I've relived this 24 hour period many times in the past ten months. The story has been repeated more times than I prefer to count. So I'm hoping this is the final time. This time, I will put it to rest.
Earlier in the day, I had my final appointment prior to submitting to insurance for weight loss surgery. I had completed six months of appointments with the doctor's office, had cardiology clearance, had pulmonary testing, met with a psychologist. It was a lot of hoops to jump through and I had completed each step. I was planning to schedule surgery the first week of September.
To enjoy the afternoon, we went to a Peruvian restaurant for lunch. The conversation was pleasant and the food was enjoyable. It felt very natural. So we were getting in the car to drive home, and the question came up as to why I asked about the monthly bills for the house. I explained that we were going to determine what portion of the bills my mom would contribute each month. The plan was that in one week, she would move in with us. Living alone was not a good option for her and settlement for the house was in three weeks. Remember this timeline.
Let's backtrack a bit. Earlier in the summer, there was a conversation that involved mom, me and my ex. Mention of my mom paying off the mortgage for ex's house was made. I clearly stated that wasn't appropriate. I know we had at least one other conversation about it, and again, I made my opinion clear- that it wasn't appropriate. Another discussion was held with my mom, sister, brother-in-law and me. The result was that mom would contribute part of the monthly bills. We would figure out the total cost of the bills and divide that. It was a very reasonable plan.
Begin the freak out. Questions of when was this decided, why wasn't he told, when were we planning on telling him flew. It became an irrational situation. I pointed out that paying a portion of monthly expenses was reasonable but couldn't get him to agree. He couldn't even formulate what portion of the bills (not even a percentage) would be acceptable. He kept saying "we had an agreement that the mortgage would be paid off". No amount of rational thinking could change his mind from that. He couldn't recall that I voiced my opinion more than once about that option being unacceptable. "But we had an agreement" was his mantra.
We returned home and he went upstairs to withdraw and sulk. After I few hours, I asked if he was coming downstairs to watch a preseason football game. He was still sulking. I asked him to discuss it. He refused. Then I made a technological error. In trying to respond to my sister, I sent him a text that said he was mad, and being unreasonable and didn't deserve his favorite sandwich that Christie offered to get him. And the shit storm began.
Ranting, a lunatic in front of me, he refused to discuss anything. He was screaming about betrayal, that I went behind his back. He couldn't trust me. More about the agreement he had with my mom. "I want a divorce."
I felt like I had been shot. Not the kind of gunshot wound that would kill, but the kind that is painful with every breath. You don't want to move for fear of making it worse. Just as fast as he stormed in, he stormed back out. Retreating, withdrawing again, this time to his daughter's bedroom (in a reverse Oedipal complex). I gave him time to cool off.
The next morning, when he approached me, I started. "Would you reconsider trying to work things out?" No. And now he had a written list. The things listed were demands of a sort. He wanted a divorce, I could file for it if I wanted. (That was pure laziness on his part. He didn't like paperwork and would balk at the fee to file.) I had 90 days to move out. He really couldn't demand that but he thought that made him powerful. A few other ridiculous items on the list- cancel the DirecTV installation, take my cell phone insurance off his credit card. Dumb stuff. He was going to buy his own groceries from now on. Did he think I was going to poison him? I could still poison his food if he bought his own groceries. He then informed me that he was going to the police station to insure that none of my family would be permitted in his house. And he left.
So I cried. I was already crying but I cried more. I packed an overnight bag and drove to my family who were rock solid. I knew they were strong, but never expected how strong.
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