7/14/21
Once.
Just once.
Just once I want to be wrong.
About his mood swings, that is.
My head is such a mess. I'm so stressed I don't know that I can put this all down right now. There has been no time. From the moment I crawl out of bed way too early to the moment I finally collapse in defeat at night I am just ... scrambling. Frantic. Chasing one vindictive hurdle after another.
I guess since I called him out as an abuser he felt the need to prove me right. Not in the blatantly physical sense – that would land him in handcuffs.
This is probably the point where I should say “let me back up and start from the beginning.” But I'm not really sure if I should. And there is soooo much between the “beginning” that was really only 3 days ago and now.
I'll try anyway.
Sunday. Today is Wednesday, right? I believe this started Sunday. Maybe Monday. No, Sunday. Shit. Maybe it really started Saturday? The full-blown fight happened Sunday evening? I left Monday morning? Today is Wednesday. In July. Only July. This year has gone on forever. But really really REALLY, it possibly started a few days earlier with his increased consumption of Fox News.
I feel like I've been talking like that for the past two days. I have no idea which way is up. I clearly don't have a clue what day it is. Don't ask me who the president is, it really doesn't matter.
Saturday morning. We're in bed. I roll over to cuddle and put my leg over his. But he rolls away, gets out of bed, and walks out of the room. All day he's standoffish, kinda giving me the cold shoulder but not blatantly. I wanted to take him to Port Washington because we STILL haven't been back. But I came across an ad for a used car I wanted to look at for Madeline. And then I remembered events I was looking forward to around town. We started our morning the usual way, on the back deck having coffee. I noticed a tangible mood shift when I brought up the car I wanted to look at. By late morning/early afternoon there's no denying it. He very clearly has absolutely no interest in spending the day with me. He's laying on the couch watching Fox News. (Commentary in the middle of the day? Is that really necessary?) Periodically napping. Then he disappears to the camper. To watch more TV. That's odd. He only does that when he's making a point of being absent and wants me to come after him. I went out there once, found him sleeping (I think he took 3 naps that day). About 45 minutes later I went back. I had really wanted to go to the art festival and he said he would come. He got up, begrudgingly, and we went. Queue more passive-aggression. We weren't there long. Maybe 30 minutes. He basically walked ahead of me in front of each tent expecting him to follow him. How fun.
He slept in the camper that night, complaining that his back hurt.
By Sunday I was sick of his childish sulking and determined to get out and do something. I spend the entire week at home with nothing to do and no one to do it with. I'm not doing that on the weekends too. Again, he's up before me. I shower, get dressed, walk out.
G: Where are you going?
E: Church. Wanna come?
G: Not really.
So I went to church by myself. I can't seem to go to church without crying anymore. In worship. Pretty embarrassing when the pastor tells everyone to “say hello to those around you” and I obviously have tears in my eyes for no apparent reason.
At some point, for some reason, he starts with his whining about “there's no love” anymore. Tells me that Saturday he intentionally didn't kiss me or tell me he loved me because he wanted to see if I would. I informed him that I didn't, because he was giving me the cold shoulder and I didn't know what was going on. That, after calling him out for testing me. That blows over. I still need something to do, or I'm going to explode. Suggest hiking, but his back hurts. (I guess my mattress isn't the culprit after all, if it still hurts after a night on the camper mattress.) He suggests fishing. Let's go. It was kinda nice, but kinda tense. Nice in that therapeutic quiet time on the water sense. I love water. It soothes my soul. Tense because we barely spoke. But also nice for the same reason.
Let me backtrack a little bit. Winnie is in full blow heat. Ruger is recovering from his trip to the Snip Clinic. That doesn't seem to be slowing him down one bit. Still caught them several times “doing the nasty.” Guarantee he's blown at least 1 stitch. I bought him a collar, harness, and lead to keep him from doing things he shouldn't be and pulling his stitches out. Almost immediately when Garrett gets home (Thursday) he takes it all off and lets him roam.
By Sunday night I'm frustrated. Both dogs have been tearing around like maniacs – literally in heat. IF Winnie has a diaper on, there's no liner in it. So now there's also bloody diapers laying wherever. And she's hanging out on my couch. Bleeding. After the third time catching the two of them doing exactly what they should not be, I'm fed up. So I voiced my frustration about the fact that I have been gently, patiently reminding him to get her fixed for a year and a half. He gets angry. Next thing I know, it's full-blow.
But no name-calling. Again. Baffling.
Until he informs me that he's been recording our conversations. Claims he has me on record in “rages.” That explains the pattern shift. He's been baiting me. And while he still throws his bullying temper tantrums, he is careful to not do anything on record that (he thinks) might put him in a bad light. So no name calling. No stalking around the house. No slamming doors. No following me around. No blocking me in doorways. No shoving. But still abusing me with his temper. Twisting words. Frequently changing the subject. Accusing me of absurd things.
And then he did it.
Didn't come out and say it.
Certainly didn't say it verbally. He said it in a text. “All the more reason you should go.” “I'm not throwing you out, I'm saying we are over and need to move on.” “Please just go.” “Things will be better for all when you leave.” “Like start packing.” ... and on and on.
I told him if he kept telling me to leave I would.
Monday morning. Plan is to grab stuff and get out while he's at work so there's no usual driveway confrontation. But he decided not to go to work. Just hung round the house. Garage. Outside. Walk inside. Wash. Rinse. Repeat.
At one point I heard him tell Zach to take the boat and go fishing. (Madeline was at wo
Now I'm terrified. Getting Zach out of the house means there will be no witnesses to what is to come. I sent Zach 2 texts. Told him his dad is getting out of the house so there was no witnesses and I was terrified. I also told him his dad is abusive, but not to take my word for it – talk to someone he can trust about the things he has seen and heard.
Spent a good part of the morning locked in the bathroom messaging my mom and sisters. Between strolls through the house I managed to throw a couple bags, my safe, and important documents in the car. I was able to leave safely when the mailman drove by. Leah reserved a hotel room for me. Spent the rest of the day trying to get my phone number moved to an account of my own and arguing with Garrett about it. I had given him simple instructions. Here's the number to call. They need an account number and a transfer PIN. “I have the number. I know what to do.” What he gave me was an email from Verizon confirming he released the number to Emily Fisher. No account number or PIN. Called Sprint. They tried. can't do anything without those two pieces of information. But he refused. Claimed he already did his part. So I tried. Same thing. Then he accused me of intentionally making things difficult and blamed me for trying to move it to another carrier instead of just opening a Verizon account. So I tried Verizon online. Same thing. Verizon themselves want an account number and PIN. Sent him a screen shot. “You need to get your own, not mine.” Sigh. All day. Tuesday morning I called and was able to get it done. Seriously wasted almost an entire day. On purpose, according to him.
Tuesday the tone of the conversation got better. Still back and forth all day, but able to civilly discuss things without the usual nastiness. Until he flipped again. I was trying to work out a time to go to the house and pack. Back to bickering it went. Meanwhile, I'm also in contact with family, friends, and the domestic abuse hotline. All recommend filing a restraining order. I was on my way to the house to try to grab some things when I took a wrong turn and ended up in front of the courthouse. So I went in. A couple hours later, walked out with a restraining order. Unfortunately, the judge did not order him to leave the premises so I could get my stuff out, and did not order him to refrain from removing or disposing of a household pet. When I got back to the hotel, I had angry text messages from him because I hadn't responded in awhile. He informed me he had changed the locks and would be taking the cats to the shelter in the morning. I asked him to allow me reasonable time to make arrangements for them. He refused, said he's not taking care of them. So I called the PD, and met them at the house. I gathered some clothes and toiletries. The captain called HAWS, made arrangements, and brought them to HAWS himself for Safe Keep. Didn't want to leave them at the house and give Garrett an opportunity to continue using them to harass me.
I'll pause here. I'm just too tired to continue.