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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.

I Edited My Caveat And Thank You

  (I realize I already used this picture, but I wanted it here too.)

It was time to make some edits to my Caveat and Thank You at the bottom of this blog page. As I learn and grow, I've found that some of what I had written in the posts makes me wince. Some of it due to the amazement at how far I've come, and some due to the venom and anger that fueled my fear and anxiety. 

A coworker told me this week that she has seen how far I have come, and congratulated me. I was surprised because I don't always remember exactly how it felt back when I was trying to decide whether or not to get divorced. Every so often I go back and read some of my posts to remember and appreciate my growth and healing.

I think it's important to keep everything in perspective, particularly to be aware of how much better I feel, and how much happier I am.

The mention of my diagnosis in the Thank You seemed important to write, as it was brought to mind this morning when I was talking with a loved one about her pain, and my trying to support her without knowing exactly what's going on. 

She is loyal and strong, and I have always admired and strove to emulate her.

This week, if nothing else, please let the people you love know how much you care about them. It's vital, and might help them along their own path. I was trying to express this to her.

For my sister-in-law, I say:

"To all of the wonderful people throughout the years who have been kind and patient with me as I have navigated my self toward this independence. To the rediscovery of me. Please know that I was/am navigating an emotional minefield of divorce and abuse in the best way I knew how including anxiety, depression, and hypervigilance, and it was not my intention to hurt anyone. I burned some bridges and lost some important relationships along the way. My diagnoses have had their way with me, but in no way define me any longer."

And also, I love you. I support you. And I am here for you, always. Not just because of the family relationship we've had, but because your heart is as big as the kindness you have always shown me.

Thank you.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Being Dicks

While my son and I were Christmas shopping he turned to me and asked, "When are we leaving for (town where ex in laws live)?" The ex took the kids to his mother's house last holiday season.

"The 22nd. You're driving with dad.", I said.

He then asked me, "Why aren't you coming?"

I told him, "I was uninvited."

My ex mother in law generously told me (via email, because she was 'too emotional' to talk to me on the phone, she said) I'd always be welcome in her home, despite the pain I caused by serving divorce papers to her son. (Which was her offhanded way of saying I could come to her house for Xmas with my kids last year. She didn't actually say the bit about me causing her pain, but I know she was hurt. We were all hurting.)

I thought I WAS welcome.

That lasted about a month. After I'd bought his whole family Xmas presents and an airline ticket to get myself there (so I wouldn't have to ride 9 hours in a car with ex, one way) she decided that the mere sight of me would be too painful to bear. Not to mention the opinions of my illustrious brother in law and sister in law, who had apparently decided I was the Antichrist because I started speaking my mind, finally.

When ex 'asked' me to consider not coming to his mother's house for Xmas in a late night email, so that people's 'feelings wouldn't be ignored', and that he'd 'always protect me but please consider his request', I was hurt, and told him to tell the kids himself why I wasn't coming. He didn't, of course. I've been cleaning up his emotional messes for 21 years. Why should I stop now? I'm skilled at it.

I watched the gears turns in my son's head a few seconds, bracing myself. "Why?", he asked, a pained look on his face.

"Dad thinks his family will be uncomfortable if I'm there, so they all decided I shouldn't go."

"Your own family?!", he asked, incredulous.

I nodded, swallowing a lump, "Sometimes when people get divorced, families take sides."

I valiantly struggled not to remind him that his dad came over for dessert at our house after Thanksgiving dinner (Ex's choice. He was invited to dinner.) with my family, dressed like Santa with a pimp hat, and made hot apple pie drinks for everyone. We're all still trying to fathom THAT one.

The part that makes me the most crazy is that I felt I was throwing myself to the lions. I was bracing myself, trying to figure out how to be kind, loving and graceful while I visited. I was willing to brave the lions because when I asked my children where they wanted me at Xmas, they said they wanted me where they were. So I bought the plane ticket. Apparently the wishes of the drama queens greatly outweigh the wishes of the children whose parents are getting divorced. Being rejected by people you love hurts even when you are trying to understand why they're doing it.

To be honest, I was relieved I wasn't going. I was having anxiety attacks thinking about it. But it broke my heart that it was the first Xmas I'd ever spent without my children. I tried to remember that it's just a day and that now I have a chance to make new memories and holiday traditions that will be a better fit for us.

"Sorry to say this mom, but they're being dicks.", said my sensitive, first born son.

As I looked into his beautiful blue eyes, watching me warily to see if I was going to reprimand him, I smiled because I know that whatever happens we love each other, that he knows that I am his biggest fan and advocate, and I will always be honest with him, just like he is with me.