I signed my marriage away today… not that I had much of a choice mind you. He had been the one to file, he had been the one who started the subterfuge and sabotage more than three years ago. It had become apparent as he tried to accuse me and and people perjured themselves and all sorts of wonderfulness that he had been planning this, or at least someone had been guiding the planning of this, for a long time.
This last month, though… this last month, when he tried to bury me alive under incomplete financial records in what was probably an attempt to be an overwhelming jack ass to get his way… that’s when I saw it… the 03/2016 date stamp of the first concrete step he took towards, not only the dissolution of our marriage, but the screwing over of myself financially, emotionally, psychologically, not to mention the trauma our kids underwent that he then tried to claim was all my fault and the reason why he should have sole custody.
I COULD have a forensic accountant go through all the records, I COULD drag this to trial, I COULD do this, I COULD do that, but in the end he’s not worth it. And that might very well have been his end game, to make himself so full of bullshit that I’d be willing to pay him to stop traumatizing the kids and I to the utmost extent I could facilitate. Maybe. If that was his goal, he succeeded in being a deplorable human being, congrats. The kids are finally safe EVERY DAY, not just until daddy comes home. For right now anyways while they’re out of reach.
The emotional bullshit he tries to pull with them just on the phone is ridiculous. I am trying to raise them to discern the truth. That is what will serve them best in this situation. That and to know that they are loved, that none of this was their faults. I tell them that I love them, no matter what. I encourage their emotional intelligence and their creativity and their brilliant individuality. At least, that’s how I’m trying to raise them.
The people who see me every day, family and friends, the people who see me every day without knowing the backstory, too, they all see us getting happier and happier as the days go by. We still have days where we miss people and such, but we are healing and life is continuing on.
No matter how far I move on, I can’t imagine ever not loving the man I married… but, truth be told, I’ve been mourning his loss for even longer than my ex-husband was planning his divorce. I miss the man who was an adolescent friend in school, an on and off again crush, the guy I would go to in my attempts to figure out why guys were such jerks and cry on when I was heartbroken.
Funny thing, he tried to be that for me after the first time he served me papers… yes, there were two divorces within 30 days of each other, probably less… much less… I had been crying, and crying, and he wanted to talk to me, to comfort me, and I told him “you did this to me, you don’t get to make it better”… and it hurt so much to say, not to him so much, but to myself. I COULD be weak and sleep with him like he wanted while we went through our divorce, I COULD act like nothing had changed despite the fact that we weren’t married anymore, I COULD have have buried my head in the sand again in an attempt to just make things “easier” for him so long as it meant less conflict for the kids… but I could have protected my kids and I in the scariest way possible and left before he went from crazy to butt-ton-bonkers.
These and so many other thoughts ran through my head while initialing that huge stack of papers. Comments from my doctors, yes-multiple doctors, about how I always seemed healthier when he was gone flitted in and out as well…
I cried, I cried in anguish, I cried in mourning, and I cried from betrayal, I cried from the hurt, I cried because I had been right about the toxic people I fought to keep out of our lives who kept poisoning our family, and I cried without knowing why, I even cried when I didn’t feel anything at all, just the tears streaming down my face.
I wonder… if any of it was true.
I wonder… if he could lie so well for so long… were not just our nine years of marriage a lie but also the ten years of friendship before that.
I wonder… if my health hadn’t failed so utterly when it did, would he still have filed for divorce or would he have thought I was useful enough to keep on using for a couple more years.
And I wonder… perhaps… that was the method to the madness, that the control over my life that I had been given had been given to someone unworthy, and so that control was taken back in the form of my health to help save me from something worse than a slow death… an atrophied life.
I’m not wondering about what life hold from here on out, I’m just getting through today. I don’t want to go through any of this again. I don’t want to go through even the hope of any of the good times before the bad times again.
In the quiet moments, when I wake up shaking from dreams where he’s my wonderful, loving husband again who held me through so many nightmares, I cry, and I miss him… but I miss the him he was before the him he is now. I miss the man who fought his demons instead of letting them steamroll him. And he’s gone. And that is probably the part of all of this that really, truly, hurts the most.
He’s gone. And while the military and the associated stresses probably did have something to do with it, the true culprit is the person who should have had his back the most instead of her own interests and control games as priority. She has helped destroy two of his marriages, totally screw with his mind, and encourage a delusional and narcissistic peter pan who is afraid to be his own man for fear of losing his mommy’s pat on the head for a job well done.