It has been 33 months since my life went from one world to another.
33 months since PC announced his affair, his proclamation that he was leaving me, and the start of his insanity.
It’s been 33 months that have included verbal harassment, threats, lies, court dates, multiple contempts-of-custody on his part, a PFA, a police call, countless hours and tens of thousands of dollars in legal fees (thanks, Dad…)
Its been wasted appointments with a co-parent counselor. Its been days and hours and weeks of anxiety. Sleepless nights. Worries about my kids. Public fights. Gossip. Its been feeling no matter what I do, he manages to get the upper hand. It’s been financial struggles. Its been the trauma of dealing with both the aftermath of being married to an alcoholic and the chronic fear of letting my children spend time with an unstable person who hates my guts.
Its been 33 months which contained a few moments of peace; of breathing room. Its been 33 months that have been sprinkled with blessings…my home. My relationship with my kids. My freedom. Its afforded me authenticity. Its forced me to deal with my own issues and, at the risk of sounding cheesy, spread my wings.
But mostly, its been fucking difficult.
A week ago, PC’s summer of the bender came to a head in which Trollup left him with all of the children due to a drunken escapade. We are now thrown into a new norm. I have full custody of my children (for a time.) They have been traumatized. This trauma was elevated when our dog tried to kill himself this week by eating sugarfree gum. (PSA: Xylotil is toxic to dogs!! Two grand later…ours is thankfully still alive.)
But herein lies the game-changer. For the first time, in 33 months, I have a win. An upper hand. The thing everyone said would happen, did. PC has dug himself into a hole. His initial claims that he would seek help/AA/rehab for his drinking issue proved to be nothing but smoke and mirrors. He has done very little and as much as this saddens me for my kids, it will work in my favor when we go to court next month.
What do I say about this? I have 0 faith in PC. The fact that his week has consisted of “relaxing dinners out” and visits to tomato festivals while I pick up the pieces of two broken kids says a lot. The fact that Trollup signed her kid over to her ex and chose to stand by her man…no consequences there. I’m angry, distraught, stressed and hurt for my kids.
But I have the upper hand. Discussions with friends today brought forth one very valid point: let the chips fall where they may. PC is digging his own grave. He had EVERY chance in the world to use this incident to get help and instead, he’s just going about life as normal; probably drinking on the sly and blaming me for everything. Meanwhile I have a 12 year old who misses his father and tells his friends “my dad’s in rehab and I can see him soon” and an 8 year old who isn’t talking. (And a 7 year old canine on liver medication for toxicity…)
Its a terrible situation. No kid should have to go through a parent drunkenly screaming while the step parent throws them into a car to leave. No kid should have to go through being separated from a parent because the other parent had to get emergency custody. No kid should have to feel as if their parent’s behavior depends on them. It makes me so angry and irate to hear PC tell the kids on speaker phone “Maybe you guys can call me tonight. It would make me feel better about everything.” Way to go PC. Put your kids through hell and then ask them to make you feel better.
However…the underlying beauty of this is that finally, finally…PC has done something he can’t lie about, take back, or smooth over. I’m sure he will try but…33 months of documenting his behavior, his treatment of me and the kids, his insanity and most importantly, his alcohol abuse…this will finally, finally come into play.
This isn’t how I wanted karma to work. But I suppose its better than my kids being in a drunk driving accident with him, or being in the car when he gets pulled over. It could have been worse. And several days after, when we brought our big, stinking, dopey dog home after he nearly died, I could see the relief in the kids eyes. I could feel the security they felt being home, in our house, with our sweet dog and friends who take care of us and I’m certain they never get that feeling elsewhere.
33 months is a long fucking time. I’m tired of living this way, always under PC’s thumb and waiting for his reactions and gauging what I do and what I say around the kids because I don’t know what he will throw back in my face.
This is not over yet. But if karma has finally kicked in…well, take a bow. It’s about time.