Judge Each Day Not by The Harvest You Reap, But By the Seeds You Plant.
Today, I got divorced.
This day has been long in coming and I cannot believe that it is finally here. I have waited and waited, and that ass has kept pushing things off, fighting and pushing and pulling and waiting and waiting and making life as miserable as possible for me and the kids.
The judge cleaned his clock. Finally. Thousands of dollars wasted on useless things that could have been spent on other things, like the mortgage and utility bills and food for the kids... but at least it's over. Thank God.
I was named Primary and Residental parent for the children. Which is truly amazing, because S would be terrible for them. The little girl has been ill and he's been too busy doing whatever it is that he's been doing to take her to the doctor. The little boy has been ill for several weeks and he's been neglected by S for weeks. I've taken the kids to the doctor several times in the past weeks. I simply don't understand what S is thinking, but I know exactly who is doing the thinking for him.
I also dropped my maiden name entirely, my legal name is now just my married name. So many people have asked why I've chosen to do this.. and frankly, it's simply because the XXXX family has decided that they want nothing to do with me, and I'm happier not having anything to do with them. It works both ways.
I went to church this past Sunday and heard the most beautiful songs. I just don't get the whole Jesus thing, still. I hear a lot of contradictory messages in there, and when I listen to the teachings from the minister, I agree with a lot, especially from the Old Testament, but I don't agree with, nor do I understand the New Testament. I don't question or have questions on it either. I do hear a lot of messages in it that I don't want in my life, but I don't question.
I've said it before, and I will continue to say it, I was born Jewish, I will die Jewish, but I won't live Jewish right now. I don't like the religious community and I won't live by their standards.
Thursday
Monday
Dear God...
Dear God,
Please help me find my way. I'm lost, and I feel conflicted. I am torn in 100 different directions today. Today, I fell on my knees and prayed to you. I need you to help E find his way. He scared me today. I love him, and I am scared for him.
Today I found out that a friend lost a child. I called my children and listened to their voices. It did not comfort me.
Lord, Father, how do I know what is the right direction? How do I know where I am supposed to go? How am I supposed to know where You wish to lead me?
There is such tragedy in the world, in our world...
I have found happiness, and it is not in the path that I had thought You had originally led me, and yet, I am happy, I am content, and I am satisfied.
Yet, I am afraid for my dear heart, and my friend.
Dear Lord,
Please help my boat find his way. I need him.
Please help me find my way. I'm lost, and I feel conflicted. I am torn in 100 different directions today. Today, I fell on my knees and prayed to you. I need you to help E find his way. He scared me today. I love him, and I am scared for him.
Today I found out that a friend lost a child. I called my children and listened to their voices. It did not comfort me.
Lord, Father, how do I know what is the right direction? How do I know where I am supposed to go? How am I supposed to know where You wish to lead me?
There is such tragedy in the world, in our world...
I have found happiness, and it is not in the path that I had thought You had originally led me, and yet, I am happy, I am content, and I am satisfied.
Yet, I am afraid for my dear heart, and my friend.
Dear Lord,
Please help my boat find his way. I need him.
Tuesday
The Family Closure Letter
In the middle of my journey, several questions came up. One of the questions that kept coming up was why was so angry.
Here. I'd thought it was obvious. I was telling my family why I was so angry for years, and they honestly wanted to know why I was angry. I felt that this this was such a slap. But I wrote a letter anyhow.
Like I said, there are only two names in this blog that I will not change the names. Everyone else's names have been changes...because God already knows who you are and what you did
Here. I'd thought it was obvious. I was telling my family why I was so angry for years, and they honestly wanted to know why I was angry. I felt that this this was such a slap. But I wrote a letter anyhow.
Like I said, there are only two names in this blog that I will not change the names. Everyone else's names have been changes...because God already knows who you are and what you did
So, where are you? Where have you been? When I had "little girl", M only came to spend three days with me, because grandmother was living with her. Though Sarah was right up the street and could have taken care of her, and I had no one else, NO ONE. Yet, I managed on my own.
When :little boy" was born, the fact that the family harassed the hell out of me for clearly stating that I was not going to N2s wedding because it was 12 days after his birth, was outrageous. Some of you called your own doctors to ask if my doctor was out of line telling me that I shouldn’t travel, without even knowing my full medical history (not at ALL instrusive???). Then, when I made the trip, and the subsequent sheva brachos, I was treated like a second class citizen. Ruti acted like the machsheyfah that she is, and Sarah as her usual big mouth “has to be involved in everything” self. I didn’t have food, because no meals were arranged for me, because M had said that I would get sheva brachos leftovers, and then forgot! Wait, let me guess, I should get over it, right?
In spite of the fact that my C-section took a year longer to heal because of this than it should have, because I didn’t have my family’s help, because they were too busy planning a wedding… I didn’t speak out. It was the first time in my entire life that any of my brothers had ever told me that they were proud of me.
When I went to Dallas for my PhD conference, and made plans for my family and my children, my parents conveniently decided to up and go to New York, leaving me in the lurch with some of those plans, having to run, while in Dallas, and make emergency plans on the spur of the moment. Did you not for one second think to ask G1to make those changes in plans? That caused huge rifts in my marriage. But, no, you’d only make a commitment to me, and I doesn't count, so it was ok.
Same things with my surgery around Shavous. I was having surgery, and I made the date, and after the date was decided, you decided to go to New York. Never mind that I was having surgery. Which left me to deal with surgery, my husband whom I was having issues with (which according to his “blog” which I know you've seen attached, you knew about) and my idiot interfering sister in law, alone.
You want to know why I feel as though you have never been there? Well, it is because You Have Never Been There.
And, you know? It’s not my perception. I have had two people, on two separate occasions, come to me and ask me why you, as my parents, are always around for others, but never for me. One in particular told me that it has nothing to do with what I say versus what I don’t say. She said that I don’t have to say anything, that she “isn’t blind” and that people in the community can see for themselves.
When I had one miscarriage after another, my father told me that I was grieving too long. And when I went to the Rav who told me it could take a year or two to get over it, my father told me he wasn’t a “Rav worth his salt” because of what “halochah says”. Well, father, you might be shocked at who the Rav was. I’m not going to tell you, because I don’t want you to go “verify” my story, and frankly, I don’t give two toenails about your opinion anymore. Additionally, you might find it shocking that just because you disagree with something, doesn’t mean it isn’t so. Father, you are the biggest narcissist I have ever met.
My father, had the nerve to want to speak to my therapist? Because he felt that what I was telling him wouldn’t be accurate? That is the biggest load of horseshit I have heard in years. Aside from being an enormous breach in boundaries, (which I allowed anyhow), it was not because you were concerned for me, it was because you were worried about what was being said about you! You were more worried about your precious reputation.
Absolutely disgusting and shameful, and you didn’t even hide it well, your agenda was “see through” to my therapist (the first one I wouldn’t let you talk to), to Dr. P, and to myself. Shame, Shame, Shame.
You have backed yourself into a hole. For 36+ years I have had the “privilege” of listening to how as part of this family there are honors and rewards of being an “XXXX”. For years, carrying that name meant something, and now all it carries, for me, anyhow, is a strong sense of shame. I am ashamed of having my name associated with any of you. When people now, ask me if I am related to you, I tell them no, there is no relation, because your behavior has been shameful.
You want to know why I’d started distancing myself? You always harassed me about how much I talked. Well, a little more than two years ago I stopped talking, and that’s when you decided you were going to start to maybe listen?
You always taught me not to lie. You taught me to be honest, at all costs, and that honesty has brought me nothing but pain, because my own family has never believed anything that I have said, especially when I have said the truth.
When I was young, and said that I was being bullied and tortured, you did not believe me, and all throughout my life, when I came to you for something, you felt the need to “verify” my stories, to go to others, at my expense, without a thought to my reputation or to my pride, and “verify” if my “stories” as you call them, were true. You may not have liked what I had to say to say, but in your choosing not to listen, I went somewhere else, and they listened… they brought my “stories” back to you, and I was punished for crying out for help, but you DID listen. Did it ever occur to you that you are the reason that I am the exact way that I am?
In the past six months or so, the words “immoral, disrespectful, bad judgment” have all been bandied about”. Why is that? Because I have chosen to distance myself from a family that is highly intrusive, heavily interfering, openly hostile, does not take me at my word, disrespectful to me, and takes absolutely no interest in knowing who I am or what it is that I do. You have shown more love and acceptance towards my brother’s wife, and to my husband, than to myself. And then, you had the sheer, and absolute nerve, to use small and innocent children as the excuse to do what you did. Sheer, absolute cowards are what you are. Only cowards hide behind little children.
And now, you’ve done the same thing. I was brutalized, beaten up by my husband, someone who is not blood family, and after years of listening to my father tell us how he would do anything for his children, even go to jail, he is sitting idly by, doing nothing because according to Y2, who frankly had no business being involved in the first place, I should have had to ask. A child should have to ask for help? What kind of parents are you? All I can say to you is that I hope my children learn nothing from you, and there is a reason that I do not encourage them to spend time with you.
You brought Y2 into the situation. A young man, who is the youngest sibling, who, while maybe has a very good head on his shoulders, has never truly understood the concept of absolute respect for an older female sibling. Y2, who has called, and treated me as though I am a criminal, and mentally unstable, who coerced me into getting treatment, who spent time treating me as though I was completely insane and then went and repeated what I said to my husband, who later repeated things to his therapist and then later on to you, which at that point you twisted.
Do you know that because of your actions, in bringing my siblings into your mess, and your inability to communicate with me, you destroyed the one thing that you claim to hold so dear: the family?
Because of your actions, because of Ruti, N1 and their actions, I will never again speak to Ruti or N1, I will never have a relationship with my nephews, who will have no idea who I am because Ruti will make sure of that. But you probably do not care about that. I will never again trust a single member of the family, and haven’t by the way, for months. I do not believe a single word that any of you tell me, because as far as I am concerned, you are more concerned with your precious reputation, and how you are seen by others, than the truth. You have never really been concerned with the truth. Don’t have Y2 call me up and tell me what was “allegedly” said behind closed doors, or the hours long conversations on what you “think” you should do. Words mean nothing to me, because for years, I have watched as you have said many hateful, hurtful words to, and about me.
Your love and acceptance of me has always come with conditions and a price. I am no longer willing to pay that price or accept those conditions. I sat and watched, holding in pain and anger while comments were made about my weight, my looks, my clothing, my choices . You were ashamed to be seen with me while I was obese and overweight. I pulled my hair out, which was a cry for help and attention that you ignored, because it may have meant that your parenting was incorrect, and when people came to you, and told you something was wrong, you told them to go screw themselves. Yes, I know about that because they told me. I did not come to verify their stories, because frankly, as my parents, you terrify me. I do not love you. I honor you because the Torah says I have to. I am terrified of you, because you instilled that in me. Grandmother always said that her inheritance to her children was fear. Well dear parents, your parents to your children is fear too.
I do not love you, because your actions destroyed the ability for me to do that. For the record, I do not hate you either. I have no feelings for you in that regard either way. I am however, very angry. I never ever want my children to be terrified of me. What a shameful thing for me to have to admit. If this letter brings you nothing else, I hope that you are deeply ashamed that you, my father, turned out to be just as bad, if not worse, than the abusive bastard your father was, and you, my mother, are playing the victim beautifully, but victims can be abusers too.
I laughed too loud, I talked too much. I didn’t act “Normal” enough for you. Well, I had the foresight to get the help that you felt I needed. None of you have ever bothered to do so. I stood up for myself because I had to. None of you ever did. Instead of finding out why I was so hugely overweight and ate all the time, you simply called the school and told them not to give me seconds on food. I was hungry, so I got the food any way I could. That looked bad for the family reputation, so you punished me. When I was pulling my hair out, you didn’t bother to find out why, but I made the family look bad, so you punished me. You raised me as a boy until I was twelve years old, and then you told me to “act like a lady”. Did you ever one time, even ONCE, consider that you never taught me the things I needed to know on HOW to act like a lady? You still punished me when I did not behave the way you felt I should act.
When you thought I lied, you woke me up in the middle of the night to tell me off, and then to hit me. It never did occur to you that i wasn't lying. To this day, I do not sleep through the night. I do not trust. I have security issues, and I am afraid to sleep. I thank you, Abba, for that. For years, every time I would fall asleep, I would be traumatized and plagued by horrifying nightmares of being awoken and punished, or murdered in my sleep. The year that I spent in seminary in Israel, I would wake my roommates up with my nightmares. One told me that it was good that she didn’t sleep either, because my screams would have woken her up. But, you probably don’t believe that either. Perhaps you should call them to verify my story.
And yet, in spite of continued trauma that you put me through, I yearned for your approval. I put myself through school, never asked you to pay for my education, and got my Masters degree in Criminology. and I just got my Doctorate in Psychology with an emphasis in Criminal Behavior. Who does that? *I* did. So that I would be able to feel closer to my father, who still chose his son in law over his daughter (good choice, by the way). And, I want it made very very clear, that not once in the last six months have I asked for financial assistance on my own behalf. Dr. P., who is so highly incensed by your shameful behavior, has taken it upon himself to ask for me, and you turned him down, telling him that I would have to come begging and groveling to you if I wanted you to even considering helping me. Yeah.. I don't think so. I do not want your help. Again, I am not willing to meet your conditions to accept your help. And yet, you have the sheer nerve to make statements about how you are always “bailing me out”? I at least had the moral turpitude (the “classy” individuals in the family would call them balls), to pay back what I have borrowed).
Well, let me play a little tit for tat here, Family.
Call Tante N, and ask her to “verify” (if you won’t find it too terribly shameful, that is), if while I was living in P, and in D, and I still didn’t have a penny to my name, and M and A had even less, but I knew they were struggling, but I sent N $50.00 every month to put on their bill at the bakery, and $50.00 at the butcher.
Call the bookstore, and ask the owner if anyone has every “anonymously” paid off part of the family cheshbon in the past ten years.
Call the bakery, and ask if anyone has ever “anonymously” put money on their bill towards their credit in the past ten years.
Ask Y2 who paid for his plane ticket with mileage when he was dating his wife, because they couldn’t get a ticket, and a mileage ticket was the only way he was going to get there.
Ask M who she borrowed $400.00 from before she went to Israel from, once, because there wasn’t money in the account at the time, and let’s not forget the time I was called frantically from Israel, and I went to the house, making myself late for work, so that I could go fish $500.00 cash out of the toilet that was accidentally dropped there? Good Old Dependable me.
When N1's first kids were born, I called every one of his "boys" that I knew of and told them to get their acts together, get Ruti flowers, and a beautiful baby gift, because of how Ruti always put herself out for them. I made sure that she had dinners when she came back from her Florida trips, that N1always had food and so on. I picked up pizza in the pouring rain for N1so the girls cleaning his house would have what to eat before Ruti came home from the hospital.
No one ever did that for me. I cleaned my own damn house.
Who is it that everyone always called when there was an issue, or a problem, or someone needed dinner or something or something to be looked up, everyone called me, and stupid sucker that I am, I ran to do it. I should have said no, especially if I was busy doing something else, but I never felt that it was right to do that. Stupid me, so eager to please, like a puppy, well, I’m not your “hint” anymore.
Ask N1and Ruti if they ever “borrowed” money from me in the form of a money order or two that I have never ever asked them about, ever in the amount of a few thousand dollars. (Oh, don’t worry, I’m sure that they will deny it, but I can probably have the bank dig up the receipt).
A few other things about me that you should know. My birthday is February 15, 1974. That means, that I am 36 years old (not 25, not 38). A parent should at least know how old his child is, and just because a father is having “memory issues” does not mean that a conversation did not take place. Another convenient excuse to blame the victim. How dare you tell me that if you had to live with my crap you would have divorced me years ago? Well, I’ve made the decision for you. Now, we’re divorced. You never have to see me again, and if I have my way, you never will.
I never abused my children. I always did carpool, I always contributed financially to my family. I did the cooking for my family, and I cleaned up afterwards. I went to work when my husband sat on the computer and “networked”. I did what I had to do to take care of my family. However I also realize that you only heard one side of the story. You never came to ask me what was going on. You blindly accepted that I was the “bad guy”, which you have always done.
I realize that you may have disagreed with my choices, but I am an adult, and I am not required to come ask you for anything. I also realize that my not coming to ask for, or take your advice angers you.
Get over it. I did ask, I just may have chosen not to take your advice. There is a difference.
Some other things that you may not have known I was busy accomplishing while you thought I was just sitting at home, doing nothing, getting drug addicted, or abusing my children and emasculating my abusive, neglecting husband (who by the way, decided that he might be gay, then changed his mind, but either way, refused to have sex with me for two years).
I have never raised my hand in anger to another human being (how many of you can say that?)
I have never gotten a traffic ticket, not have I been stopped for erratic driving (amazing, considering that you all think that I am a drug addict, to the point where you had my privacy invaded).
I have never been fired from a job, nor told by others in a formal nor informal job evaluation that I am difficult to work with, or that I have anger management issues.
I have never been considered a danger to myself or to others.
I am a member of the American Psychological Association.
I am a member of the American Psychological Law Society.
I am a member of the American Criminal Justice Society.
I have been given highest honors and a graduate key based on my academics with a fraternity that I am part of, though because of your actions, I have had to give up part of my schooling (yes, your actions), and no, I will not explain. If you have questions, you can always call Dr. P, but I doubt you will like what he has to say, and since you never really listen to what anyone has to say if you disagree with them, I doubt you will call.
Because of your actions, a highly mentally unstable individual is going to hurt me again, and you will stand by and let it happen. G1 has continuously violated the restraining order that I have against him, and there are no consequences, because he is still being publicly supported by my family. Nice Job. Thank you again for that. And don’t try and use the children as your excuse. You’re just too big a coward to stand up publicly and admit you screwed the pooch and made a mistake.
If the test of a person is how they treat those they have power over, it is a test that you failed. You are greatly incapable of admitting any viewpoint but your own. You punish failure and weakness and do not accept anything less than perfection. My “father” sees his work within the community and the police department as some sort of holy and sacred calling, and whether or not anyone else wishes to admit it, your children suffered because of it. Perhaps, if you had been better parents, I would have been a better daughter. I am what I am, because of you.
I am not immoral, unethical, or disrespectful. Distancing myself from my family because they are toxic, poisonous, unhealthy, and have spent the better part of my life attempting to convince me that I am mentally unstable and mentally ill, is actually a very ethical, healthy, morally correct thing to do. Torah says that I have to honor my parents. It doesn’t say anywhere that I have to love them. Torah says a lot of things that you, conveniently choose not to follow. The lifestyle that I have chosen is mine because of the shameful, absolutely disgusting way that I constantly see people abusing Torah and Halochah to justify bad behavior. You, are amongst those people. I may no longer have my pride, my dignity, or the family name (which is fine, because I don’t want it, and haven’t in years), but I still have my self-respect. I can look myself in the mirror in the morning, and know that every single action I have taken was the right one.
I may not be able to purchase a single solitary thing for myself or my children. I cannot buy them boots, clothing, toys, or anything else. I cannot get them basic necessities, I cannot do anything for them right now, but the one thing I can give them, that they cannot get from you, or anyone else associated with you or G1, is the proper way to treat people. That, they will get from me, and it’s something that cannot be bought.
You chose your son-in-law over your daughter. I can live with that choice. The question is, can you?
I can go on for pages . I can write a book, a dissertation on why I’m angry at this family, at my parents, and on how wrongfully I have been treated. But I won’t, because doing so just eats away at me.
My only hope for you, is that you finally realize that I want nothing to do with you. If you want to help, help, if not, then don’t. Don’t ask what you can do, because when you were told what you could do, you took that opportunity to further add trauma, so your “overtures” are false and full of shit.
I want nothing to do with anyone from the family. Do not text me, do not call me, do not email me. As far as I am concerned, you are gone and buried, and I will mourn you on July 25th, the same day I mourn the death of my marriage.
You reap what you sow.
Dear Little Girl...
My sweetheart.. My love...
The other day, you came to me and asked me for a piece of jewelry or something that I had from my mother that she had gotten from her mother. You have no idea how very much I had something to give you. Instead I made something up with a cheap bracelet that I still had left.
The idea that there is nothing left is so very difficult for you to grasp. At 9 years old, you are having such a hard time with the entire idea of divorce, or domestic violence, or the entire idea of mommy not being home because I have to work overly hard to make up for child support that isn't given on time or at all.
Children should never be part of a divorce, willingly, unwillingly... at all. They are a terrible byproduct of a horrible thing.. and I feel so awfully guilty that you are in the middle of this awful awful thing.
That being said, I will not apologize for standing by my convictions. I love you so very much, and I hope that the time comes when you can forgive me the very hard time you are having.
The other day, you came to me and asked me for a piece of jewelry or something that I had from my mother that she had gotten from her mother. You have no idea how very much I had something to give you. Instead I made something up with a cheap bracelet that I still had left.
The idea that there is nothing left is so very difficult for you to grasp. At 9 years old, you are having such a hard time with the entire idea of divorce, or domestic violence, or the entire idea of mommy not being home because I have to work overly hard to make up for child support that isn't given on time or at all.
Children should never be part of a divorce, willingly, unwillingly... at all. They are a terrible byproduct of a horrible thing.. and I feel so awfully guilty that you are in the middle of this awful awful thing.
That being said, I will not apologize for standing by my convictions. I love you so very much, and I hope that the time comes when you can forgive me the very hard time you are having.
Dear Mommy...
You don't know this...
But I ask the little girl every time she goes to your house to give you hugs from me.
She always forgets.
But I ask the little girl every time she goes to your house to give you hugs from me.
She always forgets.
Dear N1
Dear N1,
I guess you're N1 now, since the other N, was born second... confusing. I saw you at the gas station the other day. I didn't have to go back in, but I used going in to buy a soda as an excuse to say hello. You probably don't realize the sheer amount of courage it took for me to just walk up to you and say hello. Actually, you're so blindsided by that asshole wife and idiot friends of yours, you probably don't realize a lot of things.
Regardless...
It did take a lot of courage for me to go into the gas station and say hello to you. You looked through me. I asked you, Don't I even get a hello?, And your response of "nope" was beyond painful.
One thing I always found amazing about the family was how strangers were always treated far better than the actual family. It's one of the reasons that I want to stay on the outside. Something I don't think that you will ever understand. After all, you are coddled. No one will ever treat you, a male, a "police officer" an anything, like I was treated. But I will succeed, and in the ultimate end, you will not.
The only thing that hurts me, that I find beyond and exceptionally painful, is that you have children that I do not know.. and that will only know me from what your "wife" will have told them about me. Which is probably so far from the truth, that there will be no actual truth within the kernels.
Know...I do miss you. I miss all the brothers.. and I find what is happening very very painful. I do cry you know.. although I doubt you care. And, I do know that I will continue to pay the price for all the sins of the family, even though they aren't mine.
I guess you're N1 now, since the other N, was born second... confusing. I saw you at the gas station the other day. I didn't have to go back in, but I used going in to buy a soda as an excuse to say hello. You probably don't realize the sheer amount of courage it took for me to just walk up to you and say hello. Actually, you're so blindsided by that asshole wife and idiot friends of yours, you probably don't realize a lot of things.
Regardless...
It did take a lot of courage for me to go into the gas station and say hello to you. You looked through me. I asked you, Don't I even get a hello?, And your response of "nope" was beyond painful.
One thing I always found amazing about the family was how strangers were always treated far better than the actual family. It's one of the reasons that I want to stay on the outside. Something I don't think that you will ever understand. After all, you are coddled. No one will ever treat you, a male, a "police officer" an anything, like I was treated. But I will succeed, and in the ultimate end, you will not.
The only thing that hurts me, that I find beyond and exceptionally painful, is that you have children that I do not know.. and that will only know me from what your "wife" will have told them about me. Which is probably so far from the truth, that there will be no actual truth within the kernels.
Know...I do miss you. I miss all the brothers.. and I find what is happening very very painful. I do cry you know.. although I doubt you care. And, I do know that I will continue to pay the price for all the sins of the family, even though they aren't mine.
Thursday
Dear Abba,
Well, I can't say it was a shock running into you at the gas station yesterday. It was bound to happen sooner or later. I'm not afraid of you anymore you know. It seems like I'm taller than you are. Perhaps because I am proud of myself and ashamed of you.
Do you know, I had been warned that you were coming in behind me? I know that there was no real reason for you to be at the station. You weren't getting gas, you weren't at a pump. Did you just happen to see my vehicle and decide that you were going to confront me? I'm not the same person I was.. and I don't confront easy anymore. I am a lot tougher than I used to be. And You Do Not Intimidate Me Anymore.
I would tell you to pick on someone your own size, but I think that you are too old and too tired to fight anymore. I think that if you weren't too prideful, you would want this all to end. It's a shame that it's too late.
You may not be fueling the fire, but you certainly lit the fuse.
Do you know, I had been warned that you were coming in behind me? I know that there was no real reason for you to be at the station. You weren't getting gas, you weren't at a pump. Did you just happen to see my vehicle and decide that you were going to confront me? I'm not the same person I was.. and I don't confront easy anymore. I am a lot tougher than I used to be. And You Do Not Intimidate Me Anymore.
I would tell you to pick on someone your own size, but I think that you are too old and too tired to fight anymore. I think that if you weren't too prideful, you would want this all to end. It's a shame that it's too late.
You may not be fueling the fire, but you certainly lit the fuse.
September 8th, 2011
Dear Former Family,
I think that this is how I should refer to you from now on. You aren't my family, not really, and so.. I don't know what else to call you.
Several things that I found out this month were so very disturbing. It bothers me tremendously when you ask my children how I am feeling. I am fine. If you want information about me, as ME. Don't ask my children. Why would you get them in the middle of such a thing?
I'm also bothered by the fact that S got into a car accident, with my babies in the car, and there was significant damage to the car, and the police were not notified. And frankly, he is still DRINKING at your house! How you could allow such a man to drink at your home.. after you made such a great big giant stink about me being a drug addict because I take Tylenol?
Really.. you should all feel such shame and regret. I feel shame and regret just because I was once ONE of you.
When people say that I am your daughter, sister, niece or whatever, I beg them to please not equare me with you, because I am not you, I am nothing like you. I am better then you.
I think that this is how I should refer to you from now on. You aren't my family, not really, and so.. I don't know what else to call you.
Several things that I found out this month were so very disturbing. It bothers me tremendously when you ask my children how I am feeling. I am fine. If you want information about me, as ME. Don't ask my children. Why would you get them in the middle of such a thing?
I'm also bothered by the fact that S got into a car accident, with my babies in the car, and there was significant damage to the car, and the police were not notified. And frankly, he is still DRINKING at your house! How you could allow such a man to drink at your home.. after you made such a great big giant stink about me being a drug addict because I take Tylenol?
Really.. you should all feel such shame and regret. I feel shame and regret just because I was once ONE of you.
When people say that I am your daughter, sister, niece or whatever, I beg them to please not equare me with you, because I am not you, I am nothing like you. I am better then you.
Frustration and Deliverance
Dear S,
Do I call you S? Do I call you G1?
I don't know what to call you, because you are never the same person. You don't even answer your own emails!
I can't speak with you because you are a different person on the phone than you are in email!
You send an email, then you have someone else answer it again. It's like talking to three different people.
Are you normal?
The court wants you to have a psych eval. I wish you would.
Your children are sometimes hate you. I think you are just disgusting.
Sometimes I want to irk you just so that you will lose it again and I can send you to jail, but I'm not willing to put myself in that position. What I do know is that you can't hide behind the family forever, and one day you WILL lose it again... and then I will be there to laugh.
Do I call you S? Do I call you G1?
I don't know what to call you, because you are never the same person. You don't even answer your own emails!
I can't speak with you because you are a different person on the phone than you are in email!
You send an email, then you have someone else answer it again. It's like talking to three different people.
Are you normal?
The court wants you to have a psych eval. I wish you would.
Your children are sometimes hate you. I think you are just disgusting.
Sometimes I want to irk you just so that you will lose it again and I can send you to jail, but I'm not willing to put myself in that position. What I do know is that you can't hide behind the family forever, and one day you WILL lose it again... and then I will be there to laugh.
Wednesday
Here's to Life... Shirley Horn
Well, allow me to take a song...
Here's To Life :
Here's To Life :
Here's to life
No complaints and no regrets
I stil believe in chasing dreams and placing bets
but I had learn that all you give is all you get
so give it all you got
I had my share I drag my field
and even though I'm satisfy I always still
to see what done on other road behind the hill
and do it all again
So here's to life
and every joy it brings
so here's to life
to dreamers and their dreams
Honey, all the times just climbs
a love can go from more hellos to sad goodbyes
and live you with the memories you memorized
to keep your winters warm
There is no yes in yesterday
and who knows what tomorrow brings or takes away
as long as I'm still in the game I want to play
for last, for life, for love
So here's to life
and every joy it brings
here's to life
to dreamers and their dreams
may all your strorms be weathered
and all that's good get better
here's to life, here's to love, here's to you
may all your stroms be weathered
and all that's good get better
here's to life, here's to love, here's to you
No complaints and no regrets
I stil believe in chasing dreams and placing bets
but I had learn that all you give is all you get
so give it all you got
I had my share I drag my field
and even though I'm satisfy I always still
to see what done on other road behind the hill
and do it all again
So here's to life
and every joy it brings
so here's to life
to dreamers and their dreams
Honey, all the times just climbs
a love can go from more hellos to sad goodbyes
and live you with the memories you memorized
to keep your winters warm
There is no yes in yesterday
and who knows what tomorrow brings or takes away
as long as I'm still in the game I want to play
for last, for life, for love
So here's to life
and every joy it brings
here's to life
to dreamers and their dreams
may all your strorms be weathered
and all that's good get better
here's to life, here's to love, here's to you
may all your stroms be weathered
and all that's good get better
here's to life, here's to love, here's to you
Here's to life
No complaints and no regrets
I still believe and chasing dreams and placing bets
but I had learn that all you give is all you get
so give it all you got
I had my share I drag my field
and even though I'm satisfy I always still
to see what done on other road behind the hill
and do it all again
So here's to life
and every joy it brings
so here's to life
to dreamers and their dreams
Honey, all the times just climbs
a love can go from more hellos to sad goodbyes
and live you with the memories you memorized
to keep your winters warm
There is no yes in yesterday
and who knows what tomorrow brings or takes away
as long as I'm still in the game I want to play
for last, for life, for love
So here's to life
and every joy it brings
here's to life
to dreamers and their dreams
may all your storms be weathered
and all that's good get better
here's to life, here's to love, here's to you
may all your storms be weathered
and all that's good get better
here's to life, here's to love, here's to you
No complaints and no regrets
I still believe and chasing dreams and placing bets
but I had learn that all you give is all you get
so give it all you got
I had my share I drag my field
and even though I'm satisfy I always still
to see what done on other road behind the hill
and do it all again
So here's to life
and every joy it brings
so here's to life
to dreamers and their dreams
Honey, all the times just climbs
a love can go from more hellos to sad goodbyes
and live you with the memories you memorized
to keep your winters warm
There is no yes in yesterday
and who knows what tomorrow brings or takes away
as long as I'm still in the game I want to play
for last, for life, for love
So here's to life
and every joy it brings
here's to life
to dreamers and their dreams
may all your storms be weathered
and all that's good get better
here's to life, here's to love, here's to you
may all your storms be weathered
and all that's good get better
here's to life, here's to love, here's to you
Happy Birthday
August 3, 2011
Dear S,
Today is your 45th birthday. And, it's been over a year since you've attacked me, and our marriage was officially over. I guess, if one would think about it, our marriage was over even before you told me that you might be gay, before you decided to love my family more than me... before you stopped touching me, and holding me, hugging and kissing me, holding my hand, and having sex with me.
I keep thinking back over the ten years we were married and I can't seem to figure out exactly when we went from best friends to enemies. I just can't seem to figure it out. I try, often, and I think about it, but the moment of that exact rift doesn't come.
The little girl saw me crying the other day. She was completely freaked out by my tears. She kepy wiping my face telling me "mommy, please please don't cry". Seeing me showing any kind of emotion like that scares her. That's what this has done to her.
I don't know how to sit and talk with you anymore. I remember the last time you and I touched (aside from the beating you gave me). I remember, it was the last day of school for me, and I had a teacher's meeting. Before the meeting, I begged you to sit and talk with me, to tell me what was going on with you, to tell me why you weren't talking to me anymore, to tell me that all was going to be ok. I begged you to please hug me, so that I would know that we would be all right.
You did. It felt wrong. Like I was being hugged by someone who wasn't my husband.
Being hugged by you felt like I was being hugged by a strange man... and I felt like I was cheating on you... with you.
Maybe it was the miscarriages that made us fall apart. Maybe we never were together in the first place. But it sure felt like I married my best friend. And, isn't it ironic that the date our divorce will more than likely become final is the date of our anniversary?
We have two absolutely beautiful children. People ask me all the time how that's possible if you're gay. I ask myself the same thing. And then I think about our sex life... about how I had to do all the work, about how hard it was for you, about how you had to keep your eyes closed, maybe about what you were thinking about, because I'm pretty sure if wasn't me.
I remember our last vacation, and I am pretty sure that all those times you went out on your own, you were wondering if there were ways to escape.
Now, I'm glad that you actually took the step and beat me up. I'm thinking that it was a blessing in disguise. I don't think that I ever would have left otherwise. I should really thank you.
Either way, Happy Birthday. I sometimes really hate you, you know, even though I think that hate is a wasted emotion. But, for today, I want you to have a day of joy. I really did love you, you know.
Dear S,
Today is your 45th birthday. And, it's been over a year since you've attacked me, and our marriage was officially over. I guess, if one would think about it, our marriage was over even before you told me that you might be gay, before you decided to love my family more than me... before you stopped touching me, and holding me, hugging and kissing me, holding my hand, and having sex with me.
I keep thinking back over the ten years we were married and I can't seem to figure out exactly when we went from best friends to enemies. I just can't seem to figure it out. I try, often, and I think about it, but the moment of that exact rift doesn't come.
The little girl saw me crying the other day. She was completely freaked out by my tears. She kepy wiping my face telling me "mommy, please please don't cry". Seeing me showing any kind of emotion like that scares her. That's what this has done to her.
I don't know how to sit and talk with you anymore. I remember the last time you and I touched (aside from the beating you gave me). I remember, it was the last day of school for me, and I had a teacher's meeting. Before the meeting, I begged you to sit and talk with me, to tell me what was going on with you, to tell me why you weren't talking to me anymore, to tell me that all was going to be ok. I begged you to please hug me, so that I would know that we would be all right.
You did. It felt wrong. Like I was being hugged by someone who wasn't my husband.
Being hugged by you felt like I was being hugged by a strange man... and I felt like I was cheating on you... with you.
Maybe it was the miscarriages that made us fall apart. Maybe we never were together in the first place. But it sure felt like I married my best friend. And, isn't it ironic that the date our divorce will more than likely become final is the date of our anniversary?
We have two absolutely beautiful children. People ask me all the time how that's possible if you're gay. I ask myself the same thing. And then I think about our sex life... about how I had to do all the work, about how hard it was for you, about how you had to keep your eyes closed, maybe about what you were thinking about, because I'm pretty sure if wasn't me.
I remember our last vacation, and I am pretty sure that all those times you went out on your own, you were wondering if there were ways to escape.
Now, I'm glad that you actually took the step and beat me up. I'm thinking that it was a blessing in disguise. I don't think that I ever would have left otherwise. I should really thank you.
Either way, Happy Birthday. I sometimes really hate you, you know, even though I think that hate is a wasted emotion. But, for today, I want you to have a day of joy. I really did love you, you know.
Thursday
Pretrial Hearing
Sat in the courthouse.. again... never saw the judge.. again!
He's in violation of the temporary restraining order, and he's not having to take responsibility for any of his actions, so I really hope that at some point he is going to have to. This is getting to be a farce of the justice system.
The FCS report did come out, and it was determined that he stopped taking his meds in 2010, because he did not feel that he needed them anymore. So, the FCS counselor determined that he should have a psych evaluation in order to determine if he needed further care (which I think is a fabulous idea). He won't, so I hope that the court insists on it.
Granted, this all makes me look better, and makes him look like a shmuck, but, I still feel that this is going nowhere fast!
He's in violation of the temporary restraining order, and he's not having to take responsibility for any of his actions, so I really hope that at some point he is going to have to. This is getting to be a farce of the justice system.
The FCS report did come out, and it was determined that he stopped taking his meds in 2010, because he did not feel that he needed them anymore. So, the FCS counselor determined that he should have a psych evaluation in order to determine if he needed further care (which I think is a fabulous idea). He won't, so I hope that the court insists on it.
Granted, this all makes me look better, and makes him look like a shmuck, but, I still feel that this is going nowhere fast!
Wednesday
Wednesday: PreTrial Settlement Meeting
So, his attorney wants to know if I'd be adverse to him taking out a life insurance policy on me.
Your damn fucking skippy I'm adverse to it!
Really?
Uhhh, sure! I want my spouse abusing, alcoholic hopefully soon to be ex husband to be allowed to take a life insurance policy out on me? Yeah, right!
But, other than that? I pretty much got everything else I wanted in the parenting agreement. He's not allowed to drink when he has custody of the children. I'm sure that won't stop him, but at least if he does, and I catch him, he would be in contempt of court.
Ok, we're finally moving along... finally. Essentially, he signed the agreement I wanted to sign a year ago. I have no idea why it took this long for him to sign the damn thing, but, here it is. Finally!
Ok, September 14th is the next pretrial hearing. Let's see what else that ass has to throw my way.
Your damn fucking skippy I'm adverse to it!
Really?
Uhhh, sure! I want my spouse abusing, alcoholic hopefully soon to be ex husband to be allowed to take a life insurance policy out on me? Yeah, right!
But, other than that? I pretty much got everything else I wanted in the parenting agreement. He's not allowed to drink when he has custody of the children. I'm sure that won't stop him, but at least if he does, and I catch him, he would be in contempt of court.
Ok, we're finally moving along... finally. Essentially, he signed the agreement I wanted to sign a year ago. I have no idea why it took this long for him to sign the damn thing, but, here it is. Finally!
Ok, September 14th is the next pretrial hearing. Let's see what else that ass has to throw my way.
Tuesday
July 26, 2011--Cutting the Kite Strings.
Dear Family,
Interesting that I still call you "the family", since I really don't consider you family anymore? I don't know what else to call you.
I've been doing so much reading on bullying and people, especially women, who go off the derech because of the high pressures put on them from the "frum" world. I find it especially disturbing how many women are mistreated because of the erroneous and misleading words that people find in Torah.
In other words... people mistreat others, and use Torah (or the bible, or whatever religious doctrine one wants to use) as a way to justify bad behavior.
I should just make that my mantra.
It's sad really. As the past month has gone by, I've seen several tragic events occur, and the one thing that I can't get out of my mind is the concept that people seem to do for show. They will give to others for show, they will do for others for show, they will make things for others for show, they will pay condolence calls for show.. but when it comes to doing something for another, quietly, without fanfare, they don't want to.
Why is that? Why is the concept of doing just for the sake of doing such a difficult one? And then, the question of course leads to that of modesty. Why does the idea of modesty fall on the woman. Is the man not required to be modest as well?
I've been filling out the necessary paperwork for the kids to go back to school in the fall, and I'm amazing and disturbed at the emphasis that it put on the "no internet, no tv" policy, but there is no policy on the "be good to others and be respectful to your parents" policy.
I've had this idea about speaking to the little girl's teacher about emphasizing derech eretz more than the parsha, but I don't think that this will go over well. Anyone have any thoughts about that? I would have, at one point, thought that my former parents would have truly pushed that concept, but no longer, since they don't seem to think that respect is a problem.
I'm disgusted with how the little girl speaks to me. She thinks that I'm her friend. I keep telling her how much I love her, and that I will never, ever be her friend. I'm her mother. I don't want to be her friend. Different concept for her, and one that she's not quite accustomed to. I love her, I always will and nothing that she will ever do will change that. I've also begun to explain to her the why and how of this divorce.
She asked me why I don't speak with my mother and father anymore. She's almost 10 ka'h and I am going to eventually have to explain it to her. I can't seem to push it off any longer, so, I sat her down and had a somewhat frank conversation with her; explaining how I always tell her that no matter what she does I will always love her.. and how my parents did not tell me that.
I know that the conversation made her uncomfortable, and that at some point she is going to go back to M and tell her that I said it. But the truth is there and it cannot be denied. My father had said several times that unless I continue with therapy, his heart would be hardened to me (even though it turned out that I wasn't the issue), and my mother had told me at one time in my life not to come home), so there it is. Out there in the open. No matter what my children do, no matter what they become, no matter who they become, I will always love them.
I liken being a parent to flying a kite. At some point the string can get quite long, but as a parent, you can always know that you've got hold of that string. My parents cut the string. I never will.
Interesting that I still call you "the family", since I really don't consider you family anymore? I don't know what else to call you.
I've been doing so much reading on bullying and people, especially women, who go off the derech because of the high pressures put on them from the "frum" world. I find it especially disturbing how many women are mistreated because of the erroneous and misleading words that people find in Torah.
In other words... people mistreat others, and use Torah (or the bible, or whatever religious doctrine one wants to use) as a way to justify bad behavior.
I should just make that my mantra.
It's sad really. As the past month has gone by, I've seen several tragic events occur, and the one thing that I can't get out of my mind is the concept that people seem to do for show. They will give to others for show, they will do for others for show, they will make things for others for show, they will pay condolence calls for show.. but when it comes to doing something for another, quietly, without fanfare, they don't want to.
Why is that? Why is the concept of doing just for the sake of doing such a difficult one? And then, the question of course leads to that of modesty. Why does the idea of modesty fall on the woman. Is the man not required to be modest as well?
I've been filling out the necessary paperwork for the kids to go back to school in the fall, and I'm amazing and disturbed at the emphasis that it put on the "no internet, no tv" policy, but there is no policy on the "be good to others and be respectful to your parents" policy.
I've had this idea about speaking to the little girl's teacher about emphasizing derech eretz more than the parsha, but I don't think that this will go over well. Anyone have any thoughts about that? I would have, at one point, thought that my former parents would have truly pushed that concept, but no longer, since they don't seem to think that respect is a problem.
I'm disgusted with how the little girl speaks to me. She thinks that I'm her friend. I keep telling her how much I love her, and that I will never, ever be her friend. I'm her mother. I don't want to be her friend. Different concept for her, and one that she's not quite accustomed to. I love her, I always will and nothing that she will ever do will change that. I've also begun to explain to her the why and how of this divorce.
She asked me why I don't speak with my mother and father anymore. She's almost 10 ka'h and I am going to eventually have to explain it to her. I can't seem to push it off any longer, so, I sat her down and had a somewhat frank conversation with her; explaining how I always tell her that no matter what she does I will always love her.. and how my parents did not tell me that.
I know that the conversation made her uncomfortable, and that at some point she is going to go back to M and tell her that I said it. But the truth is there and it cannot be denied. My father had said several times that unless I continue with therapy, his heart would be hardened to me (even though it turned out that I wasn't the issue), and my mother had told me at one time in my life not to come home), so there it is. Out there in the open. No matter what my children do, no matter what they become, no matter who they become, I will always love them.
I liken being a parent to flying a kite. At some point the string can get quite long, but as a parent, you can always know that you've got hold of that string. My parents cut the string. I never will.
Monday
July 25, 2011
G1,
Ok, let's review you moron:
Water bottle in 100 degree heat: VERY IMPORTANT
Bathing suit in 100 degree heat: NOT SO IMPORTANT.
Idiot.
You seriously need a keeper... or a lobotomy.
Ok, let's review you moron:
Water bottle in 100 degree heat: VERY IMPORTANT
Bathing suit in 100 degree heat: NOT SO IMPORTANT.
Idiot.
You seriously need a keeper... or a lobotomy.
Friday
Are you Serious? Really?
Dear G1,
A water bottle? really? you can't get your own daughter a water bottle?
This morning, you called me, after I'd been at work for an hour and a half, and the children were in your custody, that you didn't have the little girl's water bottle. So buy her another one! If you are her father, it is your responsibility to make sure that your children have basic safety needs. Like WATER.
You throw money at her, in spite of the fact that you don't pay your child support the way you are supposed to. You buy her clothing and gifts, and take her out to eat and give her whatever she wants and neglect the little boy to the point where he is acting out because he knows that you don't love him the same! But you cannot get your fat lazy tuchas to the store and buy your daughter a new bottle of water when the temperature is going to be over 100 degrees? Are you kidding?
Stop going out to eat you fat pig! Then, maybe you would have a dollar to buy your daughter a bottle of water! Maybe, just maybe, if you weren't so damn incompetent as a human being, you would have realized by now that you are a lousy parent.
You had the sheer, absolute nerve to call me at work, to tell me that you couldn't get her a bottle of water. What exactly, did you expect me to do about that? Tell me!!???
You are so close to A and R and C and S. Ask them to pay for the little girl's bottle of water. They seem to pay for everything else!
It's obvious that they are making all your other decisions for you, and answering your emails and running your life!
A water bottle. Seriously?
A water bottle? really? you can't get your own daughter a water bottle?
This morning, you called me, after I'd been at work for an hour and a half, and the children were in your custody, that you didn't have the little girl's water bottle. So buy her another one! If you are her father, it is your responsibility to make sure that your children have basic safety needs. Like WATER.
You throw money at her, in spite of the fact that you don't pay your child support the way you are supposed to. You buy her clothing and gifts, and take her out to eat and give her whatever she wants and neglect the little boy to the point where he is acting out because he knows that you don't love him the same! But you cannot get your fat lazy tuchas to the store and buy your daughter a new bottle of water when the temperature is going to be over 100 degrees? Are you kidding?
Stop going out to eat you fat pig! Then, maybe you would have a dollar to buy your daughter a bottle of water! Maybe, just maybe, if you weren't so damn incompetent as a human being, you would have realized by now that you are a lousy parent.
You had the sheer, absolute nerve to call me at work, to tell me that you couldn't get her a bottle of water. What exactly, did you expect me to do about that? Tell me!!???
You are so close to A and R and C and S. Ask them to pay for the little girl's bottle of water. They seem to pay for everything else!
It's obvious that they are making all your other decisions for you, and answering your emails and running your life!
A water bottle. Seriously?
Thursday
Dear Boat,
Dear Boat...
I know that you're going to hate this...
But sometimes, I feel like a mistake. I know that you think I'm not. But that's not going to change for some time. It's something that's ingrained.
You are probably one of a very few that hasn't made me feel that way...
Can I keep you? Even for a short while?
I know that you're going to hate this...
But sometimes, I feel like a mistake. I know that you think I'm not. But that's not going to change for some time. It's something that's ingrained.
You are probably one of a very few that hasn't made me feel that way...
Can I keep you? Even for a short while?
Tuesday
Dear Sarah,
Sarah:
There are two family members that I will refer to by name in this blog. You are one of them.
The first time I got engaged, I wanted to break the engagement. You told me I couldn't because it would be breaking a committment, and that it wasn't a good thing to do, to break committments. I remember thinking then that was the stupidest comment I'd ever heard you make. I was wrong. And considering some of the absolute crap that's flown from your mouth over the years, having one thing be more stupid than another is truly an achievement.
I remember the day I was told to be prepared to lose every friend I had. You however, were never a friend, then again, I never considered you family either.
To be honest, I wasn't sure that I really had any friends left to lose! But, I was wrong. I still had friends, well, I guess they were friends in their own eyes, but they weren't truly my friends, since they were so fast to walk away when things became difficult to me.
I'm reading this amazing book by Fara Margolese called "Off the Derech", where she discusses the potential reasons for so many observant Jews going off the derech (path). She posits that the potential reasonings is perhaps the concept of the bigger the jew one wants to be, the more one has to reject and be nastier to another.
I found that out first hand. *I* cannot be exposed to my "friend's" children. It matters little that I was the victim... as long as I pretend that all is fine, and that I dress like everyone else, act like everyone else, and behave like a good, suppressed "little woman", I can have all the friends I want. But, soon as I start to show my vibrancy and light, bye bye friends!
I can't wait to see what happens when PMS and basic human sexuality hits these homes. If fairly simple questions like "why would a "frum" woman dress like that?" sends some of my "friends" into a tizzy to the point where they won't look at me or even speak to me in public.. I cannot imagine the "mommy, where do babies come from?" question doing!
The funniest thing, well, perhaps not funny, sad even more? Is that compared to some of the frummest of the frum in Lakewood Eir Hakodesh, New Jersey, dress far less modestly than I do! My clothing are not so tight that it's obvious whether or not I'm wearing a bra! And, in spite of the ludicris, obnoxious, and frankly none of their damn business nature of the question as to whether or not I wear a wig, I DO cover my hair, ALL of it. Not one single, itty bitty strand shows. Not one. Primarly, because I have thyroid disease, and so I haven't got any hair!
Does that mean I'm more frum or less? I think that's a question I need to ponder...
But, because I don't wear stockings in the summer, and my shoes have heels that are very high.. and I always look put together, and frankly, I wear less makeup than Barnum and Bailey... *I* am different.
I am proud of who I am. Maybe that is why I am your target, because you are ashamed of yourself.
I used to love getting those boxes full of your old makeup. The used eyeshadows, the half used lipsticks, the little perfumes that you did not like. Even fully grown, I looked forward to your emptying out your medicine and makeup cabinets every year so that I would get a small token of whatever junk you had for me...
I was pathetic.. holding out for a little symbol of your attention...
I lived across the street from you for four years, and you came into my home one time. You ignored every single invitation to my home, though you went to my other family members for meals all the time. The only time I saw you come to my home, was the second shabbos after I was assaulted... when I was in hiding... and when you came snooping around for information.
Everyone knows you are a gossip... you just proved that fact to yourself. And when I wouldn't open the front door, because I wasn't home (I was actually at the neighbor's home), you went around to the back door, sneaking around in the wet grass, and knocking on the door that is never used, old and rusted..)
After shabbos, you sent me an email, with details, telling me how the first time you came the paper was out, and the second time the paper had been brought in. How the first time the storm door hadn't been locked and the second time it was, how you'd looked in the windows and the house didn't look empty... and how you just did not believe the things that I had said happened the day of the assault (in spite of the doctor's report, the police report, the witness report, and the pictures), and how you hoped that for my sake, and the sake of my beautiful children, I would "get the help I needed". Oh, and yes, I still have the copy of the emails you sent. I'm saving them for posterity.
By the way, I also have the email your husband sent me after our little meet and greet at the butcher store in May of this year. That was delightful.
Thanks for the advice. I'm taking it. I'm getting the help I need to stay away from you and the rest of your family. Feel free to take your own advice.
And there, by the grace of God, go I...
There are two family members that I will refer to by name in this blog. You are one of them.
The first time I got engaged, I wanted to break the engagement. You told me I couldn't because it would be breaking a committment, and that it wasn't a good thing to do, to break committments. I remember thinking then that was the stupidest comment I'd ever heard you make. I was wrong. And considering some of the absolute crap that's flown from your mouth over the years, having one thing be more stupid than another is truly an achievement.
I remember the day I was told to be prepared to lose every friend I had. You however, were never a friend, then again, I never considered you family either.
To be honest, I wasn't sure that I really had any friends left to lose! But, I was wrong. I still had friends, well, I guess they were friends in their own eyes, but they weren't truly my friends, since they were so fast to walk away when things became difficult to me.
I'm reading this amazing book by Fara Margolese called "Off the Derech", where she discusses the potential reasons for so many observant Jews going off the derech (path). She posits that the potential reasonings is perhaps the concept of the bigger the jew one wants to be, the more one has to reject and be nastier to another.
I found that out first hand. *I* cannot be exposed to my "friend's" children. It matters little that I was the victim... as long as I pretend that all is fine, and that I dress like everyone else, act like everyone else, and behave like a good, suppressed "little woman", I can have all the friends I want. But, soon as I start to show my vibrancy and light, bye bye friends!
I can't wait to see what happens when PMS and basic human sexuality hits these homes. If fairly simple questions like "why would a "frum" woman dress like that?" sends some of my "friends" into a tizzy to the point where they won't look at me or even speak to me in public.. I cannot imagine the "mommy, where do babies come from?" question doing!
The funniest thing, well, perhaps not funny, sad even more? Is that compared to some of the frummest of the frum in Lakewood Eir Hakodesh, New Jersey, dress far less modestly than I do! My clothing are not so tight that it's obvious whether or not I'm wearing a bra! And, in spite of the ludicris, obnoxious, and frankly none of their damn business nature of the question as to whether or not I wear a wig, I DO cover my hair, ALL of it. Not one single, itty bitty strand shows. Not one. Primarly, because I have thyroid disease, and so I haven't got any hair!
Does that mean I'm more frum or less? I think that's a question I need to ponder...
But, because I don't wear stockings in the summer, and my shoes have heels that are very high.. and I always look put together, and frankly, I wear less makeup than Barnum and Bailey... *I* am different.
I am proud of who I am. Maybe that is why I am your target, because you are ashamed of yourself.
I used to love getting those boxes full of your old makeup. The used eyeshadows, the half used lipsticks, the little perfumes that you did not like. Even fully grown, I looked forward to your emptying out your medicine and makeup cabinets every year so that I would get a small token of whatever junk you had for me...
I was pathetic.. holding out for a little symbol of your attention...
I lived across the street from you for four years, and you came into my home one time. You ignored every single invitation to my home, though you went to my other family members for meals all the time. The only time I saw you come to my home, was the second shabbos after I was assaulted... when I was in hiding... and when you came snooping around for information.
Everyone knows you are a gossip... you just proved that fact to yourself. And when I wouldn't open the front door, because I wasn't home (I was actually at the neighbor's home), you went around to the back door, sneaking around in the wet grass, and knocking on the door that is never used, old and rusted..)
After shabbos, you sent me an email, with details, telling me how the first time you came the paper was out, and the second time the paper had been brought in. How the first time the storm door hadn't been locked and the second time it was, how you'd looked in the windows and the house didn't look empty... and how you just did not believe the things that I had said happened the day of the assault (in spite of the doctor's report, the police report, the witness report, and the pictures), and how you hoped that for my sake, and the sake of my beautiful children, I would "get the help I needed". Oh, and yes, I still have the copy of the emails you sent. I'm saving them for posterity.
By the way, I also have the email your husband sent me after our little meet and greet at the butcher store in May of this year. That was delightful.
Thanks for the advice. I'm taking it. I'm getting the help I need to stay away from you and the rest of your family. Feel free to take your own advice.
And there, by the grace of God, go I...
Friday
Mirror Mirror on the Wall...
I am just like you. Your mirror image. Perhaps that is why you hate me... because you hate yourself?
It has been almost a year. And still, you hate.
I am your child.
You walked away from me, as you always said you would.
I tell myself that you are dead to me. But you are still with me, a pain that aches deep inside of my heart.
I'm so tired of being abused..I'm so tired of having all my childhood fears being suppressed
If you have to leave, I wish you would just leave my heart... within me, your presence still lingers
These wounds won't seem to heal, and the pain the pain is still too real. There is too much that time cannot erase. As your daughter, I held your hand, a small reminder that you would never let go. But you did. Rejection in its finest form. I did not go off the derech until you pushed me. And had you not pushed me, you'd still have all of me
Such a "daddy's girl". I was captivated by you. You were my hero. And now I feel like a remnant. A poltergeist, bound to this earth by you, and the light that you've left within me. I don't sleep because you haunts my dreams.
It has been almost a year. And still, you hate.
I am your child.
You walked away from me, as you always said you would.
I tell myself that you are dead to me. But you are still with me, a pain that aches deep inside of my heart.
I'm so tired of being abused..I'm so tired of having all my childhood fears being suppressed
If you have to leave, I wish you would just leave my heart... within me, your presence still lingers
These wounds won't seem to heal, and the pain the pain is still too real. There is too much that time cannot erase. As your daughter, I held your hand, a small reminder that you would never let go. But you did. Rejection in its finest form. I did not go off the derech until you pushed me. And had you not pushed me, you'd still have all of me
Such a "daddy's girl". I was captivated by you. You were my hero. And now I feel like a remnant. A poltergeist, bound to this earth by you, and the light that you've left within me. I don't sleep because you haunts my dreams.
Thursday
An Open Letter to Leiby Kletzky A"H
You were never related to me by blood... well, I guess because you are a Jew, we are both from the same family, and so technically, we are related. There is a place for you here, in this creation of mine.
I did not know that you had gone missing, so I did not pray for you, but in your family, you became the center of the world. In this country, all over the world, you became a centerpiece. People davened for your safe return, they cried tears of mercy to God above that you should return safe, and unharmed, and yet, your mother, she should find some peace, probably knew in her heart, that you would not return, and she probably knew that you were gone from her, never to hold again in her arms, never again to hear your voice.
Mine once told me not to come home.
What angers me, more than what happened to you, and more than the senseless tragedy behind it all, is the outpouring of grief.. because it seems so insincere. People that have, without thought, without conscience thrown me, and those like me to the curb, are crying out your name, as though you could help them now (are you the messiah now?), and truthfully, you could have ended up just like me one day... because as a child, I was just like you.
Perhaps not perfect, obviously not male... but I was someone's child. There were times I got lost too, and had to ask strangers for directions...
Maybe that's what I am now. Lost. I asked for directions and got pushed out of the car. No one cries for me. No one davens for me. No one collects money for me, or asks where I am, or goes onto Facebook and laments about how God could have done such a thing, and what a monster the man who did this to me is. And I am still suffering on this earthly plane of existence...
There are more of me out there, than there are of you...
I am so sorry for what your family has to go through, and as a mother, I feel such pain for yours. I am so thankful for what I am, and for what I have, and I greet every morning with a blessing of gratitude that I do have what I do... but I am also so sad that there are those that eat at the religion buffet; to pick and choose how righteous they wish to be, how respectful and to whom.. how nice, and when.. and when God should be taken out of the convienient little backpack they carry with them.
How self righteous I sound... I need to get off my soapbox.. it is eating me alive.. and it is not healthy. Perhaps this too, is one of the reasons I am lost. And perhaps, again, why I am choosing not to be found.
I don't want to end up in small pieces of myself. Staying here, might endanger my sense of self, of who I am, my soul, and I could end up in pieces, rather than a whole of myself. Staying on this soapbox makes me feel like one of "them"...
I did not know that you had gone missing, so I did not pray for you, but in your family, you became the center of the world. In this country, all over the world, you became a centerpiece. People davened for your safe return, they cried tears of mercy to God above that you should return safe, and unharmed, and yet, your mother, she should find some peace, probably knew in her heart, that you would not return, and she probably knew that you were gone from her, never to hold again in her arms, never again to hear your voice.
Mine once told me not to come home.
What angers me, more than what happened to you, and more than the senseless tragedy behind it all, is the outpouring of grief.. because it seems so insincere. People that have, without thought, without conscience thrown me, and those like me to the curb, are crying out your name, as though you could help them now (are you the messiah now?), and truthfully, you could have ended up just like me one day... because as a child, I was just like you.
Perhaps not perfect, obviously not male... but I was someone's child. There were times I got lost too, and had to ask strangers for directions...
Maybe that's what I am now. Lost. I asked for directions and got pushed out of the car. No one cries for me. No one davens for me. No one collects money for me, or asks where I am, or goes onto Facebook and laments about how God could have done such a thing, and what a monster the man who did this to me is. And I am still suffering on this earthly plane of existence...
There are more of me out there, than there are of you...
I am so sorry for what your family has to go through, and as a mother, I feel such pain for yours. I am so thankful for what I am, and for what I have, and I greet every morning with a blessing of gratitude that I do have what I do... but I am also so sad that there are those that eat at the religion buffet; to pick and choose how righteous they wish to be, how respectful and to whom.. how nice, and when.. and when God should be taken out of the convienient little backpack they carry with them.
How self righteous I sound... I need to get off my soapbox.. it is eating me alive.. and it is not healthy. Perhaps this too, is one of the reasons I am lost. And perhaps, again, why I am choosing not to be found.
I don't want to end up in small pieces of myself. Staying here, might endanger my sense of self, of who I am, my soul, and I could end up in pieces, rather than a whole of myself. Staying on this soapbox makes me feel like one of "them"...
Wednesday
September 2010
September 17, 2010
Dear Mommy,
As a mother, I can understand how this might be a very hard letter for you to read, but today I decided to file for divorce. Well, perhaps "decided" isn't the best word to use, as I'd basically determined that filing for divorce was the only avenue for me to take. I knew I was living in a fishbowl (as one of the LOR {Local Orthodox Rabbi's} had put it) and this particular goldfish was looking green around the gills. I guess the family decided for me. Rejection is a powerful thing.
I can't understand why you don't love me. Maybe I just was never pretty enough, or good enough, or thin enough, or enough of an earth mother. I know that "R" is all of those things. She's damn near perfect. Maybe that's why you spend so much more time loving her. Maybe that's why "S" has his emotional affair with her... maybe in the end, that's why there is an end.
You want to know why I'm angry... there are so many reasons, I just don't know where to start. But, maybe the past 35 years is a good place.
I've been learning a lot about domestic abuse. Being who I am, where I've coming from and knowing where I am going, the concept of getting beaten up is not a new one. But, it doesn't happen to me. However, I had thought that it anyone was going to do it, they would at least apologize afterwards. Then again, I look at how Abba treats you, how Zaidy treated Bubby, and how basically the entire treats everyone who isn't part of the family, and I have one of those "duh" lightbulb moments. Yep, I get it. But, I still don't quite understand why I thought I would get an apology.
Nope, not here. No apology had come, at least, not a sincere one. The night of the assault he called after I'd told the uncle that I was expecting an apology (at the very least) and got a "canned" voice mail "i'm sorry" message. But that was it. I'm still counting my blessings that I have a witness, because without her, I am sure that my police report would have mysteriously "disappeared" into the annals of "somewhere". It's amazing how the frum community has the power to do nothing when they want to.
I did get some sort of "if you had called your father he would have had come up and broken every bone if your body" in therapy, but that was as close to a real honest apology as I got. So, divorce it was. I mean, who could continue to live like this? Maybe you could have, but I was going to be stronger than you, Mommy. And I am going to set a better example for my children, especially for my daughter.
Two years had gone by and we hadn't had sex. Did you know that? He had told me that he thought he could be gay. Gay!? In the frum community? You know who that would get blamed on; the wife of course. Something I must be doing wrong... You had told me that a year ago. You told me I was emasculating him, that by asking him to get a job, I was making him feel like less of a man, and that when *I* needed support, I wasn't going to get it.
And yet, do you know, that until he beat me up, I would have stayed? That's how little I thought of myself? That I would have stayed with that man, living with that misery, until I had died, withering away to nothing...under any circumstances. And the marriage counseling.. or the farce of the marriage counseling that we'd had, or rather, I had been blackmailed into by my brother? What a fiasco that was! Every single word I said, twisted, and then repeated to my family... and there was no way that anything I did or said at that point would have made me look good. So, I stayed silent, and you thought I was a drug addict, because it was easier for you to think that the wrong was with me, than with your perfect son in law, or your perfect daughter in law...
Why is the blame always with someone not of your blood? Does that mean that you might think that the bad blood is genetic? It's not you know.. it's not genetic.. it IS changeable. All you have to do is be willing to admit that there is a problem; and then change it. Exactly as I'm doing. Whether you like my choices or not, I'm finding that I'm finally, really quite comfortable with what I am going to do.
And, then, I found the blog... the divorcebusting.com blog. With your son in law's public "AOL" email address, describing, in detail, his perception of the past few months of our life, as skewed as it was. Humiliating to think that I had been working my behind off, two, something three jobs, taking care of the finances, the house, and barely myself, and he was sitting around blogging and "networking", instead of looking for work. And I know that it hasn't been easy. Yep.. I've been depressed... but then again, who wouldn't be. Gay??? Really?
So, again, divorce it was. But, it's not going to be pleasant. This much I know...
Here goes... take a deep breath.. and jump.. out of the fishbowl, and right into the mouth of the shark.
Next up.. Dear "R",
Dear Mommy,
As a mother, I can understand how this might be a very hard letter for you to read, but today I decided to file for divorce. Well, perhaps "decided" isn't the best word to use, as I'd basically determined that filing for divorce was the only avenue for me to take. I knew I was living in a fishbowl (as one of the LOR {Local Orthodox Rabbi's} had put it) and this particular goldfish was looking green around the gills. I guess the family decided for me. Rejection is a powerful thing.
I can't understand why you don't love me. Maybe I just was never pretty enough, or good enough, or thin enough, or enough of an earth mother. I know that "R" is all of those things. She's damn near perfect. Maybe that's why you spend so much more time loving her. Maybe that's why "S" has his emotional affair with her... maybe in the end, that's why there is an end.
You want to know why I'm angry... there are so many reasons, I just don't know where to start. But, maybe the past 35 years is a good place.
I've been learning a lot about domestic abuse. Being who I am, where I've coming from and knowing where I am going, the concept of getting beaten up is not a new one. But, it doesn't happen to me. However, I had thought that it anyone was going to do it, they would at least apologize afterwards. Then again, I look at how Abba treats you, how Zaidy treated Bubby, and how basically the entire treats everyone who isn't part of the family, and I have one of those "duh" lightbulb moments. Yep, I get it. But, I still don't quite understand why I thought I would get an apology.
Nope, not here. No apology had come, at least, not a sincere one. The night of the assault he called after I'd told the uncle that I was expecting an apology (at the very least) and got a "canned" voice mail "i'm sorry" message. But that was it. I'm still counting my blessings that I have a witness, because without her, I am sure that my police report would have mysteriously "disappeared" into the annals of "somewhere". It's amazing how the frum community has the power to do nothing when they want to.
I did get some sort of "if you had called your father he would have had come up and broken every bone if your body" in therapy, but that was as close to a real honest apology as I got. So, divorce it was. I mean, who could continue to live like this? Maybe you could have, but I was going to be stronger than you, Mommy. And I am going to set a better example for my children, especially for my daughter.
Two years had gone by and we hadn't had sex. Did you know that? He had told me that he thought he could be gay. Gay!? In the frum community? You know who that would get blamed on; the wife of course. Something I must be doing wrong... You had told me that a year ago. You told me I was emasculating him, that by asking him to get a job, I was making him feel like less of a man, and that when *I* needed support, I wasn't going to get it.
And yet, do you know, that until he beat me up, I would have stayed? That's how little I thought of myself? That I would have stayed with that man, living with that misery, until I had died, withering away to nothing...under any circumstances. And the marriage counseling.. or the farce of the marriage counseling that we'd had, or rather, I had been blackmailed into by my brother? What a fiasco that was! Every single word I said, twisted, and then repeated to my family... and there was no way that anything I did or said at that point would have made me look good. So, I stayed silent, and you thought I was a drug addict, because it was easier for you to think that the wrong was with me, than with your perfect son in law, or your perfect daughter in law...
Why is the blame always with someone not of your blood? Does that mean that you might think that the bad blood is genetic? It's not you know.. it's not genetic.. it IS changeable. All you have to do is be willing to admit that there is a problem; and then change it. Exactly as I'm doing. Whether you like my choices or not, I'm finding that I'm finally, really quite comfortable with what I am going to do.
And, then, I found the blog... the divorcebusting.com blog. With your son in law's public "AOL" email address, describing, in detail, his perception of the past few months of our life, as skewed as it was. Humiliating to think that I had been working my behind off, two, something three jobs, taking care of the finances, the house, and barely myself, and he was sitting around blogging and "networking", instead of looking for work. And I know that it hasn't been easy. Yep.. I've been depressed... but then again, who wouldn't be. Gay??? Really?
So, again, divorce it was. But, it's not going to be pleasant. This much I know...
Here goes... take a deep breath.. and jump.. out of the fishbowl, and right into the mouth of the shark.
Next up.. Dear "R",
Dear N,
July 6, 2011Dear N...
I hope that you have a beautiful shabbos and again I wanted to wish you once again a happy birthday.
I don't know when you'll hear from me again. I hope you'll feel comfortable keeping me informed about you and your family however. I hope the years are kind to you, and that you get a tremendous amount of nachas and brocha from your children.
Please do not anticipate hearing about me or my successes. What you may hear from my children or "S" is more than likely inaccurate. Know that I've met most of my goals. Now that my doctorate is just about done, I may begin law school...I may not. I would like to work with women in the frum community who have been abused and neglected both by their husbands, families and by the community as well.
You probably won't understand this; honestly, I've learned that whatever anyone has heard over the past few years has had the family spin put on it. Essentially, the initial decision to cease communication with me and certain members of the family was not mine, rather it was up to those individuals. The decision to continue with that decision however, very much is mine and I take ownership of it. At no point in any given time was I given any free or unfettered ability to discuss the "family" situation without censure or judgement, in spite of what you may or may not have heard, though opportunity was presented, I was shot down and not given a healthy, fair or unbiased opportunity to speak. And so I simply chose to say little or nothing. It was excessively easy, and still is, for members of the family to jump to judgement and assume that I was always in the wrong. I recognize that because I was silent, the opportunity to be nasty and hateful was there, and in part I made it easy to turn against me, but I remind you, that I was family.
Everyone in this world has choices that they have to make, and as I've stated several times over the past year, I've been content and satisfied with mine. I can look at myself in the mirror and know that I'm doing what is right in my heart, and for my children and myself. Consider this letter a good-bye of sorts. Something happened to my husband a few years ago. Though I've been forced to take blame for quite a bit, whatever caused this change, I will not take responsibility for. I did not have the opportunity to seek closure, to bury my husband, to say good-bye to the man that was my best friend, that I'd fallen so deeply in love with I couldn't imagine taking a breathe without him at my side. What made the hurt so much more, was that those that called themselves family disappeared as well, and then said it was because I had pulled away.
A nephew was born to me this year. I do not know his name, or what he looks like. I found out from an utter stranger that he was born/ and when the bris was. I have come to realize that I will never again be part of that family, and have decided that in acceptance, I truly do not wish to be part of that family.
But, I am going to offer to you, the one family member that showed enough respect to me, as a human being, as a creation of G-d, and as a sibling, family member, etc., I was never given: the opportunity to say good-bye. This divorce will come to a head in March, whether Steven continues to drag it (and my children) through court or not. One way or another, there will come a time when this is over, and when that time comes, I am going to continue to rebuild my life, as I have been doing, on my own, disavowing any knowledge of the family as they've so blithly done to me. I will raise my children to make open minded choices as best I can. Unlike those that raised me, I will fully accept and embrace my children for who they are; whatever their choices may be, and from those that raised me I have learned both how, and how not, to parent.
I attribute my ability to remain sane throughout this process in part to my excellent friends and loved ones. The other part I attribute to our parents. They raised me to be true to my convictions, to believe in myself even when no one else is, and to walk with pride. Like the mythical Phoenix, I am stronger because of this, I have walked through the fires of hell and have risen again reborn and more beautiful, but though I am no longer consumed by anger, I do not forgive.
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