So what to do now.
Apr. 7th, 2013 09:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bloodsong1I know I need to purge, to go through the catharsis of processing and accepting the feelings of betrayal and anger and resentment. But I really don't know how.
I would love to call someone who saw what I went through and bitch for a while, but the only person I still talk to is Maternal Unit and, well, she's part of the problem. She betrayed me during the divorce process, going on and on about how she was right and I should have listened to her and see? I told you so! Gods, I heard that for a solid WEEK after I moved back in with them. Not by choice, believe me. The friend I had ran to didn't want to deal with me and mine and since she was the only friend I had at the time, my only other choice was a shelter and I didn't want to be homeless with an infant. So I went back to my parents. Who informed me that they were still going to Disney World with my brother, as they had been planning the trip for a year, and thanks for being free house sitting, don't find work until we get back and oh yes, no boys.
I am not kidding. No Boys. I was 21 and had a six month old son. No Boys.
Gods, it still pisses me off. I wasn't some stupid teenager who got knocked up by her boyfriend. I did everything right. I got married. I got pregnant six months after the wedding. I even followed the stupid rhythm method, with the addition of condoms. I was a good little Catholic girl and what did it get me? Divorced and with a child. A child I ran with because my husband threatened to shake him. SHAKE HIM.
It doesn't help that I married in full but denied knowledge I was making a mistake. I had the naive hope that the abusiveness I had already seen and my mother kept pointing out to me could be fixed. Hells, I tried to break the engagement TWICE and he still talked me back into it. I wanted out of my mother's influence and didn't have the money to support myself, but a married couple could afford an apartment. I remember sitting on those damned steps to the cathedral's basement hall, my heart pounding, seeking reassurance that my fears were unfounded and this relationship would magically work out by the Power of Love.
I didn't trust him. Less then a year into the marriage, I'm walking up the stairs to our apartment behind him, four months pregnant, and wishing he would just turn around and punch me so I could then turn around and leave. I had been shouted at and ignored and threatened with violence, but that wasn't enough justification for me to pack up and leave. I needed physical proof so I could go "See? This is what he did. This is why I left." If he had hit me, maybe my mother would be a little more sympathetic and help me instead of insult me and crow from her high moral ground. For a little while I even considered putting IDK up for adoption after he was born because we were poor, but not poor enough for state aid. (CO has one of the lowest sales taxes of the country, which is great for business but lousy for public works like busses, DMVs and welfare. I will never complain about NY taxes!)
So. I was betrayed by my husband, who wasn't interested in changing his abusive ways and I was betrayed by my mother, who insisted on keeping track of what she spent on IDK when I wasn't working (CO job market SUCKED, I kept getting temp jobs that only lasted a few months) so I could pay her back. She's the grandmother and she wants me to pay her back for food, diapers and clothes because, hey, she's not charging rent and oh yes, make sure you do your fair share of chores around the house. And no, she's not going to babysit at the drop of a hat, you make an appointment and be home before midnight and don't use the phone after ten pm in case your father needs to call from his night shift.
I think my mother's behavior hurt more the the ex husband's. There was no sympathy, no hugs and whispered "I'm sorry you went through that, good for you for getting out before someone got hurt". It was all "I told you so" and "Now that you're living with us, young lady, you will abide by these rules." Rules that were reasonable for a high school student, not so much for a 20something who was trying to put her life back together.
I still haven't forgiven her for those six months I lived there. I didn't leave under good circumstances, she wanted 30 days notice and I gave her two and asked that they pack up my stuff because I was working and wouldn't have the time. I moved into a bachelor house and caused all kinds of problems that weren't resolved until I left, which was only a few months, as I was waiting for tax return money. It was during that time that my Camelot happened and I was shunned by EVERYONE in that social circle for destroying a 20+ year old friendship. To this day I cannot stand to watch any version of Arthur, Gwenavere(or however it's spelled), Merlin and Lancelot. I have had an entire room of people literally turn their backs on me. That is a powerful, humbling experience.
I still haven't forgiven the ex for his continued betrayal by going underground and not paying child support for a grand total of about 7 years, give or take a few months. He pissed off the judge and got hit with a massive amount. That was reduced by half last year because he had been out of work for a while and I was still at the shop and making good money. I was a little upset, but I didn't contest the decision. I did and continue to see child support as an unexpected blessing. I never count on it because he was so unreliable for the first nine years.
Well, okay. Now I've bitched. This really doesn't help much. The emotions are waiting to be expressed. Maybe I will have a good cry in SNB's arms.
In the meantime, I'm going to play more Starcraft. I'm into the third or fourth mission of the Protoss segment. I hate the Protoss. They're expensive, their units aren't as useful and they take forever to process buildings and fighting forces. The only good thing is you don't need as many base units. Probes can start warping in four buildings in four seconds and then go back to mining. It's the waiting for the buildings that's the hard part.
I would love to call someone who saw what I went through and bitch for a while, but the only person I still talk to is Maternal Unit and, well, she's part of the problem. She betrayed me during the divorce process, going on and on about how she was right and I should have listened to her and see? I told you so! Gods, I heard that for a solid WEEK after I moved back in with them. Not by choice, believe me. The friend I had ran to didn't want to deal with me and mine and since she was the only friend I had at the time, my only other choice was a shelter and I didn't want to be homeless with an infant. So I went back to my parents. Who informed me that they were still going to Disney World with my brother, as they had been planning the trip for a year, and thanks for being free house sitting, don't find work until we get back and oh yes, no boys.
I am not kidding. No Boys. I was 21 and had a six month old son. No Boys.
Gods, it still pisses me off. I wasn't some stupid teenager who got knocked up by her boyfriend. I did everything right. I got married. I got pregnant six months after the wedding. I even followed the stupid rhythm method, with the addition of condoms. I was a good little Catholic girl and what did it get me? Divorced and with a child. A child I ran with because my husband threatened to shake him. SHAKE HIM.
It doesn't help that I married in full but denied knowledge I was making a mistake. I had the naive hope that the abusiveness I had already seen and my mother kept pointing out to me could be fixed. Hells, I tried to break the engagement TWICE and he still talked me back into it. I wanted out of my mother's influence and didn't have the money to support myself, but a married couple could afford an apartment. I remember sitting on those damned steps to the cathedral's basement hall, my heart pounding, seeking reassurance that my fears were unfounded and this relationship would magically work out by the Power of Love.
I didn't trust him. Less then a year into the marriage, I'm walking up the stairs to our apartment behind him, four months pregnant, and wishing he would just turn around and punch me so I could then turn around and leave. I had been shouted at and ignored and threatened with violence, but that wasn't enough justification for me to pack up and leave. I needed physical proof so I could go "See? This is what he did. This is why I left." If he had hit me, maybe my mother would be a little more sympathetic and help me instead of insult me and crow from her high moral ground. For a little while I even considered putting IDK up for adoption after he was born because we were poor, but not poor enough for state aid. (CO has one of the lowest sales taxes of the country, which is great for business but lousy for public works like busses, DMVs and welfare. I will never complain about NY taxes!)
So. I was betrayed by my husband, who wasn't interested in changing his abusive ways and I was betrayed by my mother, who insisted on keeping track of what she spent on IDK when I wasn't working (CO job market SUCKED, I kept getting temp jobs that only lasted a few months) so I could pay her back. She's the grandmother and she wants me to pay her back for food, diapers and clothes because, hey, she's not charging rent and oh yes, make sure you do your fair share of chores around the house. And no, she's not going to babysit at the drop of a hat, you make an appointment and be home before midnight and don't use the phone after ten pm in case your father needs to call from his night shift.
I think my mother's behavior hurt more the the ex husband's. There was no sympathy, no hugs and whispered "I'm sorry you went through that, good for you for getting out before someone got hurt". It was all "I told you so" and "Now that you're living with us, young lady, you will abide by these rules." Rules that were reasonable for a high school student, not so much for a 20something who was trying to put her life back together.
I still haven't forgiven her for those six months I lived there. I didn't leave under good circumstances, she wanted 30 days notice and I gave her two and asked that they pack up my stuff because I was working and wouldn't have the time. I moved into a bachelor house and caused all kinds of problems that weren't resolved until I left, which was only a few months, as I was waiting for tax return money. It was during that time that my Camelot happened and I was shunned by EVERYONE in that social circle for destroying a 20+ year old friendship. To this day I cannot stand to watch any version of Arthur, Gwenavere(or however it's spelled), Merlin and Lancelot. I have had an entire room of people literally turn their backs on me. That is a powerful, humbling experience.
I still haven't forgiven the ex for his continued betrayal by going underground and not paying child support for a grand total of about 7 years, give or take a few months. He pissed off the judge and got hit with a massive amount. That was reduced by half last year because he had been out of work for a while and I was still at the shop and making good money. I was a little upset, but I didn't contest the decision. I did and continue to see child support as an unexpected blessing. I never count on it because he was so unreliable for the first nine years.
Well, okay. Now I've bitched. This really doesn't help much. The emotions are waiting to be expressed. Maybe I will have a good cry in SNB's arms.
In the meantime, I'm going to play more Starcraft. I'm into the third or fourth mission of the Protoss segment. I hate the Protoss. They're expensive, their units aren't as useful and they take forever to process buildings and fighting forces. The only good thing is you don't need as many base units. Probes can start warping in four buildings in four seconds and then go back to mining. It's the waiting for the buildings that's the hard part.
