WARNING: This post is a HUGE rant that covers a couple of decade’s worth of shit and even then I’m barely touching on SO many things. I TOTALLY understand if you want to run screaming from it. I want to run screaming from it, and it’s my life! If you do dare to actually read it, well then, consider yourself forewarned.
I have an ex-husband. I admit it.
It’s not that I hide my first marriage. Not in the least. My first marriage played a very big part in shaping the person I am today. I just usually refer to it indirectly (second marriage, second husband, etc.). If you have checked out my sidebar, you might have noticed that I acknowledge my ex-husband briefly. Very. Briefly. And then I go on to say that I don’t like to talk about him. EVER.
I hate my ex-husband. Hate him. Yes, I did just use the H word. And yes, I do know how harsh that sounds.
I met my ex when I was a senior in high school. My first job was at the local roller skating rink (remember those?) and my ex worked there too. We met and got along well enough and started dating about a month after I started working at the rink.
Our relationship…..overall…..was volatile. I can’t think of a better word to describe it. We fought A LOT. I wouldn’t say it was abusive. But it sure as hell wasn’t healthy. It took me years to figure out that I jumped from the frying pan into the fire. I used him as my excuse to get away from my family, which was dysfunctional with a capital D.
I fooled myself into thinking that I loved my ex and stayed in the relationship because the alternative to me was so much worse. It was either him or my family. And it was imperative that I stay away from my family. They were quicksand to me (but that’s a post for another day). So I stayed. Even though he treated me badly. Even through the drugs. Even through the lies.
And then we broke up for a while. Sure, I know NOW that the break up was the best thing. But then? Breaking up with my ex forced me back to my family, which by this time was totally falling apart. I didn’t want to be around that. I still felt I had to get away from them. So when my ex apologized, I took him back.
I was pregnant with my son soon after and we were married a few months later.
After my son was born (at least I think it was after), my ex started having unexplained seizures that left him on disability and without a driver’s license. We had to move in with his parents, which just added more stress and things were already bad between us. By the time he went back to work and we moved out, the relationship was in shambles. The lies started again. When I confronted him with the huge lie he had told all along about his health issues, I said it was over. I took my son and left.
I struggled on my own. And I made mistakes. HUGE mistakes. Mistakes that I still kick myself for. One of those mistakes gave my ex the foothold he needed to separate my son from me. After that, he filed for divorce. Before the divorce was final, I felt like I hadn’t given the marriage 100% effort. I know now that it really was about still staying away from my family. I just didn’t have enough faith in myself.
The lies continued. My ex said that he had a vasectomy. Can you guess what happened next? You got it. I wound up pregnant. Luckily, that pregnancy did not go to term. I can’t even begin to imagine what it would have been like if we had another child together. I don’t want to.
Sadly, I stayed with him for quite a few more months. The divorce was final, but we were still dating. At some point, I FINALLY got a clue! I realized that I had given the marriage every effort, and that I deserved so much better. I told my ex that it was over.
To say he took it badly was an understatement. And he had the upper hand. He had my son. My ex knew that I wanted nothing to do with him, but he knew I wanted my son. And he used it against me every chance he got. When I moved out of state a few years later, I tried to work with my ex on a reasonable visitation, but he would have none of it. The day I left CA was the worst day ever. I didn’t see my son after that for 7 years.
My ex wasn’t planning to make it easy for me to stay in touch. He changed his phone number and refused to let me have it to try to keep me from contacting my son. He even took my son out of town on a weekend I drove back to CA. Yes, my ex knew I was coming. I made plans with him a month in advance. He was just being vindictive. I also knew he was bad mouthing me to my son (which was confirmed in a conversation my son and I had a couple of year s ago). He even told my son that if I attended his high school graduation, he wouldn’t be there. I showed up anyway (TAKE THAT MOTHERFUCKER!).
Thankfully, my son’s (paternal) grandmother made sure I was in his life. She is the primary reason I have such a good relationship with my son today. I will never forget her for that.
I told you all of that because of the phone call I received from my son today. It started off as any other normal conversation. He wanted to get a phone number from me. The more he talked, though, the more I knew something was off. So I asked what happened. He said his father kicked him out last night.
And I wanted to kill my ex. Right fucking then and there.
My son was out here in Utah for a visit just a week ago. We talked about how things were at home. I was concerned at how my son described his father’s recent actions. They didn’t make sense to me. I wondered if his actions had anything to do with my son coming out to visit me. I kept it to myself, though, for my son’s sake. I only said here and there that I didn’t agree with certain things and that I didn’t understand why his father was being that way.
When my son went back home it seemed like things were going to be okay. He told his father he was going to move up to Sacramento because the city college there had space available in his degree (the junior college in Stockton where he currently lives is full). I supported his decision and it sounded like his father did too.
I don’t know what changed. And neither does my son. An argument yesterday culminated in my ex telling my son to get out and leave his keys. He also told my son that he is not allowed to call the house or his father’s cell phone. My son is not allowed to go to the house to get his things. Until this Thursday. For 3 hours. Seriously?!?!
I am at a loss. I don’t understand this at all. My son doesn’t do drugs. He doesn’t drink. He doesn’t smoke. He goes to his classes. He EXCELS in his classes. He is responsible. I DO NOT understand what could have happened that would justify this kind of reaction from my ex.
And it makes me wonder if it has to do with me. Is this my ex’s final vengeful act? He can’t use custody against me anymore, since my son is an adult. So is this his one last ditch effort to try to hurt me? I don’t know.
What does hurt me is that I’m not close enough to help my son. I want so badly to be there for him. But I can’t. And it kills me right now. I’ve been crying on and off since I got his call today. I know my son is strong and he will get through this, but I feel like he needs me. And dammit I’M HIS MOTHER! I should be there, right?
Good job, sperm donor. You get an A+ for acting like an ass and driving your son away. I hope you’re proud of yourself. Because in the end, YOU’RE the one who has truly lost.