say I don't care. I should say that it doesn't mean anything to me, but I'm not there yet.) He was very kind and understanding, which also doesn't mean anything anymore because he's hurt me too many times. It could be part of his current public act I've mentioned: The Perfect Father & Ex Husband. Or it could be totally sincere. I really have no idea and it's all wrapped up in my PTSD anxiety about never knowing what the hell he'll do next.
All I know is that when I assert myself he starts telling me what he thinks is the matter with me, or I hear something from the kids about something he said about me, my partner, or my friends, or he gleefully hints about what his family thinks about me, and once, he went out drinking with some friends and a friend of his (used to be a friend of OURS) started messaging me ugly things in the middle of the night, calling me a bitch for divorcing him. That night he sent me emails and texts and called me (I never answered) leaving me phone messages telling me to ignore his friend, and another friend of ours who was there was also messaging me to ignore the guy. I was up all night with anxiety attacks and it took me a week of misery to let that one go.
He scares me. A text or email can trigger me into an anxiety attack, and sometimes when we're in the same room, though that one is fairly rare as he doesn't show that side of himself if the kids or anyone else is around. When he tried to kiss my shoulder from behind a while back, I had an anxiety attack. I started shaking, and hyperventilating, and it took everything I had not to bolt. If nothing else I have a strong sense of responsibility to protect my children, and they don't need to see their mother flee in panic. It also happened when we were talking out in front of the house, doing the personal space dance. I don't want him in my personal space anymore. He wants to be in my space. So I move back a step and he follows. I think we went all over the driveway that evening.
I look at him like a science experiment that could explode at any moment: I keep my cards close to my chest, nod and smile at the grinning lunatic, get mad at myself when I let him hug me, then get the hell out of dodge. I'm going to be nice until the divorce is final, more likely until he pays me for my share of the house we co-own, then the gloves are off. I'm tired of being afraid of asserting myself, fearing that he'll start trying to control or manipulate me, or change his mind again about something we agreed on. I'm storing every text and email from him. I don't have plans to be unkind, but I do have plans to keep him out of my house and only talking about the kids. Nothing else. I should have collected keys and garage door opener, but he needs to help the kids get stuff in and out of the house and garage sometimes. I'm in the process of making that unnecessary for him.
That day in court did get him to suggest we meet with my lawyer BEFORE the next court date (my idea, suggested weeks and weeks before which he declined then forgot about) so he can get his penny pinching number details needs sorted out in his head so he'd sign the stupidy papers. He said he'd call her to schedule the appointment, then told me he wasn't going to call weeks later, that she was my lawyer, and would I please schedule the appointment before Christmas.
Incidentally, since then he's refused to sign any more papers. But it's too late. He shot himself in the foot. He was too cheap to get a lawyer and 'trusted' that I'd do right by him. What he did was sign enough so it doesn't matter that he refused to sign any more after that. I've forced his hand and am going to court one last time so the judge can bang that gavel and set me free.
Sigh.
Seven months later I'm still waiting for the divorce to be final. I'm counting on my fingers.
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