A new kick in the stomach...

Wow, how I could ever, still feel even the tiniest bit of sadness for him has really got me mad at myself. When you're up against an abuser, you can't let your guard down for one, single second or they will see that hole in your shield and send the arrows flying. Here I sit, trying like an idiot to file for divorce and serve him with the order of protection, with no success because he avoids the service, so in the meantime he's been at work in another country doing virtually the same thing! This afternoon I was greeted at my door by a process server who handed me papers in which Derek is claiming that I am the abuser, that I left without his knowledge, which isn't true because he gave me back the passports to leave, and he's claiming that he's the fit parent and that I should be immediately ordered to return the children to him and that he should have sole custody! Horror of horrors, NEVER! NEVER, NEVER, NEVER, under any court, anywhere would I leave my children alone with that man for lunch, much less to live without me in the picture, no way! Then he had the nerve to send me an email tonight asking to please let him say goodnight to the kids before they go to bed! I wanted to jump right through the computer and scream at him for what he's trying to do, but I didn't respond at all; no good can come of that. Oh, this is upsetting, but I'm trying to see it logically: surely his public record of domestic violence as filed right here in our county will serve to corroborate my claims, plus since my order of protection was filed, my son was interviewed by a children's advocacy service and he actually conveyed some of the abuse by his father to the authorities himself, which surely should count for something. He's more vile than I ever thought, truly. Tomorrow my whole agenda is off the plate. I'm going straight to my attorney's office to address this fully. There are dozens of witnesses and character witnesses who could attest to what a controlling and abusive man Derek is, but of course these are people who are all afraid to come forward; afraid to get involved because many of them live close to him. In any case, just before my doorbell rang I was feeding the kids and heating up some spaghetti for myself. As soon as I read what the summons was about, my appetite took a holiday and my stomach was quivering as if someone had kicked me with a steel boot. I wanted to grab my babies and hold them to me as tightly as I could; I wanted to squeeze them so hard that they would just melt back into me and be safe. And yet they had no idea, as they sat there, eating their chicken nuggets and apples. For a moment I just stood in the kitchen with the papers dangling from my hand, not sure what to do: what was I doing, again? Getting milk? No, laundry. No, was I eating? Oh, I don't know. But soon, if I don't get it together pretty fast, my kids will start to worry. "What is it, mommy?" Dillon will ask. And then, "What, mommy?" Ella will echo in the wake of her big brother. I couldn't have that. So even though I wanted to panic, to cry and scream, to rock in a corner holding my knees, I didn't do any of that. Instead, I went to the living room with my kids, and tickled them. And hugged them. And spun them around. And just tried to keep myself together even though my mind was in a completely different place. So now I'm telling you because I want to tell someone but I also don't want to get on the phone and panic everyone tonight. I just want to say here, the one time. And then I'll go sit down on the couch, and feel a bit numb until it's time to go to bed. And if I can sleep, that will be mercy. And when tomorrow comes, I'll go to the fight, all claws fully out. Wednesday is the next court hearing about the Order of Protection. Since Derek hasn't been served, I don't think he'll be there, but given his latest scheme of lies, maybe he will be. Who knows. All I know is that tomorrow I have a new mission. Protecting my kids. Again. And just when I was about to relax a little. Shame on me. Until next time, I'll keep you posted, dear friend...