Please Give Me A Divorce

(Wow. Why didn't I think of that?! As if it was that easy.)

The last time I went to court my lawyer and I sat at the table facing the judge as she explained the situation, and the judge spent some time looking over the previous divorce paperwork. My lawyer helped the judge find the place where ex signed the previous papers, and then the last one he refused to sign. 

I sat there, anxiety ridden, worried that Ex would show up although my lawyer assured me he wouldn't be able to talk. This hearing wasn't about him.

Ex shot himself in foot again. He didn't sign form he insisted we redo for the fourth time because "the numbers weren't right". Unfortunately for him (I don't really think he thought it through) signing that last paper would have reduced his spousal support payment. I listened to the judge and my lawyer go back and forth for a little while, discussing where he signed and where he did not, looking for this page and that, when finally my lawyer said,

"Your honor, my client just wants to be divorced." 

That's when I piped up, "He's not going to sign anything else. He refuses to sign one more thing." 

The judge looked at me levelly, and said, "DONE! You're divorced.", and added that he was signing that I receive the higher amount of support that Ex last agreed to. 

$50 he would have saved by signing. I would have taken less. I just wanted it to be over.

I didn't realize until recently that refusing to sign legal papers is another form of emotional abuse. Well, it backfired on him this time.

I just wanted to be free of him.

The Narcissistic Parent

Found this here:

"Narcissists make deplorably bad parents. They are too focused on themselves to find children anything but an annoyance or a way to increase admiration and power. Many narcissists become parents either by accident or for some ill-thought out self-serving purpose.

Narcissists have two faces -- the one they wear in public, and the one they wear at home. Only those close to the narcissist have any idea there is more than one face. And the narcissist's children know best of all, because children - those who have the least power - are the ones the narcissist allows him or herself to be the least guarded around. A frequent frustration of children of narcissists is that everyone else thinks their mother or father is the most wonderful person ever, while at home their children suffer in silence with their parent's tantrums, disinterest and put-downs -- this is clearly NOT the most wonderful person if you truly know them -- not even close.

Narcissistic parents view and treat their children only as extensions or reflections of themselves. They see their children the way an advertiser sees a sign by the side of the road - as something to put their name on and use to build themselves up, or as something someone else is responsible for that they can ignore if they aren't interested. Because narcissists' families are centered around the whims and wishes of a truly self-centered parent, they are highly dysfunctional and do not allow children to question the parent or express their needs. Most narcissists treat their children badly in a few key ways -- emotional abuse, excessive parental control and parental neglect are all typical of narcissistic parents.

Narcissists cannot see their actual children and do not accept their needs. The narcissistic father who looks at his son and sees not an active, athletic little boy who is brilliantly gifted in sports and outdoor activities who needs more playtime, but an inanimate lump of clay he will shape into a doctor to brag about is just one of many examples of narcissistic parenting. (The reverse is often true as well; whatever the parent values takes priority.) The narcissistic mother who criticizes and hides behind a veneer of martyrdom when her child needs her support is another common manifestation of a narcissistic parent. Narcissists typically treat their children as if they're not good enough, and yet when the child does do well, the parent will either ignore and deny the event or take all the credit for it. (A common exception to the general rule of being treated as inferior is the treatment of the family "golden child", whom the narcissistic parent will treat as exceptional, superior and entitled.)

It's not uncommon for narcissists to be somewhat more agreeable as parents when their children are younger and easier to control. Many children of narcissistic parents report that their parents weren't as emotionally abusive when the children were young preschoolers - or were pre-adolescents. Some narcissists pay plenty of attention to small children, who make excellent captive audiences that narcissists find fun to impress and manipulate, only to completely turn away from (or turn against) those same children in later years. However, some narcissists dislike all children on the whole and have no interest in them at any age. To these narcissists, all children are viewed as nothing but an annoyance. Narcissists don't like to be questioned and don't want to deal with children who can stand up for themselves. It's common for some narcissistic parents to become more abusive toward their children when the children reach the age of reason (about 7 years old) or when the children enter into puberty, which many of these parents find very psychologically threatening.

Adult children of narcissists typically describe their parents as mean, phony, self-absorbed, judgmental, dishonest, immature and manipulative.

Some narcissistic parents are controlling and engulf their children. Others simply ignore their children and wish they would go away. However, all narcissistic parents fail to treat their children as authentic individuals who have their own unique characteristics and needs. Narcissists treat their children as mere blank screens for projecting their own internal "movies" onto.

There are narcissistic parents who deny their children's existence by insisting their children be and do what THEY want, and there are those who deny their children's existence by simply ignoring their children altogether. (Many narcissistic parents do both alternately, depending on which circumstances serve them best.)"

When I let Ex know what Son's grades were (fucking fantastic for a young man who has a visual processing disorder, ADHD, depression, and oppositional defiant disorder) he peppered me with questions, and each time he shot another one at me I became more and more angry. Do you know how hard it was for Son to get all that work done? He got a low progress report, then he busted his behind (with me helping him schedule tutors and teachers) to get the unfinished work finished and the points made up to earn enough points to get a C, two B's, and FIVE A's!!! 

FIVE!

I am so proud I could bust.

All Ex said after the peppering was, 'In two weeks he went from D's, C's, and a B to these grades? I wish school had been that easy when I was a kid.'

ASS. HOLE. What he meant was, they are letting Son slide through and he doesn't work as hard or as well as he should. DOESN'T WORK HARD and SHOULD, being the key words.

My heart breaks that I can't protect son from his negativity and unfairness, and most of all his control.

Ex shows his true character again.

Silly Narcissists!

I hope you're having a wonderful weekend!

Are You A Normal?

Negativity Screws Up Everything

I'm heading out of town for a week to spend much anticipated time with good friends and family, so there won't be many posts while I'm gone unless I think of something I'd like to write about while I'm vegging. I've queued a few for the weekend but it might be sparse until the week after.

I appreciate you reading my posts. Please know that I enjoy writing them for others to read (and my healing) and perhaps you'll feel you're not alone. It helped/s me a lot to reach out to people who'd been abused as well.

Remember that positivity and self love is very important.

Take Care Of Yourself!

I Was Toxic To Myself

"You don't ever have to feel guilty about removing toxic people from your life. It doesn't matter whether someone is a relative, romantic interest, employer, childhood friend, or a new acquaintance - You don't have to make room for people who cause you pain or make you feel small. It's one thing if a person owns up to their behavior and makes an effort to change. But if a person disregards your feelings, ignores your boundaries, and "continues" to treat you in a harmful way, they need to go."

- Danielle Koepke

I felt guilty for a long, long time about leaving Ex. Guilty about "ruining" my children's lives. Guilty about this, that, and everything throughout my life.

Where did this guilt come from? Why did I feel so bad about taking care of myself?

Because I didn't know I wasn't taking care of myself, and part of taking care of myself is letting guilt go - especially when the guilt is all wrapped up in NOT TAKING CARE OF MYSELF.

Shite.

Astounding Father's Day Assholeyness

 

Ex texted me on Thursday and asked me to make sure the kids do something for him for Father's Day.

...

Are you kidding me? What. The. Hell. The unmitigated GALL was what was astounding to me.

I suppose that if you did this thinking that it makes you The BEST DAD AND EX HUSBAND EVER I can see how you would expect your ex wife to make sure your kids do something for you for Father's Day.

Asshole. Unbelievable. 

I am so mad thinking about it I don't even know what to type, so I'll make a list here of what I think a real father is (In some instances quoted from here. I love this woman's blog and she inspires much of my writing.), and a father deserving respect on Father's Day. 

I'm not a big practitioner of commericalized holidays anymore, because I think my kids shouldn't feel obligated to make a big, expensive production out of it. A hug and a kiss will do nicely, thank you. An 'I love you' and a relaxing day enjoying my kids and counting my blessings would have been the perfect day. So that's what I try to do.

What Makes A Man A Parent:

A man is not a father if he supports them financially but tears them down emotionally.

A man is not a father if he chooses to treat his children’s mother any other way than respectfully, honorably and valuably.  Lying, demeaning, threatening, degrading, terrorizing and ruining her self-esteem are examples of what NOT to do if you want to call yourself a parent. This is the secondary reason I am divorced. The main reason is that Ex was treating Son that way, and to a lesser extent, Daughter.

A man cannot call himself a father if he only puts the amount of effort into parenting that he feels he is willing to. Ex put so little effort into parenting when we were married that most of the time I felt like a single mother.  If you are actually doing it correctly, parenting is a hard, 24 hour a day, 7 day a week, thankless, sacrificial job.

A man cannot call himself father if he lies about their mother, either to his children or to anyone else (lord knows what he told his family and everyone he knows).  Doing so not only damages the children, it is an act of immaturity and vindictiveness.

My children are coming to see Partner as their stepfather, because he shows them more kindness and unconditional love than their biological father ever has. Partner plays with them, respects their feelings and preferences, talks to them as though they were smart individuals with valid ideas and opinions, and shows their mother more respect and unadulterated love than they saw their father ever give me. 

EVER.

I also see that Partner's children care for me. I love them very much and spending weekends with them when my kids are with Ex makes me very happy. What makes me even more happy is when we spend weekends altogether in a big group like we did when we went to the river a few weekends ago.

The distance between our houses (we go back and forth whenever possible) makes it difficult to do more together, but we plan to remedy that in the future. We're building a future together slowly but surely, as my kids are still getting used to our whole situation.

Ex is incapable of really being the kind of parent my children deserve. I'm letting it go. I've found others to help fill the void including friends, family, and Partner, who has supported us through the end of the worst time of our lives.

I couldn't mold my abuser into the parent my children deserve. I've finally accepted that I can never change Ex, and that I can never truly protect my children when they are with him. They are smart, sensitive and loving people. They will have their relationship with him however it turns out and I will always be there to love and support them in the ways that he does not, will not, and cannot.

I can't fix their loss, but I can encourage them and watch them bloom.

I Understand How You Feel

I hope you're enjoying your weekend!

Shut The Fuck Up, Voice In My Head

I was going to post a pretty, self help picture for you to enjoy today about some of the stuff I'm working on in myself, but I found a typo in it and my inner Grammar Nazi is still trying to recover from the offense.

So, I'm going to type it out instead and look for another .jpg to put with it...here:

(really has nothing to do with the post, but cracked me up - and if you don't know Ms. Frizzle, you haven't lived)

It doesn't make sense to call ourselves ugly, because we don't really see ourselves. 

We don't watch ourselves sleeping in bed, curled up silent with our chests rising and falling with our own rhythm. 

We don't see ourselves reading a book, eyes fluttering and glowing. 

We don't see ourselves looking at someone with love and care in our heart. 

There's no mirror in our way when we're laughing and smiling and pure happiness is leaking out of us. 

We would know exactly how bright and beautiful we are if we saw ourselves in the moments where we are truly our authentic selves.

(stupid voice in my head)

My Pandora's Box

I went in to see my doctor last month, and every time I go into her office there is a form there they ask me to fill out. The form wants to know if you feel you're being abused and whether you think you're in danger. I looked at that form and thought, and thought, and I decided what the hell.

It was my Pandora's Box of emotions.

I didn't realize until I started typing this post that this event was the catalyst that sent me into a tailspin that is the worst bout of depression I've ever had. 

It scared me.

A few years ago when I tried to divorce Ex the first time I was diagnosed with situational depression, which essentially means that if the situation changes, your depression goes away. 

Sometimes.

So while I sat in the doctor's office waiting for her to come in, I filled out the form. Had I suffered abuse? I marked yes. Did I have any physical injuries? No, I put that it was psychological abuse. Was I afraid of my abuser or did I feel I was in danger...no. Not really. Deep down I don't really think he'd put his hands on me. That would completely shatter the illusion of THE PERFECT EX HUSBAND AND FATHER show, and I might just need to be bailed out of jail. 

The doctor came in and asked me how I've been since my last appointment and I updated her on what she and I talked about last time. My eyes were bright and shiny with the tears I was trying like hell not to spill. She took one look at that and picked up the paper I'd filled out, read it, and started asking me questions...the same ones I'd answered on the forms. She was verbally verifying my answers. The minute she said the word ABUSE out loud, I lost it. I started crying and as she kindly offered me tissues she listened a little bit about what had been going on in my life. I told her Ex had moved out last October so I wasn't in the living situation anymore, but did tell her that his tentacles still reached me via the Kids and my damaged psyche. She told me I had adjustment disorder, and suggested (for the third time) that I take something to help me get through this tough time. She prescribed me fluoxetine (Prozac) and I finally accepted that I needed help.

The reality that I was an abuse survivor hit me smack between the eyes and I just fell apart. I made it to work, made it through my day, and made it home. I grabbed the dogs and swung by the pharmacy on the way to Partner's house for the weekend, where I promptly started to drink. Not to excess, mind you...just enough to numb myself. And just enough to cry. 

I cried at work and I cried in my favorite swinging chair outside and I cried while falling asleep. The floodgates were open.

I've never been a big drinker. My family loves to drink, particularly good wine, and one time my mother was pouring me a glass when my brother shouted from across the room, "Don't fill up her glass, you know she won't drink it! Give her the rotgut!", where I promptly turned to him and shot back, "I have tried and tried to be an alcoholic and I just can't do it!", muttering about lushes under my breath in a stage whisper, which was well received and we all laughed. 

This is what we do. I love my family. 

That I started drinking one or two glasses every day was near alcoholic proportions for me.

Anyway, that I was having a drink on a Friday night was not unusual. That I then drank every single day for about a month after that, was. As I said, I did not get falling down drunk, I was numbing myself...telling myself I just wanted to try this wine or have a little taste of that Irish cream I love, or share a drink with friends.

Either way, when I drank alone I ended up sobbing into my glass, curled up on my couch, sending one dog running for the room that didn't have a hysterical female in it, and my familiar dog to come cuddle against me as he has always done when I fall apart. I lamented hard and long, screaming to the universe about hating Ex (a serious step for me as I really try to stay away from hate), and my mistreatment at his hands combined with guilt for letting my children live so long in a situation that had most likely warped them, and me, for life. 

I cried and cried and cried. As I said, I scared the shit out of myself. So I took the Prozac and it helped me get ahold of my emotions. It's helped me even out my serotonin so I can look at my life more objectively and start to let things go. 

It also helped me sleep. Sleep! Gloriously deep, REM stage, dreaming sleep. 

I didn't know I wasn't sleeping well until I did. It's been years since I slept like that, and as I pondered it I realized that it was because I was always listening for small voices to call me from their rooms at night, whether they didn't feel well or were scared, which is a lovely reason to sleep lightly and I don't mind.

Alternately I was sleeping lightly because inevitably Ex would come storming into the bedroom and flip the light on in a rage because he couldn't find something, or something didn't work, demanding that I help him, or was just being an asshole because he felt turning on the light to empty his pockets at 11:30pm after I'd been in bed for at least an hour was a reasonable excuse to disturb my sleep patterns.

Sigh.

The point is, I've been taking this depression medication and it has helped me a lot. I know and love a lot of people who take meds for depression, including my son, and I've decided that when my scrip runs out I'm not going to renew it. I feel that by that time I will have a good handle on why and how I fall apart and will have gotten back into the habit of taking better care of myself via cognitive behavioral therapy and stop the voices (not literal voices - that's an altogether different diagnosis - but that bitch in my head that talks to me when I'm not being kind to myself) that put me down.

She tells me I'm fat, I'm guilty of ruining my marriage and children, I'm ugly and lazy, I'm a terrible housekeeper, that I'm going to die alone and that my children will resent me.

I hate that bitch, and when she sneaks up behind me and starts whispering all of these negative thoughts into my head I get out my hammer and blast her into oblivion.

It's a work in progress.

My Son's First Word Was Cock

(or manners)

I swear it wasn't my fault. He was trying to say truck.

I never said that word in front of him, and back then I hardly ever swore out loud at all. I was teaching school and I found that if I didn't curb the sailor mouth I'd grown up with I did it inadvertently at work, or in front of my wonderful church lady grandmother, or some other place that wasn't appropriate.

I was reading this (it cracked me up) and it got me to thinking about my own potty mouth. Son is about to turn 15. He swears. And as a result, so does Daughter. I gave up trying to stop them and am trying to teach them when NOT to swear.

I also gave up not swearing in front of them.

This brings me back to my mother who told me way back when that when she couldn't stop my brother and I from doing things like burping astoundingly at the dinner table, that she gave up and learned how to burp loudly too, still attempting to instill manners in us nonetheless.

It worked. My brother and I can both pass for civilized beings when we want to and we know which fork to use with what course at the table. A lost art.

Interestingly (but not surprisingly) my children's manners and behavior are two of the many things that I worried about more before I got divorced because Ex didn't want bad manners in his house...the misbehavior at the dinner table, in particular. Oh, he would spit the food out I cooked for him in front of the children, pass gas as loudly as he could at the table, then get up and leave before everyone was finished eating (one thing I find extremely rude, not to mention a bad example), but lord help us if one of us did the same thing. I lost count of how many times dinner devolved into a shouting match between he and wonderful and challenging ADHD Son, Daughter watching with big eyes from her seat at the table, and me trying to make peace, my anxiety levels going through the roof as I was terrified that screaming or shoving would start...watching helplessly as Ex slowly but surely rubbed what little self esteem Son had away with his emotional abuse.

Oddly enough (sarcasm, in case you didn't catch it) I have an aversion to making them sit at the dinner table now, though we always sit down to eat together unless other activities prevent it.

I am happy to say that I hear from other adults that my children are kind, polite, and well mannered at other people's houses.

I'll take it.

This makes me very happy because despite what Ex imposed on them (still does at his house, I'm sure) and that I imposed on them in his name, they have the kindness and manners my southern grandmother would have been proud of.

When they're not at home with me. *grin*

How To Recognize And Stop Dating A Narcissist

Originally here:

"It's pretty easy to spot the classic narcissist as defined by Merriam-Webster. Narcissism is defined as extreme selfishness, with a grandiose view of one's own talents and a craving for admiration.

It's a bit more complex when it's not so black and white, when the man you're dating is cleverly cloaked as the charming "nice guy." It's intoxicating to be around him. He's fun and exciting. It feels like he's your true soul connection. It's easy to lose your head and heart once you become emotionally or sexually involved.
If you learn how to spot a narcissist from the outset of a relationship, you can stop dating him right away. You won't experience the shock and heartbreak that Gina did. And soon you'll begin to attract healthier relationships into your life.

Here are six ways to recognize and stop dating a narcissist:

When you express your needs, he gets defensive. A narcissist puts his own needs first. He doesn't care about what matters to you, and will defend himself instead of apologizing. Address it the first time this happens and see how he responds. If he can't respect and honor your needs, walk away.

When the going gets tough, he gets going. A narcissist can't handle the pressures of your emotional life. He will be there for the fun times, but as soon as you have any type of personal crisis, he won't be there to support you. A good relationship is built on mutual support. This guy will not be there for you in tough times. Leave now, before it gets harder.

When he's hurt, he doesn't feel sad. He feels rage. If you express that you're upset with something he said or did, he will rage at you and deflect responsibility for his actions. A healthy relationship is one in which both parties feel safe, can express their needs without judgment, and take full responsibility for their contribution to the problem. If he can't do this, you should not stay with him.

He runs hot and cold. Narcissists will give you mixed signals. He'll be really into you, telling you that you're the most incredible woman he's ever met, and the next day, he is pulling away, acting aloof. It is crazy making. If you see these signs early on, it'll be easier for you to make a clean break.

He gets angry when you discuss exclusivity. Narcissists are often enamored with their freedom. If you talk to him about commitment after you've been dating for a few months, he will probably feel like a caged bird and blame you for wanting to box him in. In a healthy relationship, if one person is not ready to be exclusive, you can talk about it in a respectful way. You both get to choose whether it makes sense to stay or go. If a man is not on the same page as you in terms of monogamy, leave him to make room for one who wants an exclusive relationship.

His actions and words don't match. Pay attention to what he does more than what he says. Many narcissists are wordsmiths. They lure you in with their charming words, but they don't follow through with their actions. If it's too good to be true, it usually is.

If he exhibits any of the above behaviors, you should get out of this relationship as soon as possible. How?
Don't make demands on him to change. He won't.

Don't nag him or play games with him, such as making him chase you by playing hard to get. These tactics will never get him to be the kind of guy with whom you can forge a healthy relationship.

Do speak to him with firm conviction. Tell him that this relationship is not working for you.

And this is crucial: walk away, never to look back and hope for reconciliation.

Sandy Weiner"

What Do Survivors Of Abuse Want?

A list of things survivors of abuse want:

1. To be left alone.

The end.

Is Your Identity Based On Your Last Name?

I was reading this article about identity being tied up with your last name and I think the answer is, sometimes. It really depends on the circumstances and the person. 

I'm taking back my maiden name. Actually, I never got rid of it...just tacked my married name on the end. It made my name ludicrously long, and amused me to no end when I couldn't fit it onto forms. 

When I was getting married my first inclination was to keep my family name. I don't know why, except that I had girlfriends who didn't plan to change their names as they felt it unnecessary and old fashioned. I thought it sounded like a pain in the behind, and it is, particularly when you come to a point in your life where your name is out there in the world on more than just your social security card, the bank, and the DMV. Ex told me it was important to him and would mean a lot if I took his name so, just like with everything else, I caved and did what he wanted me to do.

I didn't discuss it with anyone really, except Partner, my mom and brother. I told them I was taking my name back (really I should say, ditching my married name - but taking my name back sounds much more powerful, and I need to feel powerful right now) because my married family has shunned me, as of my filing divorce papers. I talked about that here. I was proud and happy, mostly, to be a part of the huge clan I married into. They were tight knit and though gossipy, nosy and controlling, they were loving and fun, and had money for big trips and lavish presents. I'd always dreamed of having a big family, as mine was filled with depressive lunatics as well as good, gold-hearted people I adore, that are just too damned far away.

Turns out, you only get to be a part of Ex's extended family if you follow their rules. Duh. I didn't follow the rules, therefore SHUNNED. I'm not the only one who bailed out over the years. There are several of us now, walking wounded who ran for the hills, and I remember the shock, dismay, then utter mean spirited gossip, speculation, and rumors that started immediately on discovering they willingly left the clan.

Yeah, that's me now too. Being shunned by people who professed to love and care about me triggered my abandonment issues and my insecurity. Things I'm working hard on right now.

My family has never left my side, even when I 'abandoned' (my word, not theirs) them as I decided to start pretending everything was ok. They never wavered in their love and support no matter what was happening, and I want to symbolically fold myself back into their bosom.

It means a lot to me.

I worried that my children would be unhappy about me having a different last name, and very briefly I worried about the possible confusion of having a different last name in society. "Society" can kiss my ass too. I need to talk with Kids about it. I will report back with the results of that conversation after I have it. I don't imagine they'd have a problem with it, but with my sweet knuckleheads, you never know. Also, they deserve to know because it will most likely come up sometime.

I briefly considered asking their opinion before I did it, and then I decided that it was my name and I was no longer going to ask anyone for their permission about anything. 

Fuck that. Those days are over. I will consider opinions and suggestions, then decide and do whatever the hell I want.

I'm getting better at it.

Now I'm happier.

My family. Hope you're having a great weekend!

I'm headed to visit my mom, my brother and his partner for the weekend. We need to sit right up next to each other and commune. It's been too long. We have some talking, crying and laughing to do together. Also, it's going to be hotter than blazes where I live and the dogs and I are getting the hell out of dodge. Enjoy your weekend and I'm going to try not to worry. How about you?

Narcissistic Rage

I was reading this and it triggered memories for me. Memories of my father throwing things, screaming and yelling, breaking things...and the abject terror it caused my brother and I, and my mother too.

Wow.

I was reading this and I got to the part where she brings up childhood and that what you learned about being abused as a child affects your adult life. It got me thinking THAT didn't happen to ME. I love my parents. They weren't abusive! So I skimmed those parts of the book and kept reading.

It hit me. My father was emotionally abusive. He was funny and kind and loving and adored us...but when he was angry, we all ducked and covered. And his sarcasm cut like a knife. You didn't want to be the one he was aiming it at. Anything from a bad driver to a young girl walking by chewing gum with her mouth open would set him off.

I remember once he was replacing a toilet that leaked and he bought a brand new one. Big porcelain bowl and all, and if you've ever tried to lift one of those, you know it's heavy. He was replacing it by himself and I just remember hearing a THUNK! Pause...then a slew of every curse word my father knew (and he knows them ALL) started flying out the bathroom door down the hallway and through the house like a black cloud of terror, causing all of us to lay low and quiet. Have you ever seen a dog when he knows he's been naughty? That low to the ground, no eye contact body posture? That's how we would react. Be invisible and the rage can't see you. Tools started flying out the bathroom door down the hallway and the dog was running for cover.

I don't remember much after that, but my childhood is filled with happy memories mixed with incidents of screaming rage that ended when my mother decided enough was enough, for more than the emotionally abusive reason I won't go into here now, and filed for divorce.

To this day my father loves my mother, my brother and I dearly. He royally pisses her off, though I think she may still care for him too.

I have talked to my mother about not really remembering a lot of my childhood and it used to disturb me. We moved often because we were Air Force brats and I just figured between losing friends, moving schools and being severely introverted was the reason.

Now I realize it's probably because there are a lot of painful memories I repressed. I'm not sure if I want to pursue it or not. I'll have to think about it.

It's weird and amazing the things I'm learning about myself through self help books, Prozac and writing this blog. Introspection is not something I was able to do a lot of when I was in the trenches with Ex, because I was working so hard to pretend everything was ok and that I could fix it all. I'm getting back into the swing of it. Having the kids with me every other week, though it's painful to me to miss so much of their lives, has the mixed blessing of giving me time to find myself again and relearn how to stop constantly preparing for explosions and disaster.

It's a long road.

Let Them Be

I sat next to him and made nice. I didn't want to. I didn't plan on it. I never plan on it. Right before we end up at an event for our Kids I talk to myself:

"You don't want to sit next to him. He makes you uncomfortable. So don't do it!"

Then, as always, I arrive first and sit down. Then he comes in and sits next to me. He's always been late to everything. 

Sigh. 

It rarely ends up being as yucky as it feels at first. I roll my eyes inwardly and then as we focus on Kids I remember that there were times when we worked together well. We still can, if we only talk about Kids. When the conversation leaves the immediate subject of Kids, everything goes to hell. He starts telling me what to do and how to do it, or refuses to compromise about something, insinuates his control as much as he can,  and I just nod and smile until I can get the hell out. He also continues to pester me about this and that continually via text until I stop answering him. 

Inevitably when we're doing something having to do with Kids, inexplicably he starts to cry. I don't know if he's crying about the injustice of Kids having to go through their life events without married parents and what their mother DID TO THEM, if he's lamenting the years of abuse he heaped on me that caused this situation, or if he's just genuinely moved by the Kid event that is happening. 

It's hard to say because I don't ask. And I don't ask because I don't want to know. I no longer care and don't want to open the floodgates to a conversation where I will end up sobbing and wishing I'd never opened my mouth. 

That's where I always end up. A sobbing mess. I've cried so many tears for him over the years I could float a battleship. I won't give him the satisfaction of seeing that he can still move me. I know that it makes him feel powerful if he can affect me thus. 

Screw that. 

Daughter was so beautiful and silly and happy up there. Unless she locked eyes with her father. He silently admonishes her with gestures and lip reading to act appropriately: sit up straight, knees together, neat clothing and hair, angelic smile, and absolutely no goofball faces or gestures, which is what she throws my way when he's not looking because she knows it will make me laugh. 

She's a girl after her mother's heart. I'm the same way. I let the girl be who she wants to be. 

He never could do that with either child, or their mother. No one has ever been good enough for him, particularly himself. 

But that's another post. 

Sigh. 

All I can do is love and encourage them to be who they yearn to be and hopefully they won't be too damaged by who he wants and tries to make them be. 

Comingling Families

Partner (who lives a little under an hour away) and I took Kids (mine and his) overnight with some very good friends of ours near his house Friday night, Kids and I stayed home Saturday to they could hang around with their local friends, then Partner and I took all the kids to the river near Partner's house all afternoon Sunday with more good friends and dogs. It's a lot of driving, but it's worth it. It's sometimes difficult to get mine out of the house because we're all screen/movie/book geeks (computer, gaming, phone, laptop, etc.) but once I did, they had a great time. I try to get them out of the house somewhere or another away from screens every weekend they're with me.

We had one of the best weekends, ever, on record. Son keeps asking me when we can go back again and I am absolutely thrilled because he's an introvert like me, and has a hard time in groups of people he doesn't know. Partner calls it co-mingling our families. We love to co-mingle. I am so happy! Happier than I've ever been.

This may not seem like an odd weekend to you.

When I was with Ex, he would never have agreed to have a weekend like this unless it was a huge gathering of his own family, or a group of his friends that we were joining up with. First of all, we didn't have many friends, and mine had all but disappeared, as his control and mental health issues stopped me from seeing them. 

If you stop accepting invitations, people eventually stop inviting you. 

There was always a giant list of TO DOs in his head, that inevitably didn't get done because there were so many THINGS THAT HAD TO GET DONE he would become overwhelmed and not do any. Either that or he would start several projects and leave them unfinished all over the inside and outside of the house, because it was just too much, leaving detritus reminders that would depress him and make him angry. 

This caused me a lot of angst and anxiety because I hate having a cluttered house (one of my issues - clutter all over my own house makes me feel scattered and uncomfortable) and he would become cranky when he was doing all the THINGS. In addition to that, everyone in the house had to be working hard and beware his anger if they weren't - including our children no matter what they had going on or how old they were. My anxiety came because I knew that he would blow up at any moment at any of us for any reason, and I ran around like a neurotic chicken with my head cut off trying to make sure everyone was doing what he wanted them to be doing, assuming, of course, that I was correct in my assumption of what he wanted everyone to be doing, (can you say codependent?) so there would be no blowup. Which was fruitless, of course, because I had no control over what he did.

How the hell did I ever manage to live that way? What the hell? I'm feeling anxious just thinking about managing all that. 

It's funny because now when I ask Kids to do something for me they are pretty willing to do it. There is no anger or verbal battling when I ask and there is no crazy hidden agenda about keeping score with what I'm doing around the house. I ask them to help me out, and for the most part they happily do it. Whether it be mowing the lawn, caring for the animals, or cleaning up after themselves, they seem happy to contribute. 

It's a happier and relaxed way to live. Whoda thunk??

I Can't Protect Them From Him

Son came into my room Saturday evening and said, "Mom, ever since dad left you let us do anything we want. You're not as strict anymore. Why is that? Why now?"

I thought very carefully and replied, "When your dad was here I tried really hard to parent the way he wanted to because I thought it was important. Now I parent the way I want to."

He left the room smiling, my voice trailing after him, "I don't let you do whatever you want!", and I don't. 

Compared to the micromanaging and emotionally abusive blackmail I know goes on over there, it probably feels that way. 

Now I'm smiling because, though I know I can't protect them from him all the time, I know that when they walk through our door they physically and mentally relax, able to be completely themselves and know they are accepted and loved unconditionally.

Today I Am Finally Free

My divorce is final today.

I have my name back.
I have my identity back.
I have my life back.

Cats Are Controlled By The Government

I read the top part and realize I do stuff like this all the time, and I feel that way too. Pets are for entertainment purposes, such as this. 

I like to throw sheets on one of my dogs when I'm changing the beds, and watch him try to get out from under them. The other dog I torment with a plastic, green frog that blows air when you squeeze it. He thinks it's the anti-christ.

 Every time I read the response to the tinfoil cat lady, I die laughing.

Can You Say Pissy?

(More correctly, What the fuck are you looking at?)

I went to the aforementioned meeting for abuse help. What happened was, I spend a good amount of time circling after work, looking for the meeting because the lady on the phone didn't tell me that it would be in a building marked for another business. When I went in, another lady asked me to sign in when I told her why I was, and she asked me to sit through the class and ask questions afterward about resources to find exactly the help I was looking for. I mentioned abuse. What she didn't tell me, was that it was a class for women to learn how to interview and find a job. Which is wonderful! When the instructor mentioned that since there were new people we'd do introductions, I got the hell out of there. I sure as hell am not going to sit through the torture of having everyone in the room look at me if I wasn't even in the correct place. (I mentioned in an earlier post that I am an introvert. At any point if an entire room full of people looks directly at me, I have a tendency to have an anxiety attack response. I hyperventilate and stutter, my ears burn, and my face turns red. Fortunately I have enough chutzpah to prevent myself from running, screaming from the room in a panic.)

...

Ok, please note sentence two above. Both women didn't really hear what I was saying. I clearly stated that I was looking for help with my emotional abuse. Both sent me into the wrong group, not listening to what I said to them.

GRRR! (It made me grumpy and pissy. I finally got up and out to go and I ended up in the wrong place.)

I think I'm going to skip Weave and go back to my insurance and ask for one on one therapy. That was not the route I was planning on taking right now, but it sounds like it's going to be my best bet.