The Fight Against Jim

Posted by Denise Kingsley (Pongratz).

I dropped the ball again.

I married very young. I was in love. In a few short years after the birth of two children, I knew I had outgrown him. I knew I would have nothing if I stayed with him. He was unfaithful to boot. When I decided to leave he became obsessed with keeping me. It took me 3 years to get my divorce. I am sure that this part of my story is common.

I dropped the ball by not pursuing him for child support. The laws were different when we divorced in 84. If he was not working, which he conveniently did not, no support was ordered. Once I found out he was working, I started the legal ball rolling only to be buried in paperwork and depositions. I had to make the decision whether to continue the fight,or provide for my children. I chose to stop. I could not afford both.

A second marriage required a move to another state. Instead of trying to prevent the move, he brought me papers that stated he would never have to pay anything. I did not sign them.

I tried again a few years later to get him to provide for his children, Once again he made it impossible and the cost too great for me. I stopped again.

The children are now 30 and 32. I recently found out my ex, their father, was in the hospital near death. He had virtually no contact with the kids and went many years between any communication. He almost died. COPD and pneumonia. He recovered, but does not have much of a life.

A new fire rose in me. How could this man die and never leave anything to his children? Nothing. He taught them nothing, gave them nothing but the pain of being abandoned. For the first time in my life I am financially able to fight him. Lawyer, court, judgment. He did not bother to fight it. He thought nothing would happen after all these years. I won a judgment that is almost impossible to collect. I spin my wheels and make myself physically ill trying to get him to do the right thing. He has once again hired an attorney instead of giving anything to his children. Not even a token. No mention in a will. Nothing. He is trying to get the judgement against him vacated for health reasons. He is and has always been sneaky. I am sure his has been hiding everything he can. I spoke to my attorney and all I can do is to throw more money into the fight. I am at the same position I have always been. Do I fight? How much will THIS fight cost? Is it the money or the principle? I know in my heart it is the principle. I want him to own it! I want him to pay for the pain he caused but I don't know how to do it.

Is it right to let it go and drop the ball again? Does a sick man get a pass now just because he is sick? The children do not want to see him now. Everything he has done since his hospitalization has proven to the kids that he does not care... never has. Actions speak louder than words.

I need to find inner peace. Will that peace come from letting it go and moving on, or should I spend the money and try everything I can to continue the fight?

Is There Really Such A Thing As Forever?

Posted by Anonymous.

Angry. Distressed. Devastated. Shell-shocked. Broken, it’s all so broken. We were at home on a Saturday, my husband and I. We had just moved into our house we had bought and we had gotten married about a month before. When the house phone rang and my husband picked it up I thought nothing of it. When I saw his face I thought someone had died. It was his mother, she and his father were having trouble. They’d been going to counseling and she was calling because she felt it was time he know, she needed support and love and reassurance.

Now to frame this, I’ve been incredibly fortunate with my mother in law. When she and I met she was genuinely interested in my life, asked me questions, learned my preferences and really cared. She was a woman of myths, a mother in law who never reminded me of the devil. She actually seemed to believe I was good for her son. She was so happy he had met such a nice girl. She was amazing through the wedding plan and continues to be amazing to me.

I had my husband call her again, make sure that she didn’t want us to come to her, or her to come to us, to have someone with her. She decided she was going to come to our house and she was on her way. An hour later she arrived at our house, she broke down and told us that after 31 years her husband, my father in law had told her that he didn’t love her anymore. That he considered her just a part of her life, that he had different plans for the rest of his life. She was understandably heartbroken. After being a stay at home mom, she’s being forced to figure out how to support herself at a time she anticipated she and her husband would soon both be retired and enjoying that together. I hugged her and hated him. I love her so much, and to think that he could so callously do that to her tore me to shreds.

I hate myself because I can’t help but worry that my new marriage may not survive, it feels so selfish. I had always kind of thought that after 30 years you were “home-free.” I called my mother and sobbed like a baby. “How could someone do this, to someone they loved?” I asked her if marriages could really survive. She reassured me that she and my father were never going to divorce and for the first time since I moved 700 miles away from them I felt like a fool for leaving them.

This all feels so broken. What seemed so perfect was broken. Perfect Thanksgivings, perfect Christmases. I have so much trouble talking about this with my husband because I feel like every time I bring it up I’m just reminding him of how his parents’ relationship is crumbling. Although I have told him when he is ready to talk about it I’m here. How will I even look at my father in law? Are we supposed to have a relationship with him like this never happened? I know that this is their relationship, and our relationship with him is separate. But there is that nasty little fact that, well, I hate him.

Let It Be Me

Posted by Anonymous.

Fertility treatment sucks. Why are so many women who don’t want a kid getting pregnant and I can’t? It is like a bad dream. Sex has become robotic and like a chore on my to do list. I don’t feel sexual at all! I never had so many dildo ultrasounds in my whole life. Every few days you get poked with a needle and open your legs. Every woman in the waiting room has a story and anticipation about her. Some woman bring their children while waiting for appointments and everyone stares as everyone knows that is what we are all seeking. People at work ask questions about when is the next baby on the way? So insensitive – I joke that maybe there will never be another baby, they laugh tell you not to worry and that just forget about it and then it will happen. Doh. I don’t think so.

And the costs involved. Man, why doesn’t healthcare provide coverage for fertility. We have come so far in this day and age that us woman are waiting til our ovaries are dried up, our eggs suck, our fallaopian tubes are scarred with living, all because of our careers, and now the price we pay is expensive. The price we pay is maybe never having kids or families like we wanted. I never learned that in university when I was getting my BA, my MA, establishing my career.

If I had known all this years ago, maybe I would have had a child earlier even though I wasn’t really ready. Are you ever ready ? Your life changes forever. When you are younger you have more energy and more playfulness. When you are older you are more weary but wiser. So is there a perfect time in this modern age to have a baby?

The perfect time for me is now. But now may come and go, and I will grieve. My uterus aches when I hold or see new babies. Next time, let it be me.

My Lovely Mother

Posted by Anonymous.

My lovely mother.
My lovely mother that 'taught me all i know'
My lovely mother who today, after i told her that my best friend went to my work to get ice cream, told me that she was worried that my employer would like my best friend better and hire her instead.
My lovely mother that complains day and night about all the laundry i cause her to do (which is a small amount mind you) and when i offer to do it all "no! you'll blow up my washer! you're too stupid to do it!" is the response i get from the couch shes 'resting' on.
My lovely mother whom supports me in nothing i do.
My lovely mother who when a guy doesn't call back immediately she makes 'a HILARIOUS' joke that maybe hes with his other prettier girlfriend.
My lovely mother who claims that i treat her like shit, when all i do is listen to her complaints about friends, family, work, and especially me.
My lovely mother whom as i sit, minding my own, yells at me to 'stop doing ..blank...!!!" something i'm not remotely even near executing.
My lovely mother who says " i don't care if your husband and all your guests at your wedding eat meat! i am not paying for anything if there is meat any where near that wedding!'
My lovely mother who forces vegetarianism and her religion on me.
My lovely mother who says constantly "you're eating agaaaain?" when i am the perfect weight for my age and height.
My lovely mother who takes more pride, and spends more money on her kindergarten students, but complains about spending money on shampoo for her daughter.
My lovely mother who took a pair of chop sticks i painstakingly painted by hand and used them as a back scratcher.
My lovely mother who critiques my artwork claiming "she has ideas that would make it better!"
My lovely mother who has the power to make me feel like a million dollars, when all i would ask is for her to make me feel like 10 dollars, makes me feel like an expired coupon.
My mother... my LOVELY mother.

Big Girl

Posted by Anonymous.

I wonder how I got here, and what is going to happen.

We started out as friends, talking for hours on the phone, until the sun came up - countless times.

You would stumble home from the bar, and speed dial me, realizing the cruelty of 20-something girls in university, and falling in love with the voice on the other end of the line - I accepted you and loved you just the way you were, your goofy laugh, your silly ego, your big dreams. You told me I was different, I was beautiful, I was ALMOST everything. My biggest problem was MY bigness. Over 200 pounds was too much to love. I promised to take care of it. You supported me.

We got past all the silliness and secrets, and were each other's firsts. It was memorable. Our physical relationship continued to be amazing. We learned it all together. It was incredible.

We became a couple - I eventually moved to your city, immediately lost 50 pounds. Despite the hardships of the first few months, we grew together, with passion and love and innocence. I worked at an awful job and survived for years. I made sure you finished school on time and succeeded. Your parents did not know about us. They still don't. Mine do, and they adore you, and even respect the mystery surrounding our secret. They don't know the reason I am a secret is because I am fat, and that your family's leash of money has kept me a secret.

My weight didn't budge past that first milestone. We were poor, the gym was too expensive, it was too hard, I gave tons of excuses. We kept it going because it was meant to be. We had time.

The time we spent was always quality - reading newspapers, discussing politics and world events, teaching each other and enlightening our minds in our spheres of influence. We were silly. We could act silly, you admired my love for animals and kids, I loved your passion for sports, your knowledge of what was happening in the world. I even indulged your delusions and comparisons to new heroes you read and learned about. I allowed you to believe their plight was similar to yours, every time. I forced you out of your comfort zone - took you on grand adventures and shared my useless knowledge of trivial things.

You eventually got into grad school, and had to leave our city, our country. You asked me to stay here, hold down the fort. Things changed, but we managed to survive all the obstacles. I saved your ass countless times. I got you through grad school. I sacrificed so much and came to visit as often as I could. Sometimes I spent the whole time cooking and cleaning and "making love." I didn't care. I would leave my whole life behind to do that forever. I love you that much. You make me that happy.

We were together or on the phone almost every night for nearly eight years. We shared every secret and fear and hope for the future. But the elephant was still in the room. Time was passing.

My inability to shed the weight has destroyed our future. It may be too late, but I am working to get rid of it now, for ME, for my health, for my own future. And now you're off playing with bleach blonde girls whose names end in "y" and "i". Because you are less goofy, more fit, and have letters behind your name, they want in your pants. And you have become vain and superficial enough to believe these college-age girls actually care.

I'd love to say that they can have you. But I can't, even though my heart has shattered in a million pieces, I won't give up on us.

Something this special doesn't happen twice in a lifetime.

That's why you still call me, for a week at a time, needing my voice as reassurance to get you to sleep at night.

That's why you still fantasize about me. You call me and I indulge you.

And I haven't told a soul the whole truth - that the love of my life has left me because I am too fat.

I haven't shared that shame with a soul, because I know that they will judge you, and some will blame me, call me a fool, or worse yet, not say anything but judge me.

Our dirty secret looks me in the mirror every day. It makes me crop photos, ashamed of how I look. It makes me head to the gym, and try not to cry, thinking about the bitch with caked-on makeup flirting with you, or worse, on top of you.

You may think you have changed, but you are still the scared goofy kid I fell in love with.

Every time I think I can move on, my heart stops me.

I am wonder how I got here, and what is going to happen.

Big Girl

Posted by Anonymous.

I wonder how I got here, and what is going to happen.

We started out as friends, talking for hours on the phone, until the sun came up - countless times.

You would stumble home from the bar, and speed dial me, realizing the cruelty of 20-something girls in university, and falling in love with the voice on the other end of the line - I accepted you and loved you just the way you were, your goofy laugh, your silly ego, your big dreams. You told me I was different, I was beautiful, I was ALMOST everything. My biggest problem was MY bigness. Over 200 pounds was too much to love. I promised to take care of it. You supported me.

We got past all the silliness and secrets, and were each other's firsts. It was memorable. Our physical relationship continued to be amazing. We learned it all together. It was incredible.

We became a couple - I eventually moved to your city, immediately lost 50 pounds. Despite the hardships of the first few months, we grew together, with passion and love and innocence. I worked at an awful job and survived for years. I made sure you finished school on time and succeeded. Your parents did not know about us. They still don't. Mine do, and they adore you, and even respect the mystery surrounding our secret. They don't know the reason I am a secret is because I am fat, and that your family's leash of money has kept me a secret.

My weight didn't budge past that first milestone. We were poor, the gym was too expensive, it was too hard, I gave tons of excuses. We kept it going because it was meant to be. We had time.

The time we spent was always quality - reading newspapers, discussing politics and world events, teaching each other and enlightening our minds in our spheres of influence. We were silly. We could act silly, you admired my love for animals and kids, I loved your passion for sports, your knowledge of what was happening in the world. I even indulged your delusions and comparisons to new heroes you read and learned about. I allowed you to believe their plight was similar to yours, every time. I forced you out of your comfort zone - took you on grand adventures and shared my useless knowledge of trivial things.

You eventually got into grad school, and had to leave our city, our country. You asked me to stay here, hold down the fort. Things changed, but we managed to survive all the obstacles. I saved your ass countless times. I got you through grad school. I sacrificed so much and came to visit as often as I could. Sometimes I spent the whole time cooking and cleaning and "making love." I didn't care. I would leave my whole life behind to do that forever. I love you that much. You make me that happy.

We were together or on the phone almost every night for nearly eight years. We shared every secret and fear and hope for the future. But the elephant was still in the room. Time was passing.

My inability to shed the weight has destroyed our future. It may be too late, but I am working to get rid of it now, for ME, for my health, for my own future. And now you're off playing with bleach blonde girls whose names end in "y" and "i". Because you are less goofy, more fit, and have letters behind your name, they want in your pants. And you have become vain and superficial enough to believe these college-age girls actually care.

I'd love to say that they can have you. But I can't, even though my heart has shattered in a million pieces, I won't give up on us.

Something this special doesn't happen twice in a lifetime.

That's why you still call me, for a week at a time, needing my voice as reassurance to get you to sleep at night.

That's why you still fantasize about me. You call me and I indulge you.

And I haven't told a soul the whole truth - that the love of my life has left me because I am too fat.

I haven't shared that shame with a soul, because I know that they will judge you, and some will blame me, call me a fool, or worse yet, not say anything but judge me.

Our dirty secret looks me in the mirror every day. It makes me crop photos, ashamed of how I look. It makes me head to the gym, and try not to cry, thinking about the bitch with caked-on makeup flirting with you, or worse, on top of you.

You may think you have changed, but you are still the scared goofy kid I fell in love with.

Every time I think I can move on, my heart stops me.

I am wonder how I got here, and what is going to happen.