Today is June 9th. It was exactly two years ago that I left my ex. It was so long ago that it all seems a bit hazy now. It all seems so long ago, so unreal, like it was a horrible dream. But, the date is embedded in my mind, and I refuse to forget the events. It is, after all, a reminder to myself that I do have a backbone, that in the end, when the chips fell, I did do the right thing, and that everyone is capable of taking care of themselves...If they truly want to.
So, here it is- the story about June 9th. At this point, my ex had been diagnosed bi-polar, and he was refusing to go on his meds, despite my pleas. I had waited for him to come around, to change his mind, but that never happened. I stayed in the house, and in the marriage, hoping that he would eventually come to his senses and take his meds. I was delusional enough to allow myself to believe that if he went on the meds, everything would miraculously change...The temper, the abuse, the attitude, the employment problems, the spending. I thought wrong. Nothing changed. At the end of the day, it is just as hard to keep a bipolar man on his meds as it is to get him to start in the first place. They basically don't believe they need them, and you as their spouse will be confined to a lifetime of ups and downs as they go on and off their meds.
So, I got home that night around 6pm from the office. I came home and saw my son sitting in the kitchen reading a book. It was soccer night. I knew he shouldn't have been home at this time. My son was only 4 at the time.
"Honey- what are you doing at home? Don't you have soccer tonight?"
"Yes, but we're not going"
"Why not"
"Because I was bad and now my dad's mad"
"What? What did you do that was so bad?"
"I didn't eat dinner"
"Ok- so what did you do that was so bad?"
"I didn't eat dinner"
"That's it?
"Yes"
"OK- So what happened?"
"My dad got mad and tried to choke me"
"WHAT? Oh MY GOD!"
At that moment, I felt all the blood drain from my face. I could feel my heart beating so hard I thought I was going to pass out. I felt dizzy and nauseated. I was frozen and couldn't move. I looked up and saw my ex coming down the stairs....
"Shaz, baby I'm sorry..."
"Sorry? Sorry for what?"
"I didn't mean to...."
"To what? To what? To hurt my baby?!"
"Look, I stopped..."
"Stopped? Stopped before what? Almost killing him?"
"OK- I know you're mad...Look I'll go on the meds"
"It's too late..."
"No really, I'll go right now...And buy them..."
"It's really too late. I had ONE RULE. Just one. NEVER the children. You crossed the line with me too many times....But I told you- NEVER my babies. Today you hurt the babies. Today I leave..."
Everything else is really hazy. I remember running up the stairs, grabbing suitcases, and filling them with clothes from the closet. I remember grabbing handfuls of toiletries and throwing them in the suitcase. Toys, diapers, baby bottles, money, makeup, everything went in the suitcases. The whole while, my ex was in the background begging me not to go. I felt sorry for him, and at the same time, I felt intense responsibility to protect my babies. The sense of responsibility ruled over everything else.
An hour later, I had packed all my luggage into the SUV, had the kids strapped in the car, and I drove out of the driveway. I knew at that moment, that this was final. I was not coming back. I would go to my parents' house and tell them everything. I would tell them the truth. I would set myself, and the children free. Free from the abuse, free from the dysfunctional life, free from it all.
During the drive, my phone rang. It was my mother in law. Apparently my ex had called her and told her that I had left. She called me to 'talk some sense into me'. She told me that I was being too dramatic, that my ex said he would go on the meds, so what else did I want, that in her day, they beat their kids black and blue, and they turned out ok. That's when I stopped her. That's when I had my say. For the first time in 11 years, I had my say.
"How can you possibly say that they turned out OK? You raised an abusive man. That is not ok. And don't call me a drama queen. Don't call me anything at all. If you and everyone else could get rid of your paki mentality, maybe you would see what I'm going through. I am NOT coming back. This is OVER. And how dare you suggest that it's ok for me to subject myself and my children to further harm? Your whole family is in desperate need of therapy"
I have never been so rude to anyone in all my life. And a mother in law at that. But really- I was very emotional, and really furious at what I was hearing. In hindsight, I guess telling her that she had "paki" mentality was one way of burning a bridge. I had been respectful to her for 11 years. And I let it all out, all at once. How disrespectful. How stupid. How liberating.
I drove on to my parents home. Got to the front, pulled in the driveway, unloaded the luggage and rang the doorbell. My dad answered the door, looked at me, looked at the luggage, and asked where the kids were.
"They are in the car"
"I see..."
He called my brother, asked him to take my luggage to the guest room, and advised me to take the children and put them to bed.
"Then you come down and we will drink tea. You will get some sleep, and we will talk in the morning".
I did as he said. I spent that evening sitting with my dad, his arm around my shoulders, sipping tea, and not once being forced to talk about it. I love my family. Thank GOD for them.
The next morning, I called my boss. I told him what had happened, well at a high level, and told him I couldn't come into the office. He told me to take a few days and sort it out. That was blessing number two. Thank GOD for my boss. He is so understanding and awesome. I truly believe he is a large reason why I am doing so well today.
Then, I called a lawyer. I went to see the lawyer. I started legal proceedings for separation, custody, and division of assets. The next few weeks were comprised of legal meetings, court dates, and me running like chicken with its head cut off.
But I did it. I'm here. It's two years later. I have a home, a new and independent life. I have my health, I have my children, and most of all, I have my family and friends and those who love me close by.
Thank you all for your help and support. Thank you all for getting me here. Thank you all for saving me. God Bless.
3 comments:
It reminds so much of what happened to me in my childhood. My brother and I went through the same fear. I would pray EVERY evening that when my father came home from work/pub he would not be abusive to my mother. My prayers would sometimes come true but, most of time they would not.
There were many occasions that my intoxicated father would venture into my bedroom so that he could have a "talk" with me. I learned later that it was a better idea to pretend I was sleeping; so he would go away and fall asleep on the couch in front of the T.V. That did not work all the time though. Like a prehistoric predator, he would then go into my brother's room searching for new prey. When that would fail, he would go back for the easy pickings...my mother.
Abused mothers and children go through terrible torment. I learned so much from my father of how not to behave. I love my wife and child and would sooner kill myself than to be abusive to them in any way. After all, how can you say you "love" when you treat those dear to you with such contempt.
You are a very strong and courageous human being. Sometimes the hardest thing to do when a person has to go through a relationship like your own (and my Mother's) is to walk away.
Wow you are an amazing woman! It takes guts and a very very strong person to walk away from a relationship that is disfunctional much less a marriage with kids. I am happy you were able to make it work. You could have been stuck there and some day walked in to you or your kids last day. You see it so much on the news, I know you won't know how much respect and admiration I have for you but its always there. God bless you always and may more women have your courage and strength to leave before its too late.
Wow. Thanks Guys. Kiskidee, you're awesome, thanks for sharing your story. One of the reasons I started this blog was so that I could heal and so that others could heal with me. Thanks so much for being open.
And anonymous...thank you so much for the kind words. But as I've mentioned before, the courage and strength has truly come from the wonderful people around me. Thank you all.
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