A quick note before I’m running to get the kids from their institutions.
It’s been a couple of phone calls from her mother — after about 3 months break — now’s my wife is again in the me vs her mother mode, while I’m fighting against her mother all over again.
Perhaps, that’s some kind of a curse. I couldn’t fight my mother properly in the fights with my then-girlfriend. Instead of just isolating one from another, I just dodged my mother, allowing her to damage the girl. And so now I’m living the other side. Over and over and over again. To my defence, it feels like I’ve been doing much more effort than my wife does. Or at least some effort. She panically afraids of leaving her comfort zone in this. And she does not understand that some fights, you can choose where to fight them. If she’s uncomfortable of fighting her mother in person, then design the system of minimising the in-person contact, and just fight her over the phone, say.
So, turned out, that Solomia was correct yesterday, in reading her mother needs. She was eager to come to our home yesterday’s evening, when she arrived unannounced. I didn’t read that, because I stopped being overly atenttive to her mother needs. I make an effort to not notice. And not caring.
The bitch wanted to persuade us (mainly her daughter) that buying this house is a great idea. To which, actually, I have no arguments, but one: it’s a good deal, to swap our apartment for the entire house, with a territory, pretty close to the city. The data hasn’t changed, however: it’s the house one minute of walking distance from her very own mother.
I repeat:
The mother would have all the benefits she can get off us living with her, while not having any downsides of us being at her territory. She’d casually manipulate Solomia to clean her (fucking filthy and grime filled with foul mullock) house, trim her grass, do all the possible chores for her. She’d pretend to help with kids as a compensation. As she did already. And she’d cross our territory whenever she wants. She didn’t even bother to find out whether we’re at home, she just assumed we’d be there, and rushed into action.
And we pay for the privilege. I don’t even want to consider this, and even think through this. It’s revolting, and offensive.
So far, my only reaction is: we’re going to divorce then. I’m not going to live with your mother for the 2nd time. It’s a very hard no. It’s borderline offensive even to discuss it.
She replies: ‘Okay, I tell my mother that you said it’s a hard NO.’
Not that just ‘No, thank you.’ Which she told her already, like a week or two ago. ‘You said.’ As if she’s on her mother side now, all of the sudden. And actually considers the possibility of living alongside her wonderful mother, door-to-door.
If only I could summon the kids and leave with them elsewhere, I’d happily allow her to live with her mother back again. Without us. I won’t enjoy the result of mentally ill ex-wife, apart from the stupid realisation how far-sighted I was initially, with all this physchology shit, diagnosing this on the very first interaction with her and her parents. Yet, I made this stupid mistake of commiting to change that, and instead of actually helping her, I was damaged myself as well. I failed miserably. I was in no resource to help, and overestimated my power.
Yeah.
Now, I pay the price.
Blogging helps me think more clearly, by the way. Having all this formulated, helps me make this decision without any hesitations. It’s unfortunate that it’s a luxury, having the time and resources to actually process all the things life throws at us.