We actually had court Oct 15th, a month ago. I never got around to writing about it. So after three counties, four addresses and paying for publication, he was never personally “served”. He’d call me and cuss me out for “sending the sheriffs out again.” So he knew he was being searched for and why.
It should be no shock that he didn’t show up. I am so thankful that we were the only ones in the courtroom. I was asked several questions “for the court”. One of which was “can you tell the court what names you would be called in front of the children.” It’s impossible to look a judge in the face while repeating “selfish bitch”, “judgemental bitch”, “cheating whore”, “fucking cunt”.
After all that added to the significant history of substance abuse, it was placed in the papers he is to have no visitation until he goes through the courts. That’s fine with me. Now I just have to find a way to explain to my daughter at various stages of her life why I felt it was best that it worked out that way. It’s also hard to know that one day she’ll be around him, he is afterall her dad and she’ll be curious one day. But more importantly when that happens, he won’t be glad to see his daughter, he’ll already be planning out how he can take advantage of her.
I think it was July or August when he started questioning my location at just the right moment. He made life hell one morning as I was leaving for work (I wrote about it awhile back). After finally falling apart, a co-worker told me to go downtown and talk to the magistrate. I discovered they aren’t open in my county on weekends. He showed up at my job, which is 40 minutes away and he had no car. It got to the point where I would leave the normal path home and he’d immediately start texting some shitty crap to me. Within minutes. It was obvious. I tried twice to go downtown and ask for help, both times the minute my tires left the interstate he was texting. I needed my car worked on and left, but didn’t go where I originally had planned to go. (it was still regarding my car) He started texting the minute my car left the city. I remember texting him on my way home once, he had actually gone off to god knows where for days. But the closer I got to the house, the more insistent he got in demanding I answer his texts quicker. Then it hit me “that fucker knows I’m almost home”!! Sure as hell, I could see the AC condensation on the driveway (most people would think that was crazy, but live in my world for a minute)
So just a few days ago someone was working on my car and found a box that was lit up. When I googled it; sure as shit! It was a GPS tracker. A few people have asked me if I feel “vindicated”. Well no, I quit caring if anyone believed me long ago. I did however feel like I was gonna throw up. What area of my life was only mine? ANY?!? And that has been there this whole time, a year later I find it. What am I going to find next? Cause we all know he’s not done with me. Not by a long shot.
I am weeks away from hitting that moment one year ago where he left in a blaze of glory. Why am I still on this fucking roller coaster? Why am I ok for weeks, long enough to think I’m ok, just to go all the back to square one?
I’m not ok. My children are not ok. And you know what sucks?!? Getting help for them NOW is just as hard as getting help for all of us was back then. WHY?
I also find out this week when exactly we go back to court. Four addresses and a month of newspaper ads just to get this sorry son of a bitch served. He dodged it for a year. Amazing. I looked at his Facebook page today……yeah, I know. Don’t do that. I’ll give you three guesses on the number of photos he has of his children or even any indication he ever had a life in this place………ZERO.
Yes, he looks happy with his new victim. But he also looks drunk and high. Some things never change. By the way, that is the same supply that messaged me a few months back. Just another human that sold her soul to the devil.
It seems as though I have people in my life that think I write this for them. Well, I don’t. I’ve been told stop writing everything and “move on”. Stop talking about it so much, it really just needs to be put in the past so you can “move on”. Yeah, what an asshole, you need to drop him and “move on”.
I have a crazy idea, how about shut up and let me grieve and hurt and “move on” at my own pace and just support me while I do. I didn’t realize I was on a time limit. I didn’t know that after 4 1/2 years, that a few months would be all I needed to just “move on”. And still……..nobody understands. Does anyone seem to get that he can smell my loneliness and desperation for interaction……and makes it that much harder for me to “move on”.? It only serves to further isolate ourselves. Do you want to know who I talk to MOST, my husband and his EX-wife!! <<<< how fucked up is this shit?!? The ex that he was telling all of our business to, the ex he tried to go back to more than once, including the month we started fertility treatments. The ex that he swore he only discussed their son most of the time, the ex that didn’t bother to tell me any of this. He created the perfect triangulation and she was a willing, although unknowing perfect flying monkey. And THIS is who I talk to most because I have her son. And him because well, he’s my husband, and I don’t have a plethora of people on speed dial. I’m kinda pissed off that everyone has the nerve to tell me to “move on”. Is this when I am given the proper time allotment? I need to know. This is my first split from a sociopathic, manipulative, lying, asshole. I’ll know the rules better next time.
I still go through spells where I can leave and then spells where I can’t leave these walls. He mocks me, tells me I don’t have anxiety or PTSD; cause I was just as abusive. It “went both ways”. And here I am again……..almost the same nightmare, but at least it’s not all the time, right? And here I go, questioning if I’m the crazy one. I call him out on lies and he makes the million dollar “you’re a nutcase” speech to convince me that what I’m seeing is wrong.
It’s cool. When one of the “experts” finds some spare time, they can fill me in on the rules. And then I guess I’ll easily glide right into “moving on”.
Just listen to what I try to say. I can’t put into words what it is that I’ve gone through or continue to go through with him. I’m tired of the typical garden variety answers and “suggestions”. Everything you say to me is truly “NO SHIT!!” in my head. That doesn’t change what is the reality. I think it’s that part that isolates “us” even more. Why bother going out into the world? Why bother trying to talk to our friends or family?
Because nobody listens anyway.
How many will I have to have before I can no longer number them? I don’t want to find out. So #2, it was through text, he made a comment about spanking me. Yes, it was in a sexual connotation. No, I really didn’t give a shit. Until I realized he was dead serious. And I said you actually want to hurt me. His reply basically in a nutshell; I was a mean bitch and deserved it, and spanking my ass to the point where I “wouldn’t forget it for a few days” was turning him on. 😳 I even clarified AGAIN “you actually WANT to hurt me?” Yep. << that was his reply.
Next thing I knew I was curled up on the kitchen floor barely able to catch my breath thrown back to a scene that happened one morning months ago. I described what we were wearing and how I felt. All I wanted to do was get out of the room. But he would stand in front of me and tell me “I’m not stopping you from walking out”. And he’d just keep on and on about how I had to talk to him….when I would get nervous I’d get mocked. “There’s no camera here. You can stop pretending like you’re gonna win an Emmy”. All I wanted to do was get out. Why I was triggered back to THAT memory I have no idea. There were so many of those moments. Wanting to run, but not being able to move. It took about 45 minutes and Valium to make it stop.
Does this just get worse with time? Just one little thing and a whole cascade of events happen in my head and it won’t stop. From the outside it sounds crazy.
I asked him once (within the last month) why has he never hit me……..his reply? Because I don’t like jail.
This morning it dawned on me that this is like living on the coast where you get a hurricane every damn day. At first you board everything up and make sure everyone and everything is safe. And then bam, it gets knocked down. So you fix it all back close to what it was, and then bam, it gets knocked down again. Next time you figure I’ll just make sure the windows and doors are secure, and bam they get knocked down. Ok fine, I just don’t want glass everywhere……and bam, it breaks anyway. Eventually you get smart enough to say “fuck it!” I’m getting out of here!
Except “out of here” doesn’t mean what you think it means. It means you have zero energy for building walls, so you just start to vacate yourself. And then you’re not even here anymore. My presence is just what you see. I am never where you see me. I don’t know where I go. If everyone knew just how detached and vacant I was, they wouldn’t bother talking to me…….and I probably wouldn’t really care.
I keep hearing, it’s time to start healing. HOW?!? I don’t know how! My rational thought process is gone, that’s what he was for. I can’t feel anything because the person that told me how to feel and if it was right or wrong is gone. My “gut feeling” is gone….because I learned to rely on him to tell me what it was. I don’t know who I am, the person who told me is gone. He told me who I was everyday. One day I was this wonderful beautiful, smart amazing wife…..and the next day I was a selfish, judgemental, self-righteous bitch. And then the next i could be a cheating, sneaky, secretive, vile human.
Who am I today? There’s no one here to tell me anymore.