Wow, so much has happened in six weeks. I feel like I've been through hell and back -- but here I am, STILL STANDING!! Not only standing, but smiling. The past few weeks have brought trials, tears, fear, and heartache. I have been tested and failed. I have believed and been let down. I have put my trust in the wrong people and situations. However, at the end of it all, I can confidently say that I am better than I ever was before.
I think it would be easiest to start with where I AM, then go backwards and explain the events that have led up to it. Tomorrow, I am moving. Today, I had to replace all four tires because some psychotic maniac slashed them all. I guess we'll start with that, because that's the running theme throughout this blog.
So, over the past six weeks I went from deciding I would never speak to N again to letting him wear me down so I began to give in to renewing my conviction to keep him out of my life and encountering his wrath as a result. Allow me to explain.
I didn't want him in my life. I knew that all he would bring would be pain and lies, and any involvement with him was a waste of time. After all, I moved for a reason. I wanted to dedicate myself to my children and leave him in my dust. I stood firm...but then he began breaking into my apartment. I say breaking in, but he must have made a key or found some instrument to put into the lock, because I would hear it on the occasions that he would do this while I was sitting right in the living room. Sometimes, I would come home from work and he would be waiting -- sometimes hiding, sometimes not. Other times, I would be relaxing or trying to sleep in my living room, and in he would come. Of course, I loved him with all I had at one time. I was intimate with him, familiar with him. So although this behavior was totally crazy and unacceptable, it was hard not to gloss over it as if it were completely normal that he was in my apartment uninvited, refusing to leave.
I tried to fight back at first, and I was repaid for it by having my hair pulled, being slapped, thrown/pushed around, even spit on at one point in time. It was useless -- I couldn't make him leave no matter what I did, and the harder I tried, the worse it would be for me. I felt like a prisoner. Why didn't I call the cops? Well, when he followed me to my apartment and I tried to call the cops later that evening, all they did was give me attitude about waiting so long. I was emotional and fragile and couldn't deal with it, I felt like they didn't want to help me. I remembered the two times I tried to press charges for domestic assault when he had choked me, and how nothing was done because I had no proof. If I tried making a phone call while he was in my apartment, he would take my phone. After he left, I felt like there would be no point, since I couldn't prove anything. Eventually, I just came to resentfully endure his presence.
Then, I think something like Stockholm Syndrome set in. He was unwelcome, he forced and bullied his way back into my life, I was hanging out with him because I felt like I had no other choice -- but at some point, my delusional little mind started to think I was falling in love with him again. He almost got me. I was thinking I could keep the baby, we'd raise her together and be one happy family, and everything was going to be perfect. Things happened, though, and he couldn't keep his act up forever. Eventually, his true colors showed through and the spell was broken. I remembered why I had fled from him to begin with. I thought of all that I had gone through to get away from him, and told myself I'd be damned if I ever settled for that misery again in my life. I was a fool to let him suck me in, even for a second, because I know what he is and what he's about and it will NEVER be good enough for me.
He showed up last Sunday, just when I was getting ready for the sister circle. He wouldn't leave and I got very upset. When he went to go to the bathroom, I grabbed my phone from under the cushion and tried texting my daughter's dad to come over. I thought maybe he could help me get the point across to N. Well, N came out of the bathroom and I was holding my phone. He got mad, grabbed it, threw me down, and hit me in the face with my phone. Not hard -- it was really just a light tap on the cheek, but I was scared. He proceeded to go through my phone and read my texts, then started to post as me on my Facebook that I didn't want to give my baby up. My texts were talking about how he had broken in and I wanted to get rid of him.
He told me I was "fake" because I acted like everything was cool when he was around, but behind his back, I talked shit. Just because I don't make waves when you BREAK INTO MY APARTMENT and try to make the best of the situation does NOT mean you were welcome to begin with. If you were, you could have knocked, and I would have opened the door. The fact that you had to force your way in should tell you that I wanted you to keep out. Granted, I admit that I handled the situation badly. I should have called the cops. If I had known then what I know now, I most definitely would have. I guess I just didn't want to face things and hoped he'd eventually go away.
Then, Wednesday morning, I went to leave for work and he was standing outside of my apartment in a ski mask! Granted, I'm sure he thought that this was just a fantasy/role play type of situation, which maybe IF WE WERE TOGETHER, it may have been. But having just told him Sunday night to leave or I would have to take time off from work to get a PPO, and him promising I'd never see him again, this intrusion on Wednesday was most unwelcome. I was going to be late for work and he wouldn't leave. He made me promise I'd let him see me that night, and of course I agreed so I could leave. I had my daughter's dad wait with me that night in the apartment in case he showed up, but he never did. I thought I had a few days before he'd pull any more stupid shit. I was wrong.
The next morning, he did the SAME THING -- I think he planned on trying to have sex with me, but he was working with a limp noodle and gave up. He kept pulling my pants down and I kept pulling them back up, yelling at him to leave. Finally he gave up on THAT and asked me what I was going to do with the baby. I pointed at his face, in the ski mask. I said, "Look at you! Do you think THAT is what I want for a father for my baby???" Then he started to threaten to help my ex get custody of my son. That was the final straw for me.
Hurt me all you want, I probably won't do anything. I DIDN'T, did I? Never got a PPO, never even called the cops. But when you prove that you would try to make an innocent child suffer -- a child who LOVED you, despite the fact that you NEVER deserved it -- just because you aren't getting your way, you are officially a monster in my eyes. I know I'm not a perfect parent, but my son and I have such a precious bond. He loves no one like he loves me, and I'd lay down my life for him. I have fought for him since day one and always been in his corner. His father, on the other hand, has choked him, broken MY nose, neglected him, broken numerous promises to come see him, broken his little heart, let him down. His wife has a substantiated child abuse claim against my son for shoving a blanket in his mouth when he was crying so that he couldn't breathe. It breaks my heart, and it infuriates me that someone could be so vile as to have NO regard for this little boy that he would be willing to put him back in that situation. I know I've made mistakes as a mother, but I would NEVER hurt my son or allow anyone else to do that. That's why I spent $3,000 and battled in court to get full custody after I heard about the blanket incident -- to protect my son. Anyone that threatens his well-being is officially my enemy.
He left, I called the police. I had warned him time and time again that I would call the cops, and I guess he didn't believe me. But this was the LAST STRAW. They came and took my report, I went down to the YWCA, and they agreed to move me. This was Thursday. Friday night, I was staying at my daughter's dad's house and I woke up in the morning to find all of my tires slashed. I never thought he'd do anything like that, either. He was full of surprises. Somehow, I always believed that deep inside, he was a decent person. That he had limits, that there were some things he cared enough not to do. I judged him by my own standards -- I'd never wish harm on his children, or destroy his personal property just because I was angry. But I guess he isn't like me after all. He really IS heartless. That really made me sad, too. I always looked at him and saw the innocent little boy that he once was, and loved him as if he were still that little boy. I always thought his inner child was still there, just needing to be loved, needed to be understood. I thought I could be the one to heal his pain and slay his demons. I thought I could fix him.
I was wrong -- he was destroyed long ago.
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