A run in with the ex tonight has me back at the keyboard…
Things he expects from me…
…I will try to control any and all situations.
…my words will always be arrows pointing at the blame that belongs to him alone.
…I will never take responsibility for my own shortcomings.
…it is my job to come to his rescue and help him with his issues, whatever they may be.
…I should be appreciative of all that he is and all that he does…and if I’m not, then I’m a bitch.
…I control the things which I can…and there are some where he is concerned. One is the house I live in and pay for (albeit with my salary, and the child support and alimony that he pays me, which btw, isn’t enough) along with all its upkeep, which he signed on the dotted line for (while screwing another woman) then walked out of two months later, so YES, I get to control when and how I sell it since I can’t afford it anymore. Hey, I agreed to him getting 50% of the proceeds from the sale. I’m being generous.
…I tell the truth. My honesty is often blunt. But the words are never untrue. If that means blame, and it’s his, then, YES, my words will always be blaming him when he does things that hurt the kids or myself. Truth hurts sometimes. I truly WISH I didn’t have to say “you chose to live your life with another woman and be a father to her two kids, who you see more than your own kids, and that HURTS YOUR CHILDREN IMMEASURABLY”. I’m sorry, is that blame?
…I have always fessed up to being bluntly honest. To not having appropriate filters when necessary sometimes. To not mincing my words more carefully. To not enjoying feeling like I am unimportant and coming third in line behind work and the kids. To not being very fun to be around because I am worn out from all the responsibilities that were heaped upon me. But I guess that just goes with the “controlling all situations”…I must have WANTED it to be that way. Silly me.
…this week it was borrowing my truck and my cordless drill and filling in for him dropping off a child at their event on ‘his’ night when he scheduled something else and couldn’t do it and letting him know what time the kids’ events were and dropping off something he left in said truck and helping him understand how the kids are feeling and, and, and, wow…it really has been a taxing week. Did I mention that I almost never ask him for anything. Because he has never been reliable. And on the rare occassion that I have (2 years ago a forgotten car seat – he had me buy a new one so he wouldn’t be inconvenienced, 1 year ago a swimsuit left – I had to replace it because it was my fault and if she needed one I needed to figure it out, a couple weeks ago a backpack forgotten in his car, returned the next morning – forget the undone homework in it, he was an hour away at “her” place, um, I thought you moved back here so you could be closer to the kids to repair things?, and 8 years ago when I asked him to just try to show me he loved me by putting me first before everything else on occassion – yeah, we know how that worked…) Uh oh, more of those arrows directed at him again…
…hey, he filled the tank with gas. That makes up for asking. I should be falling over myself thanking him. Hey, he left the house and all the contents to me when he walked out…he’s a stand up guy now! Right? (many things were offered to him which he refused – his first place was a furnished condo a friend was letting him rent, so he didn’t need it then, it was more of an inconvenience to find a place to put any of it, then of course when he moved in with the paramour SHE had all the furniture…now he’s frantically trying to fill his own appartment so he can “atone for his wrongs, in an effort to make things better with the kids” – huh? his words, not mine) Hey, he picked up from late night events (8:15) on his scheduled night on occasion after he had dropped the other two off at 7:30. Um, if it’s YOUR night, shouldn’t it be expected that you do all the required activities for the kids? Oh, whoops, there goes that rescue thing I’m supposed to do again…don’t I know he just can’t do it…yeah, I know. You usually can’t. Which is why I don’t count on you. But that doesn’t mean I have to fall all over myself to THANK you when the rare occasion comes when you aren’t inconvenienced by the added responsibility.
But then again, I AM a bitch after all.
I should wear my badge with pride.