Sunday, March 10, 2013

An "ugly" business...


I am getting a bit irritated as of late with the amount of people who refer to the dissolution of my marriage and the subsequent custody battle as an "ugly business." Look people, half of all marriages in this country end in divorce, and I readily admit that I did mine wrong. I did it for the wrong reasons, and I definitely should not have done it. But my motives were pure, as they are now, as I try to end this thing.

The thing that gets me is that people view my behavior, my attempts to keep my son safe from his addicted psychopathic father as "ugliness." Really? And the situation that would arise if I allowed this man to continue to treat us as property is not ugly? Would it be better for your sensibilities if I shut up and submitted, and continued to endure my pain (and watch my son suffer) behind closed doors?

Even the courts see my situation in two different legal lights. The protetive order that I have been forced to take out is a CIVIL MATTER. How in the hell?! How? You are seeking protection from someone who is obviously trying to kill you, but it's not a criminal matter off the bat? I don't get that, but I don't get a lot of things in this backwards country. Of course he will have his day in court for threatening me, and he will say he didn't do it, just like he didn't do it the first time. Or he will fall back on trusty old "I don't remember," and I'm sure I will damn near fall apart in that courtroom. But throughrout all of this, there is this belief that I should still allow him to see my child. I did so, even after I went and reported to the police that he had threatened me. Why? Because domestic violence is not seen as an outright assault on the children. To me, when you raise your hand or your voice to your spouse, you are simultaneously abusing your children, because they have to watch...and due to the fact that YOU THE PARENT are their foundation, and the base of all they see themselves to be, they will blame themselves when you fuck up.

So why is it that a man can beat his wife, and yet still see his kids? Could it be that the equality gap with regards to gender in this country is still that damned wide?

A magistrate laughed at me in 2011, when I took out my third protective order on this man and said: "It's not illegal to argue. It's not illegal to drink in your home." No it's not, you old geezer, but the combination of those two things prove fatal time and time again. Get your head out of your anus, please.

I dropped the last protective order case because my lazy lawyer told me that if I lost it, it would be held against me in the custody hearing. While I have finally, after two-and-a-half years of struggling gotten the police to pay attention to me, I still feel like the justice system sees this whole situation as a nasty marital spat...instead of the danger to myself and my son that it truly is.

I watch my boy blossom; talk, learn how to put together jigsaw puzzles (on his own, no less), learn his ABCs, and so much more, and I think how all of that will be lost if I cannot get the judge to see that my husband is a fucking sociopath...and that I should not be blamed for neither being psychic to begin with, nor submissive enough to pacify him once he first attacked me. It doesn't matter that I have been in fear of my life for well over a year. It doesn't matter that this man has a long history of bad (and now criminal) behavior. Because of his socio-economic status, a judge can very well be swayed by his calm lying, if he can look at this man and see something he can relate to. No doubt this fool will show up in slacks and a tie Friday. Hopefully I can convince the judge to ignore that, and the fake penitence that he will exhibit.

Last night, I had a nightmare. My parents took me and Steven away for a weekend, and it was nice to feel removed from this situation for a while. I've been playing out this courtroom drama in my head ever since the detective knocked on my door. As I lay down last night, I tried to mentally prepare myself to come back here. I had two nightmares last night. In the first one, it was a replay of that night in October of 2010 when he essentially blew up at me for taking the baby to the park without him. I ran with Steven into the bedroom, locked the flimsy door, and dialed 911. I whispered to the operator that I had a protective order, but that my husband was still after me. I could see his fingers reaching around the door, his shoes kicking through it, his eyes peering through it like he was Jack Nicholson. I felt the bile rush into my throat in that dream, I felt the terror. I tried to open a nearby window without him knowing what I was doing, and I woke up saying "no." Thank goodness I didn't scream and wake up Steven. I fear that is next.

In the second dream, I saw him in a huddle of drunk homeless people (not too far from the truth at this point). He saw me, and proceeded to follow me. I awoke, and that was my escape.

Is this how I am going to feel for the rest of my life? And what will happen if each consecutive judge does not come to the same conclusion, that this man is dangerous, that he sees both myself and my son as property, and that we need protection? Right now I cannot even legally leave the state to flee.

And I'm so scared.

2 comments:

  1. I wish I could help in some way!!! I continue to pray for you and hug you vicariously. Keep fighting, Sam!

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  2. Day by day, Shel. Day by day. I am in Al-anon now, and the support I got there has me wishing I could go every day. It's a huge change from the past several years. Steve has avoided jail time for now. But he cannot avoid karma. I take comfort in that.

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