Aftermath And Beyond

Court yesterday was…Blrrg. IT showed up wearing its best “I’m a victim” look and acting all proper and trite. Not once did he ask about Spook. Not once. My attorney wasn’t even there because we were called in early. I am so glad Mrs R was with me. I wanted to rip his ponytail off his fucking scalp with my bare hands and nails simply for being so damned detached and acting like he was being wronged.

Yes. He got a continuation so he can find out how to add her to his insurance. BUT once the state’s attorney looked at his pay stubs and told him the standard is 20% (about four hundred a month based on his income) suddenly he said he wanted time to consult an attorney. Over being told to pay for his kid. Why the fuck would you need a lawyer for that unless you intend to plead hardship so you can pay less?

Further fuckery was moved (to an apartment in one of the ritzy subdivisions) and the notice went to the wrong apartment number so he claims he just learned of it Thursday. Meaning  Spook won’t even be entitled to a month of back support as it only starts when he takes service.

In spite of a full mg of Xanax before leaving…I got bent on the topic of back support. Him, the state’s attorney, all so damned detached, as if Spook is little more than an afterthought. I found the state’s attorney a bit “dish raggy”. Ya know, the quiet passive mousy type that doesn’t really inspire fear, confidence, or even mockery. Benign. Like him. But Mrs R kind of put a hand on my arm to remind me I was getting bent so I forced myself to calm down and make the appropriate “I understand…I see…” noises.

It was Mrs R who brought up the retro support at which point the donor started stammering. I guess the topic offends him. He gave me a look that’d peel paint when I said, “He abandoned his child.”

He still doesn’t think he’s done anything wrong, still doesn’t think he abandoned her. Only through watching the show Most Evil am I finally coming to terms with the fact that some people are psychopaths even if they don’t commit acts of violence or murder. They are pros at “self victimization”, taking no responsibility for their actions and blaming everything on others.

And then he was granted his continuance until Feb 19 and we left the room. Just outside was my lawyer and having never set eyes on him before, it was a little bizarre. I said, “Can we serve him while he’s here so he can’t claim he didn’t give proper service?” Yeah, I don’t think the donor saw that one coming. So up the stairs we went to get it all filed and him signed off on service. My lawyer kept talking to It about his home improvement store job. I just wanted out of there, away from that husk of humanity…

Not ashamed to admit once he signed for service and fled the building, I breathed a sigh of relief. All that time we stood around and not once did he even ask about his daughter. Yet he truly sells that he cares about her. Unfuckingreal. I was there a little longer as the lawyer got me paperwork for the $200 fee waiver. I couldn’t pay it, that’s for fucking sure.

Then it was done for the moment and that was when…BAM. Anxiety hit me like a runaway train. Pounding heart, knocking knees, and the dizziness…I nearly tripped going down the stairs. Mrs R offered to buy me breakfast but I was so woozy, I declined politely and drove myself straight home. It took two hours for my equilibrium to return. That’s the weird thing with anxiety…Even if in the moment you’re not spazzing out…The spaz out will come later.

I am feeling it today like a hangover. All morning my pretzel gut was a wreck. Then I took the lithium, grabbing a bite after the fact…An  hour later I was spewing. (This puke’s for you, Dr. Oz.) Then I got hit with a stream of viciously bright sunlight through a window and that set off a mini migraine. Grrrr.

Wasn’t enough to have a sucky birthday. (My own mother didn’t even call me and when my dad called all he said was, what happened in court.) Only one other than Spook to even wish me a happy birthday was my sister. And it’s not all whinery, I don’ t make a big deal out of my birthday but geesh, MANNERS, motherfuckers.

I guess I should cut mom some slack, she’d spent the night at the hospital with her roommate. The roomie is being placed in some sort of rehab place for a month while they try to get the fluid off her lungs and improve her breathing…

Still, kinda rude, mom. I at least called her on her hatchling anniversary. Because I was forcefed a steady diet of “Be polite, be thoughtful, don’t be rude.” Way for those around me feeding me that shit to follow their own edicts…

So yeah, I feel like I got run over by a semi truck, the aftermath of yesterday’s anxiety. It is a mystery why I don’t go out and do more, isn’t it? NOT. I am barely managing the minimum these days and even that costs too damned much.

Four more weeks I get to turn around and do it all over again. Yippee ki-ya, motherfucker.

So today I am licking my wounds, cursing the lithium nausea (I now remember why I hated it so much in spite of how effective it is) and pondering how I ever saw anything good in the psychopath that fathered my child.

It occurred to me that he’s not changed a bit. He will  never admit he did a damn thing wrong in our relationship or as a father to Spook.

I have matured enough and reached a level of clarity where I can admit that I do self sabotage my relationships because truth is…I like being alone. Relationships feel like a noose around my neck. I try to adapt because it is expected but when that noose tightens…maybe I do get my bitch on more often. Maybe I do act wacko. Because I don’t want to give up but if I run others off…Well, they left, not me.

It’s quite a self realization.

I haven’t given up hope on anything, though. My job right now is to be a mom, not a serial relationship freak.

The crazy cat lady is fine being the crazy cat lady.

Because it was predicted at age six that I would be a crazy cat lady and damn it, for once, I have consistency.


11 Responses to “Aftermath And Beyond”

  1. That was a roller coaster two days. I hope you feel better soon and you and the kitties celebrate your birthday with a little furry love fest! While I doubt he will ever change, at least you got the ball rolling and hopefully he will be forced to start contributing financially to his little girl. Hang in there!

  2. It’s not the worst outcome for the court case but the waiting must be really annoying. What a twat the sperm donor is being. I hope they get him for every penny they can.

  3. Took me a while to figure out who “donor” was in your posts but now I get it and it makes perfect sense. All he is a sperm donor. That’s all he has contributed. Hope the motherfucker pays his dues! Sorry about your panxiety. Hope it passes and things get better.

  4. You sound strong, morgue. Even if that’s a case of “fake it till you make it,’ I think it’s a very good thing indeed.

  5. You did great Morgue. Holding it together during a court proceeding when you have been wronged (or someone you love has) and watch the whole thing swing away from your righteous anger to some petty bullshit the other side starts to play is enough to earn a stay in the Rubber Room. The falling apart after is normal, actually. It’s harder for us to keep our cool and you did great! Yay for Mrs R as well.

    Donor is obviously enormous douche-bag and every single person in that room saw it when he asked to have time to get an attorney. Karma is gonna bite his ass so hard one day. She’s just waiting until she figures out how much bigger of a douche-bag he is planning to be.

    I know your birthday sucked and you don’t really do birthdays, but I’m sending you a birthday wish anyway that the next time you have to go deal with this douche-bag he is made to pay and if possible made to also look extremely foolish while it’s happening.

    We should all bag up the visible side-effects of our healing medications (you know…vomit, diarrhea and such) and send it all off to “Dr” Asshat as proof of how well we are controlled with such few side effects. Sadly, the worst of the side effects leave no evidence.

    My thoughts are with you Morgue. ❤

  6. Hi M,
    I’m a little belated but happy birthday, hon! You have more love in this community than I think you know. I still hope and pray you get everything. I’ve seen this kind of court proceeding, it’s all very legal and all too frequently, very unjust in the “court of justice.” I’m glad you were able to endure so far and the donor doesn’t have a spork embedded in the throat. Well done for all that.

    // GIPHY

    Much love and respect,

  7. That’s some scary && difficult shit to deal with (been there). Good job Sissy-Chicka! Thinking of ya! Happy Birthday! !

  8. Oy vey. What a douchebag. And you stood your ground. Good job. Happy Belated Birthday-even though I sent you an email 😉
    Love you, Crazy Cat Lady

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