of not quitting smoking. i keep falling before i’ve even really climbed on the wagon, never mind falling off of it.
a precursor would have been the huge fight with fh. notice the name keeps changing based on whether fighting has taken place or not. i got called cruel and horrible and pathetic and retarded and what else? oh a cunt. and by the end of all that, i had earned the title.
see, you can’t say to my daughter, while she’s upset that you’re yelling fuck you at her mom, that “it’s all mommy’s fault, she’s a fucking cunt.” seriously. that’s like, damaging. so i kept pushing him mentally, knowing it would drive him past the edge of whatever he has that’s close to sanity. knowing it would make him leave, maybe for good. finally.
this means he stalked out after me telling him that a pathetic person drinks and smokes pot daily while borrowing money from family so that they don’t have to get a job. that he needed to consider why he was having such a depressive, angry reaction to us breaking up – and i wasn’t. that he could call me a horrible person all he wanted but i was not normally emotionally abusive or physically intimidating towards him. and i’d never been willing to walk away from zoë cuz i couldn’t handle him. that i had been counting down the days since the night i told him i was pregnant for him to fuck things up enough to warrant me (passively or agressively) making him leave. not that i’d wanted it to happen, just i knew it would. i mean, let’s review…
the night i told him i was pregnant was about 2 hours after doing my (fifth) pregnancy test. he was late. hadn’t called. had just started a new job about two months before. had been sober for about 4 or 5 months before finding a drinking buddy at the new job. also had been unemployed with me supporting him on my unemployment (medical) claim. [that finally got paid back to me in march of this year, btw.]
can i mention that this is the 3rd friday in a row that he’s done this?
so i hear him downstairs and we have lived in a duplex with his mom for a little while. they’d been there since we’d broken up the past summer, but me, i’d just moved back in in august.
and he couldn’t make it through the door himself, he was so drunk. this whole key in doorknob situation? didn’t work when tequila had been used as a lubricant. so i said, “i guess this is a good time to tell you i’m pregnant” when i opened the door and helped him to his feet. and he said, “oh fuck.” and then talked about how drunk he was and how much he liked his new drinking buddy who’d kept pouring him shot after shot. that was it. until i brought it up again.
last night was the sixth time in, how long’s it been? two months, that he’s threatened (guaranteeing, in his eyes, at the time) that he will not pay child (or spousal) support and will no longer visit her because he can’t stand me. sorry then.
last night was the last time. he keeps walking away from her. regardless of anything i say or do, it’s not warranted that his love and affection towards her should be conditionally based on me. and last night, when i suggested he needed to leave, he just tried to hand her to me, as if she was some object. no goodbye, no anything. so when i refused to take part in that, he put her down on the bed and started to walk away. just like that.
nope, don’t want this child anymore.
he actually referred to her as an it later on in the fight. i think it was at the same time as calling me a loser for not having a job.
what was that then? losers don’t work? so that means i, someone who works about 15 hours a week, not including paid blogging gigs, using free childcare and baby einstein and naptime and bedtimes as my catalysts…i am a loser. BUT WAIT, the person who has called me that didn’t work for MONTHS, would “help me” during the days he was home via napping when she did, going for walks after bitching about not being able to sleep in, and start drinking immediately after playtime. playtime ended at 10:30 for us, then. oh and smoke a joint anytime she was sleeping or out of the apartment with me and he didn’t get dragged along.
YES a winner, for sure.
so, if he is going to be so undependable and instable and threatening and physically aggressive, it’s just not smart, nor would i be looking out for me or zoë’s interests, to continue this relationship for right now. he needs help. he needs therapy. he needs…to fall on his fucking face for once, without someone always there to take care of him.
so sure, he’ll likely cool off and then regret it or try to pretend it didn’t happen or he didn’t say anything he did or whatevs. but i cannot wait for the day when it actually happens and he becomes that person most have warned me he’d turn out to be. cuz yeah, as important as him loving her is, it’s not enough for him to change anything about himself besides his mailing address. and yes, she needs to be loved and have a daddy. but she needs stability more, right now especially.
so the legal action is ensuing. this should be fun.
and by fun, i mean not.
