Life is actually quite good… but it has some really terrible moments… and they’re the ones I need to write about at the moment…

The kids and I found some super cheap flights to Hawaii… over Christmas….

So…. bit the bullet and asked the teen son if he wants to join us….

and…

all hell broke loose with their father…

because technically, he is entitled to have them from Boxing Day until New Years Eve.

He is ONLY entitled to have them every second weekend, and that 6 day period over the Christmas break…

I pointed out that I gave him longer at Christmas, a week in October, his wedding (not his allocated weekend), Easter…. These are basically the only times has has seen them…

As his time with them is obviously flexible and has no set pattern, this shouldn’t be an issue. He can have them over New Year for the same amount of time. Longer even.

But no…

He has to argue…

Because that his is need in life… the fight…

I blocked him on my phone – so he’s now emailing instead…

He told me he’s planning to go to Germany for Christmas. I countered by saying – well that’s great, you won’t be around anyway so the kids will be in Hawaii… No… apparently he’s not going if the kids aren’t going to Germany…. Umm, the kids were never going to Germany….

So he wants to stick to the letter of the parenting orders… Okay, so teen son will spend holidays with me now and you will only see them on the set weekends and that 6 days over Christmas – that’s it?

Oh no… of course that’s not it… He wants me to take the kids to see him when he wants to see them…

Umm, no… you left here to be near a girl you’d known for 2 weeks…Yes, he’s since married her, but he’d known her 2 weeks and moved 5 and a half hours away from his kids to be near her. I don’t have to drive them anywhere…

So here is my question… why do I engage? He only wants the fight. The kids will be going to Hawaii because they’ll talk him into it. Why can’t I break those old habits though? Why do I give him what he needs?

And why does my teen son now hate me once again? Because his dad is upset and that is my fault…

At these moments, I can’t do this parenting thing… I really can’t. If one more person tells me I’m a great parent, I’m likely to throw something solid at them. Because when they say this, all I see is my kids in turmoil and my teen son in particular… I see the tears and the heartbreak… and I know that their father is the one picking the fights over everything, but I have to take some responsibility here…. Oddly though, my son’s most recent mental health team were adamant that I shouldn’t be blaming myself… which is so nice to consider… something to clutch in those darkest moments… Because I see that I should have left… that I should have taken them and run so long ago… that I should have taken the risk of dragging them through the courts so it was documented… that I should have gone to the police when it was all fresh and the evidence was there…. I can’t go back in time and make him accountable.

And people can’t seem to see his manipulation… He says things and they believe him. Just like that. They believe the lies he spins.

I tell them stories to explain it: Miss 9 Facetiming him and saying goodbye. He says: I love you sweetie. I wish I could see you every day… but someone took you away from me.. didn’t she?

Or Master 8 – mummy, you have to give back my birthday money because daddy said you steal it.

The older two, it’s different… he says things to Miss 16 such as – wow, you’ve finally lost some weight (she’s always been thin)… or, this is why you have no friends (she has dozens)…. To Master 14 he plays best friend – how could you dog me, mate? I thought we were friends….

With them all, he plays on their weaknesses…

My son sent me texts abusing me – swearing, name calling…. identical to the ones his father was sending me… so I assume they were sitting beside each other on the couch, as they do, sending messages, laughing and attacking…

So how do I do this parenting thing? I want to run away… I am so exhausted by the tightrope… I can’t keep everyone balanced and happy… and when he isn’t getting his way, it’s always my fault…

I was talking to someone the other day about living in a country town. That everyone saw the nice guy and told me how lucky I am, what a great guy he is…. The friend I was talking to about it looked at me and laughed and said – oh come, on… no-one actually said that surely… as if they would!

Another friend I tried to explain it to told me that at least I hadn’t experienced real domestic violence…

He told me himself once: Oh come on, you’re being a drama queen. You should be grateful. I never put you in hospital, although I wanted to…

He’d tell me: the only reason I don’t hit you is because if I start, I know I won’t stop until you’re dead… and then he’d punch a hole in the wall beside my head… sometimes with a hand around my throat… smash the door down to get to me if I locked it… throw things at me… smash anything near at hand…

When we broke up, at one point, he claimed he didn’t have a temper. The house was three years old and the car was two. I pointed out all the broken things and holes… Over the next two weeks, he fixed them all…. so none of it ever happened…

We lived on a farm… no neighbours… no witnesses…

The kids still tell stories of what he did to the animals… I didn’t do the farm stuff so I didn’t realise… but they remember….

But no-one else knows… because most of it was mind games…

And now his eldest son does the same things… or tries…. and I find myself confused and frightened once again… I lose myself in those feelings and memories… I wake some nights unable to breathe… Some days there will be a memory and I panic… I hear a noise outside or a creak within, and it all comes flooding back… I run a mile from any guy who might even vaguely, possibly, kind of have a temper or any need to manipulate and control…

But I’m fine. Life goes on. I’m strong. Ask anyone. They’ll all tell you tiny snippets of things they might know or may have heard… but none of them really know… and you tell me there’s no such thing as PTSD from DV….

One of my closest friends died almost a year ago, and a part of me is still so damned angry with her! If she’d had regular pap smears, she’d still be here today… And she had to know… and I’m pretty sure she did… and she was scared… but then, when they said the words – maybe a month, probably less – she just went to another place… acceptance… happiness… I think she was just so tired of fighting life…

I look at my son and my heart breaks. I see the vision of who he may become.. the man ready to emerge… but it’s smothered by the anger and the sadness and the hatred boiling within…

I shared this on FB the other day:

dep

his response – well said, mum…

Because this is the bit that people don’t seem to understand. They think that today is a good day, but you’re laughing, you had a fun time… then they take it personally – aren’t I good enough to make you happy, why would you think of killing yourself when you have people who love you, if you love me you wouldn’t even…

They don’t understand the despair… My son tells me – you don’t understand mum, even when I’m having the best time and I’m laughing, I’m still so angry inside…

And anger is a secondary emotion… we know that… but how do you find your way past it to find the primary emotion?

Sometimes, when he is in the midst of his darkest moments and he is talking to me (so yes, they probably aren’t even the darkest moments)… when he sends me photos of his latest cuts to show he hasn’t cut too deep and that he’s not going to bleed to death… when he promises me he will get someone to let me know he is safe at least if he runs… when he refuses to promise what he can’t give you… Sometimes… in these moments… I feel myself drawn down into those depths… and there is so much raw emotion… so much anger and sadness and despair and hatred and…I can’t stay there… I can’t even describe the blackness of it all….

And it’s in these moments… these fleeting, fleeting moments… when my heart is shattering and I just can’t see a way through it all to find him… to hug him… to let him know i am here…. because he can’t hear anyone at these moments… he’s locked himself so deeply within that there’s just no opening…

In these moments…. I understand suicide… I understand why…. and it’s in these fleeting, fleeting moments that I think the unthinkable… at least he will finally find some release… finally be free of this darkness… because how can anyone live with that all the time? How can you possibly live so deeply in that well and survive?

They are fleeting. I want my son. Alive. I want him to be happy, but I’ve been told that’s not something I can qualify… I want him healthy. I want all the things I am supposed to want… but deep down, what I really want is my little boy back. I want to hug him and to hold him and to reach him… I want to find him again and drag him out of that mess. I want to go back in time and undo this mess somehow. To fix it somewhere back when I could. To insist. And a part of me wants to go so far back that I don’t have him at all – because then he wouldn’t be hurting so much… because he tells me this – he can’t forgive me, because I’m the reason he was born… so I want to fix even that for him… because there is nothing in this world that destroys you as much as watching your child in so much pain… and you can’t fix it…

alice

I’ve loved this quote since I can remember… it just sums up my days so well at times 🙂

I knew who I was yesterday. I knew the path I was on and the vague direction I was heading… but three simple conversations, a text message and an overheard plan… and a new path has appeared to the right…

Three conversations. All about the other person. One has finally left his unhappy marriage, one is not coping with the twists of life, and one has just had his heart broken…

A text message, or lack thereof… one of those ones that just seems to clarify you’re making the same mistakes….

An overheard plan – hatched by my two munchkins… They’d asked if this course was possible and I said – sure, but your father will object…. and suddenly, they are chatting to each other and their friends, working out how to make this a reality…

And suddenly… I find my world is tilted yet again and that path I was on no longer holds appeal… I find myself physically leaning to the right as these thoughts swirl… towards that new path…

I need silence and I need words…

I can’t tell when I’m being manipulated… and I can’t take the chance that this time it’s real…

He just called me during class.

I want credit.

No.

Please!

No.

But mum…

And so it goes… He starts chatting… telling me he’s a satanist and his friend is a necromancer… He needs to call his girlfriend because she hasn’t been at school this week and won’t talk to him… and last week she slit her wrists…

I can’t follow most of his chatter… most of it’s for show. He’s in class. His teacher is telling him to get off the phone. I know I should hang up on him. That’s supporting his teacher. Supporting the school rules. Teaching him boundaries. But… what if he just needs to talk. If right at this moment, he’s feeling a bit more lost than usual and he really just needs to talk to me right this second…

So I can’t hang up…

Somewhere in the garble, he tells me his dad is taking him to the GP later this week to get anti-depressants…. Ummm, who has diagnosed you with depression?! Of course I’m depressed mum… Honey, there’s so many other things that could be going on in your head, and it’s really important you have a full mental health assessment so they can find the primary cause and give you the right treatment…. Mum! I think I know whether I’m depressed or not. *Dad’s gf* went cause she’s OCD about cleaning so they gave her some pills and she’s good now….

OMG….

I am too far away. He’s 14. My head is spinning in a mess about this… If they give him the wrong medication and treat the wrong thing….

OMG…

How do you sit so far away and deal with this without going insane? Without having your heart shred over and over?

It’s okay mum… mum? Are you there? It’s okay… I just need credit… I need to call *my gf* and make sure she’s okay… Did I tell you I’m a satanist now? There’s a spirit looking over my shoulder. Protecting me. That’s why I didn’t fall. It’s four storeys – did you see that? Or three really – I was standing on the fourth. If I fell, I’d die… I was just hanging there by my arms, conquering my fears mum, you know I hate heights, scares the %$^ out of me… but this spirit is protecting me. Satan sent him… Mum? Can you send me some credit… please mum! I had a panic attack yesterday…. Can I smoke if I come stay with you? What about outside?… You know how you always say – you get more flies with honey mum? You don’t you know, you get bees. And did you know, you get more junkies with ecstasy… Please can I have some credit? No, don’t hang up… I really just want to talk to you mum… I want to live with you… Please can you move here? I won’t smoke in your house…

How did we get here?

  
This is my son… No, there’s nothing between him and the road… No, he isn’t wearing any safety gear…. Seriously, can you SEE any safety gear? What exactly do you mean when you ask that?!?

My son is not making the wisest of choices… Obviously… But so many people are actually more stupid than he is! The questions… The comments… The constant judgment! 

Because you just don’t know… You have absolutely no idea. 

You should just tell him not to do it. Tell him it’s stupid. Tell him… 

I’m past burring up at the diatribe though… Because they can’t help their stupidity… Their thoughtlessness… Because they just don’t understand…

People think mental health is attention seeking. A self indulgent sulk. 

This child and I were talking recently about suicide. I said to him – there’s worse things than death. You could end up a physical vegetable with your mind still active and engaged within. You could end up with chronic, debilitating pain for the rest of your life. You could…. 

But mum! Mum! Listen… Do you know what’s worse than suicide?! Do you know what’s worse than death?!

Yes… That’s what I’m trying to tell you… There’s worse things than…

Depression.

Depression is worse than death. 

Realistically, things are good… But oh my god… I am shattered…

The week from hell last week. The teen boy and his issues. The ex and his extreme narcissism. My health issues. Finished the week with two hours in hospital gluing Miss 9’s head together Friday night… And then Master (now) 8’s bday party for the whole class (plus extras) on Saturday.

On a good note, I now know so many kids and parents and have several confirmed and pending play dates sorted with coffee for the mums – so socially, a definite win 🙂

Results for some of the tests today…

1. Mammogram and ultrasound – nothing worrying. Seems to be a ridge (whatever that means), so keep an eye on it, but don’t worry…

2. Blood test – all good (yay!!) except iron… Which I expected. So okayish…. But need some adjustments to my diet…

3. Left with a other referral – need a pelvic X-ray – before the gyno who apparently will more than likely elect to laser my uterus… Hmmm…

4. Blood pressure – first good reading last night :))) Bad again this morning though… As dr said though, it’s all over the place and impossible at the moment with everything else going on.

5. Skin – and there’s the fall… Took a biopsy. I didn’t realise that would happen. I thought they’d look and decide to do whatever.. Later… So a chunk (or two?) out of my chest. Stitches. No beach for a couple of days 😥 Results in two weeks and stitches out… She’s pretty adamant it’s a basal cell carcinoma… So now we’ll see what the biopsy says.

So I’m shattered. I want to lie in the cold salt water, feel the sand slip between my fingers and toes, and feel everything simply wash away…. But no beach… :/

And once again, I feel alone…. Lying on the cold, hard bed, waiting for the anaesthetic to kick in… left thinking about other times I’ve taken myself off for tests and treatments… thinking of all the times I have done these things completely alone…. and actually wondering, has there ever been a time I’ve had someone come alone? The answer seems to be a no. Certainly not during my married years and certainly not since. So many tests and fears. All faced on my own. Exhaustion talking, I know… :p