Musings and Closure
...so, poor Alex had to deal with a grumpy and sullen woman after the divorce hearing. I kept seeing Rob's sad face in my mind when the judge asked him if he thought the marriage could be saved. I went over and over in my mind how Rob still insists that he loves me and that he felt I just "gave up" when a REAL married couple would have stuck through it and gone onwards. After all, don't all married couples go through rough spots?
Yes, all married couples go through rough spots. However, if I look back upon my mom and dad, every rough spot they faced--my dad's stroke that paralyzed his left side being the worst of it--was due to outside forces and NOT one of them turning on the other and blaming him or her for all of life's travesties. It used to be, long ago, when Rob faced adversity and setbacks, he blamed himself or just got angry at life. Somewhere the second after Jared was conceived, it all became MY fault. I could cope with all manner of problems, but I couldn't cope with them AND be screamed at constantly. How could he claim he loved me all while yelling at me that I was a "fucking cunt whore bitch" and treating me like a pile of doggy doo? How does one love somebody that he treats as if he hates? I have so many memories...some bad, some good. The good ones: I remember dancing in the rain with him long ago, getting my feet muddy and laughing until the muscles on my mouth hurt. I remember creating worlds and gaming on them late into the night. I remember after he had to pull an all-nighter in law school...he became just nuttier than usual and had me in stitches with his "killer squirrel" impression (don't ask). We used to be able to laugh at everything the world threw at us. Yeah, I knew all along--well before Jared was conceived--that I pulled most of the weight in the relationship, but he made me laugh and feel loved, so I was ok with that. He dropped out of Duke twice and I dragged him back in both times. He started going crazed after he graduated, and I got up and left and moved back to Tampa. It was one of the harder things I ever did--leaving a man I loved to move far away for the betterment of both of us--but the end result is that a few months after I left, he got his act together and re-evaluated his life. Then I started dragging him through law school...we got married...I supported him and dragged him the rest of the way through...and I took care of all his life so he could do the minimum and be happy. When he was happy, that was good enough to make me happy. I felt useful. I felt needed. I felt loved. Without me, he would have accomplished nothing. I had inspired him to greatness!
When I became pregnant with Ariana, I had my first taste of Rob flipping out and directing it at ME. It used to be that he directed it only at himself; hence, this way of handling life is why he shot his own hand when he was at Duke. For a couple of months when I was pregnant for the first time, he freaked out and I felt lost...alone...afraid. Then he pulled himself back together marvelously. He went to the childbirth classes and the ultrasounds and participated in a baby shower. When I had to have an emergency c section with Ariana, he made sure in the hospital that he took care of our baby entirely so that she never had to go to the nursery. Between Rob and then my mom after we got home, my daughter was three weeks old before I ever changed a diaper! Ariana was a difficult baby. She had colic. She cried and cried and cried every waking hour. If a man had a right to flip out, it would have been THEN. But...Rob didn't. You just have to trust me on this fact. Rob did all he could to make life easier for his girls back then. I remember being exhausted when he came home from work one day and he walked Ari back and forth for OVER AN HOUR NONSTOP (if he put her in a stroller, put her down, or otherwise let go of her and stopped moving, the crying started back up again) so that I could nap. He'd drive us both around in the car for hours, Ari and I snoring in unison, so that we both could finally have precious sleep. It was rough on both of us and I was always amazed how a man who came from such a broken background could end up so marvelous with his daughter. There was no doubt in my mind that we could have a second child and be more enriched for it. He bonded hard with Ariana and kept telling me how much happier he was with her in our lives...
But then it all changed when I got pregnant with Jared. He knew from the moment of conception that a) Jared was in there and b) he was a boy. All of Rob's problems stem from his very abusive father, and I really think that reliving that father-son relationship is what flipped him out. My therapist told me that men and women who do not resolve personal childhood issues can hold it in only so long, and then sometime in their mid 30's they will collapse somehow. Rob was 34 when I became pregnant with Jared...and lo, he collapsed.
He hit me...just once. Once was enough. I remember my four week old son in my arms and my head bowing down over him, hands cradling him more tightly in reflex, as Rob's hand smacked across my head, whipping it to one side. I remember never being sure after that point--no matter how much he reassured me it would never happen again--that an intense argument wouldn't lead again to the same action of anger. I remember him saying, "But Kira, you KNOW I'd never do it again!" and my reply of, "But Rob, I KNEW you'd never do it to BEGIN WITH!"
I remember him making pig noises at me because I had worked on a two pound bag of m&m's over a two week period, calling me fat...when I weighed 115 lbs at 5'2" and had given birth to Jared only four months earlier.
I remember him telling me when I was pregnant how fat I was, and how I shouldn't touch him because I was just too hefty. I am a big snuggler, and my need to touch was taken away...my poor daughter was smothered with hugs and kisses because I couldn't get anybody else to touch me. I remember him telling me when I started to lose weight after Jared was born that "You're getting beautiful again..." or the other classic, when I told him about my six week appointment/checkup after giving birth, mentioning to him that the doctor could give the go ahead for sex at that point..."Well, I can't wait until you get skinny again so we can start having sex!"
....
I may have done 90% of the things around the house before Jared was conceived, but at least he appreciated me for doing them. I was told that I was beautiful no matter what I wore, and that he loved me. I wasn't hit or belittled or screamed at for any reason. We used to have one big blowout fight every two years that just sort of got it all out of our system. After Jared was conceived, it never was the same.
I remember having to fetch his drunk ass from the neighbor's house one night because he had court the next day and I didn't want him to pass out drunk and miss court. I think the term there is "enabler." I should have just let him face the concequences and stop holding his hand, but early on in the relationship I had established that my role was to caretake for him. I wasn't his wife; I was his mother. I remember how drunk he was and how he tried to force me to drink or smoke pot with the neighbor, despite being pregnant. When I told him that I would never endanger my baby that way, he called me a bitch. I remember the look of horror on my neighbor's face when he said, Rob's just drunk...he doesn't mean it...ignore him.
I remember thinking about the neighbor's look of horror on his face for days afterwards. It told me something that I hadn't figured out myself: Rob's way of behaving towards me was unacceptable. I had to pin him down when we returned to the house so that he wouldn't do some crazy stuff, and that was not the only time in my life I had to pin his drunk ass down so he didn't do something idiotic. Imagine this, folks: little 5'2" pregnant me, sitting on a 6' 190 lb man and pinning him down. It's amazing what a good ol' adrenaline rush can do for you.
It became about tension in the neck...about knowing whatever happened it would end up being my fault...about no trust, no respect, no security...about being unloved...unwanted...insecure...depressed...
All that bad stuff doesn't negate the good times I remember. It just makes me know I made the right decision. But long ago, I took on the caretaker role for Rob, so right now what I'm feeling is NOT the pangs of a woman who should be married still, but the pangs of a mother who deserted a child. This child, however, is a legal adult and needs to grow up. This child will never BE an adult if this mom doesn't toss him out of the house. It's tough love, right?
I really feel for Alex and what he has to deal with as far as my emotional baggage. All I can tell him for sure is this fact: I love him endlessly and will NEVER EVER take him for granted. It's been a year and a half since we started dating exclusively (longer since we started dating), and I can't stop staring at him sometimes as if he's a figment of my imagination and he'll go away. I met Rob when I was SIXTEEN and started dating him that year. Sure, we broke up for a year and I dated a lot of other folks, but then I got back with him. Rob is the bulk of my experience with men, and the reason why I have no expectations as far as men go. Yet there is Alex...and he is undoubtedly the best man I know who is not related to me...and I'm scared he'll disappear. Poof. I'll wake up and he's gone. Ug.
My therapist told me a couple of years ago that when the divorce went through, I needed to have closure by writing a letter to Rob that he'd never get, wherein I described to him both the good and bad memories I had of our relationship, how I don't regret the relationship because I had good things come out of it too (Ariana and Jared!), but that it was time to move on to situations that were better for me...and that this end was the best choice I could make. So there we go. You've all read it. I have good memories and bad memories of all that has passed with Rob. I have learned a lot. I have moved on to better situations.
And....goodbye.
Yes, all married couples go through rough spots. However, if I look back upon my mom and dad, every rough spot they faced--my dad's stroke that paralyzed his left side being the worst of it--was due to outside forces and NOT one of them turning on the other and blaming him or her for all of life's travesties. It used to be, long ago, when Rob faced adversity and setbacks, he blamed himself or just got angry at life. Somewhere the second after Jared was conceived, it all became MY fault. I could cope with all manner of problems, but I couldn't cope with them AND be screamed at constantly. How could he claim he loved me all while yelling at me that I was a "fucking cunt whore bitch" and treating me like a pile of doggy doo? How does one love somebody that he treats as if he hates? I have so many memories...some bad, some good. The good ones: I remember dancing in the rain with him long ago, getting my feet muddy and laughing until the muscles on my mouth hurt. I remember creating worlds and gaming on them late into the night. I remember after he had to pull an all-nighter in law school...he became just nuttier than usual and had me in stitches with his "killer squirrel" impression (don't ask). We used to be able to laugh at everything the world threw at us. Yeah, I knew all along--well before Jared was conceived--that I pulled most of the weight in the relationship, but he made me laugh and feel loved, so I was ok with that. He dropped out of Duke twice and I dragged him back in both times. He started going crazed after he graduated, and I got up and left and moved back to Tampa. It was one of the harder things I ever did--leaving a man I loved to move far away for the betterment of both of us--but the end result is that a few months after I left, he got his act together and re-evaluated his life. Then I started dragging him through law school...we got married...I supported him and dragged him the rest of the way through...and I took care of all his life so he could do the minimum and be happy. When he was happy, that was good enough to make me happy. I felt useful. I felt needed. I felt loved. Without me, he would have accomplished nothing. I had inspired him to greatness!
When I became pregnant with Ariana, I had my first taste of Rob flipping out and directing it at ME. It used to be that he directed it only at himself; hence, this way of handling life is why he shot his own hand when he was at Duke. For a couple of months when I was pregnant for the first time, he freaked out and I felt lost...alone...afraid. Then he pulled himself back together marvelously. He went to the childbirth classes and the ultrasounds and participated in a baby shower. When I had to have an emergency c section with Ariana, he made sure in the hospital that he took care of our baby entirely so that she never had to go to the nursery. Between Rob and then my mom after we got home, my daughter was three weeks old before I ever changed a diaper! Ariana was a difficult baby. She had colic. She cried and cried and cried every waking hour. If a man had a right to flip out, it would have been THEN. But...Rob didn't. You just have to trust me on this fact. Rob did all he could to make life easier for his girls back then. I remember being exhausted when he came home from work one day and he walked Ari back and forth for OVER AN HOUR NONSTOP (if he put her in a stroller, put her down, or otherwise let go of her and stopped moving, the crying started back up again) so that I could nap. He'd drive us both around in the car for hours, Ari and I snoring in unison, so that we both could finally have precious sleep. It was rough on both of us and I was always amazed how a man who came from such a broken background could end up so marvelous with his daughter. There was no doubt in my mind that we could have a second child and be more enriched for it. He bonded hard with Ariana and kept telling me how much happier he was with her in our lives...
But then it all changed when I got pregnant with Jared. He knew from the moment of conception that a) Jared was in there and b) he was a boy. All of Rob's problems stem from his very abusive father, and I really think that reliving that father-son relationship is what flipped him out. My therapist told me that men and women who do not resolve personal childhood issues can hold it in only so long, and then sometime in their mid 30's they will collapse somehow. Rob was 34 when I became pregnant with Jared...and lo, he collapsed.
He hit me...just once. Once was enough. I remember my four week old son in my arms and my head bowing down over him, hands cradling him more tightly in reflex, as Rob's hand smacked across my head, whipping it to one side. I remember never being sure after that point--no matter how much he reassured me it would never happen again--that an intense argument wouldn't lead again to the same action of anger. I remember him saying, "But Kira, you KNOW I'd never do it again!" and my reply of, "But Rob, I KNEW you'd never do it to BEGIN WITH!"
I remember him making pig noises at me because I had worked on a two pound bag of m&m's over a two week period, calling me fat...when I weighed 115 lbs at 5'2" and had given birth to Jared only four months earlier.
I remember him telling me when I was pregnant how fat I was, and how I shouldn't touch him because I was just too hefty. I am a big snuggler, and my need to touch was taken away...my poor daughter was smothered with hugs and kisses because I couldn't get anybody else to touch me. I remember him telling me when I started to lose weight after Jared was born that "You're getting beautiful again..." or the other classic, when I told him about my six week appointment/checkup after giving birth, mentioning to him that the doctor could give the go ahead for sex at that point..."Well, I can't wait until you get skinny again so we can start having sex!"
....
I may have done 90% of the things around the house before Jared was conceived, but at least he appreciated me for doing them. I was told that I was beautiful no matter what I wore, and that he loved me. I wasn't hit or belittled or screamed at for any reason. We used to have one big blowout fight every two years that just sort of got it all out of our system. After Jared was conceived, it never was the same.
I remember having to fetch his drunk ass from the neighbor's house one night because he had court the next day and I didn't want him to pass out drunk and miss court. I think the term there is "enabler." I should have just let him face the concequences and stop holding his hand, but early on in the relationship I had established that my role was to caretake for him. I wasn't his wife; I was his mother. I remember how drunk he was and how he tried to force me to drink or smoke pot with the neighbor, despite being pregnant. When I told him that I would never endanger my baby that way, he called me a bitch. I remember the look of horror on my neighbor's face when he said, Rob's just drunk...he doesn't mean it...ignore him.
I remember thinking about the neighbor's look of horror on his face for days afterwards. It told me something that I hadn't figured out myself: Rob's way of behaving towards me was unacceptable. I had to pin him down when we returned to the house so that he wouldn't do some crazy stuff, and that was not the only time in my life I had to pin his drunk ass down so he didn't do something idiotic. Imagine this, folks: little 5'2" pregnant me, sitting on a 6' 190 lb man and pinning him down. It's amazing what a good ol' adrenaline rush can do for you.
It became about tension in the neck...about knowing whatever happened it would end up being my fault...about no trust, no respect, no security...about being unloved...unwanted...insecure...depressed...
All that bad stuff doesn't negate the good times I remember. It just makes me know I made the right decision. But long ago, I took on the caretaker role for Rob, so right now what I'm feeling is NOT the pangs of a woman who should be married still, but the pangs of a mother who deserted a child. This child, however, is a legal adult and needs to grow up. This child will never BE an adult if this mom doesn't toss him out of the house. It's tough love, right?
I really feel for Alex and what he has to deal with as far as my emotional baggage. All I can tell him for sure is this fact: I love him endlessly and will NEVER EVER take him for granted. It's been a year and a half since we started dating exclusively (longer since we started dating), and I can't stop staring at him sometimes as if he's a figment of my imagination and he'll go away. I met Rob when I was SIXTEEN and started dating him that year. Sure, we broke up for a year and I dated a lot of other folks, but then I got back with him. Rob is the bulk of my experience with men, and the reason why I have no expectations as far as men go. Yet there is Alex...and he is undoubtedly the best man I know who is not related to me...and I'm scared he'll disappear. Poof. I'll wake up and he's gone. Ug.
My therapist told me a couple of years ago that when the divorce went through, I needed to have closure by writing a letter to Rob that he'd never get, wherein I described to him both the good and bad memories I had of our relationship, how I don't regret the relationship because I had good things come out of it too (Ariana and Jared!), but that it was time to move on to situations that were better for me...and that this end was the best choice I could make. So there we go. You've all read it. I have good memories and bad memories of all that has passed with Rob. I have learned a lot. I have moved on to better situations.
And....goodbye.
posted by Kira | 10:04 AM
3 Comments:
You definitely did the right thing! It's a new beginning, and from the sounds of the blog above this one - it's going to be a great one!
This post so hit home with me. My ex started verbal abuse 2 years into our relationship. I stayed a full year after it started. I kept hoping things would go back to "normal" Everything was my fault of course. I have some very good memories but they are so over shaddowed by the memories of the man who called me a bitch, accused me of being with other men and even had a problem with me seeing my own grown sons.
I was wondering what happened with your marriage. You did the right thing. That just sounds awful!
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