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.