Fleeing the Bastille Anniversary

Oh what a difference a year makes. I wish you could see and compare my old drivers license picture with my new one that I got last week.

It's all in the eyes.

Last year on the 26th of June, I sat at my parents' dining table not knowing what the future would look like for us. All I could think of was the worse case scenarios - having to foreclose on my house, losing everything, filing for bankruptcy and the fear of heinous things vileman may have done prior to being caught.

The last six months of 2008 were so uncertain, but by December I was feeling pretty darn good. The first of that month, I went back to the old place to pack up some toys for the kids and to sign some paperwork at my lawyer's office. His paralegal was shocked when I gave her my drivers license (the old one) for her to write down my DL number in her notary book. She gasped and said I looked nothing like that lady in the picture. I joked and said that yes, I had definitely aged over the last six months and she insisted that wasn't it, that the picture depicts a very sad woman.

That old photo just screams "help me".

The paralegal wasn't the only one that day to notice. Prior to heading to the lawyer' office, I stopped at my swimming buddy's house to drop off the entire "Left Behind" book series, where her 12 year old son looked at me and said "you look different."

I guess I was wearing a new attitude.

2009 has been the year of transition . . . it started off perfect with the divorce finalized on January 6th, the selling of the house in April and (keeps fingers crossed) this fall, I hope to find a job and return to work after 6 years of being a stay-at-home mom.

Those first few weeks last June, I slept with a large, heavy, lucite award given to my dad in 2000. What little sleep I got, you could bet my fingers were tightly grasped on that odd security blanket/protection. I kept my fears to myself, but the boy voiced them out loud - "I'm scared he is going to come and kill you because you didn't bail him out of jail". That is so sad, yet he knew, at age 11 (at that time), that vileman might be capable of violence.

I believe the book "The Sociopath Next Door" says one in 25 people are a sociopath and suggests the best way to avoid one that was previously in your life, is to ignore them. The author counsels not to try and spar with them because you cannot reason with a sociopath.

On April 6th, when we closed on our house, the realtor asked me if I needed to be in a separate room from vileman. I assured her I would be okay and I sat next to him. I was very civil and made small talk with our realtor and on occasion with vileman. At one point he had to excuse himself from the table because he had started crying. I chose to ignore his tears. Afterwards when I was getting in my car, he pulled me toward him for a very uncomfortable, awkward and unwanted hug.

I used a pay-as-you go cell phone when I lived there. It was the best plan for me at that time because I never talked on my cell phone and only kept it for emergencies. I kept it going when I moved up here because my lawyer and realtor lived there and they wouldn't have to phone me long distance because my number was a local number for them. On the evening of April 7th, that cell phone rang and it was vileman. Just as casual as could be, he reminded me that "Rescue Me" was coming on that night. What the heck? The man had caused my family agonizing pain and he was calling me like nothing had happened. I said thank you and hung up.

The phone was immediately turned off and it will never be turned back on.

There was no reason to ever have contact with him after the house was sold and his wages were garnished for child support and paid through that system. Time to implement the ignoring him strategy.

I used to get 5 emails along with two typed letters via certified delivery every week. He also includes letters to the kids which I will never give to them. No contact means no contact. He provokes me in the letters, but I know it is just an attempt to get a reaction from me. Since ignoring him, the emails are showing up only once a week and the mailed letters have almost stopped (though I did receive one late last week).

The best way to deal with vileman's actions, is to remind myself that he feels no shame, no remorse, no love. He is a robot.

The emails and letters he sends I read with my eyes wide open, telling myself he is a psychopath/sociopath ped-o-vile. I'm like an English teacher grading a student's paper. I take out my red pen and break down the letters, circling key phrases and writing out beside them what his intent really is.

Right now he is accusing me of alienating my children from him. He will cite that he was their primary caretaker (what!) and that they are being deprived a loving father. (A loving father who left his family penniless for 45 days and when he found a new job making $120,000/year, refused to pay child support for four months so that he could, instead, pay for his criminal lawyer.)

What I'm doing is called protecting. And I have the power of a divorce decree which outlines that he has no access or possession to those sweet babies.

Speaking of those sweet babies, they are doing beautifully. The boy even mentioned how relaxed his baseball games were without vileman coaching him from the bleachers through out the entire game.

Who knew losing 185 pounds of vileness would feel and look so good.

Welcome to Oz!

Maybe a better title would be First Comes Denial then (if you are lucky) Comprehension.

Do you think the Scarecrow and the Tinman were sociopaths?

Switching movie genres, do you remember that scene in the movie Sixth Sense where Bruce Willis realizes the little boy can see dead people and Bruce's character quickly goes through all the past events and realizes that he (Bruce) ***spoiler alert*** . . . . is . . . (gulp) . . . dead?

That is exactly what happened to me after I finished reading the book "Without Conscience: The Disturbing World of the Psychopaths Among Us" and realized that vileman fit most of the characteristics to a T.*

All of vileman's questionable behaviors through the years, played out in fast motion in my brain . . . and I finally knew what he was.

To back up a bit, over the course of the first month in counseling, the Healer begin to refer to vileman as anti-social. Then it was suggested, gently, that he exhibited sociopath/psychopath characteristics based on some of the events I told her about. I never could grasp that he was a psychopath/sociopath. I didn't want to believe that someone I was with for 13 years could have no remorse and be heartless. Also, I was thinking more on the lines of him being a sick ped-0 -vile. Seems I hit the jackpot - I got the psycho ped-o-vile.

The Healer recommended I read the above mentioned book and after leaving her office that morning, I headed to B&N to purchase the book. I didn't read it right away because I was still in that denial phase but after two weeks, I finally picked it up.

I was mesmerized and quickly found a highlighter to underline passages. At the next counseling session, I brought my highlighted copy of the book and sat down on the Healer's couch. The first words out of my mouth were "I should have known."

She assured me that when it is in your face all the time, you can't see it, as in "you can't see the trees for the forest."

The Healer went over all the characteristics highlighted in the book, then I would give an example. I won't bore you with the characteristics but instead, will tell you about an event that occurred early on in our relationship. After reading this you are going to think "girl, you are stupid"!

I had a very high tolerance of putting up with his behavior. He could do something so rude or unfeeling, and I would think to myself "what is wrong with him?" For many years, I thought I had settled for someone like him, but the truth is, he chose me.

Once, long ago, I was about six weeks pregnant when I begin to spot. It was on a Saturday morning, so vileman took me to the emergency room. After the doctor examined me, he said I was still pregnant but probably was going to miscarry and needed to go home, relax and get off my feet. When we were leaving the ER, vileman asked me if I wanted to go eat at Olive Garden. I looked at him like he was crazy. Did he not hear the doctor tell me to go home and lie down? When I reminded him and suggested that maybe he could place a to-go order from there he replied in a whiny voice "but then I can't get refills on the salad or get extra breadsticks". (Inside my brain: What is wrong with him!?)

The next morning, I woke up with horrible cramping. I asked vileman to please call my OB/GYN. Instead of acknowledging me, he asked me to give him a B J. (Yep, you read that right.) I remember being shocked and yelling at him that I was having a miscarriage and he wanted me to perform a s** act!?! (Inside my brain: What is wrong with him!?)

Later that night, since I had ruined his weekend - no Olive Garden and no BJ, he decided that he was the true victim and begin crying and boo hooing about the miscarriage as if he were the one experiencing it.

I should have walked out the door and never looked back.

But I didn't.

Girl, you stooooopid!

I didn't, because I probably thought I could fix him. And vileman needed me, so he could mimic my emotions, since he was/is incapable of feeling any.

Unlike the scarecrow and the tinman, you can't fix a sociopath/psychopath. No great wizard can give vileman a conscious and a heart.

And when I finally understood what kind of person I had been dealing with, the light bulb went on. Acceptance of what vileman is and will always be has kept me sane and strong for the last few months . . . as I deal with his wrath toward me via emails and letters. . . my next post will be how I have been dealing with him since we closed on our house in April.


*Vileman has never been personally interviewed and given the Psychopath Checklist by a forensic psychiatrist. I just choose to believe he is one.

One Sliver of Pie at a Time, Lady

One scary thought running through my brain recently, has been this:

I went through a life-altering, stress filled year and I only managed to LOSE LESS THAN 15 POUNDS!!!!!!!!

Not only that, half of those pounds have crept back on, thanks to giddiness. Grrr.

So, back to doing what worked in the past:

• Eat healthier (the Dash diet worked when I lost 30 pounds in the past)
• Smaller portions
• Drink at least 8 glasses of water each day
• Keep a food journal
• Take vitamins
• Walk at least 5 times a week
• Weight training 3 times a week
• Yoga
• Meditation - quiet time
• Setting goals
• Weekly weigh-in

Put all the above into a pie chart with each representing a slice of pie. Some slices might be cut into slivers, for instance: Eat healthier would include only lean protein, high fiber, 8 to 10 vegetables per day, whole grains only, etc.

In the past, I tried to consume the whole pie on day one, which only set me up to fail. Now that I'm older and wiser, I have portioned out a few slivers for this week and when those are mastered, I will add a few more slivers.

Goals (slivers) for this week:

• Writing down everything I eat in a notebook (no calorie counting)
• Walk at least 3 times
• Drink 4 glasses of water per day
• Take my vitamins

In two days, I have already identified a bad habit - eating 6 year old's leftovers (by the way, 5 year old is now 6). I am not a human garbage disposal and I wasn't aware I was doing this until I started writing it down.

In the meantime, I have been re-reading my favorite diet books - not for a diet plan - but for tips and reading all your blogs for motivation.

Have a great day.

S-U-M-M-E-R!

Wow, the kids and I made it through the school year. Hip, hip hooray!

Last day of school was on Friday and as I watched 12 year old walk across the stage to receive a certificate for being on the honor roll for the entire school year, I was so proud of him for accepting the unexpected.

It wasn't easy at first. I remember the first day of school, he looked so awkward and self-conscious as I dropped him off. (He still looks awkward and self-conscious but so did all the other kids walking across the stage.) Twelve must be the most awkward age!

12 year old had a hard time leaving behind the old life and old friends. Several times a week he would ask if he could call some of his friends from our old life and though I would give in, the old life friends would never reciprocate the call. In other words, none of his old friends ever called him.

I started telling him "no" when he asked to call someone back there and would tell him to "call some new friends here, instead."

It's been almost three months since he has asked to call anyone from there and he enjoys texting here friends.

Not that I don't subscribe to "make new friends and keep those old" but I didn't want the boy to hear any gossip about his father (12 year old knows the truth).

Anyway, once baseball started, I think he begin to feel at home. Though he doesn't play catcher here (this team has several boys who also play on a select team, so their skills are a bit more advanced) he says he still enjoys playing. They will continue to play until the end of June. Karate goes year-round.

12 year old says he enjoyed the school year and all the field trips. (Back there, the kids got one field trip.) Two weeks ago, they went to the big city about 90 miles away to a restaurant that had knights fighting each other (didn't want to say the name) and the school chartered nice, air-conditioned buses to take the kids. This field trip was postponed because of the swine flu so I was very happy that they finally did get to go. His principal is a micro-manager, but he did plan a lot of fun things for the kids through-out the school year.

5 year old had a great year too and is currently reading on a third grade reading level. I don't think I knew how to read until I was 7. She played soccer in the spring and still has two more T-ball games left to play. Her dance recital was last night and I am ready for her activities to end!

I need a break.

I hope to be a better blogger now that my schedule will ease up a bit for a little while. I'm more of a reader/lurker than I am a writer these days.

Checking In

I got nothing new to report, just have been so busy with after-school activities and illness. When I do get on the internet I have been trying to read all of your blogs instead of blogging. I'm on dial-up and it is so slow that once I have read a few blogs, I have to either go pick-up children from school, or leave to take a child to a practice, dance class, or baseball/t-ball game.

Five year old had the coughing virus a couple of weeks ago that lasted for 10 days, then last week she threw-up around 11:30 pm and didn't stop dry heaving for 12 hours. She wouldn't try Helen's honey remedy and the promethazine gel (from an earlier pukey virus) didn't help. I NEVER want to see orzo pasta again. Ever. Never. Never. Never. Ever again!

I have been following the criminal trial court docket (vileman) and for the last two months his case was number 53 on the docket but I noticed on Tuesday, that it had been continued by agreement (CBA). Which tells me, they (the police/DA) have a good case against him and his lawyer is delaying the trial to keep him out of jail. Anybody out there really know what/why the defense attorney and the district attorney agree to delay a case?

The kids and I benefit (as long as he is still working) by collecting another month's of child support. Also, the vileman still owes me $$$$ on back child support payments and reimbursement of attorney fees. He owes about 50% of the note (I received all of his 43% portion of the equity in the house) and per the divorce decree those payments start in June.

Oops! Accidentally hit the publish button - Grrr.

School will be over with at the end of the month (Yippie) and I'm so happy that I was able to stay at home this past year, despite everything that has happened. But it is time for me to really (seriously, really) look for a job before vileman is shipped off to jail.

I have two posts running in my head and know I need to get them out here so I can "let go". One of them is about finding out vileman is probably a psychopath (I use the word probably, because he hasn't been interviewed and labeled that based on an evaluation. That is the word along with 'anti-social' that the healer has used in our sessions to describe him). I don't know why I can't sit down at the computer and write it out, but for some reason I would rather put it off. Hmmm.

Anyway, off to eat lunch. Have a great weekend.

Feeling Artsy Fartsy - Recession Style

This week I had a burst of artiness.

While cleaning out the girl's closet, putting away winter clothes and making room for the nice new spring wardrobe we had bought at Kohls, J.C. Penny's, Macy's and Target, I noticed most of her jeans had holes in the knees. Earlier in the year, I had patched a few of them with cute little iron on patches but since then, she had a wee growth spurt and some of those jeans were now highwaters.

The jeans still fit in the waist, so I cut the lower leg part off , hemmed or cuffed them to make shorts. (In my day, we just cut them off and washed them several times for the oh so cool "cut-offs" but I guess today that would be considered trashy.)

After a quick jaunt to Wally's where I picked up cute appliques, cute buttons and little sparkly diamond-like iron-on jewels, I proceeded to go through all her clothes that were too short, had holes in the knees and shirts with small stains on them.

A pair of very long jeans were cuffed (a large cuff) using iron-on hem tape, making them capri-length jeans. She had worn holes in the knee, so I patched them with "princess" style (not the Disney princesses, just the word "princess") appliques, pink and yellow flower appliques, and added pink beaded fringe to the bottom of the cuff.

Those jeans look so cute, if I say so myself.

A black tee shirt was revived with a large skull bones applique finished off with a nice sparkly, diamond grill/braces on his teeth. It was paired with "new" blue jean shorts which now have smaller skull bone appliques on their pockets. This is the girls favorite "new" outfit - she wore it today. It will have to be a weekend outfit because her school will not allow "skulls" on clothing.

One turquoise tee shirt that had small grease spots on it (my kids . . . even though they are given napkins, somehow little greasy fingers are still wiped on their clothes) became a one-of-a kind crystal design with a colorful butter fly applique and butter fly buttons sewed on strategically hiding any of the small spots. I added the same butterfly applique to a pair of her white shorts to make a set.

I did this all day Thursday and most of Friday morning. I matched shirts with other shorts/newly made shorts from jeans and was able to make six "new" short/tee shirt sets, three capri-length jeans and an extra two fancy tee shirts out of her out-grown in length pants, holey or slightly stained clothing.

Wished I would have done this before going to Kohls, J.C. Penny's, Macy's and Target.

Redistributing the Eggs in the Carton

I know some of you have probably heard of the egg-carton analogy:

In my carton there are three eggs. Two huge ostrich eggs and a small little robbin egg.

Think of the egg carton as a teeter-tauter/see-saw, with the two ostrich eggs taking up most of the carton on the right hand side leaving a little room on the left, which is empty and slightly lifted up in the air. The little robbin egg has slipped out of it's slot and is nestled up against the ostrich eggs, safe from falling out of the carton.

Obviously, the weight of the carton is not balanced.

The 12 year old and the 5 year old represent the ostrich eggs.

Over the past nine months, I have put all my energy into my two beautiful, broken hearted children, ignoring most of my own needs. I have held, hugged, reassured, soothed and wiped many tears from 12 y/o and 5 y/o but have never shed a tear for myself. The few tears that were blinked out were for others.

I needed a cleansing "woe is me" cry, yet for some reason, I refused to allow myself to cry. It's too late now and best of all, I currently do not feel like crying.

Leaving that city on the day that vileman was arrested was the best decision I made besides not bailing him out of jail (I am so proud of the way I handled his call from jail and so thankful I didn't rush to his aid). Had I not fled and instead, stayed in our home; I would have boarded up the house to keep vileman away then retreated to the bedroom, where I would have pulled the covers over my head and stayed there. Not leaving would have prevented us from moving forward and healing.

When we moved in with my parents, they were not going to allow me to wallow in despair. My priorities were the children. Their needs and my counseling sessions with the Healer have kept me from going coo-coo. Unfortunately, I completely threw all my time and energy into their activities, losing myself along the way.

Those two big ostrich eggs saved the little robbin egg from falling out of the egg carton but it's time to redistribute for balance.

The first egg to be placed on the left side will represent diet and exercise. I'm ready to focus on this part of my life and feel I'm going to be successful. No empty promises to myself this time. I already feel lighter thanks to a divorce and getting rid of the house and though I still maintain the original 15 pound weight loss since June 25th, it isn't significant enough to be noticeable in my clothes, face, butt and stomach. I have a plan that I started implementing last week and will talk about in a future post.

Second egg in my carton will be the need to focus on my mental health. I was seeing the Healer once a week up until my divorce in January. I quit going because I no longer had good insurance after the divorce that would allow me to go with just payment of my co-pay. To pay out of pocket would have been unaffordable. Also, the 5 year old "graduated" from counseling in December so I just assumed I had "graduated" too.

I heard from the Healer in February and she asked if I would be willing to come back and see her. She offered to see me on a pro-bono basis for four weeks. After those four weeks were up, she extended it for another four weeks . . . (how f*cked up am I?!).

Truth is, I love counseling and walk out of her office feeling lifted and empowered.

So for now, I plan to focus time on those two new eggs along with my children. With time, the carton will eventually fill up with more and more eggs representing other areas of my life; all equally distributed.

And as I redistribute my time, emotions and energy from fully focusing on my children, their ostrich size eggs will return to"normal" healthy sized eggs. This should help them progress on and no longer feel the responsibility of keeping mommy happy, fulfilled, and busy.