My boys are seeing their father next week.
Not because he asked, but because I reached out and offered.
After a meditation last week, I was filled with such a great need to be free of this hatred, to let go of the anger and pain and the only way forward seemed to be to humanise the monster that broke me.
Yes, I am having second thoughts. I am worried about the effect of this on my mental health and on the boys.
I am further concerned that my ex-MIL has befriended my older son on FB. I don’t know who reached out to whom, but I don’t want that evil woman near my children. But then I question that and wonder, well, why are you allowing that evil man near your children?
I don’t know how this will turn out. I don’t know if it will help me in my healing. I don’t know if it’s a first step towards forgiveness, or me self-sabotaging myself.
I’ve been stuck emotionally for the last two years. I’ve seen psychologists, but I haven’t been able to move forward. I am stuck in a cycle of hatred, pain and grief. I am furious that everyone involved has been able to move on, to get on with their lives, to live comfortably, while I struggle here both emotionally and physically, living well below the poverty line and wondering how on earth this hell will ever end.
Today, I had this fantasy – what if I gave away all my possessions, asked the kids’s father to take them – furniture and all, and then just drove away with only what I could pack in the car?
There is no way I could do that. I could not abandon them. That would make me a hundred times worse than their father. And yet I don’t know how to make things better. Every job application ends in rejection. My business has stalled and I have no energy to do anything about it. I have a gas bill I can’t pay and $15 a fortnight in child support. The boys’ teeth need an orthodontist, but straight teeth might be a luxury they have to fund when they start earning money.
The funny things is that their father probably doesn’t even realise that he has done anything wrong. Ever. He has always been full of lies, explanations and excuses. Always blaming somebody else.
Oh, god, please help me let go of this. Or let me have some restitution. Let something go right.
My sister told me that I should demand an apology. How can you ask for an apology from someone who doesn’t think they’ve done anything wrong?
Lying, cheating, deception, manipulation by word and deed, abandonment, financial abuse – I haven’t forgotten any of it.
Why can’t I let it go?
Probably because it’s been such a long time since anything truly good happened.
But no. I had a good day on Thursday. I coffeed with one friend and lunched with others. There are lights in my life. I need to focus on those.
I’m doing this for me. And for the boys. They deserve to make their own decision about their father. They deserve to ask their questions of him, not me. They need to put a mirror up to him and let him see what he’s done.
You might like to read this. It’s a transcript of a talk I gave recently. It paints a rosier picture than this post and it is not false. When I look back at all I achieved, I know I’m not a complete loser.
I never imagined I could do this single parent thing, but here I am doing it. It’s hard as hell, but I’m doing it. No-one can take that away from me. They haven’t lived in my shoes, they haven’t fallen down with me and haven’t helped me to get up.
I am secretly afraid that the boys’ father and his mother will try and find fault with my parenting. That they will try to take the boys away from me. A tiny part of me is afraid that he might try to kidnap them. At least I know where he lives and I know that he’s unlikely to want to commit another crime.
And I want recognition. Recognition for what I’ve managed to achieve – alone. I’ve raised two good kids with no help from anyone. But I’m scared that they will put doubts in my head, like they always did. Somehow, I need to trust that I’m doing the right thing.
You know I have no filter when it comes to sharing my life. Another person might keep their mouth shut about all this and suffer in silence.
But I need to share with you where I’m at. I need the world to see that not everyone lives a sugar-coated life. I want YOU to know that you’re not alone. You’re not the only one in pain. You’re not the only one who is lonely, angry, or afraid. I want to reach out to you and hold your hand. I want to listen to you while you cry and hand you yet another box of tissues.
You are not alone.