Upside Downside
After the evaluation, Stoic sat down with me in the garden of the rehab center and told me he wanted me out of the house in four months and that he was giving his Power of Attorney to his sister, but he didn't know when. Come to find out he had been to an attorney's office the Friday before with both his mother and his sister. So actually, he DID know, he was just lying. I remember looking down at the bricks paving the garden path. I didn't say anything at the time other than I understood why he felt the way he did. I looked up and asked him if he wanted me to bring anything the next time I came to visit, knowing I probably wouldn't be visiting anymore. I noted the heavy, cold mass growing in my belly and moving slowly up to the area just behind my breast bone. The adrenalin from the familiar, yet suddenly foreign, almost surprising realization that all THIS was really about to happen made the breath passing up my windpipe almost icy.
He stood up and then, I did, pushing my hair behind one ear, smiling softly and saying goodbye. I walked towards my SUV parked on the other side of the shiny, black ornate, wrought iron fence which surrounds the rehab center and down the brick path past flowers so brilliant I took note in spite of myself. It really was a beautiful, blue sky, white, fluffy clouds kind of a day-- another thought that seemed to have some nerve popping into my head at a time like this. Thoughts related to things like bright flowers, intricate patterns on a garden path or in the wrought iron surrounding us or even a beautiful sky blue day seemed almost gaudy next to all the other gray, black and taupe thoughts of strategy and attorneys and subterfuge. The dichotomy threatened to spill over into and out of my eyes. At the gate, I looked back at him and then, again at my truck. Each time he was standing very still except for one hand that was curling alternately tight and loose around his notebook. His face gave nothing more away than mine had and yet, everything was said and understood in those few moments as I walked away. It really was over.
The next day I went and filed for divorce. I had no choice. Trust is gone and in it's place, self preservation, on both of our parts. I felt like I failed to keep us focused on his recovery. I also felt sad that things had disintegrated so badly when we had been communicating so well. We messed up a lot of things in our marriage, but we had always been really good parents.
People with traumatic brain injuries have a window of time the first six months after injury when they will make the most gains. I didn't want to distract from that. I had hoped our good parental relationship would serve him well as he moved through this program of intensive rehab which only about 5% of TBI patients even have access to. Moreover, we were even MORE lucky where his healthcare is concerned because we qualified for a government program which paid for his entire stay there. At a couple thousand dollars a day, it would have been something far beyond our reach without the grant. I guess I was really hoping to safeguard this for him. He doesn't see that he has thirty more good years and that safeguarding that outcome is far more important than forcing a divorce right this minute much less an apparently, ugly divorce. The problem is he is worried more about getting out of rehab, thinks he is ready to raise four kids, getting his house back and exacting his pound of flesh for my no longer wanting to stay in the marriage whether I was with another man or not than staying focused on his recovery and believing that I would do no harm or take no advantage of the situation. He's hellbent on all of this regardless of the fact that during all these last few hard months I had done nothing of the sort.
I may not want to be married to him, but it doesn't mean I didn't want the best for him healthwise. I realize that in either situation, with someone else, or alone my answer to him asking me to stay was the same. I know how insulting that must have felt to him. I really do. I have also come to learn...albeit short school bus slowly, that I couldn't buy his comfort with lies or take the sting out of the truth. Finally, I know he thought because I was there, supportive and advocating, that I would stay, that our situation had changed. Things got bad between us this last month when he began to realize that this was not the case. Much I would also attribute to his family whispering in his ear. He is very prone to suggestion and because of his parietal area being so damaged his judgement, reasoning and impulse control are all affected.
On the downside, I am going to hope it is his injury that had him emptying my bank account on Friday and not just plain malice. Between he and his mother, who has begun to blatantly lie to create problems with the kids and to take things off of our property without telling me, to his father yelling at me for the first time in twenty three years, I know that this is not going to be very pretty these next few months. But, I'm trying to remember that this will all pass in a matter of months and then my life gets a renovation.
On the upside, the temporary orders will keep him from doing anything with our assets while we proceed with the divorce, place his mom and sister as his primary caretakers and make sure that I leave the marriage with my fair share of the assets.
On the upside, I have good friends and family and a wonderful man who are all helping me keep my head up. I'm grateful.
He stood up and then, I did, pushing my hair behind one ear, smiling softly and saying goodbye. I walked towards my SUV parked on the other side of the shiny, black ornate, wrought iron fence which surrounds the rehab center and down the brick path past flowers so brilliant I took note in spite of myself. It really was a beautiful, blue sky, white, fluffy clouds kind of a day-- another thought that seemed to have some nerve popping into my head at a time like this. Thoughts related to things like bright flowers, intricate patterns on a garden path or in the wrought iron surrounding us or even a beautiful sky blue day seemed almost gaudy next to all the other gray, black and taupe thoughts of strategy and attorneys and subterfuge. The dichotomy threatened to spill over into and out of my eyes. At the gate, I looked back at him and then, again at my truck. Each time he was standing very still except for one hand that was curling alternately tight and loose around his notebook. His face gave nothing more away than mine had and yet, everything was said and understood in those few moments as I walked away. It really was over.
The next day I went and filed for divorce. I had no choice. Trust is gone and in it's place, self preservation, on both of our parts. I felt like I failed to keep us focused on his recovery. I also felt sad that things had disintegrated so badly when we had been communicating so well. We messed up a lot of things in our marriage, but we had always been really good parents.
People with traumatic brain injuries have a window of time the first six months after injury when they will make the most gains. I didn't want to distract from that. I had hoped our good parental relationship would serve him well as he moved through this program of intensive rehab which only about 5% of TBI patients even have access to. Moreover, we were even MORE lucky where his healthcare is concerned because we qualified for a government program which paid for his entire stay there. At a couple thousand dollars a day, it would have been something far beyond our reach without the grant. I guess I was really hoping to safeguard this for him. He doesn't see that he has thirty more good years and that safeguarding that outcome is far more important than forcing a divorce right this minute much less an apparently, ugly divorce. The problem is he is worried more about getting out of rehab, thinks he is ready to raise four kids, getting his house back and exacting his pound of flesh for my no longer wanting to stay in the marriage whether I was with another man or not than staying focused on his recovery and believing that I would do no harm or take no advantage of the situation. He's hellbent on all of this regardless of the fact that during all these last few hard months I had done nothing of the sort.
I may not want to be married to him, but it doesn't mean I didn't want the best for him healthwise. I realize that in either situation, with someone else, or alone my answer to him asking me to stay was the same. I know how insulting that must have felt to him. I really do. I have also come to learn...albeit short school bus slowly, that I couldn't buy his comfort with lies or take the sting out of the truth. Finally, I know he thought because I was there, supportive and advocating, that I would stay, that our situation had changed. Things got bad between us this last month when he began to realize that this was not the case. Much I would also attribute to his family whispering in his ear. He is very prone to suggestion and because of his parietal area being so damaged his judgement, reasoning and impulse control are all affected.
On the downside, I am going to hope it is his injury that had him emptying my bank account on Friday and not just plain malice. Between he and his mother, who has begun to blatantly lie to create problems with the kids and to take things off of our property without telling me, to his father yelling at me for the first time in twenty three years, I know that this is not going to be very pretty these next few months. But, I'm trying to remember that this will all pass in a matter of months and then my life gets a renovation.
On the upside, the temporary orders will keep him from doing anything with our assets while we proceed with the divorce, place his mom and sister as his primary caretakers and make sure that I leave the marriage with my fair share of the assets.
On the upside, I have good friends and family and a wonderful man who are all helping me keep my head up. I'm grateful.
The shoe had to drop sometime, now or later. But I would have the attorney retrieve some of the money taken from the bank account. You are too sweet...if it were me, I would go into attack mode and bury that family in paperwork and court.
ReplyDeleteHe's acting exactly like a "jilted wife," and I'm not being sexist (much), just speaking from the experience of a couple of divorces. Rejection can make you mean, so you got that, but take care of yourself too. Its a balancing act because there are kids involved and you want to expose them to as little ugliness as possible. Hope, you really are a dude at heart. You have been approaching this whole thing exactly like one of us. It's usually the women who go at it no holds barred but here you are with almost the same mindset that I had. Not sure its good or bad, it just is...
ReplyDelete