She sat behind a large desk. She was wearing her official robes of office. The black gown with a large white collar. Her face was stern – ready for the business of the day. The room was covered in warm wood paneled with lights set giving the room a warm glow. There were no windows. To the right of the judge sat the stenographer and to the judge’s left was the guard.
My ex-wife’s lawyer was directly to my right as I sat in the visitor’s gallery. I had done my research on this lawyer and she was a shark in every sense of the word and I knew I was in trouble. She had passed the bar 15 years ago and had an incredible record for frying ex-husbands. My ex was out for vengeance on a very large scale and I didn’t doubt for a second she would get it.
My lawyer I found in the yellow pages. I was short on time because my ex lawyer-ed up well before me. My lawyer had a great little office with a few partners. He cost me about $175/hour for discussions. In the end, I formulated most of my defense. I read through all the current books on judgments on divorce. Actually, I knew I was screwed well before I went to court. Because you see, my friends, the fact that she verbally and physically abused me for years matters not. The fact of all the yelling and screaming matters not. What matters are the facts. And the facts are I make more money than her and she took care of the kids for me. Okay I had a very different definition of what caring meant.
When she was laid off her job, I told her to find something she truly loved to do. This was my gift to her. I didn’t know that later this would turn up in court that I should support for the rest of her natural born life.
When we moved to a new city, she had me make a list of the pro’s and con’s. Now she is excellent at getting people to do things. She is the best individual I have seen at manipulation and integration. I often said the Nazi’s couldn’t do a better job than her. When one tactic doesn’t work she quickly switches to another, beating home, point after point. These sessions were brutal and beat me down to the point where I said to yes to everything and anything. In the final months of our “marriage” I removed everything from the house that meant anything to me. Why did I this? So she wouldn’t complain about how my artwork or anything else was cluttering up her life. It was my silent protest. Eventually anything I wanted for me, I stored in my SUV and kept it locked, never letting her in. She commented, integrated, bullied, terrorized and tormented me for access to my vehicle. I know what you are thinking, I am overstating it – no I am not. It was the very last thing that was me, contained in that vehicle and I didn’t relent and I can’t tell you why.
Her methods were simple and effective. She would ask a question, a genertic question – “When did you buy that mask?” Making reference to a mask sitting on my back seat in the SUV I did not bring in because I didn’t want to be asked about it. So having lived with here for over 13 years I knew no question from here was every simple. The interrogation could last for hours. She could out-last anybody with this method. In the end, after years of this abuse, I simply didn’t care anymore about anything. My life was easier this way. If I didn’t care, the answer to her was always yes and there was no fighting. I realized one day that I didn’t care if I lived or died, it simply didn’t matter anymore. The choice became to stay with her and lose everything that I was or am or leave. On leaving her, I knew, it would be violent. I wasn’t wrong.
I stopped sleeping in the same room with her about a month before I left. Initially, I slept in the basement, I didn’t mind – it was far away from her and it was quiet. After the first week of sleeping, something woke me up at 2am, it was pitch black in the basement but I felt someone else was there. I looked around. There she was – standing over top of me, staring at me. I had no idea how long she had been standing there. I do know a chill ran up my spine. “We need to talk”. The chill continued.
When she latched onto something like an issue, no matter how long it took, she drove rentlessly to a resolution that satisfied her. Thats the key it had to satisfy her – the answer. It was like a cop drama. You sit accused in a small room, on an uncomfortable steel chair, table in front of you, and a bare bulb is swinging back and forth over you. They (the cops) keep you in there until they break you. At that point, you would say anything or sign anything they wanted. This is what is was like with her. You reached a point in the battle, you knew you would never get your point across, you would never get her to understand, you would say or do anything to shut her up. Promise anything. I was broken.
That night in the basement, with a chill running up my spine, I said “no” and went back to sleep. And as the month wore on I moved back upstairs into the spare room. It was warmer however it was closer to her. I was gearing up for the day I would move out and it did come. I was in the spare room when she came up.
“Where are you going?” “I am leaving.” She stood there in the doorway, blocking it. I asked her to move but she didn’t. I just wanted to leave, to get the hell out of there and never see her again. But she blocked the door. I would have to go through her to get out. “I will call the police.” I intoned to her. “Go ahead.” she said. I moved towards her. I hate fighting but there was nothing else left to do. I later learned from her that she wanted me to fight her. It was her way of showing how much she loved me. Don’t try to put that together. “Please move.” Silence. I reached over to move her. This is what she was waiting for. Her eyes flared. She grabbed my shirt. We struggled. Now, I weigh a solid 200lbs and I could bench press over 200lbs and she was 105lbs and never worked out. I thought this would be easy to move her. She was giving me a run for my money and maybe my life. My shirt tore in her hands and she left deep gouges down my back that quickly filled with blood. As we fought, I was slammed agaisnt the door frame and wall several times. Later I would discover deep purple bruises around my body. My shirt was torn and with one final push I moved her out of the way. She glared at me “bastard.”
I grabbed my clothes and went for the stairs. As I went out the front door, something bounced off the back of my head, leaving me with stars.
For the next 6 months, I avoided all contact with her. I paid for everything – the house, her car, and the other bills. I ran up huge debt. But it was worth it to not see her. I eventually reached the point I had exhausted all my funds. I laywered up.
Sitting there in courtroom, 8 months later, I knew I was going to lose. I am not used to losing when I have invested so much energy in it but I knew I would. I had read all the current case law and I knew her. When it comes to fighting, she is much better then me. Besides she was angry with me and I should pay. We (my lawyer and I) lost the first 3 motions quickly. The judge was scowling at me and my lawyer, this wasn’t going to end well. I was the criminal. My ex kept her RRSP’s and any other monies. Then an interesting motion was tabled by her lawyer.
“Motion to grant $300 per month for cat support.” I shook my head – cat support? Who the fuck sues for cat support? The cat was a family pet but when I moved out I couldn’t take her because my rental wouldn’t allow it. I guess when the ex moved out of the house, her rental wouldn’t allow it. She has to put the cat up at a cat hotel and it was 3 big ones a month. Who sues for cat support? The one motion that was granted to me was this one, the judge disallowed it. Thank god.
Her lawyer pulled up the pro’s and con’s list I had made when we first moved to a new city. I had told the ex during the vacation that I had an offer to move to a new city and I wanted to take it. It was a great career move. However for the rest of the vacation, she hounded me, it was the worst, most miserable vacation I had been on. I finally agreed to do the list to shut her up. I did a list and on the list I said, “she would be totally dependant on me in the new city.” Her lawyer was now waving that document like it was the Magna Carta. Then her lawyer proceeded to pull every single birthday or I’m sorry card out and wave this as proof. I mean, who does this? All I was interested in was splitting 50/50 and going out seperate ways.
In the end I lost it all. I had to pay all the debt. She kept the house full of furniture. She was kind enough to invite me over to pick out stuff I wanted, but there was no way on God’s green earth I was going to be in the same room as her. I also got to pay child support to a significant tune. But the item that hurt the worst was I had to pay her for support. The irony is huge for me. I have to pay her for abusing me for 13 or 14 years of marriage. It took me a long time to get past that one.
But I have to thank her. After a couple years of therapy, one of the things the therapist said to me, “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” Which was a trite saying to me at the time but over time I realized that if I could survive 13 years of the ex, I could do anything. Thank you.
