Rough

I’m having a shit day. It’s been building over the last few days – 5 to be exact.

Five days of Impeachment Hearings.

I tried to write a lengthy, eloquent piece that sounded intelligent and unemotional, but here’s the reality…

I am TRIGGERED beyond imagination. Hugely so. Hide under the covers all day so.

Because I am reliving my ten-year divorce by watching a narcissistic sociopath get away with bullying, manipulation, dishonesty, and abuse, yet again.

I am angry and frustrated and disheartened. It hurts so badly.

I had hope when we won the election. And I am grateful that we did. But it doesn’t matter right now. That doesn’t erase the despondency that is taking over my heart and soul.

Because a win here and there doesn’t last. It doesn’t mean that anything will change. In my experience, it only amps things up, makes the sociopath that much more determined to get his way.

Regardless of who is destroyed in the process.

My children.

It makes them more determined to crush the opponent.

Me.

I spent thousands of dollars (many of them my father’s dollars) trying to get him to play by the rules. THREE different attorneys, TEN separate court hearings…post-divorce.

Boxes upon boxes of paperwork: beligerent emails, threatening texts, personal attacks, blatent lies, contradictions, disregard for the rules.

He was found guilty of comtempt of court on three counts and only got a “Mr. X, you really shouldn’t do that.”

No matter how much proof I had, no matter how many bleeding battle scars I showed, no matter how much he pissed off the judge in the courtroom, no matter how many court orders were in place,

he still did exactly what he wanted.

AND GOT AWAY WITH IT.

Over and over.

One of the things I hated was some of the blind loyalty to him that I saw. Hearing, “Aw, he’s not such a bad guy…” or worse, “He only wants what’s best for his children…” sent me into apoplectic shutdown.

My world was under constant attack. My mental and physical well-being were threatened. Always. My children were being hurt in ways too big to accept.

I was fighting for peace and my sanity and safety for my children. I was fighting to breathe.

I experienced the hatred and insanity and self-serving cruelty that this man was gleefully choosing to inflict upon me and my boys…with absolutely no repercussions except for a slap on the wrist and a court order giving me full custody which he promptly ignored.

Rules never applied to him. At one point in our relationship I thought that was exciting and edgy. Stupid me.

The few battles that I did win – like full time residence and 100% decision making – made me feel hopeful in the moment, but what does a piece of paper mean to someone who would use it to wipe their ass rather than adhere to it?

He just chose different battles, different tactics, different, more elaborate attacks.

The dread I feel, the anxiety, the grief, when I am listening to the impeachment arguments presented brings about one thought, “It doesn’t matter what the proof, what horrors we have all experienced, how blatant his actions, how absolutely WRONG this all is,

Because he’s going to get away with it.

Again.”

And I am sickened and scared and so so sad and desperately hopeless.

Again.

Living through the years of torture and abuse nearly broke me. I suffered such deep trauma and pain and fear. Facing it now, along with millions of people who are also suffering the abuse and the lies and the total disregard for human decency, feels so final because I understand the futility of fighting against it.

If the judge had brought the hammer down on my ex’s head and made him pay some sort of price for his contempt, it may have changed things for me and for my children. But the judge letting him get away with that gave him the green light to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, knowing that he could.

He continued to abuse and torment and manipulate and FUCK WITH us for years. In reality, he still does, because he’s never been told he can’t. Because no one ever stood up to him but me.

And we all saw how well that worked.

I’m sorry, this isn’t written well.

I am a wreck.

2 thoughts on “Rough

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