Goodbye sweet mole

I called the Toad ‘that idiot man’ this morning.  Which is fine in itself but not fine when you do it in front of your son.  Which is what I did.  The usual excuses applied – I was irritated at the fact the Toad doesn’t return clothes or lunchboxes, we were in a rush for school and I was trying to get lunchboxes into an overly full bag and urging my son to bring them back from ‘that idiot man’.  My son’s face crumpled and he said, ‘That’s my daddy’.  I felt terrible.  I feel as if I have been led into the war of bad-mouthing having abstained steadfastly from joining in for years.  But my fuse is short and I feel under attack.  I let myself down and I let my boy down. It won’t happen again.  I don’t give two hoots about the Toad but I will never forget my son’s face when I called his father an idiot.  I apologised and explained that I didn’t mean it and we made up. 

On another note, I saw my son re-emerge last night from the Toad induced coma of silliness and rudeness.  It was lovely – until I spoilt it with the ‘idiot’ comment.  But, while it lasted, it was wonderful.  I am finding this constant backwards and forwards so hard.  The efforts to bring my boy back to normality is taking its toll even with my new approach.  The past two weeks have brought me to a new low.  I have felt drained and lacking in motivation.  It’s been tough.  Every fortnight the climax of my boy leaving and then a brief hiatus in mothering before it’s back to square one again.  After ten days his true self emerges like a shy mole sticking its snout out of its burrow.  We get so far and then it’s broken once again.  I get snatches of beauty before it’s gone. Over and over….  

Steps back to Zen

It’s been a few days since I last wrote and surviving the Toad with my new zen-like approach has not been as straightforward as I hoped.  Every day seems to bring up a raft of stuff despite stern words to myself to ‘get a grip’.  By stuff I mean feelings;  feelings of abandonment as I feel my son pull away from me and feelings of anger that the Toad is deliberately driving a wedge between my boy and me; feelings of grief for the past when my son felt safe to show his love for me; feelings of despair that I will be a prisoner in this country for many years to come and feelings of anxiety that I am buggering up my health with all these bloody emotions.  It has drained me of my usual joie de vivre and I’m dragging myself around not really achieving anything.  As soon as I feel I’m getting on top of all these feelings, another lawyer’s letter pops chirpily into my inbox.

“Toad wants this weekend instead of his usual weekend”

“Toad wants to extend the weekend to four days”

“Toad wants to move the court case forward”

You get the picture.  Every email brings on spurts of adrenalin which last for hours.  I used to be tougher than this.  I view myself as capable, logical, fun and a natural problem solver.  Now I am behaving like a shrinking, wet, weak victim/violet after six years in survivor mode.

It was different at the start as I always believed things would calm down.  That the weird stuff that Toad did such as smearing poo over the outside loo. breaking into my house every time I was out, stalking me, diverting my emails to his email address, trying to groom my friends and boyfriends, turning the neighbours against me with lies, appearing at my place in the middle of the night and shining a torch into the bedrooms, stealing, crying hysterically on my deck and so on would come to an end.   It took three years and then peace.  Blissful peace – well compared to the above it was very peaceful – as he had met someone else.  It took 18 months for him to get her under the thumb, impregnate her, access her money and then it all started up again.  This time he has wised up.  Smearing poo achieved nothing but the lawyers letters funded by the new partner is working.  He is forcing me to respond.  Now he’s fighting for full custody.  His reason for taking my boy far away from me?  There are none.  Clearly he’s going to lose but it’s a bit of a Trojan horse and he has other requests up his sleeve which are emerging.  And the pleasure of denying me my annual trip to see my family on the other side of the world is making this all worth while for him.  

In the face of that I have vowed to be zen.  To accept.  To submit.  Because the consequences of not doing so in terms of my health is not a good outcome for my son or myself.  In the meantime, I am considering attending my mum’s birthday party on my own – the first time I have not taken him to see my family.  The Toad has given me permission to take him out of the country for two weeks.  But can I put my son through four days of travel and a week of jet lag for ten days at home?  I don’t think I have the energy or strength to carry him through it and deal with the fall out.

Back to acceptance.  Steps as follows.

Step 1 is to write.  Tick.

Step 2 may have to be a return to Headspace, the meditation app for a daily dose of calm.  

Step 3…not sure yet.  Maybe that’s for the next blog.

Could I be approaching a mid-life light bulb moment?

Well, that wasn't too bad.  My boy arrived home, late of course, and I did not tut or roll eyes at the usual triggers.  He is several kilos heavier than when he left with huge black rings around his eyes but seems to have survived a week with Father Christmas (or should that be Father Toad) rather well.  This morning he was expanding like a blossoming flower, relieved to have some calmness, some space, a few boundaries and a bit of dancing to Bob Marley in the living room.  

Big sigh of relief.  I was thinking last night that this could be quite life changing for us both.  My new attitude of acceptance will mean less work in trying to 'fix' the problems that I perceive when he comes home such as rudeness, acting up and addiction to devices.  I always feel it’s my job to turn him around which involves lots of sticking to boundaries and time out.  It works but it takes about ten days to get my son back.  When I do get him back to his former self, its bliss.  We are so connected and affectionate.  It’s a tantrum free zone but it also fills me with a sense of loss. Life used to be like this all the time just over a year ago.  That was when Toad started his latest campaign.  He had an argument with my mother who complained about the way he would wind up my son before dropping him off, so that we got a very tearful and upset little boy.  Instead of the previous frequency of visits every five to seven weeks, it became every fortnight and that was when I saw the disturbing changes in behaviour and experienced less of the happy child I had taken for granted.  That is what has fuelled my frustration and need to try and fix the problem by sticking rigidly to boundaries.

My new acceptance of Toad’s influence will also will lessen the need to compete with Father Toad in the fun stakes.  During our last school holiday, we went biking or playing golf every day as well as numerous play dates.  I had the second week of the holidays so my boy (let’s call him Bob) had just spent ten days with Toad.  Bob was returned home unfit, pale and tired.  He moaned for the first few days which spoilt our enjoyment of some glorious days in the country. It meant I felt stressed and irritated instead of happy in the company of my darling.  

Note to self: don't try and compete in the fun stakes.  Life here on the farm is what it is, and by most people's standards, it would be pretty idyllic for most kids.  Let nipper chill out before introducing too many activities.

Perhaps this reduction of exhausting micro-managing could extend to my grown up relationships?  I did have a small spat with my boyfriend the other day and I made a decision then, to stop 'fixing' our relationship. I've realised that I take the role of relationship controller aka Mother and I'm tired of it.  I spent the weekend on my own for the first time in yonks and it was heaven.  So relaxing.  I forgot how easy I am to look after (I eat left-overs for days and am quite happy pottering around, knitting and taking the dogs for a bike ride).  I am low maintenance but have created a high maintenance existence.  

I should probably mention that I do run an all-consuming business after Toad left me high and dry having spent every last penny I had.  I have had to start from scratch in building up my business and it has taken its toll on my health due to stress.  I always feel that I am not doing my best in either my business or as a mum as the juggling of balls means I am always in a rush.  It’s a horrible way to live. 

Gosh, it could be one of those mid-life light bulb moments instead of mid-life crisis moments.  Am I sounding too zen.  Give me a few days and I’m sure you’ll see the steam escaping from my ears.

Keeping a Lid On It!

Today was a good day.  Today I realised that I need to try and let go.  Okay, easier said than done.  Totally get that.  So how can you becoming accepting when you are in the middle of a proverbial  bare knuckle fight against a Toad, a fight that will drag me down and threatens to destroy my wellbeing?  Just to explain, the Toad is my ex.  I chose a man I thought was a Prince and once all the fun stuff like the kissing and making a baby was complete, he turned into a Toad.  I caught him with his pants down (literally) with a very young woman.  Our son had just turned one.   

In hindsight I think he was always a Toad but disguised it well.  I caught him out in the odd lie and he had cheated on his previous girlfriend.  Stupid me, not seeing the writing on the wall.  Since the split many, many people have come forward to suggest that aforementioned  Toad-like behaviour was ongoing throughout the relationship.  In fact, it seems that the Toad had certainly been busy while I was traipsing into work while he stayed at home supposedly working on our business.  But that’s the past.  The question is how to share your much adored child with a Toad even if said Toad is not living in the same house.

The Toad and I are in a Family Court situation.  We went to court this week and he told a lot of lies.  He gained more access and it felt like a fait accompli before the session had even started.  The judges in this country are very pro-father and don’t ask too many questions.  They don’t dig deep. I need the Toad’s permission to take my child abroad which gives him a great deal of power over when and if, I visit my family in my home country.  It’s my mum’s Big Birthday with Big Party and Celebrations and I have come to the realisation today, that I may not be able to take my boy. We live a long way away from where I was brought up and every year my son and I have carried out the pilgrimage of two days in a plane to spend six weeks with family and friends.  It has been my saving grace; it has rescued me from the madness of feeling trapped in a country for the foreseeable future; it has felt so good to feel nurtured, supported, believed and loved before coming back to the abusive and bullying Toad.  Last year, the Toad limited us to four weeks.  This year he is allowing us to go for two weeks.  That includes four days travel and one week of jet lag.

So you’re probably wondering what the point is of writing this blog.  It is to help me accept the injustice of seeing my child slowly dismantled and destroyed by the Toad and his utterly crap parenting, his vengeful and bullying ways, his narcissistic and manipulative behaviour, and my anger at all of the above because if I do not start accepting the reality of my situation I will truly go off my rocker.   

I am an optimist by nature and I write in the hope that I can, perhaps with your help, learn to LET IT GO!  Accept, swallow the anger and fear, and support my son as best I can while retaining my sanity.  Up until today, I have been fighting the Toad, but I think the time has come to accept that I cannot change this.  Yes, it sucks, but there it is. 

My son comes back in an hour after nine days with The Toad.  Note to self:  Do Not Get Knickers in Twist.  Chill.  Be Cool.  Until tomorrow then.