Confession #21

So much time has passed since my last confession. Two and a half years to be exact. So - I guess this confession will be more of an update than a confession...maybe toward the end.
Since the last confession I spent a month abroad - it changed me forever. I cannot get enough of it.
Ex now has two ex's...lol. Ratface continued to harass me, belittle me, and attempt to make my life more like hell than it already was. I guess I won (?).
I settled out of court the day before court with Ex. My adult children were willing to testify against their father but I knew - for two of them - it was not what they preferred.
In addition to having Ex harassing me, my attorney, who used up my inheritance without seeing a single day in court, kept trying to talk me out of it. It was very hard fighting against them both but when ex agreed to his sister never seeing our children AND giving me both legal and physical custody - I had to settle.
It hurts, even at this writing, to think about; tears sting my eyes and burn burn my senses.
For so long I visualized my day in court and to a certain extent I feel like I let myself down. Truth be known, it was the fear of owing my attorney more money and mine was all gone. That was it. She was not going to fight for me...This $400/hour attorney that I knew was my dog in the fight - turned her fangs on me and with a smile - counted the reasons why I shouldn't go to court.
During this last year, I was in a car accident that totaled my car - my fault. Five days later I slipped and hit my head on hard ice and my already rattled brain sustained a significant concussion the week before finals. I failed one of my finals but fortunately because of good grades - I passed the class.
The following semester was excruciating. Trying to absorb anything with a concussion when my short-term memory and communication skills had been impacted so hard - it's a miracle I graduated - with honors no less.
Now I have relocated away from ex, I started a new job with a boss who is a highly dysfunctional bitch in her own class - I continue to struggle.
But here's the thing. It's a different struggle. Yeah, I would love for someone to come along and solve my problems...kind of. I wish Prince Charming would save the day...not really.
What I want is to become so good at what I do, so confident in who I am and what I bring to the table, that I call the shots.
I don't want anyone fixing me or saving my day because then it is they who earn the titles and ribbons and I am still the same - unchanged. I live for that change. That moment that I know I am more today than I was yesterday. That knowing that I just advanced a new level and though it means the fight is tougher - It also means I am tougher, stronger, smarter, more capable, more of who I aim to be.
This is my life. This is my "game" and I've gotten myself this far damn it. I am going to keep fighting and not look back.
My boss is a lesson. She's providing me an opportunity to develop a thicker skin, a quicker mind and constant fuel not to give up the fight.
My confession #21?
I've had sex after years of going without and it was amazing - yes. But it wasn't what I really want/need. Have you any idea what that is?
Love, intimacy, companionship, trust, significance, confidence, joy, faith, fun, accomplishment, friendship, adventure and so much more.
Sex is significant and I'm glad I did it. BUT - if I have learned anything over these past three years - it's that I have to provide that for myself.
I know - not as satisfying as the end I have in mind but - I'm not near the end. Death is my end and so having said that...I hope you'll follow me at my new blog, "Waking Aphrodite." It's my journey from the ashes, from the rubble and the process of embracing the qualities only found in a sleeping goddess.

Confession #20

One week from today will be a year since Ex strangled my son. One year ago today I was illegally evicted from my home by the wife of my deceased brother. One week, one day, one year - one moment is all it takes to derail your life and set you on a completely different course.
My son is fine though he suffers from guilt for what his father did. Guilt that he feels the way he does and feels bad if he isn't nice to his father.
My "sister-in-law" has since tried to contact me to make ammends but you know what Oprah says. "When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time." Needless to say, I've not responded.
Me? I've no guilt. Not about them anyway. At this moment I feel nothing but distaste for wasting so much time on a man that doesn't deserve to be the father of my children. Anyone's children. Distaste for who and what he is and allows himself to be. I am not the pillar of humanity but I was obviously the spine of his goodwill, integrity and conscious. I can see his new wife through him, his actions. The crazy way he behaves. He's a coward, a fraud, a leech and she's the viper that is squeezing out of him the benefits of my existane in his life.
Yeah, not much here other than complete numbness towards them. Guess I'm just taking this last year in.
Today I came across a quote by John Porter. He said, "People underestimate their cpaacity for change. There is never a right time to do a difficult thing."
He's right. I can't imagine ever finding a "right time" to derail the train called, "my life."

Confession #19

Mediation took place this last week and I have to say that I was not surprised. I did feel hopeful for about five seconds during the process but that was soon dashed with the reality of who I was dealing with.
The mediator was nice but I grew angry when she tried to sell me on a deal that was basically status quo. She tried to tell me it was more than I would get in court and she may be right. But after much debate I told her, and my attorney, that I would rather lose in a court in front of a judge than to sell my soul to him. That the deal he offered would make me his bitch and that was not going to happen on my watch. That I've tried to be nice with him and Ratface. I've tried and to agree to what they offered would be tantamount to psychological suicide.
So court it is. I probably will lose, given that I live in a community that has the "good ol' boy" mentality. The judicial system here would rather lie with filth and wash each others back with the blood of those they continue to victimize rather than to stand for the justice to which they swore they'd seek for the people and community they serve.
So...sacrificial lamb, I am not. Fed up and tired, I am.
When I lose, I will scrape myself up off the floor with my head held high. I will dare the offenders to look me in the eye. I will spit on the court steps (unless it's illegal and then I'll just think about it but because I'm bad at spitting that's probably what will end up happening anyway), and I will move on knowing that I've done everything that I can to right the wrong. That I've done all I can to fight for myself and that, while this loss is painful and symbolic in so many ways, there are greater fields out there for me to fight on and the battle lost to Ex is insignificant because either way, I win in the end. I am not bound to his tierany, or that of his wives. I will move somewhere far when I'm done with my education and I will forget that they exist (except in the lives of my children, of course).
As I sat in a church meeting today I was going through my little pocket notebook and came across a quote by Antonio Machado.

"Traveler, there is no path,
the path must be forged as you walk.

Traveller, the path is your tracks
And nothing more.
Traveller, there is no path
The path is made by walking.
By walking you make a path
And turning, you look back
At a way you will never tread again
Traveller, there is no road
Only wakes in the sea.”

Confession #18

Do you remember the scene in "Indiana Jones, Temple of Doom" where the little boy accidentally triggers a mechanism and the ceiling in the small room that he and Indiana are in starts to lower? Spears come through the floor and ceiling and Indiana is beginning to slouch and crouch lower as he yells at Willie Scott to pull the lever to stop it? That's how I'm feeling right now except I don't know who to yell at to pull "the lever" to stop this horrific time in my life.
Now, I don't mean to sound dramatic but right now, my life is one drama after another and as mediation and the court date loom nearer, I'm ready to bolt. I want to bolt. But bolting isn't an option when you have children.
To add to this climatic month - it'll be one year on April 29th since Ex strangled my son. One year ago that I became homeless with four children. One year ago that I really began to realize that I knew nothing of the depths that Ex could sink.
Tie into that, finals for college that involves a section of the last three weeks of school called, "the affliction."
My itenerary:

• One month anniversary of Ex strangling my son
• Motherly duties
• College
• Mediation
• Finals
• The Affliction

Holy hell, I think I'm ripe for a heart-attack, stroke and/or a visit to a padded room. I feel better already realizing that maybe, just maybe, I have a reason to be stressed.

Confession #17

My day in court cannot come soon enough. I'm ready to "spit fire" and "damn the torpedos."
More catty emails from Ex and Ratface. How they can call themselves "Christian" is beyond me.
This last week was my babies spring concert at school. I kindly shared the information with Ex and he and Ratface showed! Imagine that.
Afterwards I went into the hallway to lather my daughter with praise and kisses only to be cut off by Ratface as Ex looked on. I wanted to grab her fat round body and kick her to the curb but love of my daughter curbed my desire and I stood by until "she" finished playing "mommy."
It's funny. They don't want to be there for any of the day in, day out requirements of parenting but they'll be there with bells on if it means they get to be in the spotlight and garner some good-time memories.
Now Ex, in his email, accuses me of undermining him and urges me to not punish our daughters.
I'm so tired of being under-estimated and treated like a low-life criminal.
I will never have my ending like the movies. The judge will not wave his gavel at Ex and shame him, ordering him to make restituion in full, plus 20 percent and give me all I asked for. He won't order Ratface to wear a sign for a month of every year that says, "BEWARE! I'm an abusive, jealous Bitch dressed in church clothing, and I'm a menace to society." And my children will not run up to me knowing all I've sacrificed for them.
My children will never know the pain I suffer keeping my mouth shut to protect them and the strength and courage it takes to say nice things about their father.
No, I won't have it. Honestly, I'm not sure what I'll have. The day of "mediation" looms near and court will follow, I'm sure.
What I do have seems insignificant but who can place a price on integrity, self-respect and virtue? Those are my traits, my gifts, my tools. They help me go another day hoping one day...One day maybe my children will realize in some part all I've endured for them.
Until then...Easter is coming. I believe resurrection is in the air. Maybe even mine.

Confession #16

I'm depressed.
I don't want to do anything.
It feels like things just keep getting worse for me.
I keep holding out for justice, karma, even the tides to turn and... nothing.
It just keeps getting worse.
At school I'm experiencing moderate success.
Moderate.
At home...
At home I'm experiencing defeat.
Or at least it feels like defeat.
I'm afraid and tired.
Tired.
Afraid that the seeds of my labor are not taking root.
Tired because I stand alone.
Sometimes I think, "Disappear."
Other times I just want to kill myself.
I think, "Then maybe,
then maybe Ex will be sorry for how horrid he is to me.
Maybe then he'll feel guilt."
But he wouldn't.
He would chalk my suicide up to leaving the church and being a heathen.
Of course she'd kill herself. 
He'd say to himself.
She no longer had the "gospel" in her life.
Gospel...
Ha!
More like brainwashing and foolery.
I asked a professor how I could do better.
He told me that I seem to always ask for permission.
That I need to be more confident in my work.
Confident.
How am I suppose to be confident?
And how do I explain myself without sounding like a whiney baby?
A pathetic, self-pitying woman?
I don't.
I can't.
So...
I keep moving forward.
Put one foot in front of the other.
Depressed I may be,
but even depression can't define me.
I'm more than this moment in time.
I'm more than anything Ex could tell himself about me.
I'm more than the need to have society tell me they're sorry.
I am more than even I believe.
And I know this for sure.
I know this because every time I push past the pain,
that I step outside of my comfort-zone,
that I dare to reach for more and reject old dialogue,
I see the reflection of a woman I've not seen before.
I feel courage that didn't exist before.
I no longer have to endure the pain that plagued me before
because it no longer confounds me.
So I continue to wander the Sahara of my today.
Put one foot in front of the other,
praying that the oasis ahead
is not a mirage.
And that soon I'll be drinking
cool, crisp water
from a jeweled goblet
amongst those who took this journey
and won.
Those who earned the title,
"Captain of my ship, Master of my soul."
Those who cheer me from beyond my sight
and that I will someday call, "friend."
Until that time...
I will not quit.

Confession #15

"Uncle!" I give.
I can't think of a time that my children have personally hurt me more than my two little girls do now. And if not my girls alone, then my boys along with them.
When I took my baby to school this week she asked me when I was going to get a new car. My car isn't even three years old but her father, who leased his car, traded it in for a new one. So DisneyDad gets to have new cars, new carpet, new furniture, new wife, new, new, new...he is also taking them to Disneyland for the second time this coming summer. I've not been able to take them once. I live in an apartment with used furniture that is torn, can't afford a trip to the movies for all of us let alone a vacation to Disneyland.
The big blow; my baby referred to Warthog as "mom" when she was talking to me. You would think my girls to be expert swords-women what with the accuracy of their "strikes." Straight into the heart every time. Ev-ver-ry time.
You know, if Warthog was a decent woman who treated me with respect it wouldn't hurt so much. But she isn't and doesn't. She is an evil and spiteful subhuman form that has charmed my daughters. The same daughters that I suffered greatly to bring into this world and would die for want to be like her.
Then my #3 son, who said he no longer had a father, decided to invite Ex to his surgery this week. Fortunately he asked him to come alone and while I'm glad he is reaching out to his father, I'd rather not deal with him.
Our oldest daughter has had some health problems requiring physical therapy and Ex refused to help pay. I got an email telling me to read paragraph 15, section 3. I wanted to reply with, "Read the contract you signed and had notorized promising to pay for the medical needs of the children," or "You prove, on an increasing basis, that your word, spoken or written, holds as little value to you as it does to everyone else," and then my last response which was deleted with the others was, "Shame on you."
Instead I wrote to my attorney. "I need for this to be over. I've no tongue left to bite and my soul dies a little bit every time I have to deal with him."