Ain't Nothin' Like the Real Thing: Divorce

Showing posts with label Divorce. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

You've GOT to be Kidding Me

Last year my ex took me to court in order to "get relief" from child support. Ok, fine. Sean hit 18. Never mind he's still at home healing from an emotional problem and finally inching back to his old self. He got his GED...and is finally looking at college again. But, you know, whatever.

As a sidebar to this pathetic story, I never went after my ex for more money, never asked to see his W-2's to get a hike in child support when his salary increased. I figured....whatever. It was fine. Let it go--it all works out in the end.

So I get a letter from his attorney stating that he is looking at severe financial hardship this year. Well, the economy is suffering -- ok, I get it. He's looking at a 25% cut in salary and a reduction of hours from 40 to 35 a week. I'm reading along and I get to the last point. Something about me paying his attorney and court costs.

Like that's gonna happen.

Then I get a sob-story email about how he can't pay for summer camp for Erin at the YMCA. It's too "cost prohibitive". He's not paying for her horseback riding lessons either. Never mind that it's a healthy outlet for someone with ADHD and anxiety.

Then I see his paystub from last year showing he made $15,000 more than what his monthly child support was based on. So in other words, he paid for an attorney to get relief from a child support payment that was based on a salary that was $15,000 less than what he made. Who's missing something here?

When I showed my attorney, he laughed himself out of his chair. He figures that with owing me back support from last year and adjusting his current salary with a 25% decrease, he will end up owing me almost MORE than he paid before he asked for "relief".

As Anne says, "What a cluck."

Oh, and don't worry. I won't have to pay his attorney or court costs. He just may end up paying mine.

Monday, November 12, 2007

Abuse 101

For those of you wishing to learn the finer nuances of abuse, whether to hone your craft or be aware of the bag of tricks an abuser uses, allow me to introduce you to one that is a favorite of my ex. It was the tool he used many a time to inform me of the continuous error of my ways. Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you: The Driveway Ambush.

Here are the steps you need to follow in order to create this work of art. You, as the justified wronged one, first must get good and angry about something. Anything. It can do with the ex or the kids or child support or your job or how your football team lost or how your girlfriend doesn't dress right or how your mother beat you as a child. Whatever. Get yourself primed and whipped up. Decide that the only relief you will get revolves around addressing the one that REALLY causes all your pain: your EX! You must, simply must, drive to the house you once shared and give that woman a piece of your obviously superior mind. Set her straight. You know it will help ease your gnawing pain....and what else is your ex good for? So jump in your car and begin your journey. Start swearing. A lot. Pound on the steering wheel until it hurts. Give other motorists as well as those damn pedestrians the finger. And really mean it. Honk and honk and honk at people in your lane or in any lane. Take Road Rage to new heights. Dare a squirrel to cross your path and survive. Continue to your old house and wait for your ex-wife to come home. Must be timed perfectly so you arrive about 10 minutes BEFORE she gets home from work. You can get even angrier that you had to wait on someone who should have KNOWN that you were gonna show up.

Car placement is very, very important in the “Driveway Ambush.” It has to be positioned just so to be effective -- about 5 feet from the front door, with the front fender just about even with the nearside door frame. Personal body location is also important here. You must be stationed between the car and the front door, so that the ex-wife would have to pole-vault over the evergreen in order to avoid you and get into the house.

Then, and here’s the pinnacle: Stand there and wait. Folding of the arms is okay, but leaning on the car or standing on one foot or the other is not allowed. Straight and tall is the order of the day. Hands on the hips is only used to punctuate, and must be accompanied by a 20-25 degree pitch forward from the waist, usually reserved for the full strike intimidation phase.

The problem is, like Pavlov’s dogs, they eventually learn. If they see your car in the driveway, the little chickens just keep on driving. And driving. And driving. So don't overuse this handy weapon in the quest for ultimate control because it can lose it's efficacy once the victim gets smart or hires a bodyguard. And for heaven's sake, you certainly don't want any violence.

Sunday, October 21, 2007

The Reason I Am the Way I Am

I usually don't point fingers, but I'm gonna.

I find it extremely tiresome to listen to someone moan and groan and bitch and wail about their divorce in 1990. I worked with a woman who was married for a short time, divorced for ages with no kids and she STILL talks about the moron. I wanted to Cher scream, "SNAP OUT OF IT!" at her. She didn't have to deal with him at all. My ex is the bane of my existence. No matter what kind of shithead your ex is, for your children's sakes, you must hold it together.

I was divorced in 2001, which is painfully at the edge of needing to shut the hell up about it already. Except I have one excuse: my ex still can't leave me alone. He controlled and manipulated and bullied me for 15 years and he just can't stop. I am his Lay Potato Chip.

I would like share excerpts of his emails. I've heard that one could sue me for slander for posting these gems, but who in the hell in their right mind would own up to writing them?? I feel I'm safe.

"(blah, blah, blah....) I told you, told you that this is what happens when you override my authority and my right to say no. I TOLD YOU. You allow them (the kids)the anonymity of hiding behind email where they can say anything they want with no repercussions. Then you sit back in your cozy bubble and insist everything is fine. How can you be so ignorant? (blah, blah, blah) You allowed this to happen by going against me. Now you have created a Monster. (blah, blah, blah) What the Hell!"

I know you want more. It's like watching a show you wish would never end --

"blah, blah, blah...) I wonder who's best interest is really served here. I will not agree to any further meetings with your (he means the kids') doctors. As long as You are in the picture I will never get a fair shake in dealings with my Children. (blah, blah, blah...) If this is what helps you sleep at night, how sad."

In the immortal words of John Lennon: "I could listen to him for hours." So I'll give you the piece de resistence:

"You are Pitiful. (blah, blah, blah...) Why don't you focus on your own relationships? Advancing age will treat you much better if you do."

Now I know these are taken out of context -- and he has a capitalization problem, but you get the drift. My lawyer contends he's more of a nuisance than a bona fide whack job, but I'm tired of getting slagged through the mud. And so are my kids. He sends crap like this even to Erin, who is only 11.

And I know what you are thinking: if I'm such a bad mother, why hasn't he done anything about me? Why isn't he suing me for custody? Why isn't he taking the kids to counselors and social workers to help them instead of me taking them? Because he's a self-centered, egotistical bully, that's why.

But haven't we crossed the "what is acceptable and what isn't acceptable" line yet? I mean do ex-husbands have to come and physically beat you before anyone thinks a line has been crossed? I don't know. Maybe it's just me. Maybe I don't get it. Maybe I'm supposed to take it and the kids are supposed to deal with him and when they are 18 they can do what they want. Sean hit 17 and was done. My poor Erin has at least 6 more years....and that father/daughter relationship is so fraught with angst anyway.

All I have to say is -- choose wisely when you marry and have children. And if you haven't chosen wisely, get the hell out. But be prepared. Abusers have a very hard time letting go.