It's been dramatic.
I had my first appointment on Monday. I spent 1.75 hours talking to our case worker about my situation, and about the history of my relationship with DH, and his with the boys, since our separation.
That's 10 years of gunk. Held-in, honest, embarrassing gunk. It was horrendous.
The case worker "can't" tell me what DH wants from this mediation (and ultimate court) process.
DH's confidentiality is key, and therefore I have no real grasp upon whether he's fighting me to dissolve or remove his huge child support (and spousal maintenance) debt to me, or whether, as he has threatened, he is trying to take legal control of the boys away from me.
I held it together for most of the appointment. There were a couple of times when I cried, usually from horrendous memories (I was referring to diary notes), and only once from frustration.
The case worker was pretty good. He is a timid young guy.... probably regretting his career choice.... who expressed great concern about some of the events that I recounted to him.
I decided that to make the most of this process, I needed to be completely honest with him. Honest about past events as well as about my feelings about the inequity in this current process. Oh hell, I expressed my frustration with the whole bloody system! But I was rational about it. And kind. After all, it's not his fault.
The kindness of friends is SO important. My friend J insisted upon giving me a neutral place to unwind afterwards. A kindness which allowed me to process and rant in order to not take this crap home to my kids, and then on to my friend in hospital.
And then today I attended a mandatory seminar called "Kids in Focus", designed to alert newly separated parents to the dangers of not putting their
childrens' needs first in the morass of pain that follows separation.
*
grrrrrrrrr*
In our small group, there was a woman who had been separated for 2 months, and a few others who had been separated for everything from 1 to 5 years. I was the only one 10 years "out".
That poor poor poor woman. By the end of it, she actually said that she was thinking that she should stay in her AWFUL marriage in order to protect her daughters from the horrors that she now "knew" would follow. It was totally
inappropriate for her to be a part of that group. I was sitting there in silent tears and fury, another woman was using it as a forum to unload 5 years of pent up frustration, and another was terrified of the controlling behaviour of her ex, who was also using the system to his advantage.
And, worse for me of all, were two men. Two men (and I am SO NOT ANTI-MEN) who agreed with every single thing spoken about.... as being awful things that their
ex's did. Two men who were not introspective enough to take any responsibility for any of their actions prior to, during and after their separations.
In other words, two men who reminded me terrifyingly of DH.
And, in my humble opinion, they were agreeing because the seminar was designed to elicit emotion and guilt, which only worked upon the women present.
(Wolfie, you've done this seminar. Jump in and tell me what you thought, if you'd like)I had to leave the room at one point, when one of the men insisted that the fact that he had reduced his child support from $245 a week to $65 a week (as per his new child support assessment) had nothing to do with his
ex's new partner taking a higher level of involvement in the child's life. I've simplified this, obviously, but the relevant (and recurring) theme was that child support was not relevant to resentment and shared parenting relationships.
Am I blindly seeing a relationship that isn't there?
I was SO upset and incensed at the end that I walked the city streets trying to calm down and shake myself of my upset before I moved on to the rest of my day.
And, again, J stepped in. She picked me up and gave me time to vent and cry and talk before facing my kids. Priceless.
And I did. I went home, hung with my peeps, went to visit my friend at the hospital (I was really concerned about walking in there stressed and upset) and came home to relax.
And then (is anyone counting the number of paragraphs beginning with "and" here?) I received a telephone call from my case worker.
Telling me that, because of the things that I had told him, he was legally obligated to inform DOCS (Department of Community Services) about DH as his behaviour has constituted child abuse.
Holy (
insert appropriate expletive here)!
This is a step that I didn't predict.
He told me that he strongly recommended that I telephone them as well to lodge my own complaint (in order, I suppose, to prevent accusations of neglect upon my self) but I am not going to do that. Whenever there has been unsafe behaviour from DH, I have consulted a child and family psychiatrist, and on one occasion I took them to a child and family psychologist in order to ensure that they were coping and secure. They were said to be coping well, BECAUSE of my strong, loving and constant presence.
I do not think that I have ignored or underestimated
DH's actions. I have just never had anyone take them this seriously before.
I have warned DH. I did this because he is having the boys to stay next week, and I know that if he received a telephone call from DOCS during that time, he will be FURIOUS and will, at the least, take it out on the boys. He told me that "That's okay. I'll deal with DOCS." in his frustratingly cocky manner. (That man honestly believes that he can charm a statue.)
So.....
... unless DH can charm the DOCS social worker (not an outlandish thought.... he charmed one of our Child Support case workers once) this will work in favour of the best interests of the boys AT LEAST because it will insure that he won't get legal
responsibility for them. But....... it could
also irreparably damage their future relationship with him.
I know I keep ranting on about how important that is, but that's just how I am. I'm not happy with this escalation, but I'm not falling apart about it either. I'm just fastening my seat belt and preparing for the bumpy ride ahead.
On a lighter note, "she" is feeling a bit better. Nowhere near "going-home" better, but a little bit better than the last couple of days. Which fills my heart with relief and gladness.
Thanks to all friends who are calling and caring. I can't talk a whole lot about it because I get emotional and then need time to "pull myself together" for my boys. I guess that's why I'm putting it all out here.
Talk about blog as therapy!