His Meds, My Meds, Everywhere a Med-Med

I am pooped! I've been busy.

Son’s latest psych appt went well. We upped the dose of his ADHD med for school. It’s been long overdue because Ex forgot to talk to his psych about it when Son was there last time telling her he was seeing things and hearing things.

Sigh.

She also prescribed generic Tenex, which is supposed to help him manage his rage. It’s supposed to give him some space to think about what he does before he slams the fridge, or throws a remote, throws his sister on the floor, or shoves me out of the way when I put myself between them. (It doesn’t happen often, but it happens.) Tenex is supposed to work well with ADHD reactivity/impulsivity and doesn’t require blood work regularly. He objected to that, which I’m glad. This is supposed to be the safest option for helping manage himself. And we’ll start it after he comes back from his spring break trip with Ex and his family (they’re going Saturday) because then I can be in charge of the titration up and it may make him groggy the first two days. I don’t want him reacting to a new medication out of my sight while he’s traveling with Ex…plus I’m torn about it.

I am torn about this because I’ve found in the past that I’m torn when he needs it but I don’t want to accept that he does…I don’t want him to have to need it. I did the same thing when he started taking his depression med, and when he started taking his ADHD med. Is it sibling rivalry or is it impulse control? Both?

Poor Son started to tip over at the psych appt yesterday: shutting down, laying down on the couch. I asked the psych to slow down (she was talking a mile a minute) and I would turn to interpret to Son what she was saying because I could tell it was too much, too fast, and he couldn’t follow what she was saying. I told him I wasn’t going to tell him he had to take anything, but that he could choose. He chose the med that didn’t require blood work and said he would try it.

I was reminded yesterday that kids with ADHD tend to lag behind about three years in brain development…so essentially Son and Daughter are in the same place. He’s a little kid with issues in a big body and jeebus, will there ever be a time when I don’t have to worry and fight and cajole and discuss? We have a meeting at school for the school to tell us what our options are since they were not able to uphold the IEP and the school was TOO HARD FOR HIM! 

Remember when I was reluctant to move him? Another great idea from Ex.

And med check for me, yes…my doc, after she gave me an online test asking if I was sleeping or had suicidal thoughts – yes and no – that doesn’t freaking mean I don’t need help - told me I didn’t qualify for more help. Which in Kaiser Speak means they save the few spots they have for people who seem to be needier. I sent her back an email talking about the emotional abuse and anxiety and Son and Partner and his Kids (good stuff that I want to talk about) and Daughter and my diet and blah. My doc asked the therapist I didn’t like (the one I stopped going to see – she wasn’t listening to me…she was planning things for me) call me and tell me I should contact WEAVE because they do individual and group counseling regarding emotional abuse (and that’s why Kaiser doesn’t – I call bullshit) and to confirm the transfer to another counselor for one on one, I think, and that there is a emotion regulation group I might be able to go to at Kaiser. So I may go to a walk in “triage” at WEAVE and tell them about my situation and see what they recommend after I find out what Kaiser is going to do.

I don’t want to sit in a group of physically abused women because it triggers me into thoughts of “they need help more than I do and I’m ok so I don’t need to be here”. And it's brutal, but if I'm going to sob in front of strangers, I want to sob to work through my own crap instead of at other people's stories. I can't even watch movies or tv about it without falling apart.

I AM ok, I just want to talk an impartial party who will hear about my struggles with Son and the aftermath of the emotional and verbal abuse I suffered, why the hell I jump out of my skin every time I hear a loud noise, and our blended family wonderfulness and the complications and everything.

*deep breath*

I actually woke up this morning feeling better than I have in a long, long time. More in control and feeling happy. Part of it is that Partner is coming over tonight. The other part of it is that Son has been really great lately. I mean he’s Son and still tells me he’s not emptying the dishwasher when I ask and when I get him to, he bangs his elbow then yells FUCK IT and crawls back into his cave, with the dishwasher still full…but he has been hearing me when I ask him not to do something or when I talk to him. He’s been good with Daughter too, though the sibling stuff still happens.

So much work. How on earth can my PCP tell me I don’t get to receive services? After my email rant I got the phone call…

Anyway…my brain is all fuddled and part of it is that another thing that’s happened to me lately is I’ve started to care more about things, like my job. I was seriously lagging at work, getting things done slowly, putting out fires I could have avoided. Part of the depression where you just don’t care that much about some things. I would spend my time daydreaming about another job when I wasn’t doing the one I have well. I’m stepping back up again and working harder, sleeping more, eating better, and doing little things for myself life a monthly massage and coloring my hair, eating sushi with Partner.

They stretch the budget but they reward me and make me feel happy.

Phew. I never really know what I’m going to say until I start typing and it all falls out all over the place. Thanks for listening.

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

Son Abusing Me?

Hard day yesterday.

I read an article about kids abusing their parents and started a hard talk with Ex and Son's therapist. Son is verbally and emotionally abusive, and borderline physically abusive to Daughter and I. Ex and I were talking about switching the custody time around so he had them Mon-Thurs and I have them Fri-Sun, except one weekend a month. With flexibility for plans and trips, etc. Ex said he was willing to manage the bulk of the homework and scheduling so Son can't fight with me about it.

I feel ashamed that I can't manage my kid and that he bullies me.

I'm going to start going to a group with a friend and coworker next week for parents who are codependent with their kids Thursday nights.

And I have a phone meeting with Son's therapist today at 1230.

We would have the regular schedule for summer time, then we decided not to change the schedule. We worry that it might make things worse. It makes Ex the bad guy and I see the kids less.

Mostly we decided against the schedule because Ex realized how much extra work he'd have...I was ready to totally rearrange my life and schedule - but both kids were so upset about the change we read them the riot act then moved on with our day.
It did go better last night at my house...a little smoother. Everyone was being careful and mindful, including me.

I don't know what the answer is. We all had a come to Jesus talk and hopefully we got through to them. Daughter's been lying to me too. Very disappointing.

Ex said he's worried that Son is on the border of becoming a delinquent...I agree. He's skipped 7 classes (the same class) and is failing PE because he doesn't change into PE clothes, get this: because he doesn't want to run before he lifts weights.

...

Seriously. Who wants to run? But wow, he's willing to take grief from his teachers and his parents just so he doesn't have to deal with things he doesn't like.

His view of the future is so skewed...I'm lost.

Hopefully the phone call with his therapist today will enlighten me.

Narcissistic Victim Syndrome

 :)

A new link I'm putting in the sidebar on the blog...found it in a new group in Facebook. See it here.

Have a great weekend!

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.

"His Dark Words Took Up Residence Inside My Head"

 (My New Year Resolution)

This post is a little bit cheaty, but hey - it's my blog and I have lots to say today...third post I've written! (I spread them out so as not to overwhelm you with my fabulousness.)

I read this today and it moved me, as I always am when I read about an experience similar to mine. Interestingly it did not trigger me, as such things used to. I must be healing!

Woohoo!

I gave Ex a lot of power over me in the past and it's fascinating to note that even though I OWE THE IRS $2,500, it feels ok because I am rid of him taxwise and never have to deal with his tax bullshit again.

Did I say Woohoo?!

Anyway, enjoy the article. I hope that someday we will all are free of being triggered by our Exes.

Thanks for listening.

I Now Owe The IRS $2,500 Because Ex Fucked Up His W-2

(What I say to myself when I start to worry about other people's stuff too much -
Alternative title to this pic is 'Snowy Jones' Exorcism Wasn't Going Smoothly')

 
The title says it all.

Outside the nut shell:

Ex and I have written in the divorce settlement that we would file joint taxes last year. We verbally agreed that I would take care of the taxes and when I needed his W-2 and other papers, he ignored me, and ignored me, and ignored me, so I went ahead and filed as head of household because I was pissed (and more than a little stressed, anxiety ridden, and confused about what the hell was actually in our divorce settlement...sue me) and received about $300 back. I claimed the entirety of the house credit because I was living there and paying the mortgage.

Well, he wasn't too pleased about that. Especially when he discovered that he owed $3,000. He spend the next year, off and on, trying to talk me into amending my taxes to jointly file the tax return and I ignored him until he threatened me Monday night.

This pissed me off for a number of reasons:

1 - I wanted to get it done and to the IRS before the deadline and he ignored me.

2- He sent me multiple emails in a 48 hour period about it with emotional threats and claiming he's been DOING THE RIGHT THING for the last 15 months, including moving out of the house so I could live in HIS HOUSE with cheaper rent (mortgage) than he is now paying.

3 - The night he sent the email that broke the camel's back, I was three drinks into a comfy little evening I had planned for myself to make some soup and watch Netflix alone. Precious alone time to recharge my batteries.

I lost my shit.

Whilst three sheets to the wind (don't judge - I am an adult and was alone that evening - and not depressed - Woo!) I prepared a fiery, cuss word filled email on my phone that I was busily editing (even whilst loopy I am a stickler to say precisely what I want to say in exactly the correct way to express myself accurately) when it disappeared.

...

CRAP!!!

Did I send it unfinished? No. Did it disappear off the face of the CLOUD? Yes.

FUCKERY!!

I sighed heavily, very frustrated, and started to write another response, this time wisely choosing my less tipsy response in a kinder way, realizing that sending those kinds of emails to Ex has never, ever benefited me or anyone else. I edited carefully and sent it calmly.

Never heard back.

Holy crap. Did he hear me and I stopped him in his tracks? Did he not see it yet? Either way, I went to bed anxiety ridden awaiting the fateful *scary breath sounds* that would alert me that he had responded.

Nothing at all.

The next day at work, clearheaded, I contacted my accountant and set into motion the process of amending my taxes. She did it, BAM, in less than 24 hours. Done, and awaiting his signature. This was big considering I've spent the last 20 years waiting for him to do our taxes and him filing extensions. (Which he also did again last year.)

You may know about how willing he is to sign things by some of my past posts, so I am trying to breathe deeply and be patient. Remember, his signing these papers makes him liable for only half of what he owes filing by himself so it's in his best interest. I am hoping to pick up the paperwork when I go by today to pick up Son for some mother-son bonding time tonight.

Below I have copied and pasted the emails. Guess what? The email didn't disappear. It went into the DRAFT folder I can't access through my phone.

Thank the tiny baby jesus that I didn't send it.

Just goes to show you what a bad combination booze, anger, and nasty emails from Ex are for me. And probably everyone.

Incidentally, he apologized for the nasty emails. I think it was a combination of my reminding him about what THE RIGHT THING actually is, and the fact that he thought I received $3,000 FROM the IRS last year that he OWED because I didn't file jointly with him. Welp. That's what you get when you don't ask.

ASS.

Anyhoo, the emails:

The One I Sent:

"Brace yourself. I'm about to say some things that will make you upset.

Do not threaten me with court. Never threaten me again. Never, ever again talk to me about your version of the right thing. I know things about you that would horrify everyone who thinks you're an upstanding man and citizen. The right thing my ass. I know a lot of things about you that other people don't. So think back to all those things I know about you and reconsider the way you speak to me from now on. No one ever made me feel as small and ashamed of myself and belittled as I did in what you talked me into doing for you in the twenty years you should have been treating me like a precious, loved woman deserving of respect.

Now. I'll discuss taxes with you when I'm good and fucking ready to do it and not because you want to fill your wallet with money I don't have and could spend on your children.

You have no hold over me anymore, so if you want something from me you will ask nicely without trying to manipulate my emotions and praising your Perfect Ex Husband act.

If you truly want to get along with me and show the kids how you should treat their mother, treat me the same way when they're not listening. You can't be my friend if you smile in my face when we see each other when other people are looking then make threats and try to manipulate my emotions when they're not.

Don't talk to me about what's right."

The Email I Didn't Send:

"I'm tired of your Perfect Ex Husband bullying and posturing. I'm tired of you pretending to want to be friends and that everything is ok then sending me passive aggressive bullying emails so that you can continue to have some semblance of control over me and to squeeze every last drop of blood out of every penny you can get your hands on. You make more than me. You claim to be doing the right thing and that you're doing it for the kids, but really you're trying to scare me into giving you money I don't have, money that I could use to spend on your children, trying to get me to comply by threatening me with taking me to court. I've offered to compensate you for the money that we verbally agreed on. I'm no longer interested in your self aggrandizing claims to be doing the right thing. Who is this right thing for? Who does it benefit? You. Just like it always has. Well I hope that you and your money will be very happy together. You're forgetting that I also own the house. The paltry money you pay me is barely grocery money for your children's food when they're here. I work for a non profit with no hope of a raise or moving up. Never again mention to me that you're doing the right thing. Because the right thing would have been to refrain from coercing your wife into sex acts she didn't want to do with drunk men. That is sexual abuse. The right thing would have been to let your wife show you love and sexual attention without requiring she act and talk like a whore. The right thing would have been going to bed with her at night instead of staying up all night looking at porn on the computer, making me feel unwanted and unloved. The right thing would have been showing your children how a woman should be treated instead of treating her like a second class citizen who didn't have a mind of her own or any personal freedom. The right thing would have been to refrain from spitting food onto your plate with disgust in front of your children after your wife worked eight hours then came home and cooked for you. That is emotional abuse. The right thing would have been to not criticize your wife for her weight, taste in clothes, her friends, how she folded laundry, how she loaded the dishwasher, the jokes she thought were funny, and what she wanted to eat just to list a few of the things that made me feel so very small and insignificant that I now have anxiety attacks when you send me a text or an email. The right thing would have been to ask me if I was ok instead of accusing me of acting when I was doubled over on the bed with excruciating pain from a gallbladder attack. The right thing would not have been so fucking drunk that you knocked your goddamned front tooth out falling on a chair, then when I needed to have a tooth I had to get a fucking bridge because it was too expensive for my mouth. I hope you're enjoying your expensive implant. The right thing would have been to treat me with tenderness and kindness instead of constantly trying to control and manipulate every micromanaged aspect of our life into what you thought it should be. The right way. The only way. The right thing would have been to show your son how to be a man without verbally abusing me for twenty years. So don't you dare, ever fucking talk to me about what the right thing is. Ever. Again. You'll get your godforsaken fucking money, and you'll also get what you deserve for every little thing you put out into the universe. And I'll get out from under this fucking albatross of a house you claim to have so generously allowed me to stay in when it's a fucking ball and chain prison you stick me with that connects me to you. Don't you ever threaten me again. Think about what your family would say if they knew all the things about you that I do. I only hope that you treat our daughter better than you treated me so she has the self respect to find someone who treats her better than you did me. Leave me the fuck alone to live my life in peace with people that know something about respect, kindness and love."

(remember I was tiddly)

As I said before, thank the tiny baby jesus vishnu and everyone else who might be listening to my karma that

I didn't send this email. And I never will. I would never say horrible things to his family. What an awful person I would be. (Just anonymously via the internet - hope it doesn't count against my karma.)

Note to self: Along with my monthly alert sent to myself via my iPeriod app that reminds me about when my period is coming that says, "Do not engage ex or listen to anxiety ridden thoughts.", I will add, "Do not drink and respond to any email or text or person until sober again."

Incidentally, as I mentioned in the title, Ex screwed up his W-2 and will owe again this year. But this year it's Not Mine.

Thanks for listening.

I'm Happy, Dammit

I choose to be happy and to give as much as I'm able. There are some who tease me for being an optimist in every situation, and I believe, look down on me because of it. I once joked to Partner's Ex about picking up my dog's poop while walking in the park: "It keeps your hands warm when it's cold!" (Through a poop bag. I have teenagers. Nothing grosses me out anymore.) My playa name is 'The Good Witch Lollipop'. (Given to me by Partner.) 

I'd like to thank my good friend (he knows who he is), for making me believe that my laugh is shiny and wonderful.

Being positive can be emotionally exhausting, particularly when someone doesn't really SEE me. Even when I feel I've tied a knot and am hanging on to the end...it keeps me from falling into a pit of despair. 

I hate that damned pit.

I have been struggling the last few days. In response to my difficulty, I have sent an email to Partner's Ex, trying to share my deep feelings with her to see if I can deepen our relationship as well as let her know that I feel hurt. It's past time that she really see me. I'm not sure what she thinks I've been doing the last 2.5 years (falling in love with her children and deeper into it with Partner, and coming to respect and like her...dare I say love?).

I left her a voicemail once in response to something she asked me a while back, because she didn't pick up. When I saw her next, she told me she didn't listen to the whole thing because it was too long. Insulting. Power play? Maybe. I feel she has ingrained behavior that she sees differently than I do. What I see as insulting may be just her way of living her life the best way she knows how. I try to take it all with a grain of salt and move on, not worrying about it.

This is what I wrote to her, edited to protect:

"At the 'Event' I was going to read a speech I had written, because I'm afraid of public speaking. I chickened out and went BLARGH instead. I would like you to read this, if you will, because I express myself better in writing, and when I get emotional I tend to fall apart.

I'm aware that when some people look at me they see a shy, fat, stupid blond, with big boobs and not much else, and the worst mistake people usually make is underestimating my intelligence, strength, and resilience. It's easy to write me off if you don't see me. I would prefer that people look past the outside to see the empathic, loving, liberal, good witch, earth mother that I am.

I want you to see me.

It is beyond humiliating for me to try to express deep feelings then burst into tears, or to have an anxiety attack trying to say what I feel I need to say out loud. I put on a mask of calm, aloof, control and then process later in private. It's self defense when I am in situations that make me uncomfortable. It's also amusing that sometimes it pisses people off when they're angry at me.

I did not walk into your life causally without being fully aware of what I was getting into, and I have done my damnedest to be the best part of it that I can be. I do not take the responsibility of being a part of it, in particular (her and Partner's) 'daughter' and 'son', lightly, and I do not take for granted the fact that my presence may be extremely difficult for you at times.

I think it's past time that you and I have some deeper conversation, and for me to let you know that I am afraid of and don't feel safe with you. I am not saying that you did anything to make me feel that way. My family visiting me over Xmas reminded me of why I react the way I do in certain situations and why I have typically picked partners and others in my life who abuse me. I am working to trust easily, but I fear it's a long road.

The Speech:

'I would like to give thanks. I wrote this because this is how I express myself well, and public speaking is terrifying.

This year has been one of the hardest of my life. It has also been one of the most wonderful. I am finally free of my 20 year abusive marriage and have forgiven myself for staying in it so long. I regained the space I needed to be myself and to live the way I want, without fear. I am shedding the pain and anxiety that ruled my life, and am able to be fully present with my kids, with Partner, and with his and Partner's Ex's kids. I’d like to start calling (Partner's Ex and Partner's) daughter and son my Second Kids, if that’s ok with them. Between us there are four children, two houses, three dogs, one rabbit, one guinea pig, and one rat. We are a big, commingling family. I am happier now than I have ever been.

I want to thank Partner's Ex for welcoming me into her life and her home, and trusting me with her children. If she hadn't, I wouldn't be able to spend as much time up here with the people I love. I appreciate her.

When I first popped up in Second Son's life he asked me to stop teasing him, so I backed off and gave him space. I want to thank him because when he duels me with light sabers then cuddles up with me, calling me ‘Second Mom’, my heart melts.

I gave Second Daughter space from the beginning, because she’s an altogether different soul. I want to thank Second Daughter for finally grabbing my arm and dragging me into her world, trusting me enough to tell me how to dress, and for sharing herself with me.

I want to thank Friend, Friend, Friend's Daughter, and Friend's Son (some of the most wonderful people I've ever met) for including me in their circle, because their friendship has helped me open my heart again and re-learn to trust. Spending time in this safe place and being able to meet you all has helped me change my life.

My Son isn’t here this year because he's even more introverted than I am. He feels more comfortable in small groups and with familiarity. I want to thank him for teaching me that our love for each other is not always enough to keep from making each other crazy, unless you mix it with patience, humor, honesty, and trust. He feels safe enough to fight with me, his physical comedy makes me belly laugh, and he trusts me enough to ask me questions that make his conservative father's hair stand on end. His home with me is his safe place. We have been through the ringer together, and for him and the life lessons he has taught me, I am grateful.

I want to thank Daughter for lighting up my life. She snuggles with me, acts goofy to make me laugh, and hugs me when I need to be soothed. She works hard to be patient with the attention her brother often needs, and I want her to understand that I hear her, and I am trying hard to make sure she knows I love and appreciate her. Seeing such sensitivity and wacky humor all rolled up into one bouncing young woman reminds me of the person I used to be - the person I have fought so hard this year to become again. She is my best girlfriend, she is braver and smarter than I ever was at her age, and I love her to the moon and back.

I can’t express how deeply I feel about Partner. I spent most of the first year of our relationship baffled. I have never been treated the way he treats me. He has shown me unconditional love and trust. He plays with me, cooks for me, does housework, works hard at whatever task is at hand, he hears me, and he is attentive to my needs. He even remembers what I say. He is a role model for kindness and friendship. I have never been loved this deeply before or felt so comfortable being myself. When I showed him the real me he responded in kind with more charm, affection, and selflessness than I have ever been given. He is my Amorous Compatible, and I love him from the depths of my heart. I look forward to spending the rest of my life with him.

Thank you all for hearing me."

I know you're going through some tough feelings right now and that I have a part in that.

I want you to know that I hear you, and that I'm sorry you feel hurt.

I also want you to know that I am feeling hurt by the backlash of yours. (She reacted deeply, and with difficulty to Partner telling our room full of friends that I am the love of his life. Her response has been to make his life more difficult, and to request that I stay away from their home for 'a while', so she can recover from the apparent insult. He has gritted his teeth and apologized for hurting her feelings, pointing out that this is how he feels, to keep the peace.) I feel hurt and left out, much like I did in the beginning when my relationship with Partner was more secretive about who I was, and I'm scared because I used to worry a lot about you being able to keep me from seeing Partner and your kids. 

Now I see that happening.

I also know that how I feel will eventually blow over, and hopefully you will be able to process your hurt too, but I also know that you're more in control of the situation than I am, and I feel like I'm being punished. I don't feel I did anything wrong, nor do I feel Partner did anything wrong, and my anger and frustration about the situation makes me cry.

I feel my welcome extended by you has been revoked. I know that I have given you the power to make me feel this way, and that makes me more upset. I don't want to add to your stress. I just want to be able to see your children, who I have come to love deeply, and Partner when we are able to make it happen with all of our busy schedules.

I have tried hard to stay out of your way and to be unobtrusive, to help as much as I can when I'm at your house to earn my keep and help things go smoothly, when I am emotionally able to. I have been uncomfortable sometimes, but the love and support I felt made me think it was just me making up things to worry about. Our situation is unique, and I was proud of it; proud to be part of it until I felt shunned.

That being said, I am feeling extra sensitive right now and am usually able to be stoic and stay out of it until things blow over. When it directly affects the people that I love, including you, I can't stay out or silent for long.

My hope is that opening this communication line between us will help make sure that we are all emotionally taken care of, particularly our children, in the future.

We don't need to discuss this or ever talk about it at all if you prefer not to. But know that I may write another note in the future if I have more deep feelings I want to share with you.

I hope your work party tonight goes well (that I could not join because she would be 'uncomfortable' - this is where the real hurt started) and that you have a good time, and that you enjoy your time away this weekend.

With love and light,

Me"

The end result is that today I am going up to their house to spend the weekend because she's going to be gone. I don't know how this will play out, but I will say that I am busy making plans to get myself closer to them and not too far from Kid's schools so this won't be as much of an issue. Living closer has been a dream of mine since I met Partner, and it's time I take more control of my life and make it happen.

Ex and I have talked briefly and with agreement about wanting to sell the house I live in that we co-own. We are getting along well now and hopefully we can make this happen with a minimum of difficulty.

We'll see.

The report? OH! That.

Well, I was overdrawn on my account because the child support check came a week late due to, apparently, the “system being down”. (Ex's HR dept takes it from his paycheck, sends it to the child support people, who then send a check to me, that I’ve been unsuccessfully trying to get to auto deposit in my new account at for a month.) So, lesson learned: Do not budget depending on that check. CHECK. (fuckers)

I have a GIANT credit card debt that I have transferred all of the money to, with the lowest interest rate. Let’s just say I’m at the limit. I haven’t had credit card debt in 20 years. I attribute it to one income, panicky charges early in my separation process thinking I would pay them off as I go, and charges where I HAD to use it because I was learning to budget again and needed gas or food, along with impulse buys. Aside from the fuckery with my child support check this last week, I’ve been doing pretty well. I don’t get my nails done anymore, don’t get my hair colored anymore, I don’t fill my pantry and fridge with food, I just buy as I need it. I don’t shop at malls or department stores anymore, or expensive grocery stores. I don’t use the organic veggie delivery anymore. Basically, I use my money for Netflix, pets, gas, food, and an occasional kid need or treat. Or an occasional treat for myself and Partner when I can, much cheaper than the treats I used to buy myself. And the tail end of my lawyer bill. Oh, and yesterday I lowered my family plan phone payment, and I'm cutting the cable (I don't watch it) in November when the contract is up.

It was hard to get to the point where I know I don’t need very much to be happy. Money ain’t making me happy. I’m looking to my family and Partner and our kids for happy, as well as burning man, and starting to crochet and sew again. Reading novels again. Watching the movies I want to see when I’m alone. Stopping everything I’m doing and looking at and sitting next to Kids, Partner and his Kids, and my friends, giving them my full attention when they’re with me. Spending time with the dogs cuddling (except this week because I’m hormonal and that’s the only time they irritate me. This may be why I engaged Ex in a discussion when I know better. I’ve put a note on my calendar for next month about my period, with the note: DO NOT ENGAGE EX.)

I may outsmart myself.

Also, I scheduled a week of appointments at work this week when the PA was out of town. They told me about it in May, in an email. Seriously, please don’t depend on me to do anything when I’m having a midlife crisis. Last May…never mind. You all know.

The battery powered fan I ordered for our bm (for future reference: bm means Burning Man, not poop) tent was delivered yesterday, then promptly stolen from the front desk area at work (more fuckers - explainable since I work in the mental health industry) before it got to me.

Also, Ex is a nincompoop as I’ve been getting calls from the kids saying they don’t have lunch at school, or they’re going to be kicked out by Friday if they don’t get their shot records to the nurse. I asked Ex if the school knows Son has a learning disability and did they put him in special education for his core classes. His response? “I have no idea.” Stuff I’ve been scrambling to take care of because I left everything school related up to him to organized for the first time in the children’s lives. And this year they are both in brand new schools. It’s made me feel angry and resentful, and melancholy about not being there to help them on the big first day of school Monday. When I tried to, gently and kindly, talk to Ex about being sensitive to Son and take care of things like I would try to do with Kids (I didn’t say it that way. That would be just asking for trouble.) he got offended and told me I never had a father figure so don’t accuse him of being a bad father, and that if we wanted to be friends I needed to back off because he’s a good dad and I should know that. I reminded him that Son has a learning disability and a mental health diagnosis and that we need to take care in how we talk to him and guide him, just as the counselors have told us since Son was 6. Ex accused me of “putting labels” on Son and that he, Ex, doesn’t do that. 

Blah-de-blah-de-blah. Same 'ole shite.

Ex got a son with special needs instead of the son that he wanted, and I think he’s still in denial. The same argument we’ve been having for 15 years. I know better than to argue with him, it kills me that I can’t protect them from him and really, I may not need to. I just hope he’s a better father now than he was when we were married.

Ex has been peppering me with texts, day and night, all week, with everything from how I should run my house to the better benefit of Kids this school year to where I should drop Son off when I take him to school next week because it’s the best option. He’s driving me up the fucking wall.

But mixed in have been lovely moments like the bat walk tour I went on with Partner, his Daughter, and Son, Monday night, and heart-melting moments when they told me they see me as their second mom. Also, seeing a girlfriend briefly last night when I went over to load my bm stuff into another friend's truck, and Kids calling me randomly last night at 10:30pm to ask me what my middle name was (apparently there was some debate) and making me laugh.

So it hasn’t been a total loss, just a mix. And I handled it all well, mixed with expletives, and occasional grumpy behavior. I am still happy. (Plus the check came yesterday just in time for my needed tank of gas, and my new checking account mobile deposits it instantly, unlike the old one - that rhymes with Bells Dargo - who holds it for 2 days. Fuckers.)

Hey, guess what? I talked with my doctor, and she agreed that it’s ok for me to not refill my Prozac, and that my dose was so low I don’t need to titrate down. My last pill will be taken next Tuesday night…

I leave for bm a week from Sunday. I think vacation with friends and the love of my life is a good idea right after stopping an antidepressant, so that works out well.

Thanks for reading.

YEAH.

(There you have it.)

It's Not Just Me

"LONDON — The photographs of the art dealer Charles Saatchi with his hands around the neck of his wife, the celebrity chef Nigella Lawson, look as startling now as when they were published last month. But what has happened since has been, in its way, equally unsettling."

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.

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!

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!

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.