Matters of the Heart

I need to write this. I need to get this out of my system before I explode.

First off, I’m over my ex-husband. I’m over him so thoroughly it’s crazy. That’s not what I’m concerned about. I’m concerned that one day I’m going to look at one of my children, particularly my oldest child who has my ex-husband’s eyes to a T, and hate them. Loathe them. Wish they were never born. I don’t want that now and just the thought of it possibly happening makes me sick to my stomach and want to cry.

But I know of people that it’s happened to. And it worries me to death. I think it’s a large part of what stresses me out and keeps me up at night.

I love my children. My oldest is in preschool and learning more and more everyday. All of them are so smart, wonderful, adorable, loveable… and while I may be horribly biased, I’m not the only one who thinks so. Especially the loveable part, though. All of them will just go up to someone and give them a hug, say “hi” and smile that heartwarming smile that they have.

I don’t understand how I could possibly come to abhor any of my children, but like I said… I know of other mothers who’ve began to dislike their children after a certain amount of time.

My own mother did it. I don’t want to take after her. I’m afraid that I will. I think that’s what scares me the most: becoming like my mother.

But it’s mind over matter, right? All a power of will?

Guess I need to work on my strength of the mind, heart, and soul. Or something like that.

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Ruined Before It Came

I’m really bad at this updating thing. Gah.

Anyway!

Somebody PLEASE remind me to kick my ex-husband’s ASS because he completely ruined any and all Valentine’s Days to come because of what he did on last year’s Valentine’s Day!!!

I asked my fiance if he wanted to do anything this year for V-Day next month, if he had to work that day, if he wanted me to get a babysitter for the kids and so on and he said he hadn’t really thought about it because everytime he thinks about Valentine’s he gets pissed off to the extreme because of what happened last year.

Oh yeah. What happened last year.

My ex had the kids for the weekend and my fiance and I went on a date a couple hours away – reservations, fancy dress, make-up, nails, heels, and all. And the whole time we were sitting at dinner? My ex was texting me: “when are you coming back?” “are you on your way back yet?” “will you please hurry up?” I got so pissed off that night and we ended up leaving early from our date. It cost, I came later to find out, over $200 for our meal. Like I said: super fancy.

Well, my ex-husband isn’t in the picture at all anymore and I told my fiance that. I’ve reiterated it quite a few times, actually, and said that my mom and stepfather are more than trustworthy enough to take care of the kids and won’t call and ask “when are you coming to get them?”, especially if they know what’s going on or if we schedule ahead of time. I think I’ve got him convinced a little bit, but I think it’s more of me hoping than anything actually happening. Gaaaaah.

I’m gonna hurt my ex-husband so bad.

Well, maybe not literally, but it feels SOOOOOO GOOOOOOOOOOD to “say it out loud”. ūüėČ Hehehe.

Here’s to hoping things get better!

Lately

So I’ve noticed that lately I’ve been focusing¬†my blog posts mainly on mine and my fiance’s life or my [maybe unhealthy] dealings with my ex-husband.¬†Like I’ve said before, this blog is mostly to deal with¬†stress in my daily life¬†– me ranting and raving for no other reason than to get it out of my system. I know that there are probably a lot of people who don’t like reading about my life and I can handle that. It’s my life and¬†not¬†someone else’s, so why would you?

I guess I just kind of have this little hope inside of me that someone will learn from my mistakes.

But that’s not what I’m writing about right now.

Right now I’m trying to figure out a way for me to stop ranting and raving¬†so much about my fiance and my ex-husband. Though, at this moment in time I don’t see how¬†seeing as they are such an integral part of my life.¬†My fiance for obvious reasons and my ex-husband because he’s the father of my children and,¬†unless I get really lucky [and I doubt it], he’s never going to¬†out of my life. I have accepted the latter part¬†with little enthusiasm, but hey, I’ve accepted it. ūüėȬ†Lol!

I’ve been trying to look through¬†prompts and challenges¬†for ideas on something to write, but when I finally get inspiration, it all comes back to something with my fiance or my ex-husband… on occasion my children, which then leads to either my fiance or ex-husband.¬†Blah. I love writing, I love typing, but I hate being repetitive and redundant. Even I’m getting bored of writing¬†pretty much about the same ol’ thing so everybody who¬†reads my blog even¬†“every now and then” has to be sick of it by now!

And I apologize for that. I really, truly do.

My Past. My Ex. My Anxiety.

I have to get this out of my system. I don’t know why, all of sudden, it’s bothering me so much. I don’t know why I’m thinking about all of this, forward and backward. I can’t get it out of my mind.

And so I going to write about it. I’m going to post it here.

I will forewarn you: I don’t know how long this post is going to be. Mind, I’m not going to try and make it a long post, but with what I am going to be writing, it might end up longer than anticipated. Please… if you start reading this, don’t be deterred by the long-windedness of my writing. It just kind of happens.

* * *

I was younger then. It was the beginning of a new school year and all of my friends were off to college; I never graduated high school. I was depressed. I had no idea where my life was going. Everyone was gone. I had no one.

And then He shows up.

Day by day, week by week, month by month – they all went by and I lost count. I can’t tell you exactly when everything happened or in what order. I just know that in the end, everything turned to shit. My family hated me; I was ostracized from the people who raised me and the only people I had to turn to were ones I barely even knew.

I was pregnant. I was engaged. I didn’t love the person I was marrying, but I was denying it to myself. Even looking back I can say that honestly. I just stayed with him so the child in my womb wouldn’t have a broken family like I grew up in.

I was an idiot.

He was abusive.

I eventually left him. It took me a while and several attempts; the cops were called several times to settle disputes between us in the process. What finally pushed me to the edge wasn’t a fight, wasn’t really any sort of abuse. It was a lie. I had finally convinced him to try marriage counseling and we decided on a local pastor/Christian couselor, which honestly surprised me because he’s some sort of atheist.

During the session – the one and only session that we went to – we talked things out, I got things off of my chest and told him what was bothering me. Of course, he nagged at me a bit, but in the end we compromised. My biggest “blah” was that he wasn’t helping out enough with our child and was demanding too much of me; he literally did nothing in the house while I was supposed to do everything and make time to shower myself, feed myself… and him. I had enough to deal with when I was taking care of our child and the household. He could cook for himself. Until I found out that he was only an expert at burning water. :-/

But yes, the session went great. I was happy. Suspicious, but happy. I was rightfully suspicious, I came later to find out. Almost every promise, almost every thing that he said he would change and start doing to help out, was broken not three hours later. He had planned on doing something “with the guys” for the whole weekend. I wouldn’t be seeing him for the whole weekend and I had no prior knowledge about it.

We argued again. I yelled, I cried. I gave up. I knew nothing could be done and I left. I packed a bag that night for me and then one for the baby and, on my way out, left him a note on the bed. I called one of my friends and had her pick me up. We were done. I filed for divorce a month later. He was dating another woman two weeks later.

The faux pas then, though, was that I was pregnant. We ended up having to wait over a year for the divorce to be finalized. Within the first six months, he did not contact me to see our already born child, he made no attempt to try and see our child. When we did make it to court, he said that I¬†had denied¬†him his parental rights to see his child and that’s why he never visited the baby.

Two years later and three children together, we’re going through the same thing.

I don’t know what he’s doing. I have absolutely no idea. I know he’s unstable. He’s the type of person that can’t go without a relationship. Literally CAN NOT. He split with his last girlfriend, at most, two months ago and he’s already dating someone else. Before her, it was a couple weeks. Before that relationship, it was around two months.

And I only know that through, y’know, Facebook. ^^;;

It’s been over six months since he’s seen his children face-to-face and he’s made little effort to see them. I don’t know if he’s trying something underhanded, if he’s going for what he did last time, or if he honestly thinks that I just gave up on fighting in court. (He doesn’t think that I’m actually paying my lawyer.) I can’t get into his mindset because I care too much about my children. The three weeks he took them and didn’t allow me contact with them I flipped out. My anxiety level was at an all-time high. I had panic-attacks and I seriously flipped the FUCK out. I’ve never been that way. Ever. My children are my life and not knowing exactly where they were, not having contact with them, threw me in a way I never thought possible.

And because of him I’m paranoid. Proof: my children stayed with my mother this past weekend. I had to call her on Saturday because I was flipping out because my children weren’t with me; I didn’t know how they were exactly. I knew they were alright, but I was flipping out. It was anxiety, near to a panic attack. Relate it to PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder), if you must – I know that’s the only thing I can relate it to similarly, though I know it’s not the same thing. What happened to me all those months ago has affected me for life. And it sucks.

But now he’s (my ex) not answering texts. He asked me to text him when it was a good time that him and the children could talk. I did. He never responded. That was weeks ago.

And now he’s not paying child support.

I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if it’s accidental or not. I mean, I moved; what if because I moved the child support stuff is all blah. Oh, but wait… then¬†I wouldn’t have gotten last month. Or the month before. Right?

So what’s going on?

I’m so confused. And scared. And anxious. Slightly paranoid.

I just want all of this to be over. All of the problems and issues. I want all of it gone. I know it never will be; I’m stuck with that man for life until the children are grown up, and even then, probably not even.

Hopes, wishes, and dreams abound. I just want everything to be well and good again.

Stable is good. ūüôā

During Work He Does What?

Ok. So I’m not¬† complaining, but I just don’t understand how this could happen.

My ex-husband moved out of state over 6 months ago and I’ve little-to-no contact with him since, other than what was required. I’m still “friends”, so to speak, with him on facebook so I see what’s going on in his life and whatnot.

He works everyday. Well, every weekday. He works 8AM-5PM, with normal overtime. He has some sort of computer job; not sure exactly what he does. :-/

Anyway, here’s the kicker.

Everyday, he’s posting on facebook between the hours of 8AM and 5PM.

But not only that, he’s also posting, many more times, on his tumblr account.

Oh, and he gets on his online dating site that he brags about being on.

All during the hours of 8AM and 5PM, his work hours.

What I don’t get is how his employers don’t know that he’s using their computers, their internet, to get online and do whatever the f**k he wants. From what I’ve gathered from his facebook account, he does the same thing afterwork too: posting on facebook, tumblr, and getting on the online dating site. So is he even doing any work at all? Is he even earning his almost $100k/yr pay?

My answer: probably not.

Unfortunately, I can’t prove it and it’ll be considered heresy – the whole “he said, she said”, even if I print-screened things from all of the sites.

*Le sigh* Sometimes, life just is not fair.

My Mother and I

I have a complicated relationship with my mother. That’s putting it lightly.

At this point I’ve put the past in the past, where it belongs. There are times when I have start dwelling on what has happened and who to believe: the rest of my family or her? Then I realize that it doesn’t matter because it’s over and done with. What matters is what she and every other person in my life chooses to do now – how to handle their own life and how much they want to be involved in mine, whether they truly want to help me or they don’t. I can’t make those decisions for them.

But it all comes back to my mother.

From the time I moved out with my [now] ex-husband, she was one of the few people to support me even if she wasn’t fond of him. I was happy about that. She told me how she felt and she was honest; she didn’t hide from me the fact that she didn’t like him. It’s the fact that she still helped me when I was pregnant and inbetween homes, when everyone else was proven right that he was an a**hole and they wanted to shove it in my face.

She helped me. Then.

Two years later I’m living on my own an hour away from her and she’s still the one that I talk to the most out of my family and still the one that I see the most out of my family. She’s still the one that is most willing to help me when times get tough and something comes up suddenly. She’s my mother; mother’s do that kind of thing.

But she didn’t when I was growing up. She was never there. Ever.

She’s told me that she’s trying to make up for it. It honestly seems like she is. There’s just one problem.

My mother’s letting me stepfather influence her too much. I’m not sure if it’s consciously or subconsciously or if it’s because she’s been with him for so many years, but it’s happening. I have proof. It’s this proof that hurt me the most.

Those months ago, earlier this year, when my ex took my children for three weeks and I panicked because I had no idea where they were, just a vague idea,¬†and he wasn’t allowing contact? That’s when it happened. On the second day after he finally fessed up that he wasn’t bringing them back like he said he would I finally told my mother. She told me to calm down and basically go through every thing that I already had. She said she would wait a day or two to tell my stepfather. My mom was on my side. She thought that what I was doing was right, especially since I had already spoken to my lawyer and was calling him everyday to try and get something done. She was proud of me, though not half as anxious.

Those two days went by fast. I kept my mother up-to-date with what was going on. One day, mid-afternoon, my cell phone rang. It was my mother. She told me that she’d told my stepfather the night before and then she started in on me about how I needed to “get something done to get your kids back”.

Because I wasn’t trying to do that?! Seriously?!

She kept yelling and ranting at me through the phone. She had switched sides, from being completely on my side to completely agreeing with whatever my stepfather said. What’s sad is that within the past night and earlier in the day I had just been discussing that I thought my mother would do that.

It hurt. It hurt a lot.

It was bad enough that I was so anxious that I couldn’t be in the house by myself, I was restless so I was constantly walking, I’d had multiple panic/anxiety attacks and I wasn’t able to¬†even GLANCE¬†at children without bursting into tears.

And she had the nerve to tell me, as a message from my stepfather, that what I was doing wasn’t enough, was wrong, and I needed to do more and not to listen to my lawyer?!

I love my mother, but F*CK THAT!

It was the first and only time it had happened in my life, but I just lost it. I started yelling and screaming at the top of my lungs into my phone at my mother. I don’t remember everything I said. I couldn’t control what I said. Every word that came out of my mouth was exactly what was on my mind and how I was feeling. I had snapped.

That had never happened to me before. Nobody previously and nobody since then has gotten me that worked up.

I know this: I told her that my stepfather was just that – my stepfather, and that he had no right to tell me what to do. That I was an adult and I didn’t care if she was my mother she couldn’t make my decisions for me. He wasn’t my father, he’s never been my father, and he’s never tried to act like my father so he needed to just shut the f*ck up.

And that was just the part that I can remember. I ranted at my mother for a good five minutes. And then I hung up on her without letting her say anything. And didn’t answer any calls from her house for a week. The only communication would be if something came up having to do with my children, and even then I was emotionless and stayed on the phone for as short a period as possible.

And I don’t think she realizes what she’s doing. What she did. I don’t think she realized how much she hurt me.

Unfortunately, nothing about this changes the fact that I love my mother. No matter how shitty she may treat me. It’s like I’m in an abusive relationship and I just keep coming back for more. I don’t understand why I do even though I know how I’m going to be treated and that I’ll never reach any sort of approval in her eyes.

I’m the child she didn’t want. At least, that’s my assumption.

When I was pregnant, right after I left my ex-husband, my mother and stepfather asked me two questions: “Is it yours?” and “Are you going to keep it?”

My mother was in almost the exact situation with me and she kept me.

That hurt too.

I don’t think she realizes that, unlike the rest of my family, I don’t hold grudges. I just keep memories. I will remember. I will never forget. Ever.

But I won’t hold it against her. I love my mother.