It's a good thing I'm not passive aggressive or even what is commonly known as a 'bitch" or else I might do something as tasteless as posing with a copy of my signed divorce papers all hot-like:
and then make some tasteless joke like:
See these bars? I don't HAVE to be behind them!
That's the difference between me and STBX.
But I would never do something like that because I am not a be-yotch!
Yes, today was the "great signing". There are still a couple typos to fix on the main body of the document but they are just that, typos. Nothing earth shattering. Things should hopefully be done by Halloween.
So, where does this lead me? What does this mean?
Needless to say, it has been one weird day. I have heard it many times, women get to this point and they feel an alternate elation with a soul crushing sadness.
The thing is, I haven't dwelt in the sadness since I first learned of the initial infidelity. I don't do sadness well. I'm really great at anger. I do righteous indignation to a "t". I can do murderous rage and overwhelmed angst. I can even do a little wilting "I can't take anymore" schlump.
I just have a sincere time with sadness because it feels so self indulgent. I can't stand pity parties and every time I find myself "going there" I have to do a complete analysis and make sure that I am not slipping into a dangerous depression. It always looms as a frightening possibility. My brother committed suicide in his early twenties and it always lurks as a ghost in the shadows.
I have spent more than one night in the last nine months chanting away the dark hours, waiting to go to work. Not because I needed to work, not because I needed the money, but because I needed to not put a gun to my head and hey, putting a gun to your head at work and pulling the trigger is rather tasteless, especially if you have a boss who is a stickler for stains on the carpet.
"Hey boss, think those coffee stains are a bitch?? Watch this!"
Yeah, leave the gun at home...
And it's a weird place to be, not knowing how to grieve or even what you are grieving. I can't grieve a rotten marriage. I can't grieve for 17 years of feeling like shit and wondering what is marital rape and what is passive aggressive bullshit and feeling like I had no where to turn and leaving my house to go to the grocery store and sitting in the parking lot when I was done and thinking that I never wanted to go back and wondering just how far a tank of gas would take me.
I can't grieve for the fact that his sister had the audacity to tell me how much he loved his kids and that my "perception" of him was not what she knew.
I can't grieve for other people's ignorance and stupidity.
I can't grieve for a life I never had.
But yet it comes. The tears that threaten to fall. The sadness that threatens to consume.
I grieve for the hope that I once had.
I grieve for the baby girl that I held in my arms.
I grieve for the children who never knew what it was to have a good father.
I grieve for the miracle of their strength and intelligence and their father's complete and utter lack of its recognition.
I grieve that my daughter knows the pain and abandonment of a childhood gone horribly wrong.
I grieve that I didn't leave earlier.
I grieve that I ever thought I deserved to be treated like shit.
I grieve that there are women in this world that would take him in an instant and think themselves most unworthy.
I grieve that nearly 18 years ago, I thought I could make it work, even though I had my doubts.
I grieve that I didn't trust myself.
As I sat in my lawyers office today, I said I would have liked to be a fly on the wall when he decided not to pursue his objections to the name change anymore. I wanted to know why. I said that he was totally fine with showing up in court and humiliating us but when the chance came that he would be humiliated, he decided not to go there.
My lawyer then told me that in a case like this, he would have probably had to pay extra to get himself transported to court. This was not a necessary court appearance, this was him, being an ass.
"It has nothing to do with any kind of epiphany and everything to do with the fact that he doesn't have anymore money to pay for it," she informed me.
I grieve for the fact that I still am looking for the slightest chance that he isn't the horrible asshole that I think he is.
My grief is manifold.