Tag Archives: anger

Brace for impact…

Last night would serve as substantial evidence that I did not meet this goal. Not that it should really come as a surprise, if one looks at the facts. The fact that as much as my divorce has impacted me, as much as my choices in certain men have hurt and disillusioned me, my divorce and my choices have impacted my children.

My goal as a mother, from the point of conception was to provide my children with a life rich in love, health and memories. This goal has not changed. Choices made have have not afforded my children a childhood with that vision.

I thought that finding a significant other would complete our family. As I have said many times already, because I focussed so much on the happy ending, I ended up making poor choices. Choices have consequences.

As a single mother, when we choose the wrong man and invite them into our home and family, our children are immersed in the negative, the unhealthy and the hurt that the wrong person brings as much as we are.

I have learned my lessons. Unfortunately, it has taken me a few years to do so. In those years, childhood moments have been stolen and tainted. There’s no magic to undo that and I’m not sure I’ll find forgiveness for myself for making the choices. I may not find it from my children either.

Last night became a head on collision for me. I went through my day relatively peacefully. I had coffee with colleagues, laughed and was productive at work. I headed to dinner with a colleague and tried Persian food and enjoyed some laughter. I returned home going about my night. All of my children gathered in the kitchen, it was pleasant. I literally turned to do something and when I turned around the peace turned into catastrophe. Not unlike a car accident, everything changed in a millisecond.

If only the moment had come with a warning to brace for impact. I was hit with my son’s anger like a Mac truck taking out a Honda Fit.

My son and one of the twins had a sibling moment of name calling. I just stood in the kitchen the other day and lectured all three kids on how we will speak to each other in the Home. Last night, my son felt I should have called the twin on her name calling and started taking me to task on it. This was the moment of impact. I didn’t realize how hard the impact was until my son’s anger and judgement sprayed around the room like pieces of a vehicle in a full impact collision.

My son was feeling alone and unsupported and he did not like my answers. He had the perception that I only call him out on bad behaviour and not the girls. This is inaccurate but his perception. Something about my response ignites pent up anger. My son unleashed all that he thinks about my choices in men and the decision to include them in their daily lives. How his childhood has sucked because of it. Nothing I say brings calm. As he goes on, all I can think is he just wants to be angry. I express remorse, I own my choices, I acknowledge his feelings and remind him that I cannot change it. I remind that I experienced it all too. I apologize again. To him the apology has no weight. Disappointment and feeling robbed of happy times prevail.

I cannot argue with how many things have sucked in the last 13 years. I don’t disagree that there have been intense negative moments in the hands of male counterparts. More than should have ever occurred. On one hand, I get the anger and I do not blame my son for his anger. It should not shock me. It’s how it is unleashed that hits me. The debris and shattered glass tears through my soul and it is now embedded with already existing shards of failure, shame, regret and hurt.

What they don’t see from me on a daily basis, since the divorce is that I beat myself up, they don’t see the pain, they don’t see the shame and self-loathing that I battle already for having failed to provide them with the childhood I had dreamed of for them. Their disappointment is my tragedy. I soldier through these times, I hold my head up, I move forward, which may appear to other’s like I’ve forgotten or as if it all was of no consequence. The strength it takes to move forward and face them everyday, they will never know. I know I’ve failed, I know they have missed out and I know I will not likely find forgiveness from myself or from them as they make their way through adolescence. I hope it will come and I will stand in front of the firing squad when necessary.

I tell my son that only time and my actions going forward can prove to him that I have learned. I express to him that if I could go back and change it I truly would.

Last night he stormed out of the house in -40 degree weather. My girls crumbled. I was at a loss. In shock. He ranted the teenage rant of when I can I’m moving out and never looking back. My heart shattered, my reaction anger. As he tied his shoes, I told him “You are my son, I love you. No matter what you feel for me, I will not stop caring for you. I’m sorry you feel this way.” He left. I was mad and then I was scared. Two girls falling to pieces beside me.

I texted him once the world stopped spinning “Let me come get you and take you where you want to go. No talking.” A text comes back “can you just come pick me up.” I do.

I open my eyes this morning to a six foot two, shirtless young man. He stands silently at the side of my bed staring at me. I break the silence with a quiet “What’s up?”

“I’m sorry for last night.” He says wiping a tear from his face.

“Are you?” I respond. Not sure why that was my choice.

“Yes, I am” he says.

I pause and offer “Okay.”

He lingers a moment, wipes another tear “I have to go to work” and walks out. It’s -40, I let him walk.

I choose to move forward in most days positively. I do not forget my failures but I try to grow from them. I have to move forward and find laughter, any other choice would bring about my soul’s death and then what would be the point of it all?

Tomorrow is not promised. I will do my best to make each day count. I will do my part to make the rest of their lives an abundance of happy days.

The ugly truth…

May 2017

This post was prompted by an argument that occurred between my teenage son and ex-husband. I was thrown under the bus so my ex could save face. My ex has told his new wife, friends, and town of Shawville a selective version of our divorce. 

Most of the time I don’t care what his version is. However, when selected pieces are fed to my children to undermine my relationship and somehow make me less in their eyes. I will not be silent. 

When after 10 years, someone can’t be “friends” with me because I’m the “ex”. That’s an unpleasant reminder of the other side’s smear campaign and lack of accountability for two things:

1. The reason for the divorce (irrelevant to all). 

2. The relationship fostered with the children by their father and stepmother. 

I have struggled with whether to post the thoughts that follow but recent events with my oldest child lead me to want to speak a little of my truth. I may lose “friends” in posting this, most will just scroll over it. That’s okay – I understand. I had a wee heart to heart with someone recently who said “The bubbly Krista who helped me through rough times hasn’t been around for a couple of months.” Probably the biggest proponent of that is the fact that my children, are children of divorce and it has impacted them. Affected them – they need some repair and perspective. After 10 years of divorce, it is still unhealthy. My son was recently burdened by an untruth about why our marriage ended and it provoked him to question my integrity and loyalty as his mother. It burdened him with unnecessary information and inaccurate information. It is a slander that was spread through the small community I used to live and teach in. It reached my colleagues, my parents and my parents’ friends. I had to explain myself unnecessarily then and now recently to my son. Then I had to tell him the ugly truth about my divorce, a truth I have fought hard to protect all of my children from. “Children will be allowed to be children. There will be no yelling today…” The beginning of a long past family Christmas get together directed to my spouse. 
Yelling, anger, verbal abuse, physical aggression towards children, selfishness, laziness, and disrespect were the instruments of destruction in my marriage. I used to drop my kids off some mornings before teaching, cry my eyes out to the parking lot of the school, brush myself off, enter the classroom and put on a show. 

In my marriage, I did everything that both partners should share equally in and I decided that if that was the case – I would eliminate the toxic from our lives and continue on a lone parent as I had already been doing. This time, no anger. 

For 10 years, I have been the lone parent, managing a career and raising children. Having 4 days of down time a month. That’s 480 days of down time for me over 10 years in contrast to my ex’s 3240 days to manage himself, his wife and his work without interruption from the realities of raising kids full time. My children have been burdened with the fact that child support is paid, amounts having been announced at family functions. Seeds have been planted by father and stepmother that they pay for our life. 

Guess what? When mom has sole custody (never once challenged) her sacrifice is all of her time and the dad’s sacrifice is the pay cheque. P.S. child support amounts are decided by Justice Canada and not me and financial hardship (as claimed) can be filed through the courts.

My children chose not to see their father for 10 months straight because of his anger and lack of attention. Their initial assessment of a good time with their dad in the early years was that he did not yell much. That has been and remains the truth and reality as to why the divorce happened and why there is no shared custody. Not because I’m the big bad guy punishing my ex but because I love my children and I will not allow them to be immersed in a toxic environment. 

My marriage ended because my spouse chose anger and himself over love and family. That is our truth. Nothing else. 

Divorce is not the easy way out, it is painful and challenging. It demands that both parents set their own negative feelings aside for the sake of the children. The unfortunate truth is that is not always the case. 

Spare your kids the details and love them to bits. 

Parenting isn’t about you….

“Love your children more than you hate your ex” ~Tamara Judge

September 2017

My children choose not to go to their  dad’s.  Tears pour as they struggle with protecting themselves, digesting their relationship with their father or lack there of, and worrying about hurting their dad’s feelings. Thank goodness for therapy. This is beyond my scope of being able to kiss it better or flip the switch with an ice cream. 

I look at other people’s situations, how unhealthy their ex’s are and yet they send their kids to them half the time. Seven days on, seven days “off”. I’m envious and confused at the same time. 

I couldn’t fathom sending my kids to their dad at 2.5 and 5 years old without supervision. Who would protect them? Who would be the voice of reason? How would I sleep? 

Yet other people make the choice to send their kids, to not fight it. Do I have it wrong? Should I have chosen to do things differently? Maybe my kids would have seen the truth sooner and it wouldn’t be such a struggle for them? 

Fourteen days “off”. To be turned off, to only worry about me. To do as I please. Sounds fantastic. I’m envious. I wish that could be our situation. As I get older having that kind of down time would be luxurious. 

That’s not the choice I made. I feel I made the right choice and the reality is the Arrangement was never once challenged. My ex has not worked on himself. 

My only regret is having spent energy behind the scenes doing damage control for my ex, trying to keep the kids positive. Many days and nights spent helping them accept a stepmother, again doing damage control for my ex burdening them with the need to make her feel special. 

It is not the child’s responsibility to soothe your feelings, insecurities or to make you feel special. That should come organically because you are treating them like the treasures they are. Kinda like a karma thing…

As I write this Ginger calls.

Her: How are you? 

Me: Good but effing tired.

Her: Let’s plan your kids coming here for a weekend so you can have some time to yourself. You need a break. Seriously, it’s happening.

I love my friends. 

“Morning K”

I sit and wait for a macro to run at work… And in comes an email on the bottom right corner of my screen… Mike a, subject: Trailer… My heart pounds as I have known it to pound the last couple of weeks and I feel sick… Fear… Why do I have to deal with this today? Why do I have to deal with this at all????

Same feeling I had Sunday morning when I finally checked voicemails  and heard “This is detective C from the Ottawa Police Service calling in regards to a report you filed…” Yeah 2 months ago! Then there are two subsequent messages where the officer gets pissy and tells me the file will be closed… Great, close the file! I’m sick of thinking about it. I’m sick of dealing in the reality that this psycho gets to walk among us. Close the file! Throw it away!  Burn it!  Remove it from my mind! Take that rotting piece of my heart while you’re there, amputate it so I never have to revisit it! Please take it from me, you can’t do anything about it but can you at least do that!?!? Take it from me and file it away under lock and key… Ugh.

It’s amazing the things your insides do when emotions run high, when Fear steps under the lamp post uninvited and lingers…

I open the email as Fear stands behind me, with its hand on my shoulder…

“Morning K…” Some blah blah blah about the trailer. Meh, just keep paying…I can’t deal. I don’t even care what it says! All I can see is the greeting… Who the f@%# does this lunatic think he is?

You don’t get to call me K, KK, special K, Miss K, angel, babe, princess… None of it! Only people I love and who truly love me can use such references, although there are some I can never hear again…

Just write the email, skip the greeting where you act like everything is normal. Where you act like nothing happened. Quit screwing with me!

And then I realize I am letting him. I am choosing this reaction. So, I remove Fear’s hand, finger by finger and send it on its way. My insides settle and I simply reply:  “K. Thanks.”

I am restless, in a state of flux, waiting, impatiently waiting for answers from here and beyond. I am feeling coo coo bananas.

Perhaps this ECA stack thing should be shelved until there’s some balance again…

I hate this restlessness…. It is not me…

The purge is good though.

I sit here and engage in conversations about my hair, it’s curly today, au naturel,  German names, horoscopes and no one is the wiser…. Life is bizarre some days!!!! Just bizarre – the masks we wear…

Let’s Meme it out… Get nerdy with me 😉

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Always alright,

Muah 💋