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Sad times

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Today I’m writing from a deck chair in my back garden. The sun is bursting the sky. O is out with his friends and the baby is fast asleep. You would be forgiven for thinking that right about now life sounds good.

Sadly that is not the case. For the past two weeks my heart has been heavy. Sad. Broken. Yet strangely calm. 

I have put off writing this post for days now in fear that I wouldn’t find the words to say what I truly feel. Yet, I also cannot let this time past unnoticed. Unrecognised. So here it is. 

On Monday May 16th, whilst sat in London at a conference with work I received a message from my mother that shattered my life as I know it. My darling Nanna who has been sick in hospital since Christmas wasn’t expected to last the night. 

My gasp at seeing this news combined with my instantaneously welling eyes, alerted my boss that something was wrong. I showed the message to him and was immediately bundled out of the room and sent home. Once outside and away from the curious eyes of the other participants I broke into uncontrolled sobs. 

I had to see her. I had to say goodbye. To tell her “I love you”. 

The train ride home, looking back now was a bit of a blur. I just recall checking my phone a million times dreading another message saying she had gone. That I was too late. She would never know!! 

Thankfully that message never came. 

Nothing ever prepares one to say goodbye; no pain felt before, no matter how hard you think you’ve had it previously, no matter how old or experienced. It’s horrible. Truly, madly stomach turning horrible. 

She looked so tiny, so frail. Half the magnificent woman I knew her to be. Gaunt and still. Try as she might to talk to us her body just wouldn’t comply. And her words were silent. 

I mustered everything inside of me to fight back the tears from forming but they were rebellious in their escape. My efforts were wasted. We sat. All of us. Aunties, uncles, cousins, grandchildren and mum, trying to be calm, to not scare her. No idea between us if she knew what was ahead. If she had any level of comprehension of the hand she had been dealt. That soon she and my granddad would be reunited in eternal peace. 

The feeling was somber but I don’t think I would be wrong to say that it was somewhat conflicted. We we watching her suffer more and more every day, and had been for such a long time. Her mind active but body weak. Her frustration growing daily at her inability to jump outa bed and just get on with life. Her pain and suffering literally shrinking her before our very eyes. No one wanted her to go, but we also knew that she didn’t want this. Such a lively woman, sharp, whitty, independent, proud. She was also (god awful) stubborn and always right (even when so wrong)! But that was who she was and we loved her despite it. Now here she was almost lifeless before us. We hoped for her that the suffering would end soon. But feeling like that is so hard when you selfishly don’t want them to go.

In her typical way, she had other ideas. She clung on for 6 more agonising days, finally passing peacefully in her sleep on Saturday May 21st.

I had been to see her that morning. I sat holding her hand and watched as she slept. When it was time to go, as I had done each time I had left her side the days before, I couldn’t bring myself to say goodbye. Not knowing if it would be the last time. So as I gave her a soft but lingering kiss on the forehead I said “Goodnight, God bless. I love you” and each time without fail the tears would form as I glanced behind me before my exit.

I hadn’t been home long when the call came. I saw “mum” appear on my phone and I knew. I sat to answer. She was gone. I literally broke. Right there and then the flood gates opened. Even now writing this my eyes are streaming recalling that moment. 

So now I sit today in my garden two weeks on, waiting to visit her in the chapel of rest before she is laid to ground on Thursday. 

The time has passed so slowly since. In an odd way life moves on. Things seem normal and then there are moments when it hits me all over again. She’s gone. Never again will she share stories of me as a toddler waving around her priceless Royal Albert dinner service. Or the time I got my granddad drunk on 2 hot toddies. Never again will I jump from sitting on her finger whilst she rolls around in hysterics laughing- (that one never got old for her)! 

There were so, so many great times we shared, and too many tears along the way. But regardless of the situation she was, and always will be a formidable woman. A force to be reckoned with. A trait that I hope to have inherited from her. 

But now she sleeps. 

To my Nanna always and forever my inspiration, I will love you with every breath in me. 

Rest in peace my darling X

Absolute

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So yet again I’m late on posting this but better late than never I guess… I’m finally pleased to say that as of April 4th I’m no longer married.. And do you know what I’m still alive. Still smiling. Still doing what I do. I cannot lie and say that I don’t have the odd wobble, in fact a few days before I received this letter I called an old pal of mine mid “breakdown”.  I was breaking my own heart at the fear of getting this news. I knew it was coming and the thought of it, my marriage, being final filled my stomach with the darkest of dreads imaginable. 

I called this specific friend as she has recently been through a divorce, she knows me and (sadly) him too.  In that moment I needed someone who got it. Someone who wouldn’t judge me, or worse be concerned about me. As strange as that sounds that was and is still a big worry for me- God knows my friends and family have endured enough holding me upright of late that I just cant put them through anymore. So I picked my sounding board accordingly.

Anyway it turns out she was the best person to call, she totally talked me down from the ledge. I explained to her how I felt, the darkness consuming me, the dizzying confusion, the deep deep sadness. How I couldn’t understand why I felt so sad, so unhappy about thought of the end when really it was over two years ago, or even long before that, after all it was never real to begin with.  I wasn’t sad about him, or was I? Help me!! 

My little yoda explained to me that the sadness is due to me grieving for the life that I knew, that I built, that I loved. The life that was taken away from me. The life that will never be. 11 years of shared dreams, secrets, fears, desires, fantasies. All those nights spent planning and moving forward toward our very own happy ending, the one in which we joked about him pushing me in a wheelchair (on account of my crappy joints and dodgy back gained from years of dancing), along the beach to watch the sunset. All now just words floating on the mist, dreams dreamt never never to be realised. 

This was the cause of my tears. Not any level of pain caused by a lost love. And do you know what she was, is so right. Once I stopped over thinking; trying to understand what my sadness meant, it all made sense. So then only a couple of days later when the letter arrived I filed it right away with the mountains of paperwork caused by the various lawyers I have funded over this past 18 months and got on with my day. No drama no fuss. Full stop. And life goes on. 

From here on out April 25th is no longer my wedding anniversary but rather just another day. It’s deleted from my diary, but will always sadly be in my memory. 

I’d like to end this post with two notes, firstly to my yoda. Thank you. Your strength, empathy and wisdom helped me find that final peice of the puzzle that I so desperately needed to move on. And move on I have. Love you J! 

Secondly to all the Ladies out there who find themselves in this state. Know this; it’s normal, it’s temporary, and you will get past it. Please, please do not confuse sadness with a need to take him back. Do not allow the pain to take over you, it’s cancerous and it will swollow you whole. Lean on your friends, family, and this little blog sphere of ours to find your strength for us. 

  Onwards and upwards is the only way!!

His Mum. A can of worms?

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Catch up

I recently apologised for being MIA and neglecting my blogging, trust me when I say this isn’t because I haven’t had anything to say in fact quite the opposite is true but being a working single mum is hard and I literally haven’t had time.

So I want to fill you in… let’s go back to just before the Christmas holidays…

Dec 15th, the run up to Christmas and my heart started to ache thinking about “His” mum. If I’m honest she’s not really my kind of woman- way too needy and pathetic for my liking- (maybe that explains a lot about him?) but she has always been nice to me and we do get along. Anyway her birthday was approaching as was Christmas and I couldn’t help feel sorry that she was missing out on so much with A. After all, none of what’s happened has anything to do with her so why should she suffer as a consequence of his actions, especially when so many others are already suffering as a result of his dirty hands?

*As a bit of context to this tale her other son, has two children that he allowed her to get close to, only to then walk away from them leaving her reeling in the pain of missing her grandchildren. Seeing her struggle with the injustice of that situation first hand for 11 years plays on my conscience. I’m not sure that I can do that to her again.

So after a number of long pep talks to myself…literally out loud…I found the courage to call her. Not knowing how she would respond had me anxious and nervous, pacing the room and chain smoking. I hadn’t spoken to her since Christmas 2014 when I took A to meet her for the first time. That meeting was awkward and unsettling to say the least. There was the largest pink elephant in the room that she did not want to acknowledge- to the point that she never even mentioned that fact that I was at least half the size that I was the last time we saw one another. Stoic and aloof she sat making small talk until we were done.

And that was that.

Things then between him and I took a nasty turn with all the threats, criminal charges, the lies, my job, the move back home, my breakdown. All of which fed into my fear of not speaking to her.

Too afraid to contact her to tell her what was happening for the risk that he would twist it in to some kind of harassment, stalking or slander accusation. So I didn’t. I stayed silent. She in turn NEVER contacted me either- not once. – her excuse was she had no contact detail for me which isn’t true, I had the same mobile number until Christmas, the same email address and she had my mums address… if she wanted to get in touch she could have.

Anyway I digress, but the fact that she hadn’t been in touch led me to contemplate what stories he had told her.

Honestly this one had, and still has me baffled. I swing from left to right like a child’s ball aimlessly rolling around in the wind. One day I’m sure he hasn’t told her a thing, maybe just that I won’t let him see the baby or I’m not returning his calls or messages… to the next day when I’m convinced that he has told her I’m some wild crazy woman stalking and blackmailing him all over Germany and she needs to stay away.

So all this was swilling around my mind as I picked up the phone and called her number. Sweaty palms, pounding heart. Would she welcome me? Would she hang up after delivering a barrage of abuse at me? Would he answer?

Then the ringing stopped and there she was. It took every ounce of energy in me to control the tremble in my throat as I said who I was. A held breath; a pause just long enough to assess her reaction… thankfully she seemed genuinely pleased to hear from me. Her voice soft and calm, she asked how I was.

After the niceties were done I explained my position; I’m happy for her to see the boys if she wants to, but I would also understand if she would rather not given the situation. She immediately jumped at the opportunity.

Surprisingly though, she requested that we do it after the holidays. Huh, that had me stumped. Her birthday was only a couple of days away and Christmas just after that, so I would have though she would like to see them as a little treat to herself during this time of love and forgiveness. Later that one all became clear when I found out that he had been home for the entire festive period and well in to January. It was clear she didn’t want him to know we were speaking!! That was good news for me.

We left the call with the agreement that I would contact her after Christmas to arrange a time and date, but not before she questioned me on why I had blocked her from Facebook. I strategically chose my words; “the situation between him and I was that sever and volatile that I had to remove all contact for mine and the boys’ safety” pause for reaction.

None came.

Strange… maybe he had said something? Maybe she felt as much? Maybe she just didn’t want to know?

I left it alone and tried where I could to have a great Christmas with my babies and family.

Then I started work in January, we all got ill. One after another for (I’m not joking on and off for two whole months) then came the last round of Narc manipulation and control; the threats he made on the run up to the court date. Then mine and O’s trip to Germany- which as you will note from my blog Sky’s Above caused me a large amount of anxiety, so all said and done contacting her just didn’t feel right. Dangerous. And simply put I just wasn’t ready for another battle or to expose myself and the boys to more pain and sadness.

After my trip to Germany and it seemingly all being quiet I felt that the time was right. So I called her again, March 24th and we arranged to meet on Easter Monday at her home.

I arrived with the plan that his name would not be spoken from lips.

Upon arrival I was bright and breezy, chipper as my southern counterparts would say.

My tone set the tone of the day as she in return was sweet and pleasant. The conversation was all around A & O, general chit chat you know. As I left I firmly told her that I was happy for her to see the boys as often as she liked. She had my number and to let me know when she wants to see them again. So that was that. Another fear faced.

Maybe I’ve done the wrong thing, maybe this will come to bite me in the ass when he finds out we are speaking, or maybe this will give him another source of supply, feeling like I’m doing this to be close to him… that couldn’t be further from the truth. Who knows. One thing I will say is I’m not going to waste my precious time and energy thinking about it. What will be will be… lets just see how long it takes for her to get in touch, that’s of course if she does…

Good bye German days

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Again aboard flight. The lights of Frankfurt woven into intricate patterns, like the web of a spider glistening in the morning dew down below. I’m not sad to be leaving. I did my job. What I came here to do. Find my peace. Face my fears. Move on. 
I have laughed- hard! I saw my peeps, my ladies, my heart. 

I drank. I ate. I shared another’s celebration. I reminisced with my city, recreated a breakfast tradition for old times sake. And I smiled. From deep within I smiled. But most importantly I said goodbye, emotionally.  

Now I go willingly, on my terms but not before I gift Nuremberg a piece of my heart. My healed heart. 

I head home now to my biggest joy my boys. The job I love the most. Being a mama. 

Until next time Germany, be kind! 

My city and me; day two part two!

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Hugo, shopping my city and me- day two part two

 I can’t even describe this feeling without you all thinking I’m some weirdo but I’ll give it a go. Today has been fantastic so far. My date was fab! Peaceful, romantic, nostalgic. Amazing. 

The bustling streets; the Easter market stalls brimming with bunnies woven from straw and painted eggs hung from branches all over town. The trestle tables are sheltered from the early spring showers with red and white canopies, providing a wonderful opulent feast for the eyes. 

My vantage point, bar Alex. High above the martkplatz, the smell of coffee, crepes and bratwurst rising up, tempting me to indulge. 

There’s a slight chill in the air, but in wonderful German fashion I’m cosy warm thanks to the gratis blanket left lovingly on my chair just for my comfort.    

The blanket provides more than a touch of warmth. It’s a symbol of safety; arms engulfing me holding me close protecting me from the once dark shadows of the town around me. The streets echo with the barking laughter from the traders down below, drowned out only by the chimes of the magnificent cathedral sitting in pride of place at the head of the square.

Today I have walked every inch of this city (still wearing that smile) I and in the process I silenced my mind. 

It would be a lie to say I didn’t think of him.. How could I not. But honestly, it’s so different. Today I wanted to see him and for him to see me. I knew that in a second he would recognise the sparkle I had in my eye, the spring in my step. He would sense my contentment. He would feel the confidence and happiness emanating from my being. He would recognise this as the thing he once saw every day. The thing he threw away. The thing he will never see again. From me. From anyone. And right there he will know that I won. 

Sadly he didn’t appear, but Hugo did. Just what I need after a day of loving my city and shopping. Cold Refreshing, Lush Hugo! 

I sit with Hugo and let the world carry on around me a while longer. I think of the giggles last night with my wonderful girl friends. An odd bunch some may say, thrown together from all walks of life.. But the genius is in the crazy, and it just works. They amaze and astound me every day. Today a slower catch up with one who couldn’t make dinner last night. Adorable sweet Jess. I have so much to be thankful for. I am blessed. It’s crazy, I feel like So much has happened and I’ve only been a day and yet in context nothing has happened at all. 

I glance at my watch. Time to say goodbye to Nuremberg – for today. I’m not sad. Not at all. Tonight a party more fun, more friends.. No doubt more drinks! And maybe a boy… (Shhh it’s a secret!) 

So to you my Nuremberg, 

Tschüss Meiner Liebe!! I go with peace and calm and in knowledge and joy that I will see you again very soon! 
 

Date with Nuremberg

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I’m so happy to sit here once again. Yes Starbucks is firmly in hand and a silly school girl grin plastered right across my face. You know the kind of smile you get the day after a great date, when your sitting alone thinking of your new love and you just feel warm Inside. That’s the one. I feel almost giddy in my delight. 

I love this place. Always have done but leaving was so hard, frought with what ifs with future regrets. The Places of this city, our places became part of the cover up-part of the lie that was my life. So leaving was so bitter sweet. I felt like not only had he betrayed me but my city had to. She covered up for him. Gave him the shadows to skulk about it. And she allowed me to think life was rosey she never get me a hint! No clues at all. 

So today my plan is simple. I’m going on a date with my city. I have forgiven her and I’m allowing  her to show me her forgiveness is appreciated. 

I will hold her hand and love and document her in all her splendid glory warts and all. Through my tourist lense I’ll rewrite those past feelings and create a new story of my life here. 

So for now I will bid you tscuss and set off to fall in love! 

Sky’s above

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Up here in this moment all is calm. Pastel blue sky’s as far as the eye can see. The only mark on this vast mass of Mother Nature at her best are the mallow clouds backlight by the early spring sun. 

I can breath. Up here away from it all I can relax take a moment to just sit. Not to think. Not worry. Not fret. None of it matters, not up here. 

But soon I will be on the ground again. And the troubles will return. My inner turmoil will rise up once more like soldiers on the front line ready for the next phase of battle to commence. Always alert, always on guard. 

For some time I have said that I know he won’t let me get away with beating him in the divorce; that this war was far from over.  I may just be about to deal him his next hand.

My boo and I are en route to our beloved Germany. And although I’m hugely, overwhelmingly excited to see my friends, to date my beautiful city of Nuremberg, to be alone in this familiar space. I am petrified to my core. 

My last contact with him (via the lawyers) resulted in another round of threats against me. Threats from him to take Legal action against me in some vain attempt to scare me, to make me the bad guy, to justify his own behaviour.  No basis, no reason, no provocation or cause just because he can and he has before.  And it worked then. Why wouldn’t he try again?  Now he has no control nor has he had any reaction from me and he just can’t stand it. He will do all he can to cause me pain to make his own feel less isolated, he knows no different. 

I try where I can, up here to empty my mind if these thoughts.  It’s impossible. As we fly closer and closer to our destination my pulse starts to gain pace. The anticipation of passport control, the how do I protect my son from seeing this happen, the embarrassment of being hauled away by the German airport police for some crime I never committed- I’ll spend months and thousands of euros to fight nothing more than an outlandish allegation, well it literally brings my heart out of my chest – bile boiling up in my throat. 

So why am I going? Feeling like this why on earth would I do this to myself?  

My boo needs this. Deserves this. So do I. We were forced out of a life we loved, a life we created. Gone forever through no fault of our own, and I need to claim it back for him.  

Secondly I refuse to let this fear hold me back. If that’s what happens it happens. I have no control. But neither will he. He will take joy, pleasure no doubt that his latest plan worked but he will see that no matter what he does I will stand back up again. It may take a while but I will.

I have to show him that I won’t continue to live in the shadows of his darkness. I won’t allow him to cast his depression over me, his grief and his pain is his to keep and I refuse to allow him to inflict it upon me.

Yet here I am writing this. With no plan to actually post until we are safely back in Great Bretannia- just in case! 

Well maybe I’m not that brave… Or possibly I’m just being sensible… Yes that’s it. I’ll go and enjoy myself safe in knowledge that he has no clue.. Simply I’m not going to kick the hornets nest. 

Written in the sky’s above on March 18th on the way to Munich. Posted upon return on Sunday 20th

 

Momentary lapse

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Yesterday I had one of those forgetting what happened between us  blips. You know, the ones when something happens and you immediately think of him. You reach for the phone to call and laugh about whatever it was that prompted the need to call in the first place. In this case it was trees, not just any trees.. My trees. It was a private joke we had about trees I planted in school. Whenever we passed them in the car he would say,”hey guess what?”, “what?”, “Wanna know who planted those trees?”and I would say “Me!!”

And we would giggle. Every time without fail. Silly I know but it became one of those weird tradition skit type things that we just did. 

But then it dawned on me. I’ll never call him again. I’ll never laugh about those trees or any of our little “things” again. 

It made me sad. Only for a second. But sad nonetheless. 

That’s all

X

The Gavel Fell

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img_0911

I realise that I have not yet posted an update following my post day of reckoning so here it is.

The night before court

Wed Feb 10th 2016. Baby asleep, O doing his homework and me soaking in the bath. My head spinning with sickness. I flit (as I so often do) between tears of fear and of anger, but today more anger. The bath, my only solitude, washing away the signs of my sorrow. The vacuous sound of the taps flooding my surroundings with steaming hot water drowning out the deafening noise of my sobs.

The words still jumping from the page, replaying over and over in my mind as they have done since I first heard them through my lawyers’ voice on Monday.

“If your client refuses to settle out of court and agree to my clients demands he will move ahead with his legal right to raise a civil case against her for the illegal obtaining of his personal data”

Yes, I had access to his data. Access that he gave me when he begged to come home after D-day. It was one of my many conditions in allowing him home, and one he agreed to freely. And I have emails to prove it. But given my past brush with the German law (thanks to his mucky hands), it’s guilty until proven innocent and I simply don’t have anything else left in me to draw on if needed to fight.

I’m scared. Really scared. My O wants so desperately to return to his adopted home. To see his friends. The friends who carried him through things that no child should ever see or hear. Friends that he won’t ever see again if he makes good on his threat.  Right or wrong how can I do that to my boo? My principles and stubbornness don’t count any more, as much as I hate it, I have to agree… you all know as a parent its engrained on us to protect our children. An innate desire to see them happy. My boo is not happy. And god only knows how that kills me each and every day. If I don’t agree we won’t ever be able to return to our beloved Germany without the dread and embarrassment of being arrested as a result of his lies. His desperation. His cowardliness.

Anger sets in

I lie, still in the tub… my sobs quieten… my breathing quickens.

How dare he threaten me again after all he had already done! How dare he harass me again! How dare he try in his typical narcissistic bullying style to manipulate me so he can get his own way! How dare he dictate to me what I must do!!

Then the thought strikes, he doesn’t have any control here, he is the scared one not me!

I am prepared to stand in that court room and answer whatever is thrown at me. To have every last transaction for the past 12 months scrutinised. After all I have been honest. A trait that simply escapes him, a word he will never know the meaning of.

I had to ask myself;

“What was it that was holding him back?”

Seeing me? Maybe…It’s possible that I am the mirror he just cannot face; I am the reality that he is running from. Out of sight and out of mind for so long, now due to stand face to face and he cannot bear the thought.

No that’s not it.

It’s the fraud. Yes, THAT’S it.

You see, I showed my hand in the questions I raised on his, well, fictional financial documents. Documents that not only demonstrated, yet again, how little he thought of my intelligence whilst ironically proving his own lack of intellect.

Did he not think that I would spot the four police fines for solicitation? The interest hitting his account from a USA trust company- an account he failed to declare! The gaps in rental payments, the lack of utility payments and the transfers in and out to Gabi… (One of the MANY Other Women, whom, as a side note has a surname which literally translates to Limp-leg… Or as I prefer Lame ass! he he), would I not realise that he was living with her? Nor did he think I wouldn’t see the bailiff payments for his failure to pay council tax, or the blatant TAX evasion.  Oh what about the 54,000-euro loan that he claimed to have! The one he somehow managed to get on his 80K salary without any asset to secure it on. One for which there is no evidence of anywhere in his accounts never mind any repayments being made…

The penny has dropped…He cannot stand in a court room and answer questions on these so called “facts” without either being charged with perjury or fraud.

Gumption

I rise from my hide away tub and go to the office, wrapped in a towel but still dripping, my skin prickling as the cold air hits. Lifting a pen and a piece of paper I begin to weigh up the pros and cons of what’s on the table. The “agreement” I must abide by to avoid prosecution was nothing more than a joke. Obviously it’s stacked in his favour. If I agree, as it stands then I walk away with little more than a week’s childcare worth of money as my son’s maintenance.

Nope. That’s not how this was going to go. I turned my pen to making a different list. A list of my demands. My gumption was on the rise. I spill all that anger, all that pain on to the stark white A4 paper positioned square in front of me.

All of a sudden I feel light. Warm, despite my now chattering teeth.

The day of reckoning

I rise early. I prepare to look my best. I’m prepared to go in there and fight but more importantly I’m prepared to walk away with nothing and that gives me strength. It gives me power to overcome his attempts at intimidation. After all I’m secure in the belief that truth will prevail, and if nothing else, I stood up for what I believed in.

My thoughts are disturbed by the sound of my ringing phone. The name highlighted, illuminating the inevitable conversation with my lawyer.

She, in her usual forceful way launches in to her “Right now what we need to do is… blah blah”.

“Stop Christine! I have made some decisions and I wont be changed. I need you to take these down and tell him it’s this or court.”

“Ah ok”

I start to talk, after each point she intervenes “but a court wont agree to that” or “That’s more than he would have to pay if…”

Again I stop her.

“This isn’t about what a court would agree, this is about seeing exactly how scared he is of facing his judgement day, of seeing me, of risking prison.” “it’s this or court!”

“Ok” the line goes quiet. I dry my hair, smoke another cigarette.

I arrive at my mums’ house two hours before the time we are due in court, 45 minutes before I meet my lawyer. My phone buzzes with the dulcet tones of her calling me. I answer with trepidation.

“Its done!” “he agreed it all” she goes on “I tell you, you are one smart cookie, I cannot believe that you have managed to get all that from him!”

I’m speechless. I’m elated. Yet I’m weirdly empty. I had prepared myself for yet another “worse day of my life” moment. It’s gone, it’s over… I won!!! No court, well at least not for me. She and his (and again I use this term loosely, lawyer- (£500 all in lawyer)) go and have it all legally agreed so it’s binding. No wriggle room here big boy. And that’s it.

I go in to mums house, and I cry. Sob in fact. I hear mum, upon hearing me cry “what’s happened, what’s wrong?” All I could muster was “I WON”   She held me tight as she has done ‘oh so many times and I feel her shake in her embrace.

A couple of weeks have now past and the thought that he just wouldn’t sign, wouldn’t follow through continued to plague me throughout. But sign he has. The money has, well for A’s support at least, hit my account- so far so good.

So that’s it. I now choose when to make the divorce final, but I have one last condition that needs to be settled, but once it is I’m out. He is someone else’s problem. Or in his case many other people’s problem as from what I see there are still many more outside of “LAME ASS” … buying what he’s selling.

I’d like to end this post on a note. To all you ladies fighting with this system, these disgusting cowardly men, stand strong. Know yourselves and what you are worth. Don’t be bullied or scared by Narcissistic tactics and know when they hit out like this its because you called them on their bull shit. They’ve lost control and they hate it.

Who knows he may have already plotted my demise, I certainly don’t think I’m going to get away with this long term. he will strike again. But I won once and I will again. So too shall you!

 

Another milestone

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A couple of weeks ago one of my followers commented on one of my previous posts asking why I hadn’t or if I ever planned to write about “D Day”.  My reply was that it was just too painful to do so at this time but yes I eventually would.  Then last week this photo appeared in my Facebook memories feed…The announcement of my second pregnancy. Posted two years ago to the day, Feb 28th.

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It took me right back. To that place. You see I posted that picture tagging him in, strategically. And, as expected, within moments my news feed notifications sprung alive with messages of congratulations and love for me and my husband from friends and family near and far. I sat alone in my big cold German home with tears gushing down my sullen face watching the tally rise into the hundreds, comment, like, comment, like. I honestly don’t think there was anyone in our network who hadn’t seen it. Good.

You see what most people didn’t realise was that on this day, one of the two happiest days of my life, or what should have been was actually the worst. Known forever more as D Day…

My husband had left me for another woman only a matter of hours previous. Me 10 weeks pregnant. My posting of that picture- when the only other person in the world who knew at that time was Oliver, was not in celebration, to share my joy with the world, it was out of anger. If he was going to walk out on me I was going to make sure everyone knew that he had left me pregnant.

The following day also happened to be another significant day. Feb 29th. A leap year. 11 years ago to the day we got engaged. I’m not sure if it’s poetry in motion or an evil twist of fate that these two things coincided the way that they did, the beginning and the end of something wonderful nestled next to each other, hand in hand like sleeping twins… so close and yet so far. 11 years of a love cherished, memories made, traditions created, dreams realised, hopes shared, pain halved, struggles survived, successes celebrated and a child raised. Gone in the blink of an eye.

I sit today thinking about these two dates, the significance of yet another couple of milestones achieved, anniversaries past and rather than be sad about it, I’m celebrating. I’m celebrating because these dates just crept up on me. Without warning or notice. Bang there they were. Telling me that I’m done, at last; I was no longer dreading events, counting the days- forever looking back, I didn’t even notice that these dates were here already until they appeared on my feed.

Does this mean I’m healed? Well I wouldn’t go that far i clearly have a lot of issues to deal with (you’ll hear more about those soon) but one thing is for sure I am on my way. And that makes me smile. So today  I smile signing my divorce papers, knowing that i won. I won Financially, Emotionally and Physically, and i have my boys to celebrate with.

For those of you waiting to hear about D day you will. I’m ready. So watch this space over the coming weeks!