I'm going to try and make my meeting today with a marriage guidance counsellor (psychologist) sound positive, but really, I'm scared beyond belief.
I gave her a short version of the events of the last few weeks, months, whatever. She immediately became concerned about D's state of mind and seemed very keen to make sure that he get treatment (even mentioning hospitalisation, which freaks me out, because D will FREAK THE FUCK OUT about this and resist, resist, resist, not to mention hating me forever - more than he does already, I mean - if he thinks I'm behind it).
She's going to do some digging at the ER he went to where he almost got hospitalised last month, and will try and talk to our psychologist friend who's been trying to help D too. And I have to go back and see her next week, with a document to fill in that I have to get from the main court in Montpellier, and she'll let me know what she's found out. She's not talking about confidential stuff, just what the doctor who checked C reported and so on.
She also got me an appointment with a legal advisor who will help me fill in the form. She's really not keen on him getting custody at all (HE'S GOING TO KILL ME) given his present state of mind, not to mention the practical side of things.
I do feel that progress is being made, and that things are moving forwards, but, at the same time, I'm scared out of my wits as to his reaction to all this. He wants us to see a lawyer and get some kind of thing in writing, but what I'm doing (which is the same thing) will make him so angry with me that I'm scared of how he'll react.
The lady I saw was very reassuring and very professional (I've met her before somewhere, but can't for the life of me think where), and the fact that she's so concerned about my safety, and that of the girls, has freaked me out. I told her that he hasn't given me his new address (we filled in the girls' re-enrollment forms for school next year and he put a different address - he says it's because he doesn't have a mailbox in his place, I'm convinced it's so he doesn't have to tell me where he lives) and that that scares me - and she said I was right to be scared. Which of course scares me even more. She doesn't even seem happy with him taking the girls for a short time, but I can't stop him doing that (well, I could, but that would unleash the hounds of hell, I suspect) and don't want to stop him seeing them, even if I feel sick with fear every time he does that he won't bring them back...
Oh Lordy, this is serious stuff. Hospitalisation, treatment, lawyers, judges, legal decisions... I've never been so scared in my life, and I feel so outrageously alone - there really isn't anyone I can talk to (well, that's not true of course, there are plenty of people in fact, but they've all got their own lives, their own hassles... I can't impose forever. I have to learn to be strong so I can get through this).
I am fighting, I am coping, I am trying to pull myself out of debt (not easy, believe me). I'm trying to get things organised for the girls this summer (still hoping, praying that I'll find a way to go away with them for a few days, but I'm not sure how I'll pay for that), I'm trying to get work done, get the flat smartened up. Cope, rebuild my life, start over in other words. But inside, I'm jelly, I'm scared, I feel sick with fear.
mercredi 9 juin 2010
mercredi 2 juin 2010
Sucker
Much as I could go on about my many woes pretty much endlessly right now, I'm guessing my reader (how are you?) is probably fed up to death with that, so, being a sucker for memes, I've decided to borrow this one from Avitable...
• Guilty pleasure. Eating crap when no one's around to criticise me.
• Something that inspires you. Beauty in the natural world.
• The five songs you would have with you on a desert island and why. "Walking on sunshine" (Katrina and the Waves) to make me happy, "Girls just wanna have fun" (Cyndi Lauper) to make me dance, "Stuck in a moment" (U2) to make me cry, "Hallelujah" (Leonard Cohen) for when I'm feeling Leonard Cohen-y and "Wild thing" (The Troggs) for the rest of the time.
• What you imagine paradise to be like. Somewhere where the weather is always good, where nothing bad ever happens and where you never feel out of place or out of synch.
• A thank you letter to someone who has changed your life. To my two best friends in England, J and M, for always being here (even virtually) when I need you, and for making my life better. I miss you guys!
• Earliest thing you can remember. Playing games with my father in our entrance hall when I was about 2.
• Favorite cover of your favorite song. Not sure that my favourite song has actually been covered, but I love Sinead O'Connor's version of Prince's "Nothing compares 2 U" and, though absolutely not my favourite song, I love Springsteen's version of "Santa Claus is coming to town"
• Someone you think would make a good president. Here in France? No idea - it's like choosing between the devil and the deep blue sea, though our current incumbent seems to have a serious God complex. Elsewhere? I always thought (bearing in mind I'm not in the US, have only been once and know little about the country's politics) Al Gore would have been quite cool...
• Five things you want to see change. 1) I want there to be a selection process for entry to French universities; 2) I would love to see work paid at its just value (so, I'd increase salaries for nurses, teachers, dustbin men... and lower them for real estate agents, lawyers, accountants, politicians...); 3) I would like Britain to join in with the rest of Europe and give up on its "special relationship with the US" delusion; 4) I would love all religion-based conflict to just stop and 5) I'd like premature babies who die in utero to be given "child" status, even when they're born before the arbitrary legal "cut-off" point.
• A dream you had this past week described in detail. Insomnia rules right now, so no dreams to talk about...
• Favorite picture ever taken of yourself. These are very, very few and far between... Though I do quite like one taken on my 40th birthday (last year) with my two sweet girls...
• Your favorite musical artist’s life story. Not sure of this either, but I loved Oliver Stone's "The Doors" too.
• A memory that never fails to make you laugh. The infamous J-falling-under-a-Young-Conservative story from my student days - I love this story so much, and I wasn't even there!
• Best mashup you’ve ever heard. I'm too old, clearly, as I have no idea what a "mashup" is if it doesn't involve potatoes and mayonnaise...
• A moment, phrase, or song that has changed your life the most. "A person's a person, no matter how small" from Dr Seuss' "Horton Hears a Who"
• Something that you want to do within the next five years. Climb out of debt and find happiness.
• What you want to remembered for. Being a good mother.
• A picture that makes you feel. I love Emil Nolde's "Lichte Meerstimmung"
• A passage from a book that has touched you. Can't find the quotes right now (hell, I can't find the BOOK in this mess), but there are many passages from Waugh's "Brideshead Revisited" that touched me when I was younger, so I guess they still would now!
• A band that you immediately liked and the song that made you like them. Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark and "Joan of Arc" - first single I ever bought!
• Your favorite medium of art. Cinema.
• Someone you would give your life up for without question. My daughters.
• Most awkward first impression you feel you’ve ever given. Way, way too many to count I should think!
• Something you did as a child that other people remember you for. Winning the 3-legged race for 3 years in a row with my friend Sara, having failed wretchedly in every other athletics event.
• Something you would do if no one stopped you or if you knew you wouldn’t fail. Be a writer.
• Your definition of love. Accepting the failings of the one you love, loving unconditionally, having total trust in the other.
• Your definition of the meaning of life. Raising the next generation and realising that the world will be a better place thanks to your children (modest, I know).
• A moment you remember being completely happy in and a description of why you believe you were. What is your definition of happiness? I was happy on holiday in Italy (Lake Como) in August 2008. The place was beautiful, breathtakingly beautiful, the weather was good, my daughters were being adorable and I felt happy in my "marriage". Huh.
• What you live for. To make my children happy, healthy, fulfilled adults.
• Ways you believe you have grown over the past thirty days. My partner and I separated just over 30 days ago. Since then, I've become stronger, more independent.
• Guilty pleasure. Eating crap when no one's around to criticise me.
• Something that inspires you. Beauty in the natural world.
• The five songs you would have with you on a desert island and why. "Walking on sunshine" (Katrina and the Waves) to make me happy, "Girls just wanna have fun" (Cyndi Lauper) to make me dance, "Stuck in a moment" (U2) to make me cry, "Hallelujah" (Leonard Cohen) for when I'm feeling Leonard Cohen-y and "Wild thing" (The Troggs) for the rest of the time.
• What you imagine paradise to be like. Somewhere where the weather is always good, where nothing bad ever happens and where you never feel out of place or out of synch.
• A thank you letter to someone who has changed your life. To my two best friends in England, J and M, for always being here (even virtually) when I need you, and for making my life better. I miss you guys!
• Earliest thing you can remember. Playing games with my father in our entrance hall when I was about 2.
• Favorite cover of your favorite song. Not sure that my favourite song has actually been covered, but I love Sinead O'Connor's version of Prince's "Nothing compares 2 U" and, though absolutely not my favourite song, I love Springsteen's version of "Santa Claus is coming to town"
• Someone you think would make a good president. Here in France? No idea - it's like choosing between the devil and the deep blue sea, though our current incumbent seems to have a serious God complex. Elsewhere? I always thought (bearing in mind I'm not in the US, have only been once and know little about the country's politics) Al Gore would have been quite cool...
• Five things you want to see change. 1) I want there to be a selection process for entry to French universities; 2) I would love to see work paid at its just value (so, I'd increase salaries for nurses, teachers, dustbin men... and lower them for real estate agents, lawyers, accountants, politicians...); 3) I would like Britain to join in with the rest of Europe and give up on its "special relationship with the US" delusion; 4) I would love all religion-based conflict to just stop and 5) I'd like premature babies who die in utero to be given "child" status, even when they're born before the arbitrary legal "cut-off" point.
• A dream you had this past week described in detail. Insomnia rules right now, so no dreams to talk about...
• Favorite picture ever taken of yourself. These are very, very few and far between... Though I do quite like one taken on my 40th birthday (last year) with my two sweet girls...
• Your favorite musical artist’s life story. Not sure of this either, but I loved Oliver Stone's "The Doors" too.
• A memory that never fails to make you laugh. The infamous J-falling-under-a-Young-Conservative story from my student days - I love this story so much, and I wasn't even there!
• Best mashup you’ve ever heard. I'm too old, clearly, as I have no idea what a "mashup" is if it doesn't involve potatoes and mayonnaise...
• A moment, phrase, or song that has changed your life the most. "A person's a person, no matter how small" from Dr Seuss' "Horton Hears a Who"
• Something that you want to do within the next five years. Climb out of debt and find happiness.
• What you want to remembered for. Being a good mother.
• A picture that makes you feel. I love Emil Nolde's "Lichte Meerstimmung"
• A passage from a book that has touched you. Can't find the quotes right now (hell, I can't find the BOOK in this mess), but there are many passages from Waugh's "Brideshead Revisited" that touched me when I was younger, so I guess they still would now!
• A band that you immediately liked and the song that made you like them. Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark and "Joan of Arc" - first single I ever bought!
• Your favorite medium of art. Cinema.
• Someone you would give your life up for without question. My daughters.
• Most awkward first impression you feel you’ve ever given. Way, way too many to count I should think!
• Something you did as a child that other people remember you for. Winning the 3-legged race for 3 years in a row with my friend Sara, having failed wretchedly in every other athletics event.
• Something you would do if no one stopped you or if you knew you wouldn’t fail. Be a writer.
• Your definition of love. Accepting the failings of the one you love, loving unconditionally, having total trust in the other.
• Your definition of the meaning of life. Raising the next generation and realising that the world will be a better place thanks to your children (modest, I know).
• A moment you remember being completely happy in and a description of why you believe you were. What is your definition of happiness? I was happy on holiday in Italy (Lake Como) in August 2008. The place was beautiful, breathtakingly beautiful, the weather was good, my daughters were being adorable and I felt happy in my "marriage". Huh.
• What you live for. To make my children happy, healthy, fulfilled adults.
• Ways you believe you have grown over the past thirty days. My partner and I separated just over 30 days ago. Since then, I've become stronger, more independent.
mardi 1 juin 2010
Goodbye May
I've always loved May in the past - I love spring, and May is usually when it all comes together. Plus, my birthday's in May, and I've always, always loved my birthday.
But this year? Blech. A totally crap month, starting with the monumental fuck-up that was 1 May (the day D officially "moved out" and started voicing his irrational crap to others, finally revealing just how far over the edge he's actually gone), and ending, more timidly, with today, in which I realised that not only is joint 50-50 custody going to break my heart, it's also going to cost me money - the girls are currently on my tax forms, giving me a reduction (a significant one at that). If they're only here half the time, it'll be as if I only have one daughter, so my taxes will go up, plus my child support (very low, almost insignificant monthly amount, but still) will be halved. I'm livid, and of course D doesn't give a shit one way or the other, persisting in his "we need to get lawyers" crap.
Oh, Lordy, what a crap year this has been!
Are there any pluses? Not many, that's for sure. My debts are mounting steadily (and not likely to diminish, given the above), I have no means to get away at all this summer, no matter how much I'd love to, need to. I'm terrified at the thought of having to give up my girls for 6 months of the year, especially to someone generally considered (not just by me, but by others, including a psychologist friend) to be mentally unstable. And, icing on the cake, D's mother, my much-disliked MIL, wants to come and stay - HERE because D's place is too small. I feel like screaming, but of course the cunning minx has spoken to C and L and they're delighted at the thought of having Mamie here. I'M GOING TO DIE (or possibly kill someone).
So. That's the end of May. I'm going to hope that June is better in some way (not sure how that could ever be possible, but I can't allow myself to give up hope completely), even if I'm really not that optimistic.
The only thing that keeps me going is work, which (when I manage to get my concentration up to scratch) allows me to "forget" the crap all around me. Oh yeah, and the fact that my beautiful Tom now spends every night on my bed, which makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
Yesterday was Mothers' Day here in France, and I got sweet gifts from my girls (a pot holder, hand-painted, from C plus a beautiful card and message, and a hand-painted candle-holder from L, with an equally sweet card and poem), a somewhat surprising pink (not red, you note) rose from D (probably because he feels guilty about fucking up my birthday so badly) and a nice phone call from a friend. But I was melancholy, unsettled, unhappy.
When will life give me a break, people?
But this year? Blech. A totally crap month, starting with the monumental fuck-up that was 1 May (the day D officially "moved out" and started voicing his irrational crap to others, finally revealing just how far over the edge he's actually gone), and ending, more timidly, with today, in which I realised that not only is joint 50-50 custody going to break my heart, it's also going to cost me money - the girls are currently on my tax forms, giving me a reduction (a significant one at that). If they're only here half the time, it'll be as if I only have one daughter, so my taxes will go up, plus my child support (very low, almost insignificant monthly amount, but still) will be halved. I'm livid, and of course D doesn't give a shit one way or the other, persisting in his "we need to get lawyers" crap.
Oh, Lordy, what a crap year this has been!
Are there any pluses? Not many, that's for sure. My debts are mounting steadily (and not likely to diminish, given the above), I have no means to get away at all this summer, no matter how much I'd love to, need to. I'm terrified at the thought of having to give up my girls for 6 months of the year, especially to someone generally considered (not just by me, but by others, including a psychologist friend) to be mentally unstable. And, icing on the cake, D's mother, my much-disliked MIL, wants to come and stay - HERE because D's place is too small. I feel like screaming, but of course the cunning minx has spoken to C and L and they're delighted at the thought of having Mamie here. I'M GOING TO DIE (or possibly kill someone).
So. That's the end of May. I'm going to hope that June is better in some way (not sure how that could ever be possible, but I can't allow myself to give up hope completely), even if I'm really not that optimistic.
The only thing that keeps me going is work, which (when I manage to get my concentration up to scratch) allows me to "forget" the crap all around me. Oh yeah, and the fact that my beautiful Tom now spends every night on my bed, which makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
Yesterday was Mothers' Day here in France, and I got sweet gifts from my girls (a pot holder, hand-painted, from C plus a beautiful card and message, and a hand-painted candle-holder from L, with an equally sweet card and poem), a somewhat surprising pink (not red, you note) rose from D (probably because he feels guilty about fucking up my birthday so badly) and a nice phone call from a friend. But I was melancholy, unsettled, unhappy.
When will life give me a break, people?
vendredi 28 mai 2010
Surviving
Life goes on, as they say.
Things are strange, to say the least. D now has his own "flat" (though of course I've never seen it and won't be invited there for a while from what I can tell) and was burgled after just 48 hours - he has virtually no possessions, no furniture etc. but the bastards managed to take the one thing he had: his 7-year-old laptop. *sigh*
We had an appointment with a lawyer last week, supposedly to get some kind of official paper detailing our "mutual consent" separation and the 50-50 custody crap. Of course, we were there on time, and the lawyer didn't turn up (bitch). I almost vomited from the stress and frustration of it all.
I'm kind of adapting to my new "single mother" life, but am finding the idea of not being with my girls 50% of the time very hard to cope with. It may not happen for a while (D's flat is way too small and under-equipped for him to have the girls stay with him), but I'm pretty sure it will eventually. The very idea of it breaks my heart.
And yet, my patience levels are so ragged that I'm not being very good with them right now. With D no longer here, there's so much more to do all the time and I'm just not handling it very well. He took them all weekend (so to speak - 11 am to 8 pm on Saturday, 11 am to 6 pm on Sunday) and I cleaned and rearranged the whole kitchen, all whilst sobbing because I missed my babies so much. And then, when they came back, I snapped at them for not doing what I asked. I'm actually pretty much a wreck right now.
I have a shitload of work to do and can't concentrate on any of it; the rest of the flat is a mess (the kitchen is FABULOUS, though and I'm extremely proud of all my work - I just need to buy a proper worktop and put the doors on the kitchen cupboards); I'm aching for a holiday - just me and my girls, I guess - but can't afford it and oh, money problems. Lord preserve me from money problems - I barely dare take a look at my bank accounts right now.
What a mess my life is.
And, to cap it all, my sweet C has been away all week (well, since Tuesday morning) on a class trip to the Auvergne to study volcanoes. There's a voice server thing you can check every evening and by all accounts they're all having a wonderful time, but oh, how I miss her! She's never been away from home like this before, and I haven't spent so long without her since, well, ever... She'll be home tomorrow evening at about 6 pm, and I can't wait!
This is all very disjointed, I know, but I'm severely sleep-deprived (still can't get myself to bed early, but now have to be up every day at 7.30 to get the girls ready for school - though I pride myself on the fact that, since I've been responsible for getting them to school, we haven't been late once, unlike D who frequently arrived late) and still not really myself on the basis of this utterly surreal situation I'm in.
Way back in January I asked, rhetorically, just how much worse 2010 could possibly get... Well, I guess I have the answer now: shitloads worse. And I daren't ask the question again because I don't think I can take much more...
Things are strange, to say the least. D now has his own "flat" (though of course I've never seen it and won't be invited there for a while from what I can tell) and was burgled after just 48 hours - he has virtually no possessions, no furniture etc. but the bastards managed to take the one thing he had: his 7-year-old laptop. *sigh*
We had an appointment with a lawyer last week, supposedly to get some kind of official paper detailing our "mutual consent" separation and the 50-50 custody crap. Of course, we were there on time, and the lawyer didn't turn up (bitch). I almost vomited from the stress and frustration of it all.
I'm kind of adapting to my new "single mother" life, but am finding the idea of not being with my girls 50% of the time very hard to cope with. It may not happen for a while (D's flat is way too small and under-equipped for him to have the girls stay with him), but I'm pretty sure it will eventually. The very idea of it breaks my heart.
And yet, my patience levels are so ragged that I'm not being very good with them right now. With D no longer here, there's so much more to do all the time and I'm just not handling it very well. He took them all weekend (so to speak - 11 am to 8 pm on Saturday, 11 am to 6 pm on Sunday) and I cleaned and rearranged the whole kitchen, all whilst sobbing because I missed my babies so much. And then, when they came back, I snapped at them for not doing what I asked. I'm actually pretty much a wreck right now.
I have a shitload of work to do and can't concentrate on any of it; the rest of the flat is a mess (the kitchen is FABULOUS, though and I'm extremely proud of all my work - I just need to buy a proper worktop and put the doors on the kitchen cupboards); I'm aching for a holiday - just me and my girls, I guess - but can't afford it and oh, money problems. Lord preserve me from money problems - I barely dare take a look at my bank accounts right now.
What a mess my life is.
And, to cap it all, my sweet C has been away all week (well, since Tuesday morning) on a class trip to the Auvergne to study volcanoes. There's a voice server thing you can check every evening and by all accounts they're all having a wonderful time, but oh, how I miss her! She's never been away from home like this before, and I haven't spent so long without her since, well, ever... She'll be home tomorrow evening at about 6 pm, and I can't wait!
This is all very disjointed, I know, but I'm severely sleep-deprived (still can't get myself to bed early, but now have to be up every day at 7.30 to get the girls ready for school - though I pride myself on the fact that, since I've been responsible for getting them to school, we haven't been late once, unlike D who frequently arrived late) and still not really myself on the basis of this utterly surreal situation I'm in.
Way back in January I asked, rhetorically, just how much worse 2010 could possibly get... Well, I guess I have the answer now: shitloads worse. And I daren't ask the question again because I don't think I can take much more...
mardi 18 mai 2010
Not celebrating
D slept here last night, but only because he had nowhere else to go. The evening was tense and uncomfortable, mainly because my father doesn't understand at all what's going on and there is NO WAY I'm going to fill him in on all the sordid details because he'd only worry. He's 79 and lives in Scotland, so there's no need for him to be sitting there in his house worrying about what might or might not be happening here.
So. D was here this morning and took the girls to school, but didn't say if he'd be here for lunch. I don't know what's going on, except that he keeps asking me if I'm still in agreement for the "garde alternée" crap (I've told him a million times that I don't like this situation, it's not something I want, but that I won't stop him if this is what he wants - I don't know how much more fucking reasonable I can be) and I think we have an appointment with the lawyer on Thursday. Which I'm dreading, of course.
So yes, this morning all was a little tense - D only making minimal conversation with me and my father, being all sweetness and light with the girls.
What hurt the most was the fact that today is my FUCKING BIRTHDAY and although, yes, D did wish me a happy birthday last night just after midnight, he didn't say much this morning, and didn't remind the girls (so they said nothing), so I feel very neglected. He obviously didn't get me a present (and I didn't expect him to), but I feel that he could maybe have got something for the girls to give me (it's not over yet, but so far this has been a CRAP birthday).
The girls are coming home for lunch, and I'm hoping that will be fun, but I'm not wildly optimistic, especially if D does make an appearance. To be honest, I don't really feel like celebrating at all.
And, much as I truly love my father, I can't wait for him to go home either - he's been here since last Wednesday (that's 6 nights on the sofa for me so far), I've got a shitload of work to do and find it hard to concentrate with him banging about, plus I feel guilty for leaving him on his own so much. We had a nice time at the cinema yesterday ("Robin Hood", quite good, and I found "Godfrey" remarkably sexy), but having him here for SO LONG is pretty stressful all the same.
A pretty grim day, then, and I can't wait for it to be over to be honest.
Happy Birthday, Magic, let's hope being 41 is more fun than being 40 (though it hasn't got off to a very positive start, I must say).
So. D was here this morning and took the girls to school, but didn't say if he'd be here for lunch. I don't know what's going on, except that he keeps asking me if I'm still in agreement for the "garde alternée" crap (I've told him a million times that I don't like this situation, it's not something I want, but that I won't stop him if this is what he wants - I don't know how much more fucking reasonable I can be) and I think we have an appointment with the lawyer on Thursday. Which I'm dreading, of course.
So yes, this morning all was a little tense - D only making minimal conversation with me and my father, being all sweetness and light with the girls.
What hurt the most was the fact that today is my FUCKING BIRTHDAY and although, yes, D did wish me a happy birthday last night just after midnight, he didn't say much this morning, and didn't remind the girls (so they said nothing), so I feel very neglected. He obviously didn't get me a present (and I didn't expect him to), but I feel that he could maybe have got something for the girls to give me (it's not over yet, but so far this has been a CRAP birthday).
The girls are coming home for lunch, and I'm hoping that will be fun, but I'm not wildly optimistic, especially if D does make an appearance. To be honest, I don't really feel like celebrating at all.
And, much as I truly love my father, I can't wait for him to go home either - he's been here since last Wednesday (that's 6 nights on the sofa for me so far), I've got a shitload of work to do and find it hard to concentrate with him banging about, plus I feel guilty for leaving him on his own so much. We had a nice time at the cinema yesterday ("Robin Hood", quite good, and I found "Godfrey" remarkably sexy), but having him here for SO LONG is pretty stressful all the same.
A pretty grim day, then, and I can't wait for it to be over to be honest.
Happy Birthday, Magic, let's hope being 41 is more fun than being 40 (though it hasn't got off to a very positive start, I must say).
vendredi 14 mai 2010
Getting all down in writing
Where to begin?
D has decided that he wants us to separate. His basis for this is that he needs his "independence" (well, yeah, OK, I can understand that the whole middle-aged-guy-with-virtually-no-income-living-off-his-"wife" thing might have got to him. Yeah, I can go with that) and that, as I have been trying to poison him (or otherwise do something to harm him physically and/or mentally, though nothing concrete has been stated), and trying to shag guys found on the internet and all other kinds of rubbish, irrational and deeply upsetting crap, he can no longer trust me about anything. According to him (on his "bad" days when he totally seems to hate me with a passion) I'm a compulsive liar, tyrant, hypocrite, bitch... who has, apparently, needed slapping on two separate occasions in the last couple of weeks. He told me (though he later retraced it) that he regrets everything about our 14 years together except for our beautiful daughters. He's seen a lawyer to get "official" separation papers and joint custody papers drawn up. He is now vaguely talking about wanting his share of the money we put down for flat back (24,000 euros!). He's irrational, unreasonable, totally unrecognisable and, on occasion, downright odious. At the ER the other night with C (she has a persistent, horrible cough and complains of headaches), the doctor examined C very superficially and then focused all his attention on D, recognising what I've already thought myself - that he's mentally ill, that his brain isn't processing information correctly, that he's misinterpreting what he believes are facts. Of course, D refutes this vehemently and refuses to see a psychiatrist. I've spoken to his pastor, who's given me the name of a counsellor that I'm going to try and see really soon (though probably not before the dreaded meeting with the lawyer). He's alienated some of our best friends (who totally agree with me, so he wants nothing to do with them. And no, I can't be blamed because he talked to them first), he's sent hideous e-mails to my best friend, M, in London saying odious things about me and refuses to retract them, he's all sweetness and light and lovey-dovey with the girls, all whilst ignoring me, he hears something I say and cackles at some private joke, as if I've once again proved his "theories" to be right.
He hasn't slept here for over a week. We've had endless "discussions" - often arguments - but neither of us will back down. I refuse, outright, to admit to any of the utter crap he accuses me of. And he refuses to accept that I'm telling the truth and says he can't trust me.
I'm trying to come to terms with the idea that I'll be spending the rest of my life alone, and that in the very near future I'll only be with my beautiful girls every other week.
There are times that I want him to come back, that I yearn for our happier times. And then there are others, when I hate him so much I could scream. He's destroying our family, he's hurting the girls, he's hurting our cat, he's fucking up our lives, all because he believes CRAP that isn't even remotely true. I'm 100% convinced he needs psychiatric help, but there' s almost no chance of that ever happening.
I'm being destroyed by the thought of only spending half my time with my babies. I can't bear the thought of it, it makes me feel sick inside. He doesn't have his own place yet (no job, no income, no benefits; he's staying with unnamed friends every night - though I know for a fact he stayed with someone in this building last night because I saw him come in at 10.30 pm and leave again this morning at 10) so the joint custody thing can't happen just yet, but it will, because he wants it so badly and isn't open to any kind of reconciliation process. This separation is "doing him good" and the fact that it's killing me and making the girls aggressive, tearful, withdrawn and unhappy is irrelevant.
My father's come (he barely knows the half of what's going on - it would kill him to think that I'm being accused of such horrors, that I've been slapped, that I've been treated so fucking badly) to stay for a whole week, which is sweet, but really tough. We're not, and have never been, a touchy-feely kind of family. I don't share emotions with my father. So, along with the fact that I'm totally overwhelmed with work, I also have to try and act as if this separation thing is actually super and fun and wanted by both of us. I'm exhausted, bled dry, a wreck.
I yearn to see my two closest friends, M and J in England, but can't afford either the time or the money to go. I booked us all a week in a gîte in Italy and have had to cancel (no return of the deposit, either, so that's 140 euros down the drain), so I probably won't be going anywhere this summer. I'd love to go and spend some time somewhere relaxing with the girls, my sweet babies, my angels, but I can't. I have to try and save up so I can take driving lessons, so I can use the car and gain in independence.
I feel like my life's in tatters right now. I'm finding it hard to concentrate, hard to be civil to D when he comes round, hard to forgive him for this totally craptastic situation that he's put us in. Of course, he blames me for it all and sees himself as the total victim. But he's a delusional, back-stabbing, mother-fucking liar. Yeah, I'm a little bitter.
I've got good friends, friends who care and who can help me, but it's the "garde alternée" that's doing me in - my babies don't have the same surname as I do, C's British passport is out of date, and L doesn't have British nationality. I swear, if D ever tries to take my babies away from me, I'll pursue him straight down to the gates of hell and back, I'll use every trick in the book to get them back.
Oh, Lord, this is such a mess. I love my dad so much, but can't wait for him to go home (next Wednesday) so I can just collapse in a blubbering mess on the floor in the evenings instead of having to make small-talk.
It's my birthday on Tuesday, and I'm dreading it. The girls want to come home from school for my birthday lunch, and I'm delighted that they do. What I don't want is D here, fouling up the atmosphere with his pointed remarks and surly looks and snide comments and private jokes and what have you. Right now, this evening, I would be quite happy for him not to do anything about my birthday whatsoever. But my father's here, so I'm not sure what's going to happen.
I'm a wreck and I don't know what to do, what to think. I feel horribly alone (yes, I said I've got friends, but the two best ones are in England, and the ones here all have kids, and work, and have their own lives, own hassles...), horribly in need of comfort, horribly scared about the future. I want my babies, I want to be with them, I want to be with them all the time.
Oh, Lord, please, stop this year from being such a suck-job, please help me find peace and happiness and freedom from all this crap, all the money problems that persist, persist, persist...
Please, help me!
D has decided that he wants us to separate. His basis for this is that he needs his "independence" (well, yeah, OK, I can understand that the whole middle-aged-guy-with-virtually-no-income-living-off-his-"wife" thing might have got to him. Yeah, I can go with that) and that, as I have been trying to poison him (or otherwise do something to harm him physically and/or mentally, though nothing concrete has been stated), and trying to shag guys found on the internet and all other kinds of rubbish, irrational and deeply upsetting crap, he can no longer trust me about anything. According to him (on his "bad" days when he totally seems to hate me with a passion) I'm a compulsive liar, tyrant, hypocrite, bitch... who has, apparently, needed slapping on two separate occasions in the last couple of weeks. He told me (though he later retraced it) that he regrets everything about our 14 years together except for our beautiful daughters. He's seen a lawyer to get "official" separation papers and joint custody papers drawn up. He is now vaguely talking about wanting his share of the money we put down for flat back (24,000 euros!). He's irrational, unreasonable, totally unrecognisable and, on occasion, downright odious. At the ER the other night with C (she has a persistent, horrible cough and complains of headaches), the doctor examined C very superficially and then focused all his attention on D, recognising what I've already thought myself - that he's mentally ill, that his brain isn't processing information correctly, that he's misinterpreting what he believes are facts. Of course, D refutes this vehemently and refuses to see a psychiatrist. I've spoken to his pastor, who's given me the name of a counsellor that I'm going to try and see really soon (though probably not before the dreaded meeting with the lawyer). He's alienated some of our best friends (who totally agree with me, so he wants nothing to do with them. And no, I can't be blamed because he talked to them first), he's sent hideous e-mails to my best friend, M, in London saying odious things about me and refuses to retract them, he's all sweetness and light and lovey-dovey with the girls, all whilst ignoring me, he hears something I say and cackles at some private joke, as if I've once again proved his "theories" to be right.
He hasn't slept here for over a week. We've had endless "discussions" - often arguments - but neither of us will back down. I refuse, outright, to admit to any of the utter crap he accuses me of. And he refuses to accept that I'm telling the truth and says he can't trust me.
I'm trying to come to terms with the idea that I'll be spending the rest of my life alone, and that in the very near future I'll only be with my beautiful girls every other week.
There are times that I want him to come back, that I yearn for our happier times. And then there are others, when I hate him so much I could scream. He's destroying our family, he's hurting the girls, he's hurting our cat, he's fucking up our lives, all because he believes CRAP that isn't even remotely true. I'm 100% convinced he needs psychiatric help, but there' s almost no chance of that ever happening.
I'm being destroyed by the thought of only spending half my time with my babies. I can't bear the thought of it, it makes me feel sick inside. He doesn't have his own place yet (no job, no income, no benefits; he's staying with unnamed friends every night - though I know for a fact he stayed with someone in this building last night because I saw him come in at 10.30 pm and leave again this morning at 10) so the joint custody thing can't happen just yet, but it will, because he wants it so badly and isn't open to any kind of reconciliation process. This separation is "doing him good" and the fact that it's killing me and making the girls aggressive, tearful, withdrawn and unhappy is irrelevant.
My father's come (he barely knows the half of what's going on - it would kill him to think that I'm being accused of such horrors, that I've been slapped, that I've been treated so fucking badly) to stay for a whole week, which is sweet, but really tough. We're not, and have never been, a touchy-feely kind of family. I don't share emotions with my father. So, along with the fact that I'm totally overwhelmed with work, I also have to try and act as if this separation thing is actually super and fun and wanted by both of us. I'm exhausted, bled dry, a wreck.
I yearn to see my two closest friends, M and J in England, but can't afford either the time or the money to go. I booked us all a week in a gîte in Italy and have had to cancel (no return of the deposit, either, so that's 140 euros down the drain), so I probably won't be going anywhere this summer. I'd love to go and spend some time somewhere relaxing with the girls, my sweet babies, my angels, but I can't. I have to try and save up so I can take driving lessons, so I can use the car and gain in independence.
I feel like my life's in tatters right now. I'm finding it hard to concentrate, hard to be civil to D when he comes round, hard to forgive him for this totally craptastic situation that he's put us in. Of course, he blames me for it all and sees himself as the total victim. But he's a delusional, back-stabbing, mother-fucking liar. Yeah, I'm a little bitter.
I've got good friends, friends who care and who can help me, but it's the "garde alternée" that's doing me in - my babies don't have the same surname as I do, C's British passport is out of date, and L doesn't have British nationality. I swear, if D ever tries to take my babies away from me, I'll pursue him straight down to the gates of hell and back, I'll use every trick in the book to get them back.
Oh, Lord, this is such a mess. I love my dad so much, but can't wait for him to go home (next Wednesday) so I can just collapse in a blubbering mess on the floor in the evenings instead of having to make small-talk.
It's my birthday on Tuesday, and I'm dreading it. The girls want to come home from school for my birthday lunch, and I'm delighted that they do. What I don't want is D here, fouling up the atmosphere with his pointed remarks and surly looks and snide comments and private jokes and what have you. Right now, this evening, I would be quite happy for him not to do anything about my birthday whatsoever. But my father's here, so I'm not sure what's going to happen.
I'm a wreck and I don't know what to do, what to think. I feel horribly alone (yes, I said I've got friends, but the two best ones are in England, and the ones here all have kids, and work, and have their own lives, own hassles...), horribly in need of comfort, horribly scared about the future. I want my babies, I want to be with them, I want to be with them all the time.
Oh, Lord, please, stop this year from being such a suck-job, please help me find peace and happiness and freedom from all this crap, all the money problems that persist, persist, persist...
Please, help me!
mercredi 28 avril 2010
Not dead
So. Yeah, I'm back, and I'm not dead, but sometimes I kind of feel that way. Things have been shitty beyond belief back here, but I'm not going to go into any of that here. I can't, it's all too raw, too painful, too surreal.
The main thing is that my baby, my sweet, sweet baby, turned 6 yesterday (27th). I can't believe it. She suddenly looks so grown up, so BIG. She's a big girl now, ready for primary school, ready for big kid stuff. She's most definitely ready to leave kindergarten behind.
Despite the crappy atmosphere chez Magic right now, we managed to hold it all together and make sure she had a good day: "favourite lunch" at home with us instead of at the school canteen, sweets to hand out after her dance class, lots of lovely presents, cake with our neighbours this evening... She had fun, and I'm glad.
But she's 6 - my tiny baby is 6!
Wow.
Here's to hoping this is a good year for her (things don't look desperately promising from my angle, but she's an angel, my other bright and shining star, I have confidence in her resilience, her strength. She'll make it, and so will C. I'll give my life to make sure of that).
Pray for me, for us, people, please, I need all the help I can get right now.
The main thing is that my baby, my sweet, sweet baby, turned 6 yesterday (27th). I can't believe it. She suddenly looks so grown up, so BIG. She's a big girl now, ready for primary school, ready for big kid stuff. She's most definitely ready to leave kindergarten behind.
Despite the crappy atmosphere chez Magic right now, we managed to hold it all together and make sure she had a good day: "favourite lunch" at home with us instead of at the school canteen, sweets to hand out after her dance class, lots of lovely presents, cake with our neighbours this evening... She had fun, and I'm glad.
But she's 6 - my tiny baby is 6!
Wow.
Here's to hoping this is a good year for her (things don't look desperately promising from my angle, but she's an angel, my other bright and shining star, I have confidence in her resilience, her strength. She'll make it, and so will C. I'll give my life to make sure of that).
Pray for me, for us, people, please, I need all the help I can get right now.
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