I am coming to the end of a very long personal journey. I realize how much this Decade actually means to me. This year is coming to the end and with that, a very long timeline has been written. I have had a valuable learning experience and have learned a whole hell of a lot about people and their integrity. I have in fact rediscovered myself in ways that I thought were long forgotten but larger than all of that? I have learned to love myself. It took the last ten years of utter hell to wake me up and see myself as I really am.
I happily divorced my ex-husband on May 27th, 2011. I did with integrity and was under oath to conduct our co-parenting time in a business-like manner. My ex is not one to travel far from the yard. He has no sense of adventure nor does he have the desire to explore the world. He is very happy to mow his lawn, watch his shows, and stay on his land. Unfortunately, I have Gypsy blood. I can not be boxed or tied down. That is far worse than jail time. The promises that were made prior to marriage were not upheld on his part and my blood began to boil with a nasty travel fever. I did get to travel due to my work but he made it very painful and the kids would call crying for me to come home. It was a weapon he is gifted in using. The girls where always his first round of shots fired. He knew they were my Achilles Heel.
I ended up losing jobs because it was too much and I was never able to really focus on the task at hand. I worried about what I was going home to and if we were going to be safe that night. The arguments grew and the toxicity of the marriage spread out to the girls. I would leave the country for work only to find out he purchased a car under my name without permission, much less regard to our already overwhelming debt. He would accuse my trips of being a time in which I would cheat on him and the pressure he gave me was indescribable. Resentments and his narcissistic abuse overwhelmed me and I had to leave. I truly feared for our safety. He grew more and more like Jekyll and Hyde. We never knew who was walking through the door.
When we divorced, I did it with hopes that there would be a fragment of civility. There was for a few weeks. However, when I started dating the gloves came off and the stalking began. The threats. the rumors, and his showing up to my workplace digging for dirt. I couldn't trust anyone as he is a master manipulator and corned all that knew me to confess what they knew about my life. For our safety, I began cutting cords with all that I knew and thought was my safety net. I had to move countless times to avoid his regular drive-bys, which ultimately ended in his quizzing poor Chloe about “who sleeps in her mother's bed” and “whose car was that in the driveway.”
As time went on, the further away I had to go. I was under so much pressure and feared for our safety. We were alone and could trust no one. We went into hiding and did our best to keep a “normal” life without those who we once trusted as part of it. We had to start from ground Zero and that meant I had NO resources for anything that we needed. I had no one to watch Chloe when she was small and that put a damper in employment. I couldn't make enough money to pay for afterschool care so that squeezed us to a rock bottom status. He gave us permission to move and when we did he full out lied to the courts, which in turn arrested me for kidnapping. I spent 4 days in solitary and was unable to eat due to my food allergies. guard mocked me & called me names. The arresting officer told me that I would be out the next day and that I would be safe while in this jail. I was most definitely not safe by any stretch of the imagination and that will be revealed later on in my writings.
He ended up with 9 weeks of custody. I had no say in anything, and she suffered at his wrath. After my 4 days in NH Jail, I was sent back to Flordia where I had no control or resources to help her if things went further south for her. All I could do is to document the calls he allowed her to make to me which were very limited and frankly, clear parental alienation. She described the torture she endured under his care. She screamed and cried. She hurt so much. She was so scared and alone. There was nothing I could do except listen at her break. She crumbled as the abuse was too much for a little person to bare. He would insult her and go through her things assuring her that her “mother was trying to send things to her that would hurt her”. His rage consumed him and his hatred towards me was for her to endure. It was 9 weeks of pure fucking hell for that little girl. I can not even share how painful it is to be witness to such horrible abuse and not be able to do anything to help her. The Maine Police said there was nothing I could do unless she was bruised.
On the outside.
I ended up homeless and my world crashed down.
Over the last ten years, I have had my eyes forced open to a world I never knew existed. I never thought in one instant that the Judicial system is as deeply flawed as it is. I never once imagined police officers can be corrupt. Nor did I imagine that government officials will turn a blind eye to what's happening to their communities. Of course, they perk right up if they think the subject matter will get them a vote. But when it comes to the real, down and dirty shit that fills our communities with such tragedies, they don't seem to have time to take a call.
I have watched my amazing kid go from an ok childhood to one of severe poverty and more abuse from her father. All because the judge felt like it was in her “best interest” and because the laws are not necessarily up to date with the times. Now, she has PTSD and will live with learning how to cope for the rest of her life. Yes, I have fought, I have fought the NH courts long and hard. We have had 48 witnesses and specialists but the court still holds on to the notion that somehow her father wants what's best for her. We are STILL in court as this time whizzes by. And her father still insults me, digs at me, and refuses to co-parent. He still puts her in the middle and tears her apart.
I am not sure which jail time I learned the most from? Actually sitting in a cell without a way to contact the real world or trying to survive in the real world full of corruption? What I do know is that Abuse is very real in this country, that laws need to be strengthened to prevent more cases like ours, and that poverty is a real monster. It is so hard to get out of the poverty loop. I am very sure that my life long mission is in telling my story in hopes to inspire others in similar situations.
But larger than all of that? I have a mission to know myself, forgive myself, love myself, and heal from all of the past trauma. It will be a long time before I stop getting up several times at night checking windows, door latches, and making sure my child is safe in bed. It will be a long time before I stop being paranoid as to why the car behind me seems to be going in the same direction that I am. It will take a long time to deprogram 20+ years of emotional, verbal, and finical abuse.
It will take some time to talk to myself in a loving way all the time. Right now, I still catch myself finding fault in my human ways. I have done the best I can as a mother and in that, I can say I am proud. My daughter is an amazing person with magic in her eyes. I know that she has her own battles but she will get through them with grace as I never gave up. She now knows she doesn't have to either.
The last ten years have shown me how much I can take, how much I can lose, how many pieces I can break into, and how quickly I can put myself back together. These last 10 years have also taught me about value. What I value today is FAR from what I thought was valuable 10 years ago. Then I was thrilled to have a fat bank account and to do as I wished. Now? I am so fucking grateful to be alive. There were many times I truly thought my life was over. I am super grateful to have a roof over our heads and frankly? I could give 2 rats ass’s about anything materialistic. LIFE is far more valuable and LIVING is the highest point for me.
I do have to say that I have grown proud of myself. I can do far more than I imagined I could, even with a shattered heart and no more faith in the system that is supposed to protect us.
Do I hope this battle or fucked up life lesson is finally over?
Absolutely.
If it's not?
I will continue to walk forward. I know loss in a thousand ways. I can handle one thousand and more. I can sew myself up again and I can do it faster each time. I know how to embrace for impact and I will succeed.
Until next time……………..
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I write pieces of my 43-years journey circling this planet. Some are past and some present. The time is not relevant.
It’s the story of healing, hope, transformation, and my overall determination not to give up.
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