Other People's Children

OK, so I've just watched this season's Torchwood five night special "Children of Earth".

Twice.

I'm thinking that someone who is in my present state of mind probably shouldn't watch this.

Not to mention, twice.

Not to give out spoilers because you HAVE to see it, but the whole thing revolved around sacrificing children. Mostly, other people's children.

Unfortunately, I sat through it and thought about STBX's sister and her reaction to her brother's "indiscretions".

How she tried to tell me "At least this or that didn't happen..." when I talked to her.

I can only imagine what her reaction to that statement would have been had he molested her son. I can only imagine what her reaction would have been had she read the police statement that I read. Had she lived in my skin as I was forced to bear witness to what his sick and perverted self did.

But she just had to tell me that he REALLY DID love his kids. (Yeah, unfortunately, that kind of love is illegal in all 50 states.)

He USED his kids. Love has never entered into his personality.

That was the other part of Children of Earth that screwed me up. Using kids. Not sexually like STBX, but using kids for ones own selfish pleasure and stating "They don't feel anything. They aren't in any pain."

That's what pedophiles say. That's what co-dependant supporters of pedophiles say. They minimize it. They can't walk in someone else's shoes. They're willing to look the other way as long as it happens to someone else's children.

I wonder if there will ever be a day when I don't live this. When my daughter doesn't live this.

It makes me think of a quote from the short story "The Ghost Writer" by Phillip Roth.

"I felt flayed. I felt as though the skin had been peeled away from half my body. Half my face had been peeled away, and everybody would stare in horror for the rest of my life. Or they would stare at the other half, at the half still intact; I could see them smiling, pretending that the flayed half wasn't there and talking to the half that was. And I could hear myself screaming at them, I could see myself thrusting my hideous side right up in their unmarred faces to make them properly horrified. 'I was pretty! I was whole! I was a sunny, lively little girl! Look, look at what they did to me!' But whatever side they looked at, I would always be screaming 'Look at the other! Why don't you look at the other!'...However they look at me, however they talk to me, however they try to comfort me, I will always be this half flayed thing. I will never be young, I will never be kind or at peace or in love, and I will hate them all my life.'"

Yeah. Other people's children are fair game. And we wouldn't want to make a big deal out this or anything...after all, he's really a good guy at heart.

Looking for a Cheerleader

Today is the one month anniversary of my life's new path.

Sorry America, but I'm absconding with Barack today. Just today. You can have him back tomorrow.

Watching all the "pre-game" coverage on the news last night, I just wanted to put all his wonderful words, positive and strong and hopeful, in my pocket. Along with him.

You never know when you might need an instant cheering section.

What the hell! Michelle can come to!

I have never in my life looked at a first couple and thought "I would LOVE to have a beer with them!" But I do now.

So my soon-to-be-ex-husband is now deciding not to talk to the police. He is exercising his right to remain silent. Of course, this sent me off on another piss fit until I realized that "of course he doesn't want to talk!" He doesn't want to reveal anything that his victim might have forgotten! What a guy! So brave, noble and true!

But my favorite police woman tells me that it doesn't matter. The report will be on the county prosecutor's desk today.

Next step is sentencing, providing he keeps his word that he won't take it to trial. I'm hoping that sentencing will happen this week.

And then there is the victim impact statement. I want to deliver one. I want to stand up in front of my soon-to-be-ex husband and let him know exactly what he has done.

And for that? I think I'm gonna need my Pocket Obama.

Vengence Is Mine, Sayeth The Law

I believe some things were being sorted out yesterday by police and prosecutors and lawyers (oh my!). I got to talk to my favorite police woman and then I got a call from the county prosecuting attorney. Everyone in this rotten scenario has given their report to the police. Everyone, that is, except the perpetrator. He is currently hiding behind his lawyer. When the police called him to talk, he told them "my lawyer will be in touch". I learned this yesterday and I was furious. It's a completely legal thing that he has the right to say "Nah...I'm not going to talk to you right now...have your people call my people and we'll do lunch..."

It's funny how time is such a relative thing in this situation. From where I'm standing, the fact that my soon-to-be-ex husband has been living free and clear since admitting to committing a horrible sex crime has been ripping my guts out on a daily basis. Once you admit to a crime, you should be locked up, right? You shouldn't be able to go to work and sleep in a warm bed at night, and feel the crisp winter wind on your face. You shouldn't be allowed the possibility of running into your victim at the grocery store.

But apparently from where the police and the victim's advocates that I've been working with are standing, this case is proceeding rather speedily. I guess my call from the prosecuting attorney yesterday was a little unusual at this stage in the game. Normally, all the shit comes out and then the victim is presented with a plea bargain. Basically, the victim is asked "Is this sentence good enough? Will you allow us to knock five years off? Can we? Can we? What do you think???"

That was the option I was presented with yesterday. His lawyer needed to know what the possible sentencing was going to be and so they needed to know how I felt.

The prosecuting attorney told me that this could bring about serious prison time. Did I realize this? Did I want to think about it for awhile before calling him back with my decision?

Ahhhhhh, yeah...I've actually been thinking about it 24-7 since all this shit came out. There is a quote that I particularly like which goes "When one is to be hanged in a fortnight, it concentrates the mind remarkably."

In other words, hubby needed to know if I would "forgive" him enough to cut him some slack.

I told the prosecuting attorney that no, I am not here to plea bargain and yes, I realize that this could mean prison time. Prison time is exactly what he deserves.

I failed to add what was rolling around in the back of my mind. "And I hope he gets a 400 pound cell mate named Bubba. And I hope Bubba likes to dance."

I then proceeded to hang up the phone and curl in the fetal position for the rest of the night.

No Violence Was Referred To In The Writing Of This Post

Today will be a much more positive post. Just want to throw that out there for anyone eyeing the computer screen while reaching behind them for something, anything, that can be used in self defense. No, drop the cat, really. Hurling a cat as a weapon has been been banned by the Geneva Convention (which means we've been hurling cats for years now, you just didn't know about it.)

As I said, it's a roller coaster ride. I'm a quarter of the way through and I just realized I needed to fasten my seatbelt.

As I write this, it's 4:30 a.m, the coffee is hot and delicious, and my dogs are at my feet. As a back sliding Buddhist, I had to remind myself of three things yesterday. 1. Breathe. 2. Live in the present. 3. Karma is all the revenge one needs.

If all of this crap had happened even a few short years ago, I would not have had the intelligence to reach out to people and admit that I need help. I used to think that doing everything on my own and holding up the world on my back was a sign of strength and independance. Thankfully I now know that it is a sign of raving stupidity. There are things in this world that are too big to fit inside one skull, too heavy to bear on one back. For all the garbage that has gone on since December 19th, I stand back in amazement at the wonderful circle of friends I have. When I speak of karma, this is what I think of.

This week is filled with more appointments, legal paperwork, and hopefully successful policework. Also, I decided I needed a little inspirational desk art at work...I've always held a reverence for Kuan Yin but at a time when I feel the importance of protecting my kids so acutely, I think I need her by my side.

Behold! I am your Savior!

Ever had one of those days?

You know, the ones that find you on the phone with the police at 7:00 am and by 3:30 pm you have an order of protection for your family and by 7:00 pm you find yourself pawning your wedding bands to get their horrible bad juju out of your life?

You know, a quiet, uneventful day...

Yeah, that was yesterday.

Today consists of us at home, making carmel kicks, monkey bread, and watching March of the Penguins. Morgan Freeman could make a root canal sound appealing.

Many years ago, I basically cut off contact with my biological family because they were a bunch of alcoholics, wife beaters, child abusers, and drug addicts. I grew up in the custody of my aunt and so was a little removed from the Jerry Springer antics but I certainly knew OF them. My aunt was really well known for trying to "save" people, myself included. There was always someone living at her home who had washed up on the beach somewhere, a near fatality of the insanity that was life in our family.

I always vowed to rise above it. I hated telling people my last name when I was a kid or young adult because if that person had any connection to the police or social services, they would arch up an eyebrow as if to say "OOOOHHHH! I've heard of YOUR family!" I would never hang around the losers that pervaded my childhood. I would do better.

Well, hopefully in a very short time, my soon to be ex will be in jail. When I spoke to his sister regarding what a horrible person he was, she told me something that has turned my guts inside out ever since.

I knew he was a troubled kid but I didn't know he had been turned over to foster care as a teen because he was out of control. I also didn't know that his biological family was glad when he married me because they thought I could "save" him.

Wow.

It makes me think back to when my brother married a woman and at a family function, I approached her and said "I have one word for you in regards to this family...run."

Looking back at their marriage, it was probably the best advice she never heeded.

No one ever told me I was signing up to be someone's savior seventeen years ago. As they say, hindsight is 20/20.