Yesterday my attorney called to let me know the divorce had been finalized. She commented about my being able to go out and celebrate this weekend. It was a well-meant comment since I think she feels very sympathetic toward the problems I've been dealing with in the meantime. Still, even if I could afford a celebration (which I can't), nothing is further from my mind. It's just a necessary evil.
I married M. (may as well stop calling him D.H. now) for better or worse, in sickness and in health, until death would us part. I meant it. And even though it was all worse and all sickness, I still figured I'd wait for death. Until his sickness began infecting the kids in a very obvious way. Then I figured we would just stay separated. I wasn't interested in "freedom." I just didn't want him being able to hurt us any more, emotionally or financially.
When he revealed that he was seeing another young man, however, I began to feel that not getting a divorce would just be pointless. He wasn't letting a marriage certificate stop him from doing anything; and it took about five minutes of reflection with this new puzzle piece to realize that he never had. At least two very strange and abnormal friendships suddenly made sense, as did his constant efforts to keep me out of his social circle at the most ridiculous costs.
I do not write this to make anyone who walked away under less horrendous circumstances feel bad. Please don't take it that way. I see now that I should have left long before. All I'm saying is that I don't feel any sense of elation over the finalization. Just a renewed grief at the loss of my dreams, combined with relief at the knowledge that he can no longer prevent my new dreams.
I have changed a lot in the year since he's been away. One year tomorrow, in fact. It was on this day last year that I finally gained my parents' support in refusing to go home or leave him alone with the children, and at 2AM the next morning he finally agreed to go to the hospital. Only because I refused to have sex with him unless he went. I felt so guilty for lying to him by implying that I would later, knowing that I was not about to let him come home. But I had to get him to a professional somehow.
Now I make plans and decisions without fear, without knowing deep down that he will somehow sabotage them, without wondering how he will make me look bad in front of someone this time when I can't follow through because of his selfishness.
On Tuesday, he walked out in front of a car and was hit. He's been in the ICU most of the week, no apparent permanent injuries but a cracked skull nevertheless. He was meeting his stepdad to get a crowbar for a "side job" that day. I have no doubt whatsoever that the side job involved breaking and entering. Evidently God had other ideas. I did not want to go to the hospital. I feel he does not deserve to take up any more of my life, and I am already struggling to keep pace with school and the kids. But I went anyway, that first day. I decided it was important for the kids to know that I had gone. They haven't seen him for over a month now. When he's released from the ICU, I will take them to see him before he leaves the hospital. He can't do anything irrational there; or rather, we will be safer there if he does.
Whiz Kid has been deathly afraid of swimming. I promised him if he went swimming every day at summer camp, we could do something special this weekend. I had in mind taking them to a movie. He did go swimming every day. And he wants to save his prize until his dad is released, and meet him for dinner somewhere. I can't quite figure out how to tell him that the first thing Papa will want to do is go get high, and after that we can't see him.
Sign Language is going well. I'm loving it. It is taking far more time than I expected, however; so I dropped one of my fall courses because I will be taking the second level of ASL. I have realized I can't take three other courses, plus ASL, plus do Work Study, and still keep up with things at home.
I'm taking Introductory Psychology too. I love the material. I hate the professor. It's an online course and she can't communicate, has terrible grammar, gives incorrect information in the assignment descriptions, and assigned a group project. For an online course. I will make sure I never, ever take a course she is teaching again.
It was very vindicating to read, however, that studies have proven beyond any doubt that watching violence makes people more violent. Whether adult or child, violent crime or violent porn. All violence inspires more violence in its viewers. Despite the Supreme Court's refusal to ban the sale of violent games to children. Why are these statistics ignored? Why are we still talking about banning guns? Why are parents still letting their kids play and watch violence? Why, why, why?
I wish I could make a huge difference. So many things need changing. I guess I'll have to settle for the small difference, though. Starting with my own kids.