Sunday, June 26, 2011

Disappointment/A Ship in the Fog

Well, it's been three weeks that I've been at my Mother's house. It hasn't been as bad as I thought it would be, I've achieved early on a lot of the things that I needed to do in order to get the necessary assistance to keep Steven's therapy going, us fed, and the other things in order that we will need. Eventually we will probably need to go into a shelter, but that is further down the line, and I will know more of what the Lord expects of me at that time. I try not to let the fear of the future eat me alive; I pray when I get anxious.

Perhaps it's not the best quality to have, perhaps it will end up causing me a lot of grief, but I honestly try to be a fair woman. Despite my differences with Steve, and even my fear of the man, I sense somewhere deep inside me that he does love his son, and have let him keep him the past two weekends with the condition that he would not drink. As of this moment, after looking at what was our bank account (I still have access), I'm not sure if he kept his promise. I have to admit that I'm very disappointed at that, but at the same time resigned. If this man has indeed lied to me, and if all that he has been telling me about wanting to heal has simply been words to lure me, then he is indeed as sick and demented as I have feared, and I must let him go. I trust that God will provide me with the strength to raise my son alone, He has already provided me with many resources to help Steven with his developmental delays, and for these things and people I am grateful. They are a huge help. This week I have felt an increase in my strength, and perhaps that is due to the lessening of stress in my life. Perhaps I won't have to go on disability, perhaps I will be able to work. Who knows? We shall see. Whatever the situation, I know it will work out.

Steve is vacating our old apartment and moving home to his parents. They now hate me, as does his wife (he's STILL not divorced, the date that he was to have his final decree was the date I had a seizure and had to go to the hospital...and he hasn't bothered to schedule another...or even save for the fee), and probably his daughters do too. Outside of the abuse that I've had to endure due to his frustration over his life and issues, the fact that these people show me such animosity over things that I just got caught up in but did not cause is a huge reason why I cannot continue a relationship with Steve. It doesn't matter how much we could be in love, I'd still have to deal with all of them. And their poison would spill over into our home life. I cannot do that to my son.

I know that when Steve moves home to his parents, his sense of worthlessness and victimization will increase, and his mother (who is his enabler) will help to exacerbate that, but she doesn't want to admit that she is the main reason why her son started drinking at 15. Rather, she will continue to blame the black women that her son is attracted to (the opposite of her). I told him to remember that the main reason why we moved in together in such haste (despite my misgivings) was because she was going to "drive him to the shelter" 3-and-a-half years ago. I told him to keep that in mind when she was trashing me over dinner. And to remember that my son would never set foot in that house again. I wouldn't put kidnapping past that old biddy.

I don't know what the future holds for him, I don't know what the future holds for me. But what I do know, is that while the seas may get rough for me and Little Man, I have my faith to steer my ship. Steve has no such thing and no willingness to develop such a thing. He has no desire to change his thought patterns, no desire to examine his life. I fear that in a year's time, he will either be in jail because he failed to complete the terms of his probation (and that will be my fault...after all I should never have called the cops after the first death threat, how dare I?), or he will be barely hanging on, drinking himself numb at night. Either way, I cannot expose my son to that. I will not.

I know his illustrious mother will not understand this, but if she pushes me, I will make her understand that her son is the monster that she made, and that my son will grow up to be no such thing.

Monday, June 20, 2011

It's Over/New Beginnings

I would say that I'm a single mother, but I think that I've been one for quite a long time least since my son was two months old, and his father thought it was time for him to start sleeping through the night again.

Well, the fight that occurred over two weeks ago was the last one for me, and Fairfax County Police have failed to do their job for the last time, so Steven and I are refugees. I'm at my Mom's house, which is not where I want to be, but it's a necessary evil for now. Big Steve and I are on speaking terms, but that's just because I despise his wife and refuse to be like her, and am determined to be the bigger person, the Christian Woman that I've been suppressing through all of this, and a thorn in his mother's side (cow...excuse me, Lord...but she is a cow).

I warned Steve when he was pursuing me that I didn't think it wise to date because of my health, and he assured me that he would care for me. I was so lonely and scared that I fell for it. My family has not been there for me throughout any of this in any way, and I find my health faltering more and more as the years pass. Now I find out that I have a seizure disorder, just hauling my butt up and down the steps is hard, and I have to file for disability. I pray every day that it goes through this time. Please pray with me...if you pray. If not, just send some good vibes my way. I've been to the ER upwards of 100 times over the past four years, and it turns out every one of those visits minus about five were due to seizures. I've been hospitalized twice in the past two months alone because of it, this past month having blacked out for 3.5 hours straight. I can't keep going through this with a toddler.

I think all the lights went out in the proverbial house when Steve told me I was incapable. Hell no, I'm not. I'm stronger than people think I am. I showed my vulnerability because I thought it was okay to do so, but I've spent my entire life holding back tears, because I was raised around a person who beat weakness. She still feels that her problems are supreme, and though I don't take any more mess from her, I don't let her see my pain. I take my issues to God, and it's much more effective anyway. But he plucked my pride that day, standing there drunk telling me that the reason why he was throwing at tantrum was because he was so worried about me. Yeah. Whatever.

But honestly...I pity him. I may not have my life together the way I want it to, but at least I have the faith that I can get it there. I know things are going to work out. Steve does not have faith in anything. He speaks negativity into his life constantly, and doesn't understand why things suck so much for him. Not to mention his mom, she has contributed so much to his downfall. Yes, his wife cheated on him, stole his identity and brainwashed his kids, but join the single dad's club, dude! Men across America are going through the same thing, and they don't just lay down and take it. I'll never forget the night that Steve "told" me about his situation when we were first dating. We were in Outback Steakhouse. He said to me that he had daughters and asked me if I could handle that. It was 1.5 years into this mess before just about everything spilled out, and with each new revelation, more and more of his anger revealed itself too.

In all of my relationships with men, there has been some element of neglect, and recently abuse. I can't stand for that anymore. My dad didn't feel that it was necessary to be accountable to me, to show up when he said he would, to be honest with me, and ultimately to be there for me. I thought in my youth that I had to use my body to make a man love me. I had one man tell me that he couldn't be with me because I wasn't where he thought I should be in my career (ah, the look on his face when he saw me pregnant with my son...that was hilarious). And to be told by Steve that all I wanted to do was control him, and that to treat me decently would be to unman him. Well keep your manhood, dude.

I have a very long and difficult road ahead of me. I didn't want to come to my mother's house. But apparently in Fairfax County, the shelters have hours of operation, not to mention the cops are effing inept. And I told them that to their faces as they ejected me from MY HOUSE. "We can't make him leave because he's on the lease, but we would advise you to go, ma'am. For your safety." As I left, I told the cops that they were damn good at giving tickets, but absolutely useless at protecting women and children. And every time I see one of those blue cop cars with one of their arrogant occupants, I throw up in my mouth a little bit. I honestly do. From here, I will have to go into a shelter in order to get housing, because I will most likely be on disability before the end of the year. I simply cannot work right now. I am in constant pain, and have no energy whatsoever. My neurologist is tweaking my anti-seizure medication, and I have to get another MRI to determine whether or not I have a lesion on my brain. I shudder to think about the possibility of surgery.

Steven's life is a whole other story. He starts school in September to help him with his development. He won't even have turned three yet. He's talking a little bit more, but he's hesitant with it. He told me he loved me the other day, it had me on cloud nine all day. He has speech therapy now, and I have the county all in my business at this point with all the help I'm going to need to get on my own and keep services going for him. But for him I'd do anything.

Like I said earlier, his father and I are on speaking terms. I think deep inside Steve realizes that he and I are not compatible. He also realizes that he has problems. He also realizes that his life is messed up and needs fixing. I am hesitant, but I let him see his son. Partially because I need a break from time to time, but partially because I know that child is a lifeline for him. But I've made it clear that if he drinks around him I'll paint the walls of that apartment with his blood. I think he believes me. Steve accepts that I will call several times a day and that I demand pictures and updates by text until my trust is established, and it does help that the baby is five minutes away. Still, this past weekend was the first weekend Steve kept him, and I cried and prayed the whole time. But baby came home happy and none the worse for wear. When I dropped him off, he ran into the house, the place he's known as home since birth and didn't even notice me leave. When Steve dropped him off he squealed at delight over seeing me. I feel like Little Man's parents need to love him more than they may dislike each other, and distance definitely deflates animosity. Actually, I pity Steve when I don't have to live with him. Living with him breeds hatred. Probably on both sides.

Living with Steve I had expectations, and Steve probably felt like he could never meet them. Not to mention, we had nothing in common, and I'm sure Steve felt intimidated by my intellect. Most people do, and I refuse to "dumb down" to make someone feel comfortable. I'm not arrogant, but forgive me if I like Tudor history, it's what I like. Leave me to my Renaissance fair, and you stick to TruTV. You like what you like, and I like what I like. Whatever.

It was honestly getting to the point where I was thinking that the only thing we had going for ourselves was that we could settle our debt, have a small wedding, and buy a house so he could be on one level, I could be on another, and our son could float between. What type of life is that? And every time we argued, Steven would start stimming so badly. He doesn't do that so much anymore, he's so happy. The joy of my son is the greatest reward of the past few weeks, no matter how afraid I may feel.

One immediate benefit of all of this is that I gain my spiritual life back. I don't intend to jump back into dating any time soon, but I've learned a lot in the past three years. I see now why you seek out people who share your beliefs and outlook on life. I found myself making so many concessions over the years until I suddenly didn't know who I was, I was angry and had lost track of all my interests and dreams. Strangely enough, I had written a song (first time since my father had died) that turned out to be prophetic in nature. Just a few days before my split with Steve. I thought it had nothing to do with us, but the lyrics rang true. It's called "Why Are You Hanging Around?" I was so thrilled that my muse had returned, not knowing what else was coming.

I look forward to the future. Of course I'm scared, but I want to return to who I was before all this happened. I want to be the mother my son deserves, and I want to be true to myself as well. I know that everything will work out, and though sometimes the feelings of fear and loneliness may overwhelm, I know they are temporary. I just pray on it and move on. Because nothing is worse than being stuck in that situation. I thought I was supposed to stay for my son, I went back for my son, after climbing out of the bedroom window at midnight with him in my arms. I think part of Steve thinks that this whole situation is just a repetition of last year, but he is wrong. I am done. I hope it sinks in gently for him, because one slip up and he will never see his son again. I don't want to be harsh, but I must protect my boy. HE is the most important thing now. I have to preserve my life and health for him, but it is his future that matters.