You (Don’t) Have a Friend in Me, my day in my life

​Yesterday on Juneteenth, I went to see Toy Story 5 with my grands. At a nearby location called The Collection. It’s a huge deal for us as it was the favorite movie of my son. He’s 31. It framed my children’s childhood. It is the one movie all of us might name for the category “defined our family.” Culturally.  

And he’s fought for a long time a horrific battle with schizophrenia. Most of that fight it was unnamed and stealing him away. He was terrified of getting help. It’s been something my kids and I desperately want to discuss, understand and have help to take off his shoulders. To stand with him in the journey. It’s been something that took him out and thus took us out. Literally battles against a Devil, mind, splits, one another, violent and him literally trapped-all alone and without care. This was the nightmare of nightmares. 

For me as a mother almost no one to tell -save a few friends from my early life in social media like Instagram -to have even known about it or discussed it is a luxury I don’t have.  I’ve been isolated in it. My spouse totally unavailable since the pandemic start -not even eating food in our home-when he began pursuing an affair- that was unknown to me. Second or secret life apparently.  Most remains unprocessed for us but I will say in the last five years I have faced more pain and difficulty than many ever do -both in my health and in family crisis. At many points not being here has seemed a logical and good outcome for me. I know that’s distortion. And no one gets out alive literally something I say daily.  His father put my son into homelessness on the advice of his then hidden to me -paramour (for lack of a term that’s not profane) and her cop brother. I didn’t know that he was even capable of an affair, and at all inclined to that -in retrospect I see I was systematically devalued and drug into the mud by it-  I thought that he loved me and was suffering some 64 year old apparent pre dementia like changes -due to the stress of coping with it-or not coping with -my son, his disappearances, constant through the night texting, leaving the room if I was in it, distracted and angry persona, meanness, in the middle of the night drives, disappearing for hours, buying or wearing silk underwear unlike his boxers-all of it were chalked up to severe personality changes and in that way the three years were absolutely hell on me. I spoke to the children about it constantly as us needing to understand his “stress”- now I see what horse manure. But I attributed it to how hard our home was with my son. I shrunk. It wasn’t really that at all-that was a cover. Then he took this advise offered up. From his unboundaried now expert personal life advisor. Horrific advise.  The advise of people who make decisions from scarcity mindsets and deep cultural backwaters, driven by education lack and poverty-victim built mentalities. As I see it very much of this locale. Wrong for my son. Where mental health care is meted out sadly by wealth, influence and proximity to power. Where sadly one must be “connected”. To be helped. Which is the story of this area. And not fair to my child.  He just needed good care free of a father getting it from an affair with a work boss, and from good agencies and an advocate we hired to help him get care. Homelessness put my son in deep catatonia. No way to self care or feed himself. And my spouse left him there many many days and nights  to go visit with his paramour I am left to guess doing what-to discuss their next moves, until Luca was on the edge of real death. By then my daughter had paid to take her brother out of homelessness and into really nice hotel housing. And I’d found him and he did it for me. We will never on anyone’s advise ever again make a situation such that our kin goes into homelessness. The ignorance of that is astounding. It is beyond destructive for a failing mind. Please don’t do it.  Ever.  I will never forgive my spouse and his “associates” for this horrific advise. The demon in this. Having sat with him processing it -talking about what went on for him - I know what happened to my son within homelessness. I can’t share that until I accept I was a part of such cruelty. He came closer to dying than I can explain.  Then my spouse forbad my seeing him in the hospital and through this time in the highhanded way he’s made all of these decisions with my not hearing the truth or being allowed to be a participant in coexisting decision making -saying it would lose Luca state care. If I went to him. For him I gave up my son at the one time you must support. I increased prayer to at least eight hours a day. My mothering rights were just denied. Now he’s with a kind of court care. I’m known to that care. I function daily with my son. And I’m left trying to ensure the boundaries exist to stop the intrusion of the hidden mistress and family. Forever. For my kid’s sake. One main reason I’m telling this on my blog.  I am afraid of them, their power and fury and seemingly low processing of printed word and very far from truth hitting the light of day. I will not lay down.

 But when he loved this movie he was a darling, loved, happy, dear little sweet boy my son and I wasn’t married to a cheater with a girlfriend who is breaking marriage vows, forcing my own abandonment and destroying my family. Luca loved Toy Story 1 and though movies were too loud and too intense for his delicate sensory system he went to Toy Story. Thanks to Pixar for that. Thank you for excellence Disney. I think movies for him were reality and this was alive for him. It was a good with this movie. I wish he had gone today. The 5th is terrific. Top notch movie. He said for me to enjoy it turning down my attempts to take him. Mostly I did enjoy it  

But it was also disturbing because a family who were African American sat in front of us in row K. Had tiny babies. And got threatened by the older woman employee ( note to self -try here for a job) because one child was howling in previews. This was right in front of me. And I wasn’t perturbed by some crying at all. I’ve been a young mom in a family. I’ve been there needing to take us all out for a minute after- birthing, changing, washing, cooking, cleaning, clothing and all the other doings. All on me. And my older child deserving a family movie.  Everyone settled -after the family was told there had been a lot of complaints. That wasn’t something I believed. The audience was chill. The dad explained mom was coming back in a second-having gone to restroom. And she’d settle child -which she did. When little tiny baby cried again much later Dad took baby out. Then theater lady approached again and said “ a lot of complaints “ and evicted them. I don’t think a lot of people complained. No. And I was the person most affected and it wasn’t a big deal. And they made that family leave. That wasn’t righteous. At all. (It may have been racial profiling.) It was unlike my other 66 years worth of theater going. I regret I didn’t go out with them to demand this exit just stop. I did tell the family several times I was so sorry. In Oxnard the theaters are very tame and quiet. This certainly was true in theater 7 at one in the Collection. It still makes my daughter and I just feel such empathy because my daughter knows and experiences shaming from others when her three year old has public meltdowns. Because she is autistic. We know and also remember my son melting down at four years old during the start to Toy Story and suction cupping himself to the back wall. But we were just allowed to watch the movie. Then  actually given compassion and care to help him  

Sometimes what people need is compassion, empathy and support. Over shame, blame and active or passive hate. 

We finished the movie but my daughter and I felt less for that part of the experience. We felt an echo with current events. In our wider world. We both felt Disney and Pixar wouldn’t want this. There’s no way they’d want this. And we both felt diminished. As human beings the way racial profiling or fat shaming or lack of awareness about mental illness or autism or just things children express can put you on someone else’s shit list.and you get treated to hurtful reactions.  I watched Fran Leibowitz a writer and adroit social commentator delightedly verbally outlaw all children from restaurants and airplanes. As inconveniences. But as a teacher and mother I know the shoes of a mother who has to feed children sometimes out and about or take them to see family somewhere else. You need restaurants and planes even after 8pm. It can make the environment different for others, when children are in it-sure. We can help by having compassion or I suppose assholes can go register complaints or send false profile hate mail or simply do a stand up set on children in restaurants after eight pm. Some ways to respond would be better undone. 

 So my grands looked great for the show. 

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I felt the specific betrayal trauma all memories of my life now and going forward will forever elicit since I learned in December -on my Anniversary and then by Christmas -my husband was out about several years being unfaithful and blamed me for his secret work caught affair conducted behind my back. My fault. His unagreed to or even understood abandonment and six months of silence have included my learning of his workplace intrigue, his blaming me entirely with his paramour’s frantic support. It has included threats, and phone calls and harassment of my children (by the Affair partner) and tragically my suffering severe betrayal trauma from the blindsiding shock and my not sleeping two months-at all. Deep health harm. So much. My blood pressures were 200/300. My mom suffered a stroke when my father left her and in her situation she could speak to him and knew her situation and filed for divorce losing most everything. In her day that’s what happened to older women when the professional they built really through their deep sacrifice got a better lawyer. I was left with no forwarding address, no info, blamed. And remain that insignificant to this point. Thrown like trash. Anyway my health became completely “medically fragile”. I had no warning and no time to secure systems, financial info, no supports, health aides, drivers, systems to manage and I was then deeply suicidal and still think of that as what I’m required to do if I need more significant help -I’m not ever going to get. I’m required to die. I absolutely view this as something when I can’t get to the hospital or get my food or lift the garbage cans or keep the house I will have to die. I cannot go into homelessness like my son. I will not do that. My school superintendent husband destabilized my son. In care. He continues to destabilize me as my punishment. The family he left and the damage to my granddaughters and children is permanent. He doesn’t seem to understand. But that’s a ploy.  So two people can sneak around, then lie and have done so as he said “for years”- so much harm was done here.  My health meant my eyes deteriorated so badly the doctor felt immediate corneal transplants HAD to happen. Over me managing this Fuchs Dystrophy. I have no one to help me through that. The care that requires I will never have. I just couldn’t see for months to drive or cope. Some days I crawled on my hands and knees. I had 7 serious falls immediately after I was abandoned. Broke my tailbone and had another blow in my jaw and two concussions. I kept going. My spouse was unavailable. My children cannot be intermediaries but I’m forced to do that.  I put comments on my Instagram pleading for the world to pray for me. I was threatened with a libel action repeatedly for telling what was actually happening to me by someone who doesn’t provide their phone number or identity but screams like a crazed furious hyena. Who I have to legally stop from these intrusions.  And the person I cared for and loved for 40 years rewrote the script. He has clearly been Blaming me. With the help of his paramour decided on top of this- it was a good idea to also take me to court. For libel. Then wish me ”peace” after doing so many horrific things to blow my peace to kingdom come. The gaslight Olympics.  

My daughter tells me the best defense against libel is the truth. It is the truth I never in my wildest nightmares thought my spouse could betray me and do something so heartless with me at 66. I am beyond blindsided. Nor did I think our marriage was a sham “for the sake of the kids”. In fact I think the fact this paramour was a former school board member apparently and therefore absolutely the last person a school superintendent should be “seeing” matters. Greatly. And frankly I cannot believe he’s in his right mind. I think he has some evidence of dementia.

He does have a friend in me. He always did. My spouse refuses to speak, do therapy, no form of mediation or any professional care, he has no consent from me to a separation, is publicly in the community humiliating me and destroying my integrity in the community. My integrity has been completely trashed. He has cost me my peace and destroyed my family. He’s involved in adultery which I always made clear was something I couldn’t do. I’m standing really only for my son and kids. That’s always been my focus. 

They have a friend in me. My kids. For all time I will place My family at the heart of what I do. Especially on line.  But the truth of betrayal is every memory, every experience of your safety is destroyed. You no longer operate. And healing this trauma is ALL I can manage and I’m not really managing.  I insist on rectification and repair. The destruction of my support systems, retirement, life and care, and the cruel attacks by angry bird paramour are really elder abusive. The health numbers completely clear. It’s Targeted. And I’m disrespected daily beyond measure. 

The stuff of nightmares.