Warning: in effort to spare the planet an explosion resulting in a black hole sucking us all into oblivion, I’m going to release a rant into the confines of cyberspace where it can safely dissipate without causing any bodily harm to an innocent bystander.
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At least, this is what the warning whistles are advising could happen if the insane amount of frustration and anger I have vacuum-sealed inside of myself manages to escape the wrong way.
A bit of a background; my bf and I are currently living together with our dear son who is 5. I left school, I was taking an accounting course I very much enjoyed and was doing rather well at; I left a secure support network of friends, a promising future, HAPPINESS for the first time in YEARS, and security. Why for? Because this man had been mugged at gun point, and told “if you go to the police and report us, or ID us, we’ll kill you. But first, you’ll watch us put a bullet into the brain of your little boy here -we can find him ’cause we know where you live and we have pictures of him from your Blackberry.” Honest to gods, I hope nobody ever experiences this, and I don’t regret dropping everything and moving back, though I do think in hind-sight I should have spoken to the police in Kitchener for alternatives to keep our son safe. The muggers were caught on tape in the week after the mugging, at the building he lived in with his father, as well as at his preschool watching the kids play in the playground. It was NOT a good scene, neither of them could be together in that part of town at all and be seen, so there really was no question. Someone had to move, and it ended up being me. I love my son, I’ll move the world for him especially if his life were in danger.
How did his father and I end up living in different provinces? Well, the Coles notes:
Mothers Day weekend, 2006- the Man surprises me with an “I know you really wanted to go to a convention, and that we don’t have money for child care or a road trip, but my friends have offered to pay my way and drive me there, so we decided you’re staying home by yourself and we are going without you.” No warning, after we’d agreed we’d bow out of this year’s con and go next year together when we had the funds and our kiddo could either stay with grandparents or come along with us. Nope. His friends, who claimed to be ours, went behind my back to say “hey… to hell with Azure, we’ll take you and you don’t worry about the entry fee. She’s his mother, it isn’t like you’re married so she’s obliged to not go anywhere and babysit for whenever you want to go where ever you like” Some friends huh? Some fiance was he, and wow what an example my common law spouse was making of himself. Really now, if *I* had done that there’d have been hell to pay “the nerve of you being so selfish! Azure, you are a mother now, put your child ahead of your wants and wishes!” but him? “aww poor guy’s a dad now, he should run off for road trips and long weekends whenever he wants to.” I spent the whole weekend crying, and wondering if I should even be home when he came back, or packed up and crashing somewhere else with the kiddo until we could get a place of our own. What kind of friends will encourage a person to abandon their spouse and treat them like slave labor? Really, knowing we both were passionate about wanting to go and both really needed a break. I’m a people-pleaser by nature, to a fault (probably a contributing factor to people thinking its ok to step on me), so whenever he wants to go out in the evenings or take weekends to go play with the boys, or whatnot “yah sure, go ahead, you work hard have fun!” but … what about my turn? Parenting is 50/50, as is a marriage. If this is what marriage to him would be like, could I use my Get-out-of-jail-free card now and just avoid the hole damn mess?
Evidently, the man has some sense of right versus wrong, because he sold a farkload of his treasured L5R cards in order to purchase an iPod nano for me as a “mother’s day gift.” He made a point to make sure I understood how hard he hunted for an iPod nano on a Sunday, on Mothers Day (in a province that had Sunday Shopping, so it wouldn’t be hard to find a Walmart or Electronics Store that had a 2Gig nano). So many cards it took, oh so painful to separate from. Well, if it was a gift, why are you trying to make me feel guilty for accepting it? Or were you trying to make me feel guilty for wanting to be treated like your Fiancee?
Really, should anyone feel guilty for just wanting their fiance to return the courtesy of being thought of before tossed to the side in the mud? I personally, really don’t think that’s fair at all. But maybe it was a warning of things to come.
Three months later, September 2006- I had begun to see a therapist, because my depression was making it impossible for me to work at all, and I needed to leave my job. I was hyperventilating multiple times per day, it wasn’t pretty at all. So I asked, to make sure the Man was part of the decision process, if he’d mind if I left my job and looked for something with better hours that wouldn’t be breaking me emotionally. I was relieved when he said it was cool, I’d be a SAHM for a month while my health recovered, then look for something different that would accommodate my health. All good, I figured, right? Wrong. He waited to learn my schedule for my therapist, 1ce biweekly, and from work knowing that my sessions were over and I’d be in a Group for 6 weeks without individual sessions, to help learn to find joy again (there’s that joy word again).
Via MSN no less, the man sends me a message “I’m not happy, its not your fault, but I’m going to move in with someone else for a little while because you stress me out. Oh and if I don’t leave you, a financial advisor said I’m going to go to jail and never get a student loan so I can finish my degree, and we’re all going to crash, and I’ll be on the streets, and I’ll be a failure, and curse you for not keeping your job, curse you for being sick, oh but it isn’t your fault. Oh, and I’m really sad about everything that brought me to this point, so don’t talk to me about this when I get home, don’t talk to me for 2 weeks. Thanks.”
HOLY FARK, I thought it was a joke at first, one of his co-workers playing a nasty joke on him if he’d forgotten to lock his computer, but no. HE REALLY and HONEST to gods ended our common-law union and our engagement, and tossed our family aside because HE didn’t want to work on his issues. He didn’t want to talk. He, the victim, wanted to go play house with his new girlfriend and her 11 month old daughter so that she could escape her current boyfriend who is a drug addict.
HELLO? Um… He knew this was coming and let me leave my job? He knew this was coming and purposely waited until he KNEW I wouldn’t have a scheduled appointment with my therapist. I personally, think he wanted to do as much damage as possible when he felt I was isolated the most and cut off from any help. He hates admitting when he’s wrong, or needs assistance, to the point he hated when I needed help. I couldn’t count the number of prescriptions for birth control or antidepressants he threw out (the ones that finally worked and wouldn’t turn me into a zombie) before I could get them filled. What’s sad, is that he was a nursing student at the time, and had the audacity to lie about discarding the prescriptions, and going into my wallet to get some of them so they could “disappear.” But still, I wasn’t allowed to talk about being abandoned, or being yelled at, or being used, or being screwed over because *he* wasn’t comfortable. What about me? I was left for another woman so he could play house with a new girlfriend and her daughter, yelled at, used, and discarded like garbage. What about my need to confide in someone?
There must have been a reason for it, because when I finally did break 2 weeks later and confided in my mother that the man had left for another woman, her response was “don’t talk to me about it, don’t say anything you’ll regret.” WTF? Regret nothing, holy fark, he pulls this stunt and *I* need to pussyfoot around so I don’t hurt his feelings? What about MY feelings, she was my mother for crying out loud. I don’t even want to know what was said to her or when. I told her a bit of what was happening anyway, she refused to hear the past but asked about the future, so I told him he and his new girlfriend were moving in together so he could help her with her 11 mth old ….. she was beyond surprised, and asked if I was sure the girl wasn’t his daughter. LOL honestly, if I didn’t know how bogged down with ft work and ft school, I wouldn’t believe that this baby wasn’t his daughter.
October 2006- Gods rest you Chris
A dear friend of ours passed away, the disease that killed him was depression and his cunt of an ex-wife used it to her full advantage. We’d put our differences aside, well I’d been doing that all along for the sake of the kiddo, at least I’m really farking sure I was doing a good job at playing doormat while he got ready to move in with his girlfriend, and we went to our dear friends viewing together. We cried, we shared stories with his family and friends who were there. It hurt a lot, considering the last time this disease tried to claim his life, we were at the hospital with him in the ER. It was a hard night; and I knew the man and Chris were close, so I really didn’t mind if he wanted to crash in my bedroom so that he didn’t have to be alone that night. It was a hard night for everyone.
Well evidently not that hard for him. His creature was lonely, that’s why he wanted to bunk in my room. 12 hours from burying Chris, and all he can think about is “wanna screw? My creature is lonely, it misses yours” HELLO? You LEFT me for another woman, your creature has no business being friendly with mine at all. If its lonely, too farking bad. Apparently my pointing out that we would be burying our dear friend in 12 hours reminded him of at least SOME inappropriateness of his request for cheap sex, he decided to sleep on the sofa and left me to cry alone all night. So much for mutual support huh?
Things settled down once he’d moved out, into another unit in the building. After he and his new girlfriend signed their lease, a month after to be precise, the new she decided to not leave her old boyfriend after all (the drug addict who took their 11 month old baby with him to purchase drugs), and left the man on his own to pay the rent. One could say it was rather poetic, but still rather cruel according to the side of me that hurt the least. I looked into school, so I could spend a year or something studying for a career that would earn more than 20k – 23k per year with nasty hours. As much as the man promised couples counseling to see if we could work things out between ourselves, or at the very least process what had happened so we could be productive as separated parents …. it all turned into a lie, he never had any intention of trying to cooperate, or try to make things easier on our kiddo. Nope, gods no, super-Man never needs help, that might mean he was human. It isn’t the lack of following through with his promises that upset me, its the lying to cover it up. And the stories our friends were hearing, by this time most of the friends we’d shared had decided to interact with him and leave me to my own vices. I’m still not sure what stories they were told, because now that we’re back together to try to work stuff out, they still won’t speak to me. Its painful really; and since those stores are probably similar to the ones that went around at the Man’s place of employment… I’m really sure I know where they come from.
I was offered a place to live for 2 months with the kiddo, in Ontario while getting settled and into school, and find a job. the Man agreed it was a good idea, as he’d intended to move there after his course was done anyway. He seemed to be supportive and communicative before and after the move; he had a month off and kept the kiddo here while I settled. Knowing there was a ticket booked for the kiddo to come up with me at the end of April. Our agreement was that the kiddo would spend time with him around his nursing courses and clinicals, or he could come to Ontario to visit with us and we’d make sure he had transportation to/from the airport. This would let him focus on his course, as I had childcare available to cover when I worked and went to class.
Less than a week before the kiddo was to be flown up, I call to see if he’s got the tickets, and to see if he’s flying up with the kiddo or if I’m flying down to pick him up and bring him back.
Unceremoniously, I’m informed that the kiddo is not leaving the province; and if I do anything to upset him (the man), then he’s got paperwork with an attorney ready to be submitted to the courts to bid for full custody to be given to him, and my visitation rights and shared custody rights that he’d agreed to with me initially terminated. I was stunned, it was so out of the blue, and he’d said NOTHING about having any objections to what we’d planned or agreed to. His basis for this? “You don’t have a land line, you have a wireless phone.” No shit sherlock lol, neither of us had a land line, hadn’t for years. No point, when we each had a cell phone and got in touch with each other through them. In fact, we only had a land line temporarily because I wanted one when we first moved in together, and when I was pregnant with our son. That’s it. It was rather hypocritical of him to demand one of me now. It was a bullying tactic through and through, just to see if I’d run back home to the east coast, beg him to be merciful or take me back, quit school and abandon everything that was giving me happiness and securing my ability to provide for myself and my son in the future. I don’t even know if its true, because he refused to give me the name of his lawyer (which I believe is illegal, if he’s preparing action against me with a hired attorney). Just like he refused to give me the names of the “financial advisors” whom he’s said are the ones who told him he had to leave me in the first place, or he’d never be able to get a student loan to complete his education, and that he’d be arrested for not paying his taxes (which would have been long paid for if he’d followed a budget I’d made for winter 2005/spring 2006. By May, no less >.<).
At this point, I don’t even care if he was making it up or not, his tactics and delivery was cruel, and were intended for the sole purpose of causing pain and panic, to try to gain control over someone he’d abandoned long ago. I still wonder if I was crazy for moving back here to the east coast in the summer, because of this statement in April. I do know the mugging actually happened, he had the fark beaten out of him, permanent damage done behind his nose, and the police have located the persons responsible (but don’t want to prosecute, because these people are trying to take that part of town as their new gang’s territory, and the major case unit doesn’t want to risk them getting probation and retaliating since it will likely involve escalated violence. Considering the threats made to our child, and the fact that the police are pretty sure they could attempt to follow through … and the farking police waited until AFTER we’d moved to a safer location to get moving. Being in Canada, one’s CURRENT address and work location are listed when you file charges, even for violent crimes like this. So anonymity and safety would go right out the window, and neither of us are risking our child’s life.
Either way, the die was cast and I had no time to weigh my options, at least at the time. I gave school and my job notice, they were very supportive, and I was back here on the east coast 7 days after the mugging.
The man who met me at the airport with my dad was, almost normal. He was happy to see me, kind and patient, supportive and worried about my stress level. I was to stay at my parent’s place for a few weeks while things settled down, and so was he. When the sightings of these guys stopped, and the police gave us the ok, we started trickling back to his old apartment to both give my parent’s space and to get ready to move out of that particular part of town.
And where did we move? My parents pushed for us to move to a town right beside theirs… a town where a man who sexually harassed me and abused me for 2 long years between age 13 and 15 lives. So yay for feeling stuck in my own home, because I really don’t want to run into him and I know he’s still living here with his mother. All of the friends I have in this province are at least a 30 minute bus ride away, the few I still have anyway.
And now that I’m here? The blood pressure meds and antidepressants I didn’t need after moving to Ontario and escaping this gods forsaken province? Needed and doubled, within a few days. Lets hear it for progress and a healthy environment >.<
Here is what greeted me in the province I was hoping to never see again for more than a long weekend or the occasional 1 week holiday to see family. The man seems to think nothing at all happened between Mother’s Day 2006 and August 2007 when I moved back. Nothing at all, I should still be perfectly comfortable with his advances, which unfortunately make me feel more like his pet sex-doll since there is no trust remaining that hasn’t been burned by his actions or untruths. Yes stuff happened, and no he doesn’t have the right to my body every day or night. I’m a person, not a doll.
The promise to have an appointment with a couple’s counselor to work through the problems and deal with what had happened before and after our split? “oops I forgot” “yes I called them for an appointment, but I forgot to ask for the couple’s counselor” “Yes I called and booked it last week, just haven’t heard from them yet” (they have a 3 day turn around time guarantee, within that time you are called back by the office that will be helping you with an appointment to meet someone in person to discuss your needs, even if that appointment is 3-6 weeks away it is still given to you within 3 days so you know when it is) ((I checked)). In other words, he’s lying about the mediator and couples counselor.
He still puts his buddies and his new girlfriend ahead of working on repairing his family; even trying to be deceitful and sneaking to visit this girlfriend with our child under the pretense of “I missed a bus” … yah missed a bus in Town A caused you to wind up on the other side of Town B? give my intelligence some credit please lol
He even had the audacity to invite the woman he left me for over for a birthday party (consisting of people from work who bought the inaccurate stories about our split-up). In our house. With me home, and the kiddo in bed. I had, no word of a lie, 5 minutes warning that the woman he’d left me for would be coming and I’d be expected to play a gracious hostess to her… and only because they called from Staples to confirm the street directions and our apartment buzzer number. I was floored. They all mumbled a hello to me, then kept their backs to me and ignored me until I had to hide in our bedroom to cry while they had their party until the wee hours of the morning. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were being ignored, I was paying attention to you” he says … then he’d have noticed me being ignored, he’d have noticed me being excluded and run out of the gathering in my own home, he’d have NOT used one of the few keepsakes I have from my dear grandmother as an ASHTRAY (I’m allergic to tobacco smoke, so while the door was open to the patio and his friends were smoking away, all of the tobacco smoke made itself at home inside our apartment. The man didn’t even notice me coming out to put my coat and boots on, and leaving to get a coffee (since I was evidently not welcome in my own kitchen). If I had been mugged and left for dead, he wouldn’t have noticed until noon the following day when he was tired of being woken up by the kiddo, and started looking for me to bitch about not being able to get his precious sleep. I feel so loved >.<
I really don’t think not being told that M was invited to come over, the girl he’d left me for to go play house with, was an accident. I think he knew it would be awkward, and that I wouldn’t be comfortable with it, and purposely didn’t tell me. I’m a FARKING PEOPLE PLEASER, I’d have taken the kiddo to my parent’s place for the night, but no.
Funny, the only person who actually gave me the time of day was someone who’d arrived late that night. He was half out of his mind on medication because he’d had a nasty seizure that day and was still woozy from medication. “Hey, is that your room mate? Hey its cool you’re letting the Man have his birthday party so late, its great you’re babysitting his kiddo for him.”
NOT one person corrected him. Not one, not even the Man said “yes this is my girlfriend, Azure.” or anything at all to acknowledge my presence. I felt … like a ghost no one wanted to admit haunted the house. (maybe they were afraid it’d hurt the Man’s or M’s feelings if my presence or name was mentioned, personally I don’t care what their reasons were, its my home too, and I am the Man’s girlfriend (or so he claims), and he is in theory trying to piece his family back together. He was way out of line imho.)
Everyone finally left because I had to remind the Man with witnesses (or he’d have only ignored me again) that I had to get up at 5:30 am to get ready for work and to take the kiddo to daycare. At least his company was polite enough to take the hint at 1-1:30am. He sat down in a chair across from me in the living room once everyone left and said “wow that was fun, I need to have people like that over more often. They brought booze to share, and we played Zombies…” and stopped to look at me funny. Because I was sobbing loudly in pain and dispare. Couldn’t understand or wrap his head around at all why I might be hurt or upset, so he promised to never “do it again, and I’m sorry” even though he really didn’t understand why I was upset in the first place. It was really hollow, like going through the motions to humor me. Personally, at 31, I think he’d know better than to pull that crap and expect everything to be ok.
October through to the present have been more of the same. Promises to try to mend the relationship and family, promises that he will or that he did call for an appointment with a couple’s counselor (lies), pretending that everything is peachy keen, completely believing that the pain he caused me doesn’t matter, that the lies and the burnt bridges are nothing at all. The threats, the thoughtlessness, the bullying, the fact that he had a clenched fist ready to HIT me in the presence of our preschooler when we were separated and I asked for documentation showing we were separated and we had a child-support agreement in place so I could get a student loan. (if he ever hits me, it’ll be the last time he does so. That’s something I will NOT tolerate)
Really people, am I being unreasonable? I bust my ass to make him comfortable, all I ask is that he return the courtesies I show him (like not bring his fark-buddies home and expecting me to play hostess to them, because I don’t expect him to entertain any of my old boyfriends; not cheating on me because I haven’t cheated on him; being honest; keeping his agreements, etc.)
I think quitting school and a job I loved, and moving back to the east coast was a pretty bold statement of my commitment to try to work things out. All I asked of him, was to book an appointment with a couples counselor. Just one.
Because I know if I pull out everything that I just typed here without a witness, I’ll be screamed at and chewed on, and quite possibly punched. For my own protection, and for fairness, and for his peace of mind, I want a neutral party present so we can work through the mess and whatever problems brought this mess to be as a pair and constructively.
I want a home. Not a house. I want to be someones partner. Not their babysitter, sex-doll, and maid. A partner.
And what is funny is I think I’m the only person I know who thinks this is salvageable. Everyone else thinks I’m absolutely insane. Maybe I am. No, most likely I am. But if I didn’t try at least, I couldn’t have closure. Gods know the Man wouldn’t give me any at all, so the only person who can find it is me.
So far, if we aren’t worth a counselor in the Man’s eyes, maybe we aren’t really worth the effort in his eyes either and I should just give up and return to being a single mother.
I hate hard choices, especially when whatever I choose will bring my son stress and pain.
~Shiny Azure
So I’m stuck making 10k less that what I could have been making if I was able to stay back west for 2 months last year to finish the farking course.
But no my son thinks differently, the living belief my parents tried to emboss into my head of “early to bed and early to rise”, because to him, the morning-time is the best time of day to play. So great, that it ranks up there with afternoon, evening, and after bedtime heehee.
