It's funny how things end up. I quit a job in October of 2020, amidst Covid-19. The stresses of school restarting and feeling overwhelmed finally got to me. My job was caring for other people's children, as I am a preschool teacher. One day I nearly snapped. The children were unruly in the new position I took with same company, but a different location. The reason I switched locations was due to a toxic work environment, where the newer director would talk down to employees, belittle them, slam things in anger whilst muttering angrily under her breath, and get angry at the employees who wouldn't bend to her new policies, rules, or lack of accommodations, including full lunch breaks. Coming from a background of verbal and physical abuse, this did not set well with me, and I was often in fight-or-flight mode, and ridden with anxiety. So, I went on a 30 minute lunch break one day, and never returned.
Then I wrote a letter to HER boss, explaining what was going on in the establishment. I was offered a position away from my wonderful coworkers who had become family to me, and I accepted.
Nothing was ever done, though. They continued to suffer, and I felt guilty. Survivor's guilt I suppose.
In this new position the leading faculty was kind, but lacked in other areas, such as support for students who really needed it, and having a backbone when it came to families. Some of the staff could have used some support and direction as well. The children I cared for went from hard to manageable, and then a new class came in, and was mostly unmanageable. I was coming to a breaking point. I had never yelled in 4.5 years of working for this company, and I found myself YELLING, and feeling like I wanted to pinch one of their head's off. I knew it was time for a break, or to find a new path. I quit in October.
Then, I began working with my husband for the same pay that I was making as a preschool teacher. $12.00.
After two months I was doing almost everything possible in the shop, all but programming machines and cutting material. That included cleaning, running machines, deburring, sanding, stamping, and cleaning parts, then preparing them for shipment, processing orders and keeping records up to date on stock, invoicing which meant also learning the basics of Quick Books, and also delivering. I also handled bank runs.
A mention of a raise invited sarcasm, and then laughter.
I was hired to do office work, and to help clean up the shop.
I lasted two more months, as expectations were high, and the pay was low. Never mind the fact that I was talked to like I was a child at times and angrily scorned if I did something wrong or couldn't grasp something quickly enough.
I quit mid-February. That's also when I started my own business, with his blessing.
Things started off great, but then my printing company for my photography screwed me out of $600.00.
First Blow.
I kept trying, and continued to do my photography. Setting out on adventures, then coming home to edit. I then started working on creating a presence in my community as I waited and fought with the printing company to make it right. The canvases I have are damaged, and some of the products never came.
I had to eat it.
In the meantime, I finally completed my series of novels, and released them on Amazon, and to my friends and family. I was on cloud nine! My photos were getting traction on town sites, I was making a presence, I had sold 20+ books! I was out of my funk and finally feeling like I was accomplishing something!
Then...
I was called lazy. I wasn't doing good enough or trying hard enough. Also, how dumb could I be to drop food down a garbage disposal? Your lazy ass couldn't even bring the recycling a few more steps out to the bin rather then putting them on the porch. Plus, how about the ones in the garage? (The new pile of beer boxes in the garage that didn't take long to become a hill of trash in the corner, as I had spent 30 minutes just weeks before collapsing and putting away.)
But wait, I NEVER did that. I'm lying.
That was the SECOND Blow.
That high I'd been on, that depression and funk I'd finally clawed my way out of, that happiness I'd found after 3 years of lows, anguish and depression? I was on my way and was so excited!
BAM. Guess who is back?
July 1st, 2021
Self doubt, lack of self-worth, feeling less-than, not good enough, stupid, underqualified, and like a failure to my husband, children, and family.
The amount of wine I drank started inching back up. The cigarettes that I was down by at least 7 a day started making their way back into my routine.
My anxiety began to creep in here and there.
Let's go back to the start of depression.
It's been on and off for years, as I was previously in a marriage with a convicted felon who was in and out of jail, then finally went away for two years, (that's when we divorced) and also, when I got pregnant with my fourth child, my and my husband of now 14 years' child. Yes, I was still married, but only on paper. Does that make it any better? No. But I refuse to beat myself up over it. My last son saved my life. Literally. I had cancer cells that were found only because I got pregnant, and they were removed after his birth before they ravaged my reproductive system, and the rest of me. I was one step away from stage 1 cancer, as it was the highest level of dysplasia.
Fast forward.
My ex constantly threatened to take our children from me, and would often bash me in front of them. Parental alienation at it's finest. I lost years with my two oldest children because they saw me as an enemy, due his constant talk about child-support when their ears could hear him, therefore creating me into a money-hungry monster who hated him and wanted him to suffer. He caused our youngest (4-5) stress, nightmares, and at times, bedwetting, because our child was overwhelmed and scared that he'd be taken away from his home, and mother. It was at that time I contacted the courts, making them aware of what he was saying/doing to the children. All because he was angry at ME. My two eldest started coming around to their senses, both of them, at about 16 years old. They were old enough to Google, pay attention, and see through his facade.
The child support was $500 total per month, Not per child... TOTAL. I never asked for more, and he rarely paid it. He finally began working under the table, and within 7 years owed a total of $42,000 in child support. He didn't feel I deserved it, nor should I need it, because my husband made enough money to support them. I went above and beyond to ensure he had them whenever possible, usually twice a month on the weekends, even given the long distance which is 400 miles. Even as he wasn't paying a dime of child support.
This caused friction in my current marriage as well.
Fast forward again.
My Grandmother is sick. She has heart surgery while visiting. My mother and I have a falling out. It has to do with her speaking to my ex. He was FLIRTING with my mother for an extended time, and she neglected to tell me. I found out. She was sorry she allowed it, but she was lonely and it was nice having someone notice her.
Talk about heart-ache, man.
My grandmother is upset with ME, but I'm not going to hurt her too, by telling her what happened.
Depression.
(I'm happy to say that the relationship between him and I has somewhat mended over the years, and he is a good father, a good husband to his wife, and overall, has grown into a decent, respectable person.)
Hallelujah.
See, I used to have a notebook that I kept all of my heartaches in, but a psychologist recommended I throw it away and start over, that way I wasn't constantly reliving the hurt, and could find forgiveness.
Okay. Done.
Anger and resentment have been the norm in my current marriage. We actually almost didn't get married. He called it off two days before because his business partner's GF told him that I only wanted him for his money, which is laughable, because we were BROKE at the the time.
(She had asked days before just in conversation while we sat in my garage, why I was marrying him, and I told her the main reasons were because he had a license, no criminal record, and a job.)
It was meant to be taken seriously, but also in a way that was funny, given the history of my ex.
So then his partner went onto tell him what I said, and that I was a money-grubbing-whore.
Even funnier?
I signed a pre-nuptial agreement two weeks before THAT, otherwise, we couldn't get married as that was a stipulation of he and his partner's business agreement. That way, I'd have no claim to the business or its assets if we divorced.
I'd like to add that we were all going through a recession, so everyone was broke... and the reason for my lack of employment during that time and for the first 5 years of our son's life, was because he ASKED me to stay home with him until he started preschool. So, I quit my job at 8 months pregnant, and stayed home.
During that time, I wrote novels, and did photography gigs on the side. I joined Facebook groups about photography and such, and ended up getting a request from a member. I obliged, but only on a public level. We never spoke in person, or in any private chats. I guess my husband didn't like the fact that I was typing with another male, (he could read everything, as it was public and I had nothing to hide) so one night, he angrily picked up my camera and smashed it to smithereens, as well as my phone.
(That was the 3rd phone of mine he'd smashed.)
He'd also previously smashed a computer, and my car, due my talking to an old friend on FB. My husband was in the same room, and able to see everything I was writing. I wasn't flirting, or making plans... just typing, as the old friend had messaged me for the first time earlier in the day. I hadn't talked to the kid in 15 years! I didn't shield him from seeing it, because again, I had nothing to hide.
I did write that marriage was dumb, though... I was young still and stupid and this kid said he was thinking about getting married. My husband and I had been in a tiff for days, so I wrote that because I meant it.
Bad Idea.
Fast Forward again.
He berates me like it's nothing. Twice, I have slapped him on the cheek because of it. I couldn't take the emotional and verbal abuse! Was it wrong to physically fight back? Yes. I should have just walked away. He would have kept going, though.
I slapped him to get his attention, To wake him up. To stop him from continuing, especially because the first time my daughter was in her room and could hear him saying terrible things to me. Just, random deliberate verbal abuse, and wrongful, negligent accusations and meanness.
The second time was after a night of heavy drinking with the neighbor in 2016. I stayed home wrapping presents and sipping wine, while he drank a bottle of tequila, threw up, and drank some more. He smelled disgusting upon his return home, so I made him a bed in the guest room. He refused. I was angry as well, because the night was meant for us to spend together preparing for Christmas eve, which was the following day where we would meet back up with our son, who had spent the night with my mom.
I went to the guest room, and he followed, getting in the bed, and trying to touch me. So, I moved to the bedroom. He followed.
I angrily explained that he needed to either leave the bedroom, or leave me alone in the guest room.
Well, he then preceded to bash me. Saying total nonsense, and berating me. Calling me names like, whore, slut, and more. So, I wacked him. That time, he tried to hit me back. What followed was me running through the house and locking myself in the bathroom. When the coast seemed clear, I came out, thinking he'd gone and passed out. He hadn't.
He slapped my face, so I grabbed his hand to prevent any further damage. That's when he squeezed my hand so incredibly tight, he broke the top of my left pointer finger, which still doesn't function properly to this day. More angry words were spoken, then he went and passed out.
My mother and sister witnessed the broken finger, and the small bruise on my lip and swollen cheek.
Luckily, our son did not notice.
They also noticed the horrible stench of tequila still lingering on his breath.
The berating continued over the years, but the slapping did not. I never touched him in anger again.
I simply took it the verbal abuse, and sometimes, yelled back.
It wasn't until May 26th of last year that I couldn't take another second.
(This was also during the pandemic, and I had been furloughed from my job for nearly a month)
He was eating leftovers, and I asked, "Awe man... did you take all the beans?" Light-heartedly.
You would have thought I ripped the plate out of his hands like a mad woman.
I was then called a "piece of shit" over and over again. This time, all of the children were present, including my ex's stepdaughter who was visiting with us for the week of spring break. They heard every horrible word, and I quietly and calmly asked him to stop. He then involved them in his rage, trying to bait them into his argument. They would not. They all disappeared up the stairs shortly after he stopped yelling, and shut himself in the bedroom.
The next day, I packed all of my important belongings, had the children do the same, and we left for North Florida. Dakota and I stayed with my ex-mother in law, as we're still very close friends, and the other children stayed with their dad and his wife.
I stayed gone for 5 days. Returning mainly because of my eldest son still being down here, and because I was due to start back at my job the following Monday, and didn't want to risk losing it not knowing if I could find another.
Fast forward a year.
That year was amazing, BTW. Changed behavior, no fights, the perfect gentleman. Sweet, kind, patient, loving, and the man I knew he could be if he wanted to be. He never bashed, screamed, and rarely complained. He had moments of frustration, like when I was working for him, but so did I. Once I quit, things got better again. I was able to be myself, and I became a better version of me, too.
I was ELATED. He finally understood!
But then, I guess the resentment came back. We had to buy health insurance. I had previously covered that expense with my preschool job. It was a benefit. I also covered the electric and other utilities.
We were so excited just a couple months earlier about my business starting. Now, it's worthless to him. I will never succeed.
The thing is, I am building from scratch. His business was already established when he bought it.
He doesn't understand.
It's now all my fault.
I said I would even go without insurance to keep down the cost. Put our sons on Kid Care, or Medicaid! He's the only one who NEEDS good health insurance, as he has thyroid disease.
But, how is that my fault?
He'd have to pay for it, regardless! If that job of mine had never existed, he'd have to pay for his healthcare.
Yet, he's angry with me and now screaming abandonment because I quit my job, and haven't made any real money in about 6 months. I'll take the blame for lack of work. But I WAS trying. I was on my way.
I WAS ON CLOUD 9.
I was getting too high for him, I guess? Is that what it was? If I succeeded I wouldn't need him any longer? Or maybe it was something else.
Back to the beginning of this post.
I'm now lazy, dumb, and incapable. Go get a fucking job. Get health insurance!
Be someone else. Stop talking about dumb bullshit.
Back to the same thing.
Yet now, I'm supposed to have the courage and confidence to go get a job outside of my field and prosper at it, or even believe that I can?
I told him I would get one when school started for the children, as we have things that need to be done here, as in preparing two bedrooms and establishing my daughter back at home after two years with her dad.
I mentioned divorce today.
I said once he's rid of me all his problems will be solved. I won't be a financial or emotional drain on him any longer, and he can be happy again, (although he seems pretty fond of me if he wants me physically, which is VERY and somewhat abnormally often, and yes, he usually gets what he wants.)
He also threatened to sue me for abandonment. As if I just sat around doing nothing for these past 6 months. I cook wonderful meals, keep the house tidy, do chores, pay bills, do laundry, help with weekend chores as well...
Basically, a housewife who is trying to start a side-gig of her own. A wife whom was told not a month ago that if I was comfortable being a housewife, he was okay with it.
I'm a bad wife, though.
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