Tuesday, August 5, 2014

50 Shades of Awful

image credit
There's a policeman beside me and we sit and wait together, nervously  exchanging awkward jokes about the horrible decor and the over- heated room.
"They're probably heritage colours." I comment softly.
"Even that pink?" he asks scowling up at the cornices.
"Is it hot in here or is it just me?"
"No, it's really hot in here."

There's a man before the magistrate with a Friar Tuck hair-do, trying to fight a traffic ticket:
I mumble through my teeth; "how shiny is that guy's bald patch?"
He replies, "I was just thinking the same thing!"
I lean in and whisper, "Vaseline?"
Staring straight ahead he keeps a tight hold on his grin.

I'm sure he realises I need to relieve the tension, that I don't find anything about my situation today remotely funny. He plays along in good spirit; he's nice policeman.

Strangers in a courtroom, our turn:

He doesn't even look like my husband.
He looks strained, angry, hard.
My heart bleeds for him as he stands before the magistrate.
The magistrate commends his having treatment tells the courtroom 'it is a sign of strength"
He also acknowledges that the defendant's partner is in court in support of him- and I'm glad I came even though it's breaking my heart.
I'm glad I wrote a nice character letter that the prosecutor immediately submitted to the judge.
He said that would clinch the charges being dismissed.

I look at His back, the rigidity of his shoulders, slightly downward tilt of his head. His hands are together like they're held that way by invisible shackles. And the ringing in my ears gets so loud I can hardly hear what's being said.
There are conditions the magistrate has set about ongoing treatment: psychological counselling and the AVO is kept in place for 12 months.  I have mixed feelings about this only because I know it wont go down well. he'll blame me for that too although no one asked me. I didn't even know it was on the agenda.

After, outside the courtroom the nice handsome police officer smiles sadly and says, 'well that's all behind you now.'
'Yeah, if only..,' I say.
He offers me another of his sad resigned smiles, and I leave.  I wander around the city for a while, not wanting to go home. I think about calling my old boss for a coffee (maybe a job too) but I don't want to see anyone.
All the wind has gone out of my sails and I drift aimlessly towards the harbour. 

Tonight the email comes. After hours of worrying (it could only go one of two ways) it's the better outcome of the two. He blames me for all of this; "today was [for him]  the straw that broke the camel's back"; he wants to begin immediately on a formal separation and divorce. 

I am relieved - not only because this is something I no longer need to instigate (this week), but I worried today that the proceedings might trigger some realisation in him- that he has been and still is to a degree mentally unstable. That his illness has caused a chain of events that none of my many attempts at damage control have prevented the resulting irrevocable harm.

I thought that under the difficult circumstances of today he might become so despondent as to harm himself. It's a place in his head he's looked at and it's always been in there in the back of my mind.

He started with cliches: "it pains me to have to write this email..."
But this isn't a new idea. He started working on this long before everything went to hell. Long before he developed any tangible excuses; he tried a few on for size but he changed them often, like his jackets.

Now we have more blame piled on blame; well I can take blame- I've been spoon fed so much of it in recent months, I've gotten used to the taste.  And I don't know how I could have dealt with the other option: with Lilli... So it's a good outcome.

I watched a movie tonight and there was a conversation that seemed to be scripted from my own life;
She said:  "I called for help and look what good it did me"
He answered "you didn't do it for you"
He asked her then "why do you try so hard not to cry"
[ because she's afraid she won't be able to stop]
She said "it's not fair-I did the right thing-I know I did and it's not fair him shutting me out" 
She sighs and her shoulders sag "but there's nothing I can do anymore."

And there is nothing more I can do either.


  1. I am sorry to hear that things are so rough for you right now. Ending a relationship is never easy, no matter how bad things were xxx

    1. Thanks Jane, you're right about that- I've made a bit of a career at ended relationships- but I sure didn't see this coming.. Actually no-one did..

    2. Sorry: Janet -seems my eyesight is leaving me too :0/ xx

  2. What a horrible situation to be in, and for such a long time. I haven't been keeping up to date with all that has been going on, but it sounds like you've had a horrific few months since I last read a post. Strength to you.

    1. Thanks Emily, always nice to hear from you, my blog is such a contrast to yours as in miserable versus funny. You always manage to put a smile on my dial :0)

  3. I'm sorry that things are so hard for you at the moment. Sending you love x

    1. Thank you Tegan
      It means so much to me x

  4. Sounds like you have done all you could do and have faced a hard day and come out the other side... Strength to you..

    1. Thanks Zita, support has come from some unexpected places, new friends, missing friends & here as well- the caring, live & support I receive daily is what keeps me sane. And of course my funny little girl & the big furry smoocher :0)

  5. Hoping things improve for you soon.

    1. thanks Hon, I wish they would but I dont see it happening for a while. I dont know what the answer is; he needs help, he's not getting it because he has everyone fooled, and in the meantime he just makes a mess of all of our lives.