tales from the surviving straight spouse

I Wish I was a Bitch

Last night I had the strangest dream.

I was living in the same house with DD.  Our youngest son was there and we were fighting. I had confronted him because his lawyer had told me that he had plans to stab me and I reminded him about duty to warn.  He pointed a shot gun at me and pulled the trigger.  Nothing happened.  Oh, how he laughed.  I told him it wasn’t funny.  I began to pack my bags and leave.  Our youngest son was crying so hard – I couldn’t take him with me, I wasn’t allowed.  When I was at my car, he came running out of the house, very sad and upset.  He had read a letter I had hidden for him and it opened his eyes to how evil he was.  He begged me to stay, saying he would stop being so awful.  I woke up, crying.

Today I received a note from DD requesting that I come to probation with him because they messed up alimony and child support.  His lawyer submitted 3 different court orders that each had to be corrected and refiled for probation to pay for alimony and child support.  His alimony and child support payments were 10-14 days late every payment since June – with one check bouncing.

I think of spending 3 years asking to change the child visitation and six years of asking for the alimony and child support checks.  Only once did he ever actually give me a check on his own – and that was in front of his sister who always was extremely rude to me.  I don’t know what that was about.  I think of our son with his shaved scrotum.  I think of our other son calling me in tears because he’s been left home with his big brother and no adult supervision – again!

I think of all of that and so much more and I wish I was a bitch.  He thinks I’m a bitch – why not just be one…

I’m not, though.  I am me.  I can be annoying, sometimes I talk too much or too loud.  I don’t always make the best intellectual connections that others seem to do so easily.

I will answer tomorrow night sometime.  That’s as bitchy as I can be.

I wish I could get that image of our youngest crying and him holding the shot gun to my chest out of my head.  Now, that is some crazy shit symbolism there.

Comments on: "I Wish I was a Bitch" (1)

  1. I have tried to be calm, thoughtful and neutral in my dealing with the hex. It doesn’t matter. In his mind, and in his wife’s, I am the hateful, spited ex bitch from hell. Doesn’t matter if my shit smells like roses. Be you, be empowered, take care of those young men of yours, and take care of YOU! I think you’re amazing! And DD will get his. xoxo

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