Strength

I thought I was getting better, stronger. It’s been six and a half months since my ex left the house. My program to be an Educational Assistant is almost complete, all I have left is a one month practicum. Then I can re-enter the workforce after being a stay at home mom for 12 years. I was beginning to feel capable. I was going to be ok.

There are still so many unknowns in my life. I don’t know yet if my ex is going to be successful in his goal of forcing the kids and I to move. If we do have to sell our home, we will be moving somewhere new where we don’t know a soul and can have a fresh start. I can’t bear the thought of living in a basement suite just so we can still live in the city. I can leave the shame behind, I will no longer have to look people in the eye who witnessed me being sworn and yelled at outside our home. I won’t have to have small talk with the neighbours that witnessed me crying outside because I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me upset. Those thoughts are the silver linings I remind myself of when losing the home I love is forefront in my mind.

I recently found out that the protection order I have against him is only valid by law enforcement if he threatens me physically or shows up at my door. The texts and emails that comprise of verbal abuse in the form of continuous name calling, swearing and attacks on my character are a “family court” issue and something I have to put up with. The police have spoken to my ex several times and told him to stop but it doesn’t work. I was told that if I didn’t have children with him they would arrest him because then it would be viewed as criminal harassment. My son is nine so it looks like I will be subjected to it for the next nine years. A permanent record of how he views me will be kept until my son is eighteen.

I tell my classmates that I can’t feel anger towards anyone, even my ex. This is probably because I still blame myself for my mistreatment. I know that the thirty extra pounds I wear are a shield to protect me from another man. It’s a sign to the world to ignore me, look somewhere else. I have never pursued or even chosen a relationship. If someone showed interest in me, I was grateful because I didn’t feel worthy of it.

I was feeling proud of my academic accomplishments and how I pulled it together while having the children one hundred percent of the time and having no financial support from my ex. I was excited that tomorrow is my last day at school and in one month I can start working.

Then the email came. The email from the family counsellor who informed me that she wants all four of us in for a session this Saturday. I immediately started shaking, my heart rate increased, my adrenalin shot up and I started crying. My ex has only seen the counsellor twice but he can turn on the charm and appear like he is capable of change, accommodation. He looks like a nice guy. He’s the victim, I am the perpetrator. He is misunderstood, he wants what’s best for the children.

The same man who went to Las Vegas for fun and is paying five hundred dollars more in his rent than our mortgage is. The same man who refuses to give me financial support for the past six months and berated me for going to enforcement to try to collect the child support. The same person who hid two hundred thousand dollars from me and claims he is too broke to afford a lawyer. Who can’t stop verbally abusing me in texts and emails and doesn’t care that it becomes part of our court record. The man who puts me down when he has visits with the children, so when they come home they mimic his behaviour. She wants me in a room with that man.

I immediately sent her an email saying that I am not strong enough, not ready, not capable. She phoned and told me that I don’t have to go into the room with him but I don’t want to even get a glimpse of his face at her office. I explained that even seeing his truck sends me into nightmares and I lie awake thinking of all the things that he has done to me. I thought I was strong but I am not. I hope to be one day.