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Emotional Roughage

Dealing with TheEx tonight… It’s always stressful. What’s worse is that he’s claiming the state seized a paycheck from a contract job he completed last week. We have not seen any of this money and have not been notified of this action and, as I speak with them at least weekly, I find it hard to believe that this event has indeed occurred. I can show him a screen capture of the account summary, no supposed seized check is listed as pending payment or what have you.

He hasn’t paid child support in almost two years and we have been hurting every month of those two years. Literally, living paycheck to paycheck, we supplement our groceries as best as we can. We’re growing as much as we can assuming I don’t kill it which, let’s face, houseplants and I have never had a good relationship. Our potatoes at least seem to be thriving as of yet but they’ve only been in the ground a few weeks… harvesting time is still months off.

It’d be nice to think he was telling the truth, but his track record is, how you say… terrible? The last time we discussed his dealings with the state he tried to tell me that he was doing everything in his power to cooperate with them and, yet, when I called my case worker just to be sure… again… of the situation, he had still refused to call their phone calls/voice messages back, show up for court hearings, contact them in any way much less work with them at al much less amicably as he suggested.

It’s all just such a huge clusterfuck of effort in refusal of being responsible. I’ve got to wonder, if that money wasn’t seized by the state, how long he has till his new wife figures out what’s going on. I still don’t know whether to think she’s an innocent in all this or an accessory, not that it matters but every so often I wonder.

Times are rough but not as rough as I have had things in the past. Working two jobs while pregnant with no transportation and averaging a week without food every month, that was super hard. Nevermind all the emotional and, come to realize years later, physical abuse I was undergoing.

I’ll never forget the look on that counselors face when I told her what happened most nights… she looked at me… horrified. That’s the only word I can think of to describe it. I had honestly thought that if I didn’t fight him off, full on bar fight fighting off, then it was consensual. It took a very long session, while my husband waited outside because I was too afraid to be alone but too afraid for him to hear what I had to be discussing, for me to even start realizing what had gone on. I had always kind of been damaged but at that point I was so damaged I couldn’t tell right from wrong, I guess. Not when it came to myself.

It took having a child for me to realize he/we/I deserved better.

One day, ChaosMonkey will understand these things. I don’t want him to but, for the sake of so many things, it is probably important that he does. That conversation(s) terrifies me. I see my son becoming a young man and so many conversation about respect, dating, love, sex, they’re all looming and among those are the discussion about procreation. Which will bring about those same old questions he has asked for so many years that he was, at the point, too young to talk about with. I don’t want him to know what his father was like… or may be like still behind closed doors.

There is so much wrapped up in all of this. You would think I would come to accept it and just expect TheEx to be a dishonest, manipulating, narcissist and give myself closure on it all. That would probably be the healthy thing. “If you know the dog bites, don’t be surprised when it does,” as my father is fond of saying. Have this annoying and probably unhealthy aptitude for naively believing people can change into better versions of themselves and anyone is capable of doing so. If you’re wondering if I’ve dealt with a lot of disappointment in my life, the answer is yes, but there have been some amazing miracles, too!

I guess I just needed to get all this out of my head before trying to sleep otherwise it was going to chase itself around like a dog with three prosthetic legs trying to get it’s own tail. Yeah, you just picture that for a minute… in my head… for hours… because that’s what my brain does instead of sleeping when this shit pops up.

Between counseling and my doctor I’m doing better with a couple things. We’re still trying to get my body healed up from all the freaking things that went batshit crazy stupid before/after my surgery. I just thank GOD that the surgery itself went fabulously… even if coming out of the anesthesia took a good six or seven times longer than they expected. That was really kind of scary… even in my unable to remain conscious state of mind I was terrified overtime they woke me up and I couldn’t stay awake. It was like drowning in my unconsciousness. Super scary.

Well, I think I’m all talked out now… which means I won’t be venting my husband to sleep… which means I won’t wake him up when I crawl into bed next to a very exhausted hubby who rides his bike 8 miles to work and 8 miles home every freaking weekday. Yes, he is that strapped… take it as you will… hehehe.

Good night, world. May you dream sweet things and focus on those healthy things you need in your life.


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