I’m not referring to the 4th of July. American freedoms are a farce but that’s a whole different topic.
What I’m talking about is my hope that come the year 2021, I’ll no longer have Clyde to contend with, but now that’s in jeopardy… well, sort of.
Every three years, something terrifying happens. Our child support gets modified.
For most folks, it’s just standard procedure. No big deal. You turn over your financials and a new support amount is stamped, but for us, it’s a one-year circus of battling it out in court, even when everyone knows what the end result will end up being.
Happy Boy is developmentally disabled so the odds are that he’ll be living with me and/or his sister (Sweet Girl) for the rest of his life, which neither of us mind one bit; however, Clyde doesn’t want the language put in our order that talks about our son’s disability or him being in school beyond the age of majority. He wants support to end when our son turns 18, but that’s not what the law says.
Clyde wants support for Happy Boy to be put into a trust, but he does this with limited understanding of support and probate laws. The court that has jurisdiction over our child support order has no jurisdiction over Happy Boy once he’s turns 18. This leads to the question of Clyde coming to our jurisdiction to file for guardianship of Happy Boy in four years.
Luckily, I live in a state which doesn’t like placing people under guardianship unless absolutely necessary. Our legislature wants people with disabilities to have as much independence as possible, but that doesn’t stop Clyde from initiating another lengthy court battle.
Hopefully, Clyde will just go away once he realizes litigation will need to be done in our state, in addition to the cost and amount of work that will be required to get the required medical evaluations done.
In some ways, I can understand it. If roles were switched, I wouldn’t want to be paying Clyde for any longer than absolutely necessary; however, if Clyde were a caring parent, I’d feel differently. I’d be grateful if someone was taking good care of Happy Boy and gave me a break from around-the-clock care giving, which can take an emotional toll after a while.
After all, I take care of all of our kids’ expenses. I work full-time and still manage to shuffle the kids to and from school/college and medical appointments. Everything we do, from a night at the movies to family vacations, takes special planning and preparation due to Happy Boy’s needs.
There are lots of doctor’s appointments and evaluations I have to take time off of work for. The amount of paperwork and record-keeping that’s involved is beyond annoying. I have to fight with school districts about the level of education being provided because a lot of districts really don’t care about kids with special needs. They write these kids off (we’re fortunate that Sweet Girl is wicked smart and totally gets Happy Boy so she’s a wonderful tutor).
I also give up a lot of personal time. I can’t go out with friends on weekends or take road trips because babysitters are for little kids, not teenagers with disabilities. Luckily, Sweet Girl still regularly helps out there, too, so I do get about one night off a month.
The silver lining is that I’m an introvert so parties and concerts really don’t appeal to me in the first place. I absolutely love doing and seeing things with my kiddos. I prefer their company to most adults.
I mean so far, Clyde’s getting most of what he wants out of life: the bachelor life. He essentially pays child support in order to have the freedom to do whatever he wants without being responsible for anyone else. He can go drink until he’s blue in the face, which appears to be his favorite past-time. He gets to go to parties and concerts. He can travel. He really has no worries aside from dealing with Blah-Blah’s emotional outbursts, but even then, he can (and likely does) just walk away.
Clyde does have the financial and physical ability to come visit Happy Boy or even fly Happy Boy out to see him. Yet, he’s never done it. The only times he’s seen Happy Boy are when someone else arranges and pays for it. Clyde spends his money and time on computer and video games instead.
I am very aware that Clyde doesn’t want responsibility of taking care of Happy Boy, but I’m also very aware that Clyde doesn’t want me to enjoy life. The minute it looks like I have the upper hand, all hell will break loose.
This means Clyde’s going to be REALLY unhappy when he figures out he still has to pay support but our custody order is no longer applicable. Basically, Clyde will be paying support without the joys of making me pay for Happy Boy’s visitation. For Clyde, the only point to paying child support is to keep a hand in controlling my life. I’m worried about what will happen when that control is gone.
My fake profiles didn’t get any hits for a few months so I started to think that maybe I was wrong. Maybe Clyde and BlahBlah had moved on. Maybe I was just being paranoid.
Then, about a month ago… viola! The gruesome twosome finally reared their ugly heads.
Apparently, it just took them a while to find me.
What I posted must have gotten to one of them because the day they registered as having viewed my profiles is the same day I got another crazy email from BlahBlah. The email talked about me being wrong about the visitation dates for summer and railed against our parenting plan again. This is the fourth or fifth summer they’ve tried to take Happy Boy over my birthday; however, our new parenting plan squashes that.
Clyde and I agreed to the dates a couple of months ago but Clyde doesn’t always tell BlahBlah when we communicate. BlahBlah then wrote to me using his email and pen-name, only to find out Clyde and I already talked about it without her involvement.
The even funnier part is the bait I set out.
The lovey-dovey pictures and family videos were only viewed one time each; however, there’s also a video with me and another man which was viewed over and over again. I’m guessing that was Clyde trying to figure out who this mystery man is because I doubt BlahBlah would care that much about me and some other guy from a decade ago.
Anyway, we only have three more circus-filled summers. Yay! Then Clyde and BlahBlah will have to find some new form of drama. I already have my retirement clock set to the day Happy Boy turns 18.
It has been aptly dubbed “Freedom Day.”
What an awful year, am I right? It was a nasty election followed by an even nastier outcome. We lost Alan Rickman, David Bowie, Prince, Mohammad Ali, Carrie Fisher and many others. I had to endure a couple of rough months in red-state territory, which sucked beyond all reason.
I didn’t have as much drama with Clyde in 2016 as I’ve had in the past. It seems things are finally slowing down after six long years. However, I’ve learned to approach the situation differently over time: Detect and avoid.
When Happy Boy goes to Mordor, my wonderful imagination is able to believe that he’s at summer camp where I can’t call or write to him. However, I know that at this pretend camp, he’s having fun playing in streams and feeding horses. Now that Happy Boy’s a teenager, he doesn’t need to speak with mom every day. It also makes it that much more exciting when he comes home.
I also made this decision to stop allowing the new wife to have access to me through my conversations with Happy Boy after I was told our calls were being recorded and listened to. She’s still intercepting my correspondence with Clyde; terrified that if we openly communicate, he’ll fall back under my spell.
I don’t know if she’s trying to become more like me or if Clyde’s trying to mold her into me, but either way, it’s super creepy!
Apparently, since she started dating Clyde, she started to like things that were special to Clyde and me. Things was were “ours,” like the Nightmare Before Christmas. Our wedding bands had the inscription “We’re simply meant to be” etched in them. She and Clyde went to Disneyland (without the kids) because that was “our” vacation place. “Their” restaurant, Fuji Sushi, used to be “our” restaurant. “Their” fishing spot used to be “our” make-out spot — and the location for our wedding announcement photos. She even moved 45 miles to the town where I was raised, a place where she didn’t know a soul, six months after she started dating Clyde. The apartment complex she moved to was on the same main street as I lived on. They used that as an excuse when Clyde was caught driving by my house on several occassions. When I brushed past BlahBlah at the courthouse (I wasn’t told that was her until later), she’d grown out her short pixie cut to my hair’s length. Her blond hair was dyed the same color as mine. Her glass frames look like my glass frames. She’s also told Happy Boy she’s been reading Harry Potter, with the knowledge that I’m a huge Potterhead.
So I left a sweet little montage online that any bored internet-stalker could find. A plethora of pictures showing the high points of my marriage with Clyde. Like I said, it was mostly bad but not all bad. There were honeymoon periods of brief happiness.
The pictures don’t bother me. They’re on an account I haven’t used regularly in almost a decade. However, I do know what it feels like to be haunted by Clyde’s past life. I understand how insecure it feels to be with Clyde. I know he talks about me frequently. Even if it’s bad, he’s still talking about me and I’m sure it gets under her skin. Just as I’m sure my former monster-in-law has called BlahBlah by my name. All these things are reminders that I was once a part of his life.
So if BlahBlah’s stalking me, as I suspect she is, seeing happy pictures of Clyde and I kissing in Hawaii or Clyde giving me a piggyback in Disneyland will visually support the idea that our relationship wasn’t as bad as Clyde claims. That we did occasionally have fun. We were active sex partners. The same things he whispers in her ear are the things he used to whisper in mine. He used to give me piggyback rides and stroke my hair longingly. He used to tell me dark secrets about his family as we’d lie under the stars together, planning ways to escape Mordor.
Plus, as horrible as it sounds, this is my version of justice. She’s definitely not the good person I thought she might be. Personality-wise and physically speaking, she’s the spitting image of my former monster-in-law.
I guess some of Freud’s theories weren’t completely wrong after all.
Over the years, Clyde constantly took me to court because Sweet Girl refused to visit him. He played the “My ex-wife is evil and I’m just the victim” card with different judges and attorneys. He kept arguing that Sweet Girl should be forced to visit him or else their father-daughter relationship would be forever damaged.
In the summer of 2014, Clyde testified to a judge (with a single crocodile tear running down his cheek) that he had changed and just wanted a relationship with Sweet Girl.
*Fast-forward 18 months later*
Sweet Girl turned 18 and guess how often Clyde’s tried to contact her since she became a legal adult?
Nada — Bagel— 0 times.
But wait a minute! He was soooooo serious about being a good dad. What in the world changed?
Well, Sweet Girl’s not a minor anymore. Clyde can’t use her to create drama in our custody battle. Thus, he’s written her off.
Anyway, this year for Christmas, Clyde finally mailed Happy Boy a present. It’s the first Christmas gift Clyde has ever sent: a Kindle tablet…….. but he included nothing at all for Sweet Girl. A nice little slap-in-the-face. I messaged Clyde and said we have two children and I find it in very poor taste to send only one of them a gift for a family holiday.
“I’m not going to send a present to someone I haven’t talked to in 5 years. It doesn’t matter who it is.”
Yes, underneath all the lies and manipulation, that’s the father he really is. That’s the Clyde I know. Especially when he’s not showing off for the courts or in-laws.
He’s quite different when his audience shrinks and his agenda changes.
Happy Boy “accidentally” left a T-shirt in Mordor over summer break, which was a perfect excuse for Clyde to send a care package to Happy Boy, labeled “in care of Amy”.
Mr. & Mrs. Crazy moved over the summer without notification and, in their typical baiting fashion, they put their return address in extra large print — I’m sure hoping to start drama.
Alas, I care not.
They also included beef ramen in their package, with the knowledge that eating beef is against my religion – a super passive-aggressive move.
We simply tossed it out.
And finally, Clyde & Blah-Blah included a letter to Happy Boy, worded and formatted nearly identical to the letters Sweet Girl & I sent to Happy Boy over the summer.
Clyde even tried to include a private joke….. but apparently the joke was so private that even Happy Boy had no idea what it meant.
Obviously the inside jokes Happy Boy and I share drive Clyde crazy because he tried to copycat it in his letter… and failed miserably. Clyde doesn’t know or understand Happy Boy at all.
Another glaring sign of a sociopathic mind: The unimaginative copycat.
So to keep the peace and stop the crazy e-mails, I agreed to let Clyde take Happy Boy outside of his scheduled parent-time for the summer. What did I get in return?
Typical Clyde behavior.
I’d already purchased Happy Boy a non-refundable plane ticket to Mordor for the summer but Clyde insisted on driving 1,000 miles from Mordor to here, which doesn’t make any logical sense.
Why pay to drive when a ticket is already paid for???
I found out later Clyde probed Happy Boy for information and tried to find out where we lived to do the creepy drive-by-her-house routine. It sounds juvenile unless you’re dealing with someone who has arrested emotional development.
But I digress…..
Back to the topic of summer visitation. Clyde’s rules are that we’re not allowed to talk to Happy Boy unless Clyde’s next to him, whispering what to say. Clyde hides Happy Boy’s cellphone and won’t even allow him to text us.
Clyde tries to make it appear like he’s hiding something to instigate a response from me. When Clyde started to restrict our communication with Happy Boy, I told Clyde I’d simply write Happy Boy letters for the remainder of the summer.
I’ve learned it’s best to just ignore it. It eventually passes.
BUT this is exactly why you should never give in or be nice to a sociopath.
They’re like toddlers. You can’t reason with them. It’s figuratively equal to negotiating with a 2-year old. If you’re nice, you’re going to be seen as weak and punched in the stomach in return. They take, take, take and the only thing they give back is chaos……. and they’re always trying to start some type of conflict.
We’ve been back to court again. This time, Clyde filed an objection to his past due child support and tried to claim that we were living together during the time in question. Ugh.
I wonder if his version of reality looks like something created by Picasso?
Just like before, he showed up in court with nothing – absolutely no evidence whatsoever to support his arguments (and lies). Not a voided check. Not a signed lease. Not even an ATM withdrawal that would coincide with when rent is paid.
Not surprisingly, he lost.
I’m fairly certain it’s just more harassment instigated by Clyde’s new nutty wife who seems to have a bigger obsession with me than even he does. I swear she initiates court action just so I’ll have to fly back to Mordor so she can get a good look at me to see if I’ve put on weight or been disfigured in some way.
(And I’m happy to continually disappoint her)
The only thing worse dealing with than a narcissistic sociopath is dealing with their enabling mother and/or new partner. They become the dynamic duo (or trio) of cuckoo-land.
Now Blah-Blah has started up with the threatening emails again, pretending to be Clyde. When I read their emails, I always unconsciously raise an eyebrow and then blurt out the “WTF?” type of laugh. It’s almost like they think they can pick which court order they want to follow. It’s so hard to be cordial and bite my tongue when I really want to say, “You two are absolutely off-the-wall insane!”
I’m so tired of dealing with them. It’s beyond ridiculous. It’s no longer interesting or entertaining ~ reading their emails is like stepping into Bizzaro-World.
I thought getting a new, air-tight parenting plan would end all of this craziness but they’re insatiable. They NEED to fight and cause drama… and I have at least another 4-6 years of dealing with their warped version of reality.
It’s been such a long time since I’ve been on here that I don’t even know how to create a post anymore.
So I started off my New Year with jumping in an ice cold lake ~ something I was finally able to check off my bucket list. Sweet Girl is doing wonderful in school and Happy Boy is still unwaveringly happy. His smile and laugh are contagious. Life is just plain great. I truly couldn’t be a prouder parent.
Yeah, okay, so I know you’re not on here so see how great things are going but hopefully this shows that life is full of its ups and downs, and you’d never realize how good it is unless you had a few downs. Keep that in mind when things get bleak.
DRAMA (the part you’re really here to read about)
So we left off in March 2013 where nothing really came of our trial or contempt hearing. To sum it up, we walked into the courtroom, judge looked over the case and basically implied “You two, grow up.”
That summer (2013), Sweet Girl turned 16 and marched herself down the courthouse to get an Order for Protection against Clyde with help from her domestic violence counselor. FINALLY! No more threats from Clyde, right?
Ha ha! WRONG.
Clyde fought Sweet Girl’s petition (and lost again).
Clyde then filed a petition to gain custody of Happy Boy.
The whole fiasco was frivolous. Clyde openly admitted in chambers that he didn’t really want custody, but once you learn and understand the family court system, you also understand that there are few consequences for just plain being a dick.
Clyde walked in the courtroom with NOTHING. Not one bloody paper or piece of evidence. It was a joke.
For trial, I had to take a half of week off from work; fly 1,000 miles to attend an unnecessary court hearing and spend $2,500 that I didn’t have in attorney’s fees, but that apparently didn’t occur to crazy Clyde who actually had the nerve to walk up to me after trial, put his hand on my shoulder and, in a soft voice, say: “If you ever need anything at all, you know where I am.”
(Just another laughable WTF?! moment brought to you by Clyde)
But I also walked out with an air-tight parenting plan. So all in all, it cost me about $2,500 to fight an unnecessary court battle; however, I got an order that finally settled everything. No more vague provisions and the Judge clearly said “I don’t want to see you two back in my courtroom.”
Now when Clyde tries to change things up, I just point to the section of our parenting plan that addresses the issue, politely smile and then walk away.
WHICH BRINGS US TO TODAY
When I received an email from “Clyde” that completely ignored our parenting schedule. The email said he wanted to take Happy Boy over my birthday… again, for the 4th consecutive year… outside of Clyde’s scheduled visitation.
So, apparently Clyde and Blah Blah are bored again because they pull some stunt every Spring, like clockwork. I was just hoping we’d finally skip a year; however, it appears the couple’s counseling isn’t working and they need something exciting to keep their mundane relationship alive.
(((((( heavy sigh ))))))
Clyde and I already discussed summer plans in private so I know this is actually Blah Blah writing… again.
I just hope this isn’t the start of more courtroom bullshit, but you never know with people like that…… because as the saying goes:
“Misery loves company”
“Before you diagnose yourself with depression, first make sure you’re not surrounded by assholes…” – author unknown
Clyde & I finally made it to court. Things did not start off on the right foot but I kept my composure. When the ruling was in my favor, BlahBlah was so angry that she stormed out of the courtroom before the judge finished speaking and Clyde’s mother and sister moaned through the entire hearing. Completely disrespectful, like they were on reality TV or an episode of Jerry Springer. The only two times Clyde spoke, nothing but lies came out of his mouth. I didn’t object, I just let Clyde dig his own grave. I’ve learned how to pick my battles. The more reasonable I am, the less reasonable he appears. Besides, the more rope you give to a liar, the more likely they are to hang themselves.
I’ve learned that if I don’t expect anything but deceit from a pathological person, I’m not caught off-guard when the acting starts. I end up laughing rather than getting upset over their blatant dishonesty and predictability.
When I saw Clyde in the courtroom, I didn’t even recognize him. He was a stranger. I didn’t feel animosity, or anger, or longing, or fear or… well… anything at all. It was like seeing a shell of a person. It’s so weird for me to look back and know he was the husband I lived with for more than 14 years. It’s even difficult to recall the depression I experienced for such a long time, when I lived with Clyde. I was in such a passive, survival state… such a fog… That life seems so long ago now, like it was a distant dream.
I can’t believe how far I’ve come since then. I’m extremely happy… happier than I’ve ever been. Romantic relationships aren’t anywhere on my list of priorities. I’m 150% okay with being “alone”. I’ve cut down on the amount of time I spend online and I’ve deleted nearly all of my social networking pages. I’m more at peace than what I thought was possible. Karma does work but you’ve got to give her space. She knows what she’s doing. Just be patient. Good things come to those who wait, and you definitely don’t need a “Prince Charming” in order to live happily ever after. If you’re dealing with a pathological person, remember the Golden Rule: NO CONTACT.
Relationships, even family ones, are a privilege… not a right.
It’s been a while since I’ve been on here but life’s roller-coaster started his uphill climb recently. Right now, things are good. I’m focused on the holiday, but if you need your narcissistic/sociopath/psychopathy fix, there’s a great article on CNN radio this week that can help keep you busy: