Plan B

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I don't have one this time.

This past month, all of my old-fashion, tube TVs were carted off to the dumpster, replaced by Mike's high tech, HDTV flat-screens.

The headboard I rescued from the dumpster and the IKEA dresser I so diligently constructed? Those are gone too, replaced by a beautiful bedroom suite Mike had delivered to the apartment on Friday.

Due to my fear of abandonment (I fundamentally believe I am unworthy of love - unlovable - and that once anyone finds out "who I really am," they will reject me) and my overwhelming need to control everything in my environment (a fear-based survival technique I learned from growing up in alcohol-fueled, dysfunctional chaos), I always have a Plan B.

When I was 10, I kept track of grocery prices - figuring out how I could feed myself on $5/week just in case my dad finally kicked me out of the house for being less than perfect. I saved a portion of my allowance until I had $20 saved up for just such an emergency.

When I was 15, I used that $20 - plus Christmas money - to purchase a Greyhound bus ticket to Spokane, and to support myself for a few days while I worked on figuring out where I was going to live after it became clear it was no longer safe to live in my parent's home.

Plan B is critical.

Plan B is a "Get Out Of Jail FREE" card.

Plan B is self-preservation.

I always have a Plan B.

I don't have one this time.

And I feel terrifyingly out of control.

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One Step, Two Step, Red Step, Blue Step

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As husband and I move forward with our lives separately, I've been reflecting on my own grief process. Those 5 steps of grief? Damn if they don't apply to marriages that can't even be classified as 'happy-for-the-most-part!'

Doesn't it always start with denial? I was in this stage long before I ever moved out of husband's house. I continued to question whether the things that were happening in that relationship were 'normal' and 'deserved'. Maybe if I were thinner, prettier, made more money, was a better parent, the marriage would work? Maybe I was making a mountain out of a molehill? I got comfortable taking all of the blame for what was wrong - that was the only way I could justify having any control over making it right.

When I learned that husband's friends, family and co-workers still believed I was living in the house - that the marriage was just fine? That's when I realized just how creepy denial can be.

Then along came anger. I was stuck here for a good year, some might argue it was where I stayed so that I could continue playing the victim. *stomps feet* It wasn't fair! I had given everything financially and emotionally to this marriage, and he had not. I was making 1/3 of what husband earned, and trying to support both Cam and me on that amount, often frequenting the food bank when there was no money left for groceries. I was in such financial ruin that I had to file bankruptcy and yet he complained about covering the $30/month for insurance on my car. I was PISSED!

I was kind of hoping to skip over bargaining, but damn if I didn't land there too! For about 6 months I went on a bargaining binge. I started spending more time with husband - going out on 'dates' - stopping by the house to chit-chat. Maybe this could work if we just waited until Cam finished high school. It was Cam, and my relationship with Cam, that was the problem (Can you see the sarcasm dripping from those words?). Maybe if I found a better job, took off the weight I had regained, we could have the happily-ever-after I had dreamed of, right? Right???
Depression didn't want to be left out either. Depression has been a constant companion of mine for most of my life. Separating from husband brought depression within arms reach again, and once in a while it even decided to sit on my lap. At one point, my good buddy depression attempted to suffocate me, all but putting a plastic bag over my head and securing it with duct-tape. There have been some terribly dark times these past 27 months, and although I still have those dark times, they last only a day or 2 instead of a month or 2.

*sun breaks through the clouds and glitter falls from the sky and inspirational music is heard across the land* 

Ahhhh ... acceptance. Dreams are difficult for me to let go of, even when it becomes abundantly clear that the dream, in its current configuration, just wasn't meant to be. It took some pretty significant events (husband not acknowledging Cam at Christmas, nor on his 16th birthday - husband's refusal to help out (even a little bit) financially to make the Cavy safe for me and Cam to drive, yet spending $40K+ on a new car for himself) for me to realize that my dream was not his dream, and it never would be.

Accepting that - being okay with letting go of that one-sided dream with husband - has allowed me to focus on myself - to work on making myself the best "me" I can be.

It has also put me in a place where I can deal with dissolving the relationship in a businesslike fashion rather than getting all emotional about it, which is a very good thing as I'll be moving what's left of my and Cam's lives out of husband's house in the next 30 days.

Don't get me wrong, it's still a little sad, but the sadness is overshadowed by the knowledge that there will be (and are) good things in mine and Cam's lives again.

Who knew all that it would take to do that were 5 little steps?

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Blended Families in the Blender

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As many of you know, I have quite the blended family - Cam is my biological son from a previous relationship, D (14) is husband's biological daughter with his ex-wife (who we'll call XW), and T (21) is husband's legally adopted son (XW's biological son from a previous relationship). A flow chart might be helpful, don't you think? This weekend was typical of the blended family struggles, and amazingly, neither Cam nor I were factors in it!

D has been struggling in school this year. As is the case for most (all?) 14 year old girls, she is a mess. Her social life has taken priority over everything else. Most recently, she took XW's 35mm camera to school to use in her photography class and lost it. She has no clue where she last saw it, nor does she seem to feel any urgency to find it. Her response? "Just chill. Give it a few days and it will turn up."

This happened on Thursday. XW decides punishment is in order and grounds her to her room for a week. The problem? This punishment falls over our visitation weekend. XW demands that D be confined to her room here - that we enforce XW's punishment. Hmmmm ... maybe a bit of communication with husband, prior to making this demand, would have been a better option? I don't know, maybe even swapping weekends so that XW could enforce her punishment in her home. Oh, but that wouldn't work - it was Valentine's weekend and she had plans to go out of town. What? Cancel her plans to make D a priority? So we have D all weekend but see her only for meals. Husband, in his true form, refuses to speak to D for 48 hours (Remember, he does the withholding of "love" thing as punishment).

D's only reprieve was church Saturday night. She was given the option of going with Cam and I and decided to go. Initially it was presented as a punishment ("She'll go to church whether she wants to or not") but I explained that church should be an option for her, not something presented as "punishment" - I won! Sorry ... got a bit off track there ...

The car seems to be a wonderful place to talk to teens. I have control of the radio and they can't get out. It's one of my favorite times to talk with Cam, so I thought I'd give it a shot with D as well. During the conversation she says, "When T had his accident ..." WHOA! Stop - hit rewind! What accident?? She tells me that on a recent road trip to Colorado over winter break, the car T was in hit a patch of ice, lost control, rolled over twice and landed in a gully. The car was totaled, but none of the 5 young men had any injuries other than a few bumps and bruises.

This trip was a month ago, and I distinctly remember the voice mail message from T that said, "Just thought I'd let you guys know that I made it home safely." I don't remember hearing the part after the roll-over accident. I now have to decide if I tell husband in hopes that he just forgot to tell me about it, or if I risk that he hasn't heard about this and he loses his mind when I tell him (he often shoots the messenger). I take a risk - he didn't know - SHIT!

He calls T and starts gnawing on him - Why didn't you tell me? Didn't you think it was important? Am I not worthy of knowing? Then hangs up on him and refuses to answer when T calls back.

Then it's XW's turn. He calls her - gets voice mail. Leaves a message similar to the conversation he's just had with T. Needless to say, she doesn't call back. Ah the drama! I felt like I was in middle school!

Tell me what you think. Should husband have been expected to carry out XW's punishment, or were there better options? Does T (an adult) have a "duty" to share details of his accident with husband?

It's no wonder 75% of second marriages end in divorce ...

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The Rest of the Story

First things first ... Birdman brought to my attention an oversight on my "The Day You Were Born" post - in a nutshell, I gave Mariah Carey too much credit! If you watched the video, you may have noticed that Mariah was not alone - Boyz II Men also performed AND co-wrote the song. Must give credit where credit is due.


Second, I finished up my first Picture Fiction Challenge project and it is ready to post on Wednesday. I am completely terrified excited at the prospect of sharing this creative endeavor. Anyone interested in participating in this challenge still has a few more creative days to "Get 'er Done!" Visit R.E.H. [HERE] for all of the details.



Last but not least, I thought I'd share a little background on the issues surrounding a few of my recent Sunday Secrets. I don't often talk about my family situation on this blog (at least not directly), but I'm thinking there just might be a few of you out there that not only can identify with my situation, but may even have some words of wisdom.

My family is a "blended" one. Husband and I have known each other for over 20 years, but have been in a "relationship" for just the last five years, and married just short of two years. Although we don't have any ours kids, we do have some his and hers kids. On husband's side, T1 is 20 years old, the bio son of ex-wife that husband adopted when T1 was 10. We also have D2 (13), bio daughter of husband and ex-wife. On my side we've got C3 (12), my bio son from a previous relationship.

"Blended" marriages/families are far more of a challenge than I ever imagined. They require that you take all of those ideas you've learned throughout life about what a marriage is and throw them out. Whomever said, "Love will conquer all" never had to deal with a blended family. We've got ALL of the struggles usually common in marriages coupled with a shitload myriad of additional challenges. It's no wonder second marriages experience a 62% failure rate.

We've had a difficult year. Both husband and I experienced a job loss - his in May of 2007 (he was unemployed for almost 4 months) and mine in November, however our biggest struggle has been in defining parenting relationships in regards to C3. As you may recall from a previous Sunday Secret, C3's father died about three years ago. C3 never met his father, although he did speak with him on the phone two or three times. Due to the non-existence of a father figure, husband has taken it upon himself to fill that spot. An admirable undertaking, but one that has been volatile at best - not because of any resistance by C3, but because husband's expectations and demands of C3 are far greater than his demands and expectations of T1 and D2. Husband also refuses to acknowledge C3's Asperger Syndrome (autism spectrum) diagnosis and would prefer to believe C3 is jusy "lazy."

Most recently, this manifested in parenting actions that crossed that proverbial "acceptable" line. Although I'm not comfortable sharing the nitty-gritty details, I will say that this was a serious breach of safety in the home - safety C3 deserves to expect but that was violated. Having grown up in a home where similar behaviors were tolerated, I knew that I had to do something about this now.

Of course, husband has shown a great deal of remorse, but that remorse has been sprinkled with bits of justification. In my world, there is no justification for what happened. I did something I never do - I gave an ultimatum.

In a manner beyond calm, I explained to husband that this must NEVER happen again, and that if it did there would be no discussion about the next step - C3 and I would leave immediately. I also demanded (yes, I really did!) that we begin family counseling immediately or again, C3 and I would need to leave, as I was concerned for his safety. Within three days, we were in the office of a family counselor and we continue with weekly visits.

I don't know where this will lead. Some days I think I will never be able to forgive husband's actions, other days I think I may be able to move beyond what I feel to be his ultimate betrayal, but I know that I will never forget what happened. I feel a great deal of anger (at husband) and guilt (at me) and no longer feel confident that I'm always doing the right thing. This week, I'll have the opportunity to sort through my own thoughts without having to deal with husband's thoughts. I see it as an opportunity to gain clarity and I plan to use it to my advantage.