Dear Son,

We're doing our very best for you buddy. Hang in there. We'll get through this godforsaken school/life stigma thing...We love you.

-All of us

Tumblrer Twitterer Pinterester Instagramer...Why?!

Social networking...

I'm struggling with my fears and how much to put my story out there. I've gone back and forth for years about what, who, when, where, and why to tell my story without being discovered by Ex.

...I'm struggling, once again, with being the beneficiary of Ex's wrath.

Not to mention the people who would judge me or flat out not believe me. And they are out there...I respect the fact that Ex's family and the friends I lost in the divorce might not choose to believe what went on.

Except for that one Jackhole who texted me in the middle of the night that I was a BITCH for divorcing Ex, thus triggering a week-long anxiety attack. I don't respect him. I do, however, forgive because he has a small brain and has been hurt so badly by his ex-wife that he talks to all women that way.

We all have our karma to work out.

I've started linking some of my social networking accounts together to share my stories a little farther...I have a need, apparently. I ask that if you do see a real life name here and there, or a real life fact that leads you to find out more about me personally, or that your discover you know me AND Ex, that you use your new found information for good and not evil. :)

Why am I spreading my stories a little farther?

To help someone like me?

Revenge?

I love to write?

To get the stories out of my head, like a diary, so I can move on with my day? This, mostly.

I'm afraid Ex will see this blog and be enraged and that it will hamper our new, relaxed, best for the kids relationship.

If he does, what would I say?

I was angry?

I was hurt?

What you thought our relationship was, was not what it was for me?

I'm sorry for outing you? (Because he might choose to damage our relationship further, or take it out on the kids.)

I'm sorry for telling my truth? (I'm not. But I know how I get with him. Tell him what he wants to hear, when I'm afraid, so I can get the fuck out of dodge.)

All these reasons seem paltry next to the deep, deep fear I have about him being mad at me. About any man being mad at me.

I know that's why I haven't linked things together until now...why my blog has been anonymous.

Ask Partner about my fear of angry men, who held my hand while I shook and jumped with fear, and the tears that ran down my face while we were watching, "12 Years As A Slave". Ask the man who soothes me when I hear a loud noise and jump out of my skin. Who tells his Ex no, when she suggests something I can't emotionally handle. The man who holds me tight when my depression gets a hold of me and squeezes until I have to leave work for the day or hide in our bedroom.


I'm deciding to step farther out of my comfort zone a little more and show the world who I really am, because I'm tired of being afraid.

I'm trying to adopt the Zero Fucks Given approach, though I know there will always be things I give fucks about.

*bitch voice in head* WHAT IF THE KIDS SEE IT?!!

Then they do. They already know that my marriage to their dad was difficult and painful, and that mom's house is more relaxing than dad's. I'll answer their questions when they ask them. They are preteen/teenagers now...as for Karma Kids, they see very little media so I don't guess they'll see this any time soon, but when and if they do ask I'll answer as honestly as I can, editing for age.

At some point, I expect, all the kids will realize they have more power about where they stay than they know, and my house will be full more often.

I've put some new links down the sidebar here to some of the places I hang out when I'm supposed to be doing other stuff, like working. :) There will be posts and pictures and things that won't be shown here, so if you're curious, feel free.

Social media: the escape for those who are able to utilize it.

"On Labeling Women Crazy"

Someday, hopefully, I can be the cat.

A friend of mine posted this article, and it hit a nerve because I read it some time ago when I was going through a similar situation with Ex. I wrote about it here. The difference, I explained to my friend, was that, "he said he loved me, and he was occasionally but rarely there. After ten years I was done. It became my fault in the eyes of everyone, except the few I shared with, after all. It's a powerful article.", "Also, I should add, there was more going on and he never said he was leaving. He expected our lives to just continue that way indefinitely."

Sharing with her triggered me into coming here and reading some of my past posts. I mentioned to her that, "This article pretty much sums up why I'm divorced.", and sent her a link to this blog, which terrifies me. It always does when I "come out" to someone who knew me back then because this blog is the essence of my anger and pain when I was getting divorced. It doesn't matter how strongly I felt when I was writing in anger or tears, it's still terrifying to tell someone about it. It's raw, and it's there, and it's real. More ME than anything I ever said out loud, although now it's a past me, and I'm moving on in a healthy way.

I loved her, and I still do, though I haven't seen her in a very long time, and I worry how she will react to reading all this. As I've said before, the only thing I can control is how I feel and how I react.

 
This blog is creeping out into the world more and more as I reveal it to people I knew then, and Ex and I are tentatively moving toward friendship as time passes so I'd like him to never see this - though having it here, there is always a chance that he will. 

If he does, he does. 

I am able to see glimpses of the man I liked and cared for, and it makes it easier to make peace, forgive, and move on.

Dear Asshole,

I wrote this today, while I was getting ready for work. It happened last Saturday at an event with friends where I normally feel very safe, due to the environment filled with burners. Just like anywhere else, there are assholes. Forevermore referred to as THE ASSHOLE, I have changed his name in the spirit of privacy.

"Hey THE ASSHOLE. Do you remember grabbing my ass while I was watching (my bf run his super fun game that folks love) at (event)? I do. I remember being shocked. I remember feeling violated. I remember thinking about it last night as I went to sleep because I wish I hadn't smiled at you when you did it. I remember wishing I'd punched you in the face, though I know I could never do that. Just like I can't say this to your face. Just like I couldn't not smile at you. Why I'm a victim. I'm going to try really hard to forgive you and I'll tell you why: Because you don't know that I am an abuse survivor. You don't know that I just finalized a painful divorce from my abuser. You don't know that I have two teen aged kids who I'm trying to co-parent with my abuser, and in particular a teenage daughter who I hope and wish and pray does not become a victim like me. You don't know that I work for a mental health recovery center with people who are also survivors of abuse and the results of it, among other painful mental health issues, to try to give back to all the people who have helped me in my recovery over the years. I'm going to try really hard to forgive you because somewhere in your brain you thought it was ok to put your hands on me, and I thought I'd help by letting you know that it is never, ever ok to touch anyone without consent. And that silence is not consent. I apologize for not being brave enough to say this to your face, but just typing it to you has helped me kick start the painful process of letting the abuse of my past go, again, along with the other painful memories I have. I wish you well in your recovery."

I froze when he touched me. One of my best friends, and a coworker, pointed out to me that freezing is "flight" in the fight or flight reaction.

When I was in 9th grade, a boy grabbed my ass in the hallway at school. I spun around and screamed at him at the top of my lungs.

What happened to me between there and here? Where is that strong, young girl who was able to react instantly to that violation? What the fuck?

I need to find her.

I'm afraid of what THE ASSHOLE's response is going to be. I'm afraid of what will happen in response. I'm making up stuff to worry about, I know. Probably nothing will happen but thank the tiny baby jesus I've gotten it off my chest.

Pity Party FFS

(PS: Burning Man was enlightening, as usual, and great! I wanted to put that first so I didn't interfere with the pity party below.)

I’ve been depressed about some issues with Son. He’s having a tough time in school which is pretty typical for this time of year, but he’s also got some issues going on, including intimidating me and Daughter when he doesn’t get what he wants, that makes his therapist think he may be developmentally delayed. He’s due for his psych test through the school district, and he’s scheduled. So, as a result I’ve been depressed and have gained weight from emotional eating again, and am considering going back on the anti-depressants my doc put me on after the divorce. I don’t know. Maybe I should try to start exercising again first to see if that helps, or should I do both? There is a really mean voice in my head that tells me taking antidepressants is giving in. How fucked up is that?? I’m also premenstrual, but I was feeling depressed before that. It’s my voice again coming up with reasons why I shouldn’t take them and take care of myself. I’m having trouble at work too, I’m bored and annoyed, and I know that much of it is that there is so much crap in my head I don’t want anyone else’s. It’s too hard to deal with my own lately. The other thing is that antidepressants aren’t in my budget. More stupid voice.

Thanks for listening.

Trusting the Love Drug - Can I Do It?

Partner has been gone for 10. Whole. Days.

"Once, there was a ring on my finger and I thought that meant family. I was wrong."

"But I struggle with it, still. My own vulnerability. Belief in love, in another person’s care and tender judgment. I do not want to be an addict. I do not want to be dependent on love."

"But when he smiles at me, when he makes me laugh, when he says “yes, I will drive across half the country for an adventure if you like” or “yes, I will make the coffee this morning and leave you in your head, leave you to your writing, leave you so I may join you later,” I cannot imagine the world without him in it.

How strange it is to write those words.

How lovely it is to write those words.

I cannot imagine the world without him in it."

Trusting the Love Drug

On Getting Married or The Wedding I Didn't Want or Labels or Whackadoo Tangent Post

(This is my assumed response from you, reading this whackadoo post.)

An acquaintance just announced on Facebook that she is engaged to be married, and has asked for advice. I am excited for her and gave her some, even though she pointed her request at the married ladies. Not thinking, I posted my advice before remembering that I'm newly divorced. 

Force of habit, I guess. 

My identity is still sorting itself out, apparently, even though I feel clear on who and where and what I am...or maybe I'm blurred, which is where I really prefer to be. Blurry feels comfortable. 

That way, I can be whatever I want.

The advice I gave her was this:

"Oh my goodness. First, congratulations! Next, I was anxious too. I had a lot of pressure as well, and caved and didn't really have the event I truly wanted (but that was the nature of my personality and relationships, and not yours). It's seen as a big deal by lots of people, but is your party. You can go to the courthouse or have eleventy-billion people. Your choice. My challenges were my intractable fiance and my pushy mil. I had twice as many people as I wanted and lots of details that I didn't want as well. I had a pushy bridesmaid too, who influenced my choices. If I had to do it all over, I'd have about 20 people. Close family and friends, an oak tree, a simple, matching ring, a red dress, and my guy. That's it. The bottom line is, make it what you want. If you want nothing, just sign the paper. If you want a big deal, make a big deal!", and then added, "Oop! Also, remember that it doesn't matter how it goes: If you end up married, it went well! (Also, I'm newly divorced but I still put my input here.)"

Which led me to thinking about how I used to feel more comfortable with labels and a slots to fit into:

Married, mother, poly, open marriage, codependent, needy, patient, daughter, sister, granddaughter, daughter in law, sister in law, woman, wife, lover, highlighted blond, curvy, big boobed, borderline overweight, wrinkling, girly, self medicating, spacey, kind, helpful, doormat, cousin, stretch marks, high maintenance, conservatively-classically dressed, private, introverted, shy, chapstick obsessed, lazy...

I could keep going on but I just got bored of it.

The point is, I put all these labels on myself (with the help of society and Ex and the other unhelpful people in my life) and fit myself into them one way or another. 

And before I make my next point, let me say that I hate it when people get all lathered up about how labels ruin us and everything and society, though I use them on myself...

I met a woman who, when I asked if she was a vegetarian (we were eating together in a restaurant with some kids and friends), replied that she didn't like labels, that she ate what she was comfortable putting in her body, and then when she realized she had just drunk cold water, that she hadn't drunk cold water for years, then she wondered out loud what it would do to her body.

...

Holy crap.

I can only say here that I hope the look on my face in response didn't match my thoughts, which can be described in a typed action: 

*blink*     or 

O_o         or  

WTF??

Did I make my point? I'm laughing at myself and my tangents now. 

Labels have a place if you are comfortable with them. I've found recently that I'm not comfortable anymore in the labels I wrapped around myself like a shield. In my redefinition I have chosen some new labels for myself (paradoxically) and if I think about them they are:

Divorced, earth mother, in a relationship, open minded, non-judgemental, daughter, sister, woman, Partner, sensitive, patient, lover, blond going gray, beautiful, curvy, self accepting, mostly vegetarian, kind, helpful, cousin, niece, curly haired, natural, chapstick obsessed, burner, organic, re-purposing, recycling...and I got bored again of thinking of things to describe myself but I sound sort of like a hippy - which is where I have leaned my whole life but didn't feel comfortable in THAT label either.

Back to the Facebook response post I started with. I am sorting out my new life and my new identity, and am having a great time doing it, even though it sometimes feels scary as hell. I feel free and totally me for the first time, probably, in my entire life. I owe it to myself, my children, the lessons I've learned, turning 45 (which I did last weekend), and Partner and our blended family, without whom all of this would have happened very differently, but nonetheless it would have happened.

I am brave, I am strong, I am beautiful, and I am loved.

The real point is now I'm ME, goddammit.

Thank you Universe, for all of it.

YEAH.

(There you have it.)

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

I Fell Off My Horse, And It Hurt

I am much stronger than I was before I started divorce proceedings. I was also very strong to stay as long as I did, but had my head in the sand about being able to fix it and make it work,. I tried to leave Ex 6 years ago when his emotional abuse of our son was the straw that broke the camel's back. He made promises and short term changes in order to get me to stay. When I discovered that there were people out in the world who would be happy to treat me and my children with respect and kindness, wouldn't try to control my every move by gaslighting me, wouldn't emotionally and physically abuse me and our kids (mainly our son), and wouldn't treat our two kids so differently that I was terrified he was making Son's mental health issues worse, I had to get the fuck out.

It was no longer just about me and my head in the sand. It was the fact that our son threatened to kill himself when Ex was home alone with the kids, about a year ago. It was that Ex would become so furious with our son that he would shove him to the ground or into a wall, and verbally browbeat him until his self esteem was nonexistent, and I had to get them and myself away form him, as least part of the time if that was all I could manage. Abuse is really, really hard to prove, particularly if it's not physical.

And I am afraid of Ex. I am afraid of the mask of the healthy, caring, considerate husband and father that he puts on when he wants something. Which is everything.

I am afraid that some day he will snap and come for me.

Ex harassed me so much about two months ago via text that I was still shaken weeks later. I should not have engaged him but I'm tired of him, and I made the mistake of trying to reason with a controlling, abusive, unsympathetic philistine. He always starts out by putting on his mask of THE PERFECT FATHER & EX HUSBAND when he wants something and, particularly after a long period of time since we've disagreed, he  slowly slips into his current list of demands, then slips further into why I'm wrong, he's right, and why.

That last time was that he wanted me to pay him back the money he gave me and the kids in good faith, that I took in good faith, to help out before the child support kicked in. Alternately, he tells me to let him know if I ever need money. And he's pissed that I filed my taxes 'married filing separately'. and that he owes the IRS. And he says my lawyer has committed fraud and he's not signing the papers she recently mailed him until she signs something agreeing that he was right all along. (Incidentally, this is the third time we have altered papers to correct what he thinks was wrong with them.)

I don't know why I expected that my doing what he asked would be good enough for him. That my making the changes he asked me to make would satisfy him. That he would stick to his word and sign the papers like he promised if I would just resubmit them with a small change. Why would he change? He's done this to me for 21 years.

When will I learn?

For People Who Don't Understand Why I Had To Get Out

I couldn't explain it well before, I thought. This could have come straight out of my psyche. Emotional manipulation is one of the biggest reasons I ended up getting divorced.

The thing was, there was so MUCH behavior I felt the need to call him on...so, so much. It made me emotionally mute. He had me thinking I was irrational and as a result, my self esteem plummeted and I was silenced. I let people all through my life walk all over me, including Son. It sent me/us to the therapist time and time again.

Ex still does it nearly every single time we talk about anything and I used to fall into his fucking trap every time, but not so much now. Probably because I don't engage him anymore. I deal with the business of Kids and move along, see you later, don't let the door hit you on the ass on the way out.

It's a trap I've never even been sure he knows he's setting. Is control so deep in his psyche that he thinks he's being completely fair and honest in it's execution?

Eventually I started getting out and meeting people that didn't do this to me, and the result is my happy life now.

Someday, in the future, I'd like my children to understand why, really, I upended their lives and mine. But only if they ask. For them and anyone else who asks, I leave this link to the article that states, clearly, what I could not.

This Is Why I Keep My Mouth Shut

I do not badmouth Ex to my children. They have enough stress to deal with without my adding to it. Other adults, depends on my mood and who I'm talking to.

My mom sent me this. Thanks mom, I love you.

Glorifying Divorce

My ex-mother in law and ex-sister in law who once sang my praises, now use my pain to make it about themselves. I realize that they always did it. Not necessarily about me, but about someone, somewhere.

"I don't like to gossip, BUT..."

I know now that I was continually sucked into their traps too. The whole damned family does it. Honestly. You find out who truly cares about you when you go through a divorce.

Is all this negativity bad karma? I try not to live my life negatively. I'm very aware of trying to be forgiving and living my life with love, and I think I'm successful at it now...aside from the bitterness. It's a work in progress. You won't hear about that here very often for now, but I'm trying my damnedest to to it.

One of the reasons I unfriended my ex-inlaws on Facebook in one fell swoop (and let me tell you THAT gave them something to bitch and moan about) was because the last time I received a communication from my ex-mother in law she told me she was disappointed that I was "glorifying divorce". I really want to live my life with love, and I made an attempt to keep my ex-inlaws as friends. I didn't want my children to suffer from the discomfort of everyone being uncomfortable or unkind, and I really, really loved them. And I wanted to continue seeing my nephews as they grow up. They were in my life for a very long time and I didn't want to lose them too. My mother had my dad over for holidays for years after they got divorced and I never really saw how strong and kind she was to work so hard to do that for us. It must have been horrible sometimes, and uncomfortable every time.

After I filed for divorce I went through a period of time looking for support groups on FB. I just wanted to read a little supportive blurb here and there. Something I could read quickly and move on to something to distract me from my often overwhelming anxiety. Though I made my interest group private, I forgot that folks could see the LIKES. Thus, her glorifying divorce comment.

My wonderful coworker and friend gave me a quote that has helped me immensely. "Listen to what they say and it will tell you who they are." I've found this to be true. My office mate suggested I respond to every negative comment with, "Thank you for your support."

So. To all my ex-inlaws (and there are a hell of a lot of them running around out there) who used to say they'd love and support me no matter what, who have now decided that I am the devil, and that my trip to Burning Man 2012 caused me to divorce Ex, I say, "THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT."

They know nothing, NOTHING, (to my knowledge) about Ex abusing me because I never told them. Either that or they don't believe it.

For the record, I don't really blame them for siding with him. It's only natural to form opinions based on one side of the story, and he was in their lives long before I. But it still hurts.

I'm slowly, but surely, turning off their voices in my head so I can get to a place where I don't care what they think of me, and maybe forgiveness eventually.

"What people think of you is none of your business."

Elitist...*EDIT*

Previous, private post:

Today is the meeting with ex and my lawyer so they can hammer out the money. (I'm writing this as I sit at my desk trying to deep breathe my anxiety away, in preparation for leaving for the appointment.) As near as I can tell my only function at this meeting is for me to nod YES to agree with what they come up with so he'll sign the stupidy papers. I know my lawyer will do right by me and I am beyond irritated that I'm using my stipend because he's arguing with her.

My goal is not to let him hug me and to do something nice for myself afterward.

I'll update after the appointment.

Update:

It turned out to be not as bad as I thought it would be, at first. It also turns out we had more things to hammer out: the child support and the spousal support request, the logistics of my staying in the house until I don't want to, Daughter graduates from high school, or when he can buy me out (so I am totally out of his possible control), and splitting up the money floating around here and there.

The thing that bothered me the most was that he was all up in my grill sitting next to me in my lawyer's little office and I was practically leaning out of the other side of the chair. His hand was resting on the left armrest of my seat. He leaned so far over toward me that the files and papers he periodically held up in his right hand almost hit me - I had to dodge them. He knows damned well I have personal space issues. My anxiety at being so close to him exhausted me. Why was he in my space? Was he always like that and I didn't mind before? Why didn't I say anything? I was too busy trying not to bolt from the anxiety attack I was fighting to keep under control. It was hard to concentrate because I was focused on why the hell he thought it was ok to be that close to me and whether I was going to get beaned with a giant folder of papers. And the questions he was asking set my teeth on edge. They were all money related. A lot of his money questions were "to make sure my numbers were being reported accurately" meaning that ultimately I would benefit. Jackass. Where I come from discussing money is impolite and it's still hard for me to get past that. Especially since we never had any growing up, and I know this is all related to his control issues and had nothing to do with my welfare whatsoever. It was a $10 difference, maximum.

FYI, we had it out a few weeks ago via text (It took me two weeks to deal with that event, process, and move on. Is it my fault? I engaged him. That was a mistake. I know better.) and he admitted to me that he's not signing anything else because he wants a signed paper from my lawyer to give to the court that is an apology from her admitting that she was wrong and he was right. He's out of his mind.

Why am I reduced to a quivering mass of emotion, anxiety, and adrenaline when he's in my vicinity? It's extremely annoying to me.

I hate. HATE being a victim. Being vulnerable. When people can see me being vulnerable is the worst. I have wonderful friends that have been offering to swap abuse stories and support each other, and the idea of falling apart in public sounds horrifying. I'm working on that too. Thank goodness for my partner who is my rock when I need one...I can fall apart with him when I need to.

I think I react that way to ex because I'm afraid I will fall into my old patterns. My doormat tendencies. How can I be a strong, reliable, in charge, self confident person EXCEPT when I'm dealing with him? Is divorce the only way I can escape how I felt when he was around all the time, and make my life into something I can enjoy and be happy about again? Yes.

My lawyer told us she wished all of her divorce clients could be like us. It makes it so much easier. (For he and her.) Then ex told the story of our last day in court. (When my lawyer didn't show up. I blogged about it yesterday.) The bailiff was handing us our paperwork with the continuance date and he called ex's name, then called my name, looking all over the room except at me. Finally I waved my arms in the air and he blinked, having totally overlooked me, surprised that we were sitting right next to each other. (I'd prefer to have a seat between us because of my personal space issues with ex, but that's like playing the Personal Space game with him, which I also blogged about yesterday.)

I realize that I am extremely blessed. I know there are people who have struggled for years with battle after legal battle to finalize a divorce, many with men much more narcissistic than ex. Also, ex never physically abused me which is part of the reason why I never realized I was being abused. There have been studies that show that psychological abuse can be much more damaging than physical, and I'm not invalidating anyone who's been physically abused, by any means. I wouldn't ever wish that on anyone. It's horrifying. That still doesn't stop me from being aware that my struggle is valid and meaningful to me. See how I'm getting better already? I'm invalidating myself less and less.

After all this, he had some things he wanted to give me that he had in a paper bag in his car. One thing was socks that belong to Daughter. (He wants separate clothing at his house for she and Son. The clothes that are at my house aren't up to his standards and he sends "mine" back, expecting me to do the same with "his". I haven't. I let my children wear what they want as long as it's appropriate for school and the weather. When I told him that he and the kids were going to be in charge of what clothes went where, because I wasn't going to do it, he acknowledged that it's very controlling behavior. He still returns "my" clothing. Also in his paper bag was a recall notice for my car (Annoying that it went to his address - I've since changed that.), and school brochures. Daughter tested as a high achiever and he wants her switched to a school in the district where he lives. Ex doesn't feel our district is good enough for them.

He makes every. Little. Thing. Harder. Than. It. Needs. To. Be. EVERYTHING.

He brought me to tears when he started the school conversation. The commute time for me will be doubled, the kids will lose their friends, and Son's delicate self confidence and comfort level will be devastated as he tries to find his way in a totally foreign special education environment. Ex's argument? The schools in his district have a score of 9, which is really high compared to the 3 that my district has. Why? ( I taught elementary school and know some stuff.) Partly because of the diversity and income level of the school district. Schools with high numbers of ESL (English as a Second Language) students typically have lower test scores because they don't print the tests in other languages or have the resources to give ESL kids the modifications they need to take the test well. (As least to my knowledge, in the school districts where I worked.) The district where he lives has a large population of affluent people who are more able to find tutors, time to volunteer toward and boost their kid's educations. When I pointed this out to ex he said that the big bonus would be that they wouldn't be going to school with THAT population of kids that are bringing the test scores down. I was furious. Conversation over. Of all the elitist...*EDITED FOR THE DELICATE*...

He also asked me to have the kids write letters to Santa because he didn't get around to it and hadn't finished his Xmas shopping, though we agreed that the person who had them for that holiday (him last year) would take care of the whole Santa deal. Mom to the rescue again. He made this harder too. I could have said no, but that's not the ex wife I wanted to be at the time. I have since become stronger.

When I was driving away he called me. I don't take his calls in the car anymore unless I think he's running late to pick up the kids and I need to race to one of the schools. When I listened to the message he left me I was as outraged as I was the first time, second time, and third time he had brought up this subject with me: He reminded me that he wants me to tell my lawyer that in the divorce papers, he wants something that says that while I am living in the house we co-own, I agree to never let anyone move in with me. My lawyer said I don't have to agree to anything like that. It's not legal unless I write it down and sign it. Ex knows I am with my partner, and ex was bouncing back and forth between telling me he wants me to be happy and directing requests at me to reveal personal information to him about what we're doing and when we see each other, for which I've gotten good at giving him the Heisman. Now he doesn't mention my partner, ever. He has ceased to exit in ex's mind so therefore is not a cause of stress. He can pretend away now.

With all this aftermath, every kind of thought I had about him that afternoon flew out the window. I deleted the message, and went on to do something nice for myself on the way to pick up Daughter.

Also? I didn't let him hug me.

Edited for the Delicate

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.