a letter to my mother-in-law

 mother-in-law, 

i found the note you so cleverly concealed amongst the coloring pages for the kids. it was so delightful to see you again took the time to find an article written by someone we both respect due to our shared faith and use it to try to make me feel shame and guilt for finally choosing to stand up for myself against your son. 

i agree that contention is "of the devil" and that i should try to be patient and charitable toward othes. yes, it's my choice to feel anger at things, but even Jesus showed some righteous anger in the scriptures. also, you're also assuming that i'm angry. i'm not angry. i went far past angry more than 5 years ago. i am done.

i know you don't want to admit to yourself that you raised someone who could make his wife want to leave him. i get it. i have a son too, and seeing him at the age of two i hate to think that at some point in 30-50 years that he would treat a romantic partner of his the way your son has treated me. 

i would hate to think that he would grow up to think that it was okay to stop trying to better himself just because his significant other happens to get a job that pays more than him. i would hate to think that he would disregard his significant other's feelings when it comes to sex. i would hate to think that if his significant other was sharing their feelings with him that he would turn it into an argument regarding how his significant other is criticizing his worth and abilities rather than listening and seeing where he should take action. i would hate to think that if his significant other asked to him to go to counseling, whether individual or couples, that he would claim it was too expensive while continuing to pursue personal hobbies that cost far more than the cost of a therapy session. 

i would hate to think that he would decide that educating himself beyond high school was unimportant, so much so that he convinces himself that he knows more than those who actually take the time to study specific topics and specialties because he looked up something he agreed with on the internet. i would hate to think that he would tell people he was proud of his academically-minded significant other, while at the same time deriding their professional choices to them in private and insisting that their profession was the reason society was in decline. 

i would hate to think that he would shame his significant other for not doing "their share" of the housework and he chooses to not do dishes, not clean floors, not clean bathrooms, and only do his own laundry when he's out of socks and underwear. i would hate to think that he would shame his children for being children, not listen to his significant other regarding parenting suggestings, and feel that the only way to raise his children is through intimidation and fear. 

yes, your son can be a delightful person, at times. he can be kind, when he wants to be. he can be inquisitive, regarding topics he is specifically interested in. but more often than not over the last 10-15 years he has been selfish, thougthless and outright hateful and intolerant. 

i have been submissive, flexible, prayerful, and longsuffering in hopes that my example would help him change. i have done it long enough, because all he has done is take advantage of my patience. 

at this point, i'll focus on myself and our children. i'll teach them the gospel of peace, love, charity and forgiveness in hopes that our daughter will have the ability to stand up for herself sooner than i did, and that our son will not treat others the way your son has. and i'm happy to find the scriptures and religious articles to back up my point of view to send to you later. 

best, 

your grandchildren's mother.

An essay from the past

I wrote this many years ago as an assignment for a nonfiction writing class I took probably 8 years ago now. 

It's long, but it makes me feel like I should find time to write again. Not just journal, but actually write.

Nocturnal

    You get different answers when you think about something at three in the morning andthen again at three in the afternoon. I vaguely remember this as a punchline to a Peanuts comic strip with Snoopy laying on top of his doghouse. I would like to always be asleep at three in the morning, and not thinking about things. It would make the days easier. Especially days when I have to be at work, which is most days. So each night I put myself to bed at the most reasonable hour possible, which ends up being sometime between 9:00 and 11:30, not exactly a standard bedtime. In order to combat insomnia, the authorities say you should go to bed at the same time every night and get up at the same time every morning. That is part of what they call “good sleep hygiene”. I attempt to practice good sleep hygiene: no television in the room, blinds drawn, dark as possible (I even own two sleep masks), avoid reading in bed, avoid using electronics in bed. According to the rules of good sleep hygiene, the bed is for two things: sleeping and sex. If I don’t fall asleep within 30 minutes, I’m supposed to get out of bed and dosomething else, somewhere else until I start to feel sleepy again. The activities shouldn’t be stimulating: no walks, no chores, no TV (the artificial light apparently messes with serotonin levels in the brain and inhibits production of melatonin which aids with sleep, or some such thing). Apparently it’s okay to read. Or sit on the couch. In the dark.

    I don’t wear earplugs. I fear not being able to be awakened at night if someone comes into my house (which I shouldn’t, because the dogs barking would be loud enough to wake me up, even with earplugs), and as a mother I want to be able to hear if my daughter wakes up in the night and needs me. No matter than my husband snores like a bear, and talks in his sleep. I also know he sleeps like a rock and wouldn’t be easily wakened by cries from a sad/scared/sick child in another room. So no earplugs. But I probably should wear earplugs, since he is often asleep far sooner than I am, and his snoring inhibits my ability to fall asleep because my brain fixates on the noise. I would like to smother him with a pillow. I jostle the bed in hopes that he will roll over and stop snoring long enough for me to fall asleep. With the amount of jostling I do in a night, I’m sure it would look to a stranger as if I was having seizures in my bed.

    The fear of being too deeply asleep is the same reason I don’t use over-the-counter or prescription sleep aids. Well, part of the reason, anyway. They tend to help me get to sleep, but not stay asleep. If I wake in the middle of the night, I can’t take more. And then there are the side effects like nightmares, sleepwalking, I don’t like the groggy feeling that comes with sleep aids in the morning, and sometimes well into the rest of the day. And then there are the sleep aids which have the side effect of alertness.

    So, I try to sleep the “natural” way, something that should come easily since everyone has to sleep. I should be able to lay down because I am tired, close my eyes and drift off into relaxing, rejuvenating sleep. 

    But I can’t sleep. Because my brain won’t stop. It runs a well-known list of to-dos and anxieties every night:

Laundry to be folded. Did the laundry in the washer get put in the dryer so it won’t mildew overnight? Did the dryer get turned on? Should I get out of bed to check the dryer? I’m pretty sure the laundry is okay I’ll stay in bed. The dishes didn’t get done, again. Did the leftovers from dinner get put away in the fridge, or are they sitting out on the stove, counter or table? I should get up and check to see if the food has been put away. No, I did put it away. I can stay in bed. Floors need swept, mopped or vacuumed. Dusting needs to be done. Is it trash day tomorrow? Bathroom needs cleaned. What if one of the dogs gets sick in the night? Or eliminates in the house? I’ll have to get up and clean it up which will wake him up. Did the car insurance get paid on time? I panic because I remember the one time I didn’t pay it on time and the policy got cancelled for 12 hours before I could call in and pay and reinstate it. Did I account for the auto-withdrawals coming out of the bank this week? Am I going to get an email notification that my bank account has gone into the red because I forgot about a check that I wrote for a bill, or have too many auto-withdrawals set up out of this paycheck? What if my husband gets shorted on hours this week so his check is less than we need it to be to make the bills? What if he gets into a car accident on the way to work in the morning? He’s a very aggressive driver, it could happen. What if the accident is his fault and we get sued and lose everything? What if I get into a car accident on the way to work tomorrow? What if I get hurt but my daughter is okay? What if my daughter gets hurt? We can’t afford a car accident because we can’t afford to replace a car.

    Since I can’t sleep, I cheat: I stay in bed and scan Facebook or play games with my phone shaded under my comforter. I try to covertly read a book hiding under my covers like I did when I was a teenager sharing a room with a sister, so as not to wake my roommate with my flashlight. This does not work so well because my breath makes it hot and claustrophobic under the blankets and I start feeling like I’m suffocating on my own exhale that is trapped beneath the blankets. I try to divert my brain and bore it into silence so that I can fall asleep. When I was younger, reading would excite my brain and keep it awake. I could read a five hundred-plus page novel in one sitting, starting at about lunchtime on a Saturday or Sunday and finishing up late at night. Now, I often find myself nodding off when I read, even when I’m not near a bed.

    There are times when I do get up from the bed because I have given up on sleep. I will creep out of my bedroom, leaving my husband sleeping like the dead and tiptoe into our daughter’s room and into the soft blue glow of her night-light that projects a halo of light with a drawing of the solar system onto the ceiling. I check that she has not kicked her blankets off and brush strands of hair from her face. In the dark the room has a quiet sense of mystery in the shadows of her bookshelf and baskets of toys. I make sure to close her closet doors if they are ajar, remembering the fears of my own childhood.

    Once when I was small, I looked into my slightly-open closet and saw what I swore was the severed head of a bearded man; when the light was turned on it turned out to be a transparent tote full of crafting supplies that belonged to my mother. My normally familiar and inviting room would become something alien in the darkness of the night, especially when there was no moon. The closet door had to be closed against the invasion of dark, creeping things that would accost me in the night, grabbing for my feet, tangling my hair and turning my dreams into nightmares. I used to stare at the ceiling at night with various siblings as we tried to obey our mother’s admonition to go to sleep, but were agitated and giggly as children are at bedtime. We would make up stories and sing songs and look for pictures the texturized ceiling created from the interplay of light and shadows coming from the moon or from the streetlamp across the street. It was the opposite of the cloud watching we would do laying on our backs on our back lawn in the afternoons.

    Some nights pain would shoot through my legs. Cramps and aches that would make sleep impossible. I would lie in my bed, kicking and stretching my legs trying to find relief and whimpering for my mother. I don’t think I was loud. In my memory I was never very loud, but my mother always came. Her dark silhouette would enter the room making soothing noises and she would massage the pain from my legs. Very likely she was not getting restful sleep herself, as I was one of many children in the house, including an infant after me every two years until I was ten. Those baby siblings would sleep in a rocking cradle in my parents’ room so that they could be soothed by my mother without her having to leave her room. She would only leave her room for the needs of the older children as they called to her from throughout the house. I’m sure she was bleary-eyed and unsteady on her feet as she navigated the hallways to our rooms as we called out due to nightmares, or pain in our limbs. I don’t remember what she looked like, only her beneficent shadow entering my room with soothing words of love. Growing pains, she called the pains that plagued me and would rub and smooth my rebellious legs and sing softly to lull me back into a peaceful sleep:

Now the day is over, night is drawing nigh.

Shadows of the evening, steal across the sky.

Jesus gives the weary calm and sweet repose

With Thy tend’rest blessings, may your eyelids close.

    I often sing this song to my own daughter at bedtime when she is restless. I will stroke her hair and rub her back until she falls asleep. I will remember my own mother stroking my hair and rubbing my back until I dozed off, and wish that she could sing me to sleep now. After checking on my daughter I will often walk through the house in the dark. I stand in the middle of the kitchen, looking out the window across the backyard and how foreign it looks in the dark. The chain-link dog kennel is the Bastille; the garden plot a desolate wasteland. I move from the kitchen into the living room, hoping the neighbors across the street don’t have the floodlight next to their garage turned on since it interrupts what is otherwise the peaceful darkness of my midnight wanderings. I look at the dead maple tree in the front lawn and the quiet expanse of my street. I sit on the couch and cover up with the crocheted throw blanket hoping to be able to sleep. If I can just sleep, it’ll all look different in the morning.

lost decades

 last night as i was getting ready for bed, a thought came to my mind:

all i ever wanted was to be a mom. a stay-at-home mom. 

he knew, and he NEVER tried to give that to me.

before we got married, we talked about my getting a job to pay off my credit card & save up some money until we got pregnant, and my going back to college to finish my degree since i didn't want to abandon that goal entirely. 

by year 2 of our marriage i was working 2 jobs. i had applied to college again since i got a tuition break where i worked my main job. then his hunting buddy's dog had a litter of puppies. he said if we didn't live in a no-pets apartment that he'd've wanted one the hunting buddy made a comment to the effect of "i'll just keep this one for you till you get a house"

so the househunting began. it was the early 2000's when getting a no-down payment home loan was easy. we really couldn't afford it. especially since i'd have to give up my 2nd job in order for me to go back to school.  

i wasn't comfortable with the idea of buying a house. we had no savings, no down payment & the mortgage would be more than our rent which we could barely afford as it was. but he insisted. he bought into the realtor & mortgage banker's insistence that we'd "grow into" the payment. 

he was offered a promotion at work within a year or two of us moving into the house that he declined. he didn't want to possibly give up an occasional weekend day, or adjust his work shift. he made an assumption that he wouldn't get to use his time off to go hunting when he wanted.  basically: he didn't want to take on more responsibility. he claimed that the increase in pay "wasn't worth it" because he'd supposedly end up working more than 40 hours a week without "enough" overtime. as much as he constantly bitched about his job, he didn't actually dislike it enough to change his situation. 

one of his friends started a construction company a few years before we had our daughter & offered him a project supervisor position at a starting hourly wage more than he was getting & with the possibility of increase as the company took off. even tho i could carry insurance through my job, he declined b/c "what about his 401K" & "what about my employee discount" at the old job. nevermind he could have still socked away money in a IRA to add to the existing 401K, and we wouldn't have needed the stupid discount because he'd've been making more. his friend's company took off in leaps & bounds and was doing huge construction projects within 5 years. 

all other jobs he "applied" for were actually done by me. i found the jobs, i told him about them, i explained to him why they were worth applying for, i filled out the applications. he went to exactly 2 interviews. the rest he blew off instead of calling in sick on interview day like most people in service-industry jobs do. 

he started collecting hunting dogs. i say this because we had dog #1 that got us the house, then we *had* to get another dog to be it's pal & because it was from "good bloodlines" and he saw dollar signs thinking we could breed puppies. that, of course, is not how it works with the most popular breed in the country when they're not show dogs. so then he found a different breed that was "even better" and we spent thousands of dollars to buy and train one. 

then i was done with my bachelor's. then i got a promotion. then my grandma died & we got an inheritance which i took as a sign that it was time to try to get pregnant. i finished my master's while pregnant & with a newborn. and another puppy. because an "opportunity" opened itself for him to get another dog & he again saw the possibility of making money of puppies. 

he was offered another promotion that he again refused, because it might involve us moving and he didn't want to have to navigate the process of selling the house & possibly temporarily moving into an apartment or leased home that would require even temporary rehoming of the dogs. 

all this time i'm working, and being a mom, and he's also expecting me to act as stay-at-home wife because he rarely does any of those tasks unless it's absolutely unavoidable. he was happy to have me as primary-income-childcaregiver-wife-housekeeper-mom proxy. he was okay with my being always uncomfortable and often unhappy but was fine with never changing his behaviors. 

i asked and asked for his help. for him to do more around the house, for us to go to couples counseling, for him to work on his anger. each time he would turn it around as me giving him a "guilt trip" for not being the manly provider, that we didn't have the money for that, that he should be allowed his "feelings" too. he claimed he "wanted" to be the primary earner so i didn't have to work so much, but he never actually tried to do that. 

he turned an optimist into a pessimist. i never had anxiety about the future until about 5 years into our marriage, and then i was constantly concerned about possible catastrophes. 

so here i am, regrouping. reorganizing. it can't get much worse from here, so i'll claw my way back to the top. i'll make a better life for me and my kids, and he can go do whatever he wants. 

waiting game

I got a call from the visit mediator on Friday, but of course I was working so she left a message. I called back and got her voicemail. But this means that once we do connect that supervised visits between the wee girl and her dad will start. 

I also got a letter from social services about the application for child support enforcement that I filed so that he has to pay monthly support, rather than not being legally obligated. I have to fill out some forms & get it turned back in ASAP to get that ball rolling for real. 

School is back in session for the wee girl and it's all online due to COVID. She's studying with a friend of hers from her old daycare, which was a HUGE blessing. Last week (the first week of school) was rough, but we got through it. Yesterday she had a meltdown on the way saying she hated how it was "all talking" and no time for coloring or quiet reading. There are breaks scheduled throughout the day, but it's still a LOT of being on Zoom for a kid. She mentioned having a headache yesterday and woke up in the middle of the night with a headache last night. 

I feel like I'm not doing enough. I need/want to triage my life and list all the things that HAVE to get done versus the things that NEED to get down so I can settle my brain. My anxiety-induced insomnia is back and that's just one more thing that I feel stressed about. 

I have a job interview tomorrow via Zoom. For a position that pays a minimum of $5K more than I'm making now, and up to $7K more. It would add a 30 minute commute daily each way, but gas isn't that terribly expensive right now. We'll see where it goes I guess. 

Right now it feels like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop again. But then again, by the time it does it'll be the full pair and I'll be done. 

Getting down to business

 August 5 was my last hearing. The Guardian ad Litem explained why she wanted supervised visits, his lawyer conceded. It was agreed that the protective orders would stay in place in the meantime, allowing for supervised visits between my daughter and her dad, and would be revisited in late October. 

I got my paperwork for visits filed within 48 hours. When I turned in my stuff the court clerk asked if he had filed his. I said I had no way of knowing, so she checked. He hadn't. Visits can't happen without his filing the paperwork because they're at his expense. 

A few weeks later he had a friend text asking if the friend could get some personal belongings and his motorcycle from the house for him. I knew he was having car trouble because our church Bishop had told me and I'd seen his car at the house of the friend who watches our daughter (they're mutual friends, but staying neutral & making sure he's not there when she is), because the husband is good with mechanical things & was fixing something on it. 

So, the spouse's friend got a box of clothes, a small finger-print-enabled safe (just his fingerprints, of course!), and the motorcycle. I was pretty sure the safe had not only the title for the motorcycle but also at least one handgun. I mentioned this to the go-between & that while I wasn't afraid he'd use it on me, I was concerned about him since he said he had considered suicide after a breakup before we ever met. 

I figure if he's going to tell people he thinks I've gone crazy, then it's fair game for me to do the same. 

I saw a FB post on spouse's page almost immediately indicating he wanted to sell the motorcycle. Cool, I didn't care about it anyway, and I know he has lawyer bills to pay also. 

Then I heard that shortly after whatever was originally not working on his car was fixed that it slipped the timing belt. That's a big money fix. I also needed to get the extra car seat out of his car because my hours at work had to change for a week due to expected foot traffic. So I checked in with our Bishop, who told me where the car was in the shop, and then I got the seat & bailed. 

My car, in the meantime, has had its wipers go kaput (which my friend was able to do a semi-repair on, as long as I don't put them on the "high" setting), and the in-cabin fan isn't turning on which means the AC (which works) isn't getting blown around inside the car and that sucks because it's summer and it's HOT. But the windows work & the kids don't complain too much on the drive home from the sitters. 

One of my sisters looked over my budget, which was a harrowing experience because I have some very deep-seated SHAME at the fact that I can't make my bills, as if it's a moral issue on my part which I logically know it's not but feelings are feelings ... so now she's going to go to the rest of the family to see how they can help out regularly so I don't go into arrears on my important bills (mortgage, utilities, daycare) and can still feed the kids. 

I've applied for 3 jobs that have starting pay higher than what I'm making now. I'm not holding my breath since I am having a hard time feeling like I look good on paper and feel like the HR screeners will somehow be able to smell how desperate I am through my resume & cover letter.  Somehow even being a perpetual optimist about most things, when it comes to myself I think nothing good can or will happen. 

Last week I got a text from spouse's go-between again asking to pick up spouse's hunting guns, because season is right around the corner. At least that's what the go-between said he was told. I have a feeling that a number of those firearms are getting pawned for cash. I got a number of them together and sitting in the livingroom before leaving for work that day, and was still surprised by the number of firearms that left my house: 4 handguns and I'm pretty sure 10-12 long guns. The go-betweens were pretty shocked as well when I kept pulling guns out of the closet that didn't fit in our gun safe (the safe is set up to take 6 long guns).  Spouse had apparently told them he wanted the gun safe too, but there was no way they were moving it without a full size dolley and at least 2-3 other guys, so they said they'd confirm that he really did want the safe also. 

Of course, I feel like a jackass for letting well over $5000 in firearms leave the house. But at the same time, I don't want them. I want the kids and I want the house, and I want to be DONE with him. 

I also want him to take his dogs, but I know that's not going to happen with where he is. And I don't want the dogs getting short shrift because I made him take them. Even though they do make me INSANE with their barking every hour on the hour from the time I get home till bed. It's beyond irritating, and my daughter hates it and my son barks back. 

Now I've got to work out a plan for school, because OF COURSE people in my area are buttheads and not doing what they need to do in order to slow the spread of COVID, so the daily new case count has been bordering on the range that the school district had determined (with the help of the local health department) to indicate the need to do hybrid or full online school delivery. 

I can't supervise my daughter while she does online school, because I have to be *at* work, so I can show crusty faculty what buttons to push to get Zoom to work, and read instructions to teenagers that they decided weren't important until they couldn't figure out how to get into their online book, but still wouldn't go back and READ THE DIRECTIONS. 

My friends who have been watching my daughter can't keep watching her through the school year. They do gig work and work from home and one is also in college, and they have their own kids to deal with school issues for. This would have been a hurdle regardless of whether all this other mess was going on or not, and I'm glad I don't have him raging around the house about "fairness" and other stupid crap that doesn't apply or help while I work things out. I'm just in the headspace where my little voice tells me that I'm using up all my social capital too fast and pretty soon everyone's going to drop me like a bad habit and I really will be all alone. 

And the fact that I've got so many balls in the air is eating up my available brain space so I feel extra stupid and vulnerable. Even making a list hasn't helped because my brain keeps thinking that I've forgotten to put something on the list. 

I keep telling myself it'll be okay later, I just have to get through today, another week, another month. 

I don't think that anything in my life has made me feel as alone as this situation is doing. 

hurry up and wait

Court date yesterday was also weird. I met my attorney for the first time in person. He wasn't there-- i guess he didn't have to be? Honestly it was nice to not have to see him in person because my anxiety was super high. His lawyer joined via Zoom & said he didn't understand the reasoning behind the request for supervised visitation with the kids, as per the recommendation of the Guardian Ad Litem. The Guardian Ad Litem wasn't there, but had sent a colleague who said they just had the notes & not the rationale. So, the judge continued another 2 weeks. My attorney brought up the subject of monetary support for the kids, and she asked if a divorce had been filed. When the answer was "not yet", she said "so get the paperwork filed, and you can request retroactive support"... well okee dokey then. Good thing I have a job that keeps most of the bills paid, and family and friends who are willing to help out when things get hairy.

My mom let me know that his mom wrote her a letter expressing her concern about me and that she feels that I'm hormonally imbalanced. His mom is a retired nurse who never got her RN because she didn't want to have the extra responsibility & worked in a tiny county hospital her entire career and did no psychological nursing care. She has ZERO qualifications to be trying to armchair diagnose me.

It's not peri menopause, it's not postpartum. It's that I hit my limit of bullshit and I'm not willing to gaslight myself to give him a pass on being a jerk. Just because she chose to be married to a man who acted worse than her son for YEARS and only cooled down in his early 60s doesn't mean I have to do the same. Just because our church still has a stigma toward divorce because we believe marriage is forever, doesn't mean I am obligated to endure abuse and subject my children to abuse with the *hope* that he'll mend his ways in the future.

I go back to my post from 5 years ago & it confirms this is not new. This is a pattern of behavior that has gotten more pervasive and damaging in the last 2 years. THIS IS NOT IN MY HEAD.

pondering and planning

my hearing date came and went like a blur almost. my spouse showed up with a lawyer, which i didn't expect but also didn't surprise me. the lawyer asked for a 3 week extension of the ex parte, which i didn't dispute. i figure, if he wants to put himself in time out for 3 more weeks that's fine with me. it's not like i'm going to feel badly for him or beg for him to come back. 

so i have another hearing on the 22nd. i also now have legal representation through a legal aid group in town, so i'm not being charged, but could be on the hook for court costs or other fees if i get a monetary settlement. since the only shared property is our house, and it's not paid off & i'm still living in it i'm not sure that i'll end up having to pay back lawyers, but if so then whatever. 

he was supposed to get paid on the 3rd. well, he did, but it didn't go into our joint account. between my kicking him out & his payday he got his paycheck redirected elsewhere. of course, his lawyer told him he can't talk to me directly, so when i texted him asking what the deal was with his pay because we still had babysitting to pay for and other things he had our church bishop call me & then gave money to a friend to give to me (even though he could have just deposited it into our joint account himself with the debit card he has). 

so, i'm redirecting my paycheck. because since he does have access to our joint account & i can't trust what he's going to do next, i don't want my pay to go *poof* before i can pay bills. i checked with my other bank & it turns out that when i opened that account that it's also joint and i can't take him off without his consent. so that's annoying, but i also know that he doesn't have a debit card for that account, and he's very unlikely to walk-in to withdraw funds. 

so that means i'll be opening a THIRD bank account in just my name so i can ferret away funds that he can't get his fingers on. 

i got myself a PO box this past week. next i'm putting together a plan to get personal items out of my house and into a storage unit. i will protect the physical things important to me a few boxes at a time. 

i've been thinking a lot about future plans. i want to move west to be closer to family, but i also know that it depends on how hard he fights me for custody/visitation with the kids. it really would be so much easier if he'd just die. then i'd be done with him, and could just send my daughter to therapy to talk about how much she misses her deceased father, rather than to therapy to work through the fact that it's NOT HER FAULT that her dad is a jackass and treated her like crap. and also to complain that her mom divorced her dad and in her 9 year old brain a divorce is like the absolute worst thing ever. 

also, can i mention that health insurance blows? our family insurance covers counseling with a standard copay, right... except my daughter's therapist told me yesterday that i had a $140 bill with them from services rendered last year because of bits my insurance didn't pay. but then again, at least i'm not paying $100/hr out of pocket. *sigh*

i'm also looking for other jobs. local jobs with 8-5 hours (right now i'm 9:30-6:30) so that i can more easily pick kids up from sitters without having to rely on the husband. right now my current boss is letting me work 8-5 but i'm not sure how long i can rely on their generosity since once students are on campus again, they'll want me working the later shift to be "available" to help students & instructors in evening courses. they never need me, but whatever. 

other jobs are near family members in other states: colorado, utah, washington, north-central california. i could look in arizona, but it's too damn hot in the summer. haha. i figure if i get some solid leads or an offer then i can argue to the court to allow me to relocate with my kids because i'll have better income, a better support network, etc. 

also, it was my birthday this week. i'm 42 now. 42 is the ultimate answer to the ultimate question of life the universe and everything. i feel like it's a sign. i also had a strong compulsion to get a tattoo of the number. this is a big deal because i am NOT a tattoo person. i like them on other people, but i've never imagined them on myself and i'm a SUPER big baby when it comes to pain, and i'm not sure i've run into anything that's important enough to me to endure the discomfort of tattooing something on my skin. 

but the idea is in my brain, and it's kinda hanging out. i'm not sure if any of the local tattoo parlours are even open, and i'd have to find a friend with ink i like to give me a recommendation, and i'd have to get a babysitter to go, and ... well, it's an idea. maybe not for right now, but maybe for later. 

i'm still sleeping amazingly well. except for my dogs. they're turning into the most annoying early morning alarms ever. husband used to get up at 5:30 every morning & let them out. for the first few weeks they'd start borking at about 5:20. for the last week it's been 5:00. yesterday: 4 am. this morning: 3 am. assholes. 

tonight i'm going to make them all go out one extra time in the evening to see if that'll make their morning borking come later. i haven't changed the evening schedule from what it was before husband was kicked out, so it doesn't compute to me that they want out earlier. i KNOW they can hold it longer than 6 hours, because they never get let out during the workday, but boy they're getting irritating in the mornings. it's mostly the big dogs which are actually HIS (with long stories about how they were acquired even though i didn't want them, and he just ignored me), the little dog just joins in since the others start it. 

well, now i've stolen enough of my employer's time. now to pay attention to my job and the rest of my day...

tipping point

this is a long one.

the day after i emailed my sisters about his verbal abuses, and how he treats our daughter, he got so angry at her that she locked herself in her bedroom. he called to say he was going to "make good" on his threat to break down the door if she ever locked herself in again ... when she's upset or feeling overwhelmed she will try to go to her room to cool down, but he often will interfere with that. I've been there when she's locked herself in before because he's been mad. she'll let me in eventually, but he has always threatened to break down the door or take the door off its hinges, as well as other threats of destroying her property.

it was 4:45 on the 12th. i had missed a phone call from him while in the bathroom at work. there was a voicemail, but i just called him back without listening to it because usually it's just him asking me to call back or whatever.

he sounded so smug on the other end of the phone: "you didn't listen to the voicemail"

then he told me what he'd done. i went cold inside: "that is not okay. i am NOT okay with that"

then i listened to the voicemail. it was basically him yelling at her and her yelling back. i saved it for later. for evidence.

then she called. she sounded terrified. i asked if he had hurt her. she said no, but that she was so scared. i told her i was coming to get her.

i packed up my things & walked out the door at work just before 5:00. i picked up our son. i texted two friends that i might need a place to stay, depending on what happened when i got home. i went to the house. she was in my room, clutching her favorite stuffed animal. he was in the bathroom. i opened the door because he never locks it, and he looked at me like nothing was amiss. i told him i wanted him to leave. he just shrugged and said ok, and left.

i called my mom. she advised i go stay with friends even though he left, because he could come back more angry and make us unsafe. i started packing my car. the neighbors were out in their yard, i told them i'd asked him to leave. they were shocked, but asked what they could do to help.

i got a all from a friend from church. i asked if he was there. she said he had been, but he was gone now. she asked if i was ok, and if i wanted her to come watch the kids while i packed the car. i said yes. later she told me she called because he had told her call & ask me to "not forget to feed the dogs" ... she said she knew i was smart enough to handle that without a reminder, but she knew she could offer help since she knew what i was going through based on her own personal experiences.

i spent the weekend with a friend who has a daughter who is also friends with my daughter. i slept better than i have in i can't remember how long.

he called at 6 am on Saturday morning asking if he could "come home" and i replied he could go to the house, but that we weren't there. he spent the rest of the day texting and asking "permission" to do things like his laundry or watch TV. he had told me he was "sorry for upsetting me" and not "i'm sorry i was a selfish asshole who got so mad that i terrified our child to the point that she locked herself in her room & then felt my anger was so justified that i also tried to break the door in to yell at her more and make her feel even so unsafe. that was wrong. i should get counseling."

i found a number for a local legal aid service on Monday & called. got a screening interview on Tuesday. started filling out temporary protective order paperwork on Wednesday. called the local Child Abuse Hotline on Thursday. talked to child protective services & filed the protective order paperwork on Friday.

Saturday i told him i needed a longer break. that him in the house but sleeping in another room wasn't cutting it. i hadn't told him about the protective order, because i wasn't sure how he would react. they tried to serve him at his parents & his dad called him. he said to his dad "i have NO IDEA what's going on" and got his suitcase and left. i logically don't care that he felt blindsided by my getting legal protections, but my "people pleaser" self felt badly for him.

Sunday i talked to my church's bishop. he claimed that husband expressed that it was a "communication issue" and he'd do counseling, but didn't know how we'd pay for it. bishop offered church funds to help pay for it, if i'm amenable. i filled the bishop in on the issues that i've been dealing with over the last 2 years. his reply was that he has to remain impartial, that forgiveness was for everyone, and that i should think about the eternal nature of my marriage. i let the bishop know that we have a court hearing July 1. i also told him i don't officially have a lawyer -- i don't, since legal aid hasn't officially taken my case as of yet. i stopped short of saying: bishop, i told you he is verbally abusive and has HIT our child without showing any kind of remorse and you really want me to "think about my marriage?" honestly, if my marriage really forever, then i'm fairly sure that God can straighten things out when we all have a little more knowledge in the afterlife.

CPS was supposed to have interviewed him on Monday or Tuesday. he called on Sunday and said he "never" hit her. i said, maybe not on Friday, but you did back in January with that book. he claimed no memory of the incident. which made me enraged.

and now it's Wednesday. he's out of the house with legal penalties until a hearing July 1. my church friend has been taking my daughter during the day. my boss let me change my hours so i can pick my son up from the sitter. evenings are quieter, and run more smoothly. she's not getting yelled at for playing on the iPad. she's more willing to help with small things more quickly. the dogs bark less. i actually FEEL TIRED by 9 pm.

now i just have to work on moving things out. getting some of my irreplaceable material items safe. then figure out what the next steps are. i know i'm going to have to deal with people who want me to be more conflicted and indecisive than i actually feel. yes, i have feelings because we've been together so long. but that doesn't mean i have to KEEP staying with him. yes, a part of me will always love him because that's how feelings work, but i don't think i've been IN LOVE with him for more than 5 years.

i'm done picking through the bad to find tiny slivers of good. my fingers are cut up enough.

personal updates

i emailed my family last night. it took me almost 48 hours to write the email. it took another 12 hours for me to send it.

earlier in the day my youngest sister was texting the sisters thread about getting ready to go to get medical treatment for her depressive episodes. it made me want to not email at all. but i did, and i left her off. her and my younger brother since he's stressed about finding a job & his wife is expecting their #2 baby. they don't need to be worrying about their big sister's situation.

i texted at about midnight. 3 of my sisters responded within an hour. i cried in the dark in my bed next to my daughter (because he is still sleeping in the other room) until about 3 am.

i am exhausted and have a splitting headache that i'm hoping doesn't turn into a migraine. i started reading a backlog of old journals (electronic and paper) and these feelings of despair have been going on for well over 6 years. indications of his verbal abuse go back further. i may be depressed, but it may also be that i've needed to leave for MUCH longer than i want to admit to myself.

two of my sisters said i can come stay with them. they both live in places where i could see myself doing well if i used them as a temporary landing pad. one sister mentioned there is a school within walking distance of her house and that she'd babysit the smol boy for me until i got on my feet.

now that i have been brave enough to tell family,  i need to get brave enough to go for legal advice. i need to actually pay for a storage unit. move important things into it. get all my vital documents in a quick grab-and-go envelope.

mom asked if i'd talked to my pastor. not yet. and i may never. everyone at church thinks spouse is such a good guy.

if they only knew. if i can manage it, i'll just disappear and they can make their own conclusions.

pandemic updates

it's been years since i blogged, but i figured it was time to return to it. i've been keeping a handwritten journal on an off for a while, but need a more mobile way to record my thoughts. thoughts that don't fit on twitter, which i've used recently mostly to document specific incidents.

the last entry was a sad one. it still hurts. a year to the day that my niece was found drowned, her twin sister was in a car accident that took her life.

i've lost an infant niece to stillbirth.

i had a baby boy in 2018, so the wee girl now has a smol boy to shower with love.

the troubles with cowboy that were bothersome 5 years ago are much much worse now. they were worse 2 years ago before the smol boy was born, and have not gotten better since. and now that i've been working from home for the last month and a half due to COVID-19, things have really come to a head for me.

cowboy has been refusing counseling of any kind for many, many years. he feels justified in his awful behaviors, and it's more than just being a bit of a jerk occasionally. now it's him flashing to rage on a nearly weekly basis, and almost daily directly belittling or indirectly insulting our 9 year old daughter for behavior that is normal to 9 year olds.

i finally told my mom how bad it's been. she was supportive. immediately called it out as emotional abuse. did not make excuses for his behavior.

i need to get a financial cushion before i can take steps to leave. and i think that is my next option. because family counseling won't work when he insists he's doing nothing wrong and our daughter "needs fixed" before he'd even come.

she's not broken. she's a child.

and now i plan. not sure how long it'll take, but hopefully i can get some savings and be gone within a year. no idea where i'll go or how i'll get there, but i can't stay here with my children.

i have to take a stand.