Rollercoaster of Love

Or not. It’s certainly not love anyway, though it is a rollercoaster. I thought that once we had broken up, things would settle, that I would find some peace, find my rhythm with my son, my job, my life. And for a while that was going ok. And then things started to get weird.

We had been seeing a family therapist for the last couple of years. She saw us as a couple, as parents, and all three of us individually. I used to call her when things were bad and we would have phone sessions. Appointments solo, together as a couple, with the kid, on the phone and online, she was OUR therapist.  Supposed to be helping us.

A few weeks back Sparky was with his dad for the weekend.  When he came home, I asked him if he had had a good weekend and what he had done.

“I don’t know” (typical first response).

“Well, what did you do on Friday?”

“Well, Ariana came to pick me up for gym and we went to her house for dinner”. “Oh really?” (Ariana is the therapist if that wasn’t totally clear).

“And what did you do on Saturday?”

“We went for breakfast with Ariana and then we went to the kids’ play place with Ariana and then we went for pizza with Ariana and then we went to the baseball game with Ariana.”

“Huh.  That sounds fun.” (Trying to hide the steam that must have been pouring from my ears).  ”And on Sunday?” (Dreading the answer at this point.)

“We had breakfast with Ariana and then we went to the beach club with Ariana and then we went to Ariana’s house for a barbecue.”

Well fuck me.  Of the millions of women in this city, he had to choose to fuck our family therapist.  And really really soon after our separation and in front of our kid who is now seeing his therapist kiss his daddy.  I really truly do not give a flying fig if he is seeing someone else, but not so soon in front of my kid and NOT MY DAMNED THERAPIST.

He just keeps turning the knife. He has told me that yes, they are dating and that I am crazy for having the opinion that there is something wrong with it.  He threatens me, threatens to call a lawyer and take our son.  He tried to cancel one of his days with him, I told him I had plans and that I would cancel.  I then got some balls and suggested that Sparky needed structure and routine and that perhaps he should cancel whatever he had deliberately scheduled on that day.  He found a twist, oh ho, told me that if I was too busy to take care of Sparky, perhaps he should have custody.  HE tried to cancel!

Anywho. The list of incidents go on.  He’s banging our couples counselor. He is threatening me.  And I feel like a huge giant ass for not seeing how ill he was, or at least not taking action and getting out sooner.

Ciao mis bellas

Awake

I feel like I am waking up from a long, fitful, not so refreshing sleep. Perhaps I was under some sort of spell, in sime ways sleepwalking through life performing the necessary deeds, even doing some incredible things, but deep down I was numb and lost and living with a mere dram of self worth and constant anxiety and depression and self doubt.

I take responsibility for allowing someone to affect me this way, to take away my confidence and independence. I watched it happen like it was from a distance, not even able to scream at myself “Run for your fucking life!” For seven years I lived with a cheater, liar and emotional abuser, someone who was never happy with anything and was angry at the world. Even knowing he wouldn’t be happy, I tried, I put myself out there time and again to be kicked like a dog in the street, simply seeking a glance and some affection. My tail would turn between my legs and I would cower and whimper away, only to return to try again.

Now I am trying to wag my tail. I am smiling fer reals and trying to regain my groove. Some positive things are happening and I am letting myself enjoy them instead of worrying that someone would ridicule the source of my happiness. I am on the mend, waking up and seeing the sunshine and smelling the coffee. I am intelligent, I am creative, I am funny and nice. I am remembering that I am actually a sexual being. Awake.

Today is a good day…..

Firsts

First night at Daddy’s new dungeon apartment, first night without daddy at home, first morning going to school and work without daddy, first night doing Spanish homework without daddy.  Not an easy few days for my little guy, and this headache tells me it wasn’t quite so easy for mommy either.

ExTwo has got himself some rotten new digs, but Spark seems to like hanging out there anyway.  He doesn’t see the mildew and dead bugs, just his daddy.  I noticed Ex had bought himself a frying pan.  He doesn’t have a stove.  Sigh.  I went and bought him a little electric burner, feel like a sucker for doing so but the need to be a caretaker is hard to kick.  Spark was ok over the weekend I guess, at least from Ex’s reports.  Last night was the first night going to sleep without daddy and there were some tears, but no real waterworks or breakdown.  Tonight was a little  harder, he was clutching a photo of Ex to his chest and sobbing, “I missssss Daaaaaaddyyyyy”.  We finally got settled down, he drew a picture of Ex’s new apartment (sigh) and curled up on the couch with me.

This morning on the other  hand, was a divine first.  Bliss.  Joy oh joy.  Celestial.  The first morning in I don’t know how many years where we got out of bed, got ready to go and there wasn’t a single scream or fight or blanket of tension around the coffee pot.   Spark and I smiled and sang as we got ready to go to school, it was like a damned Disney movie kind of fine.  I certainly prefer starting the day this way than to being yelled at because there was a dirty cup on the table and called lazy because I hadn’t done something the way he wanted me to do it.

Rolling down the windows and belting “You are my Sunshine” is not our usual Monday morning driving routine, but it felt like nirvana (no, not the grunge band from the 90′s).  We’re having a lot of firsts after this separation, I am going to keep it rolling with some great firsts, some firsts of my creation, firsts of positive actions and words and routines that will help us as we seek glee.  Tonight before bed I told Spark that we were starting a new tradition, that every night before bed we would name three reasons why we love each other or three things that happened in the day that made us happy.  I told him that I love him because he is funny, intelligent and kind to animals.  He said “I love you because…..because…..well, because I love you all the way to the sky!”  I didn’t push him for the other two reasons, that was enough for me.

An End/A Beginning

After seven years,  my relationship is over.  My second major break up, I met ExTwo after divorcing ExOne.  ExTwo is the father of my son, an tremendous child who didn’t deserve to live in a house of fighting any more.  There were no children from ExOne.  Thank god.  All my tears from my first divorce were for what I was losing, this time I’m crying for my kid.  Let’s call him Spark.  He adores his daddy, worships him, can’t stand to be away from him.  Separating him from daddy is killing me, but I just know it’s “for his own good” (didn’t you hate that expression from your parents?)  With ExTwo verbally and emotionally abusing me on a daily basis, all Spark was learning was disrespect and how to torture mommy.  I’m sure I’ll cover that territory on more than one occasion.

So, it’s four o’clock in the morning on a Saturday night, the first Saturday Spark is staying in ExTwo’s new digs.  New shithole to be honest.  He’s played the martyr card and set himself up in a dive studio with no windows and a thriving population of cockroaches.  Lips are sealed, I can’t say a thing but oh my it’s killing me not to.  I find I can’t sleep, thought “Hey, start a blog, that oughta put somebody to sleep, maybe you!”.  I promised myself to go to bed at 4, but I wanted to get rolling on this thing.  I’ll be back soon, hopefully somebody will be here reading my rants/whines/celebrations with me.