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You Are Not Allowed Here

“I told myself if you ever behaved this way again, I would not allow you in this house ever again and I will take all the kids and you will never see them again.” 

That is what my husband told me Saturday morning. Because Friday night I was drunk and pissed off. We argued. I made the mistake of trying to talk with him and it didn’t go well. What I did was play into his gaslighting game. The alcohol impaired my judgement. I called him names. I told him to get the fuck away from me and leave me alone. I hurt his feelings. And then, because I was drunk and could not leave myself, I called the police and got a ride. Bad choices on my part. I’m ashamed of myself, but I was told that I did the right thing, removing myself from the situation. He locked me out of the house but I had a key, he was unaware of this. I was able to get back in several hours later and he was not happy. I went straight to bed. 

We spoke the following morning. I apologized for my behavior. I spoke with the children and apologized. I did not make excuses, but I offered explanations for my actions. I had just experienced an extremely emotionally charged week. Meeting with an attorney. Beginning to pack up the house. Going through 21 years of memories. I looked to him for some support. Some understanding. Some help. And yes, stupid me. I even looked for some stupid sign that he did not want this divorce. I got nothing. Zero. Zilch. I got a cold uncaring man who didn’t even lift a finger to help with the physical labor that’s required to pack up and get a large home ready to sell. So I drank. I drank a lot. 

I will never do that again. 

The good news is that I now feel at peace with my place. I’m sober. I accept this divorce is coming. I see a man who truly will never see his role in the demise of the marriage. He blames me. I was drunk and said mean things. He believes that is far worse than carrying on in an affair for nearly a year and lying to hide it. From stealing money away from our family, and from his own elderly parents, to fund the affair. He made poor choices and wants forgiveness. No one else here is afforded the same treatment. I don’t make poor choices, I am a bad person. This is what he tells me. It used to work. I’d believe him and desperately try to change. Beg for forgiveness. No more. Never again. 

I won’t drink and behave like I did Friday because I have self -respect. And it’s growing. I deserve more than this life he is giving me. I do not accept this any longer. And I will not let him think he can scare me into submission through threats of being kicked out and taking my children from me. Everything that happened Friday night was documented. I was treated at the hospital for dehydration and I have a significant heart murmur that was heard in my exam. And he told my children I ran off, he didn’t know where I was, but the hospital records show he called to see if I made it there and the police officer who transported me wrote a report stating they told him where I was going. I spoke with a social worker about the emotional abuse I’ve suffered but that I was not suicidal. I was labeled as being cooperative and rational yet emotionally abused. I was also labeled as not being a threat to myself or anyone else.  All was documented and I signed the report. And I had to take a cab home because he would not come and pick me up. That was documented too. 

We began the arduous task of filling out the dissolution paperwork yesterday. It’s no surprise he tried to manipulate me into giving up spousal support. He says I have somewhere to live, rent free, so I won’t need the money. He wants to stay in this house.  He still thinks the manipulation he has used all these years will work. I put a stop to that real fast. He understands me now. He understands that none of this will happen. I will be fair and reasonable but I will get my own attorney and fight him at the first sign that he tries anything unfair or deceptive. And because he kept me trapped here without a job for so long, he can suffer the consequences. He did that. Not me. On some level, I know I had a hand in that, but I also know I was emotionally abused into this situation. And I’m clearly stating that. 

I don’t hate him. I actually feel sorry for him. I feel sad that he will never know how great life and love can be. The only person he cheats from this day forward is himself. Me? I’m a survivor. I’m no longer a victim. 

I’m keeping my contact with him to a minimum, to avoid confrontation from this day forward. And I feel better already. 

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