Developments
My ex came over to get his stuff today. We argued. I threw him out.
In the divorce decree, he'd stipulated additional stuff that he wanted. It was less than half and he wasn't cherry-picking the good stuff, so after some negotiation, I acceded. I packed and boxed the stuff because I didn't want him in my house any longer than necessary (and oh! how pleased I am to be able to say that, because it is "my" house now, legally and everything!) After he'd loaded most of the stuff, he started making claims about things that weren't on the list and I kicked him out. Totally. Told him he was not welcome inside my house ever again. I told my kids not to let him inside. I called my mother who called a locksmith to change the locks. I reprogrammed the garage door openers to new codes.
Those last two are a really big deal for me, for a lot of psychological reasons. Yeah, I've been separated from the guy for going on two years, I'm physically scared of him, having panic attacks just from being in his presence sometimes ... and yet I'd never changed the freaking locks? No, I hadn't. I was too afraid that he'd break down the door and kill me if I locked him out. He's broken ... let's see ... three doors in St. Paul, two in that one place in Norman, two in that other place in Norman, one in that other place ... so, yeah, eight doors over the years when I've tried to lock him out, or when he came home and discovered the door was locked (instead of knocking like a sane person, or using his keys, he'd break the door, rush in as if thinking he'd catch me at something illicit, and then rage at me for how I'd caused the door to be broken by locking it while I was home alone; more often the broken doors came from me trying to escape him when he was being abusive, I'd try to hide, he wouldn't allow it).
Me and doors ... have a history. I was shaking mad-afraid earlier, but I tried to channel it into the motivation I needed to finally change the locks. And I dragged the rest of his stuff out on the front porch. Supposedly, he's to come by between noon and 5 pm today and tomorrow to get it, which means I have ten hours of low grade torture waiting in fear and tension for when he'll arrive. Now at least half of that is over.
A list of red flags for abusive relationships.
Another list.
A list of green flags for healthy relationships.
Another list of green flags.
Dan Savage letter of the day about men who deserve to be dumped (the comments are awesome - and yeah, I'm that Gamebird, too).
In the divorce decree, he'd stipulated additional stuff that he wanted. It was less than half and he wasn't cherry-picking the good stuff, so after some negotiation, I acceded. I packed and boxed the stuff because I didn't want him in my house any longer than necessary (and oh! how pleased I am to be able to say that, because it is "my" house now, legally and everything!) After he'd loaded most of the stuff, he started making claims about things that weren't on the list and I kicked him out. Totally. Told him he was not welcome inside my house ever again. I told my kids not to let him inside. I called my mother who called a locksmith to change the locks. I reprogrammed the garage door openers to new codes.
Those last two are a really big deal for me, for a lot of psychological reasons. Yeah, I've been separated from the guy for going on two years, I'm physically scared of him, having panic attacks just from being in his presence sometimes ... and yet I'd never changed the freaking locks? No, I hadn't. I was too afraid that he'd break down the door and kill me if I locked him out. He's broken ... let's see ... three doors in St. Paul, two in that one place in Norman, two in that other place in Norman, one in that other place ... so, yeah, eight doors over the years when I've tried to lock him out, or when he came home and discovered the door was locked (instead of knocking like a sane person, or using his keys, he'd break the door, rush in as if thinking he'd catch me at something illicit, and then rage at me for how I'd caused the door to be broken by locking it while I was home alone; more often the broken doors came from me trying to escape him when he was being abusive, I'd try to hide, he wouldn't allow it).
Me and doors ... have a history. I was shaking mad-afraid earlier, but I tried to channel it into the motivation I needed to finally change the locks. And I dragged the rest of his stuff out on the front porch. Supposedly, he's to come by between noon and 5 pm today and tomorrow to get it, which means I have ten hours of low grade torture waiting in fear and tension for when he'll arrive. Now at least half of that is over.
A list of red flags for abusive relationships.
Another list.
A list of green flags for healthy relationships.
Another list of green flags.
Dan Savage letter of the day about men who deserve to be dumped (the comments are awesome - and yeah, I'm that Gamebird, too).