Next Up? Daddy Dearest

Continuing on yesterday's thread, the other half of the equation in all of our lives is fathers.

Not having grown up around my father and having the only man my aunt (who raised me) was involved with be a molester, my understanding of what a healthy relationship with a man is hasn't come to light until my life blew up in December.

I've known for years that my marriage wasn't good. Having wanted to leave when the kids were little and being sneered at, something inside me curled up and hibernated for fourteen years.

I stayed. For that choice, I am guilty.

For the consequences of stbx's fucked up childhood, I am not.

Before I knew that stbx was a pedophile, I knew he was a rotten father. I told myself that he would try to get partial custody of the kids if I left. I believe this to be true to this day. He would have done it out of spite. By staying, I could at least be there to protect my kids against his sarcasm, his indifference, his obvious lack of interest in them. Had I known what kind of interest he had in in at least one of them...yeah...there we go with that 20/20 hindsight thing again.

When the kids were little, he called them "screaming balls of flesh" (granted, there were those days and nights of colic when this was an apt description). He told people that he would be more interested in them when they got older. He said it would be great if you could just give a kid a ball and send them to a corner and have them bounce it for hours on end so they would leave you alone.

There were early attempts at school conferences and school functions. But somewhere after third or fourth grade, it all stopped. As I write this sentence, I realize, that involvement with the kids stopped when the abuse started.

That is also the time that he totally withdrew from us as a family.

Seven years.

That's how long the kids have had an absentee father who sat a mere two feet from them, involved in everything online and nothing in his real life.

There were times when I tried to invite him to school functions or to something we were doing but he was always busy or acted like we were the stupid ones for actually going outside the house to have a life. In the last couple years, when I would mention "asking dad to come with us", the kids would sigh and balk. It would either be a waste of time or else he would come with us and make us all miserable with his aura of gloom and sarcasm.

As I've stated before, having been abused, I cut him even less slack for becoming an abuser. He knew where I came from. At any time, he could have sat down and either talked about his past or simply said "I need help and I can't tell you why", but he didn't. He told his manhole that he "couldn't help himself". Well, he could have helped himself. He chose not to. It was easier to use his own child for his own selfish purposes than to pick up a phone and make a call to a professional.

That's what makes this whole scenario so insidious. He has played the victim his entire life. He seeks out women that want to nurture and "help" and once again, he only has to be the ten year old child, crying to his mommy.

That will be his defense when this all goes to court. His lawyer will try to turn the tables away from what he has done and turn him into the victim that he has acted like his entire life.

Since he surrounds himself currently with people that perpetuate that myth, I'm sure he's feeling quite secure in what a terrible lot his life has been and just how much he can sway a courtroom.

And how he had no control over the mess he has created.

A Funny Thing Happened While You Were Cyber-Fucking Your Girlfriend

I had another idea for a post today. I wanted to get all deep and explore whether or not a pedophile can ever really understand what love is. Due to the very nature of their self-centered victim mentality, whether they can actually comprehend that love means respect and give and take and mutual caring and understanding. I don't believe they can. If they have never known love as a child, they are certainly not going to learn it as an adult.

Which means that a victim of incest who is tearing herself apart because she is SUPPOSED to love her father and her father was SUPPOSED to protect her and care for her, but yet her father did horrible things to her and in no way exhibited that he loved her, is in fact tearing herself apart for an ideal which never existed in the first place. You don't treat someone you love like this. Consequently, you have never been loved by this person, you have only been used for their own selfish purposes.

BUT, all this is basically moot today. All this is being shoved to the back burner. Why, you might ask? Because not only did this perverted fucking asshole ruin our lives but we are currently living with the fact that, the two and a half times that he actually hauled his lard ass up from his chair to do something, he did it in such a half assed way that we are now paying the price.

What do you do when your sump pump is making funny noises? Why, you unplug it of course! And what do you do when your wife asks you what the "next step" is? You continue to play World of Warcraft, give a long exasperated sigh, and start bitching about having to "deal" with it. You, nonetheless, give the impression that you will indeed, do something.

But just like all the other projects in the house, you don't "deal" with it. You unplug the sump pump and let it float in the ever increasing well of water in which it is supposed to be pumping.

Gotta meet your level 7 healer online! Gotta call her on the phone so you can have pathetic loser phone sex! Gotta convince her that you're the victim and everyone else is SO MEAN TO YOU!

Gotta do everything for yourself and fuck the rest of your family.

And you're pissed off at me in the midst of this divorce???? Wanna see a flooded basement? Want to know what it feels like to have every single aspect of your life crumbling around your ears and all you can think about is that three hour cell phone conversation with your bitch in Wisconsin? Cuz, you know, that's where your REAL responsibility was!

And when the fucking pedo reads this along with his fucking girlfriend and her doormat husband and his co-dependant siblings and the rest of the god damn universe that is hell bent on making our lives suck as much as possible, might I just say this

FUCK YOU ALL!!!!!!!

And Now The Award For Father Of The Year

The autopsy of a relationship, especially a bad relationship, is not for the faint hearted.

I despised weekends because I would be home to witness the fact that my soon-to-be-ex husband would sit in front of the computer for ten hours and never speak a word to his family. My weekends were exhausting because I had to invent reasons to either stay away from home or else come home and risk mentioning something like, "Can you take the trash out?" and be met with the attitude that I had just requested his left testicle.

I learned a couple days ago that during one of the times that my son and I were out together and our first dog was a puppy, my soon-to-be-ex-husband was glued to the computer as usual and when the dog, who he was also ignoring, had an accident at his feet, he flew into a rage at my daughter who wasn't even in the same room. I remember her telling me that he had gotten really mad at her but I didn't realize that it involved him screaming at her that the dog having an accident was all her fault. If she has to take the dog outside and spend four hours to get him to go to the bathroom, then that was what she should have done.

She then proceeded to take the dog outside and decided that if she went back inside he would probably slap her so she sat down on the front lawn with the dog and waited for me to come back home. Within fifteen minutes, he screamed at her to come back in the house because she was taking to damn much time outside.

When she came back into the house, he continued to scream at her and when he wanted to get past her, he slammed her against the wall to get through. She ran up to her room and shut herself in and he left the house for a half an hour.

When he came back home, he went upstairs to her room and asked her, through her closed door, not to tell me what had happened. He then proceeded to tell her that if she kept her mouth shut he would buy her something.

Thankfully, she told him to fuck off.

And when I got home, he was sitting at the computer. Maybe he gave a grunting acknowledgement that I had entered the house, maybe he didn't. I don't remember.

It was just another day in the life.