Visions

In the car on the way to the game this weekend, I explained again to Aiden how even when things are pretty peaceful in the house, it isn't a place that I really desire to be.

"I'm sorry I'm so oblivious," he said quietly.

I shrugged. "I think I'm pretty good at putting on a smile, too," I said. "Don't blame yourself too much."

He asked what made me so unhappy. "I feel like I've spent this entire relationship being sat on," I said, struggling for the right words. "I'm a different person when Shelby isn't around. There are things I won't do around her, because I just...can't."

"Why can't you?" he asked. I couldn't explain to my own satisfaction. Some of it has been deliberate attempts by her to sit on me, when she was jealous of the closeness I have with Aiden. Some of it is me being shy and feeling like I'm in the wrong situation, like the reaction someone might have if asked to show their labia tattoo to their mother.

During our garage time on Tuesday, he asked what my image of life with him was like, how it was different. I muttered something about fun and adventures, and he asked like what. I was reluctant to answer, partly over concerns that it might become a discussion of how we could make those things happen in our current situation, and partly because I wasn't sure what specifically to say.

I think the right thing to say is this...Aiden, look back over some of the fiction that both you and I have written for each other. Now think about the small handful of nights we've had to ourselves (the ones that didn't start at eleven o'clock when I was already tired). We have only dipped our toes in the ocean of the things I want to do with you. Now, fill in the blanks.

An Answer to a Question

It's been a long few days. I went to my mom's house on Thursday night, because Aiden and Shelby had house guests, and I couldn't just go home and pretend everything was fine. Alejandra came over and hung out with us too.

On Friday morning, I left early to get back in time for my physical therapy appointment. I was sick with anxiety from the moment I woke up, but I made it through the appointment. As I was leaving, Aiden told me the guests were still there, having a leisurely breakfast. I said I would wait, and drove to the library. My phone needed a charge, though, so I had to stay in the car with it so I wouldn't miss him telling me when they left. I used the time to study, difficult though it was to focus on the book.

Eventually he told me they were leaving...and that Shelby was staying home from work. I told him that, in that case, I was not going to come home at all. I'd made it clear that I needed to talk to him and him alone before I spoke with her or anyone else. She messaged me and told me the guests had gone and I could come home, saying she had had to stay home from work because her anxiety was so bad she couldn't drive and needed me to talk to her right then. I said I had already told her that I would speak to her when she returned from work, and that was not going to change. She said she would appreciate a little more respect for her feelings and accused me of changing the plan on her, and I politely told her to stuff it, that the change of plans was hers and not mine, and I was not responsible for her feelings.

I hoped Aiden would get the idea to leave the house and find me, but he didn't, so I asked if he would. He walked up to the library and found me under the pergola in the garden. After a long hug, I handed him my phone and had him read the article about emotional abuse, followed by my last blog entry.

Long story short, he understood what I was telling him and agreed that things really were that bad. I told him I was leaving and that the choice to stay or go was his, but admitted that the selfish side of me was really hoping he'd come with me. He moved the conversation on to, "So where are we going to find a bed?" and then to, "What next?"

I told him my plan was to go home and announce to Shelby that I was leaving and why, and that how he played into that conversation was up to him. I shared my two biggest concerns, that (one) Shelby would hoover him effectively, because he believes the best of everyone to a fault, and that (two) I would follow him right back into something I didn't want, because I have a history of doing pretty stupid things to be with him.

We went back to the house and found Shelby in bed.

My end of the conversation happened exactly as I hoped it would. I said everything I needed to say and managed not to chicken out and sugar-coat anything. I told her that our relationship was over because I couldn't respect her as a person, having watched her shit all over the man I love and his kid. She took responsibility, breaking down and saying that she knows she's a terrible person and needs help and doesn't know why she does those things. She also said that maybe we should have confronted her about it.

"I have," I said, staring her in the eyes until she looked away. "Multiple times. You promised to change, and all you've done is get worse."

"Oh," she said, staring at the quilt. She offered to get help, then asked if I was leaving anyway. I told her I was, but that shouldn't stop her from getting the help she needs.

"If you guys aren't here," she said, "I won't get help. I'm not trying to be manipulative. I just know I won't. You guys are my whole world, and if you're gone, there's nothing left for me here. I won't have any reason to do anything."

"If she took a mental health vacation, would you give her another chance?" Aiden asked me.

"What is that?" I asked.

"If she moved in with her grandparents for a month and went to therapy three times a week, and really did the work she needs to do. Would you give her another chance?"

"No."

He made me repeat the "no" so many times that I ran out of willpower and couldn't say it anymore. I lay down on the bed and just didn't answer his questions. I had driven the nail home and was tired of swinging the hammer, and he just kept pulling it out and asking me to drive it in again.

"Can I take you guys to dinner and a movie, to apologize?" Shelby asked. "You don't have to accept the apology. You can just enjoy the dinner." We got Vietnamese food downtown and then went to see Captain America: Civil War (the irony was lost on none of us).

In the few days since Friday, Shelby has been putting on a flawlessly angelic performance. She stayed home while Aiden and I went to ref a game on Saturday night, and spent the evening cleaning the house. She made breakfast, lunch, and dinner for us on Sunday, something I have never seen her do before. She joined us in the garage one evening, even though we were cleaning a carburetor and stank atrociously of gasoline.

On Sunday night, she said she wanted to have sex, and I grabbed my iPod and went to bed in the spare room. After a few minutes, Aiden came and found me and asked what I was doing, and was shortly joined by Shelby.

"I don't belong in your bed," I explained to her. "It's not up to me what you two do, but you and I no longer have that relationship, and I want nothing to do with it."

"I know," she said with a sigh.

"I've never felt like I belong here," I said.

"I don't understand that," Aiden protested. "What makes you feel like you don't belong?"

"I already told you I can't answer that succinctly," I said. "We had this conversation earlier."

"I've heard you say that before," Shelby said. "That you don't fit in. I can tell that you want to be free."

Aiden asked if it was really that bad.

"When things are good," I said, "It's okay here, sure. But I don't want my life to just be okay. I want my life to be awesome."

"I know you can put on a smile and be nice to me," Shelby said, "But honestly, I'm pretty scared of how angry you are at me."

"Honestly, you should be," I said.

After a few minutes she went off to bed, telling me that I could come and join if I liked. Aiden stayed kneeling on the floor beside me.

"Please come to bed," he said.

"No," I answered. "Why do you keep asking me over and over, like I'm going to change my mind?"

"It's not that I think you'll change your mind," he said. "It's that...I think she's really trying, and if I could just..."

"...have a little more time?" I finished, and he nodded. "Because even when it's good," I answered, "I'm not happy here."

If I wait a month to see what happens, not only am I giving Shelby false hope, I'm taking a terrible gamble: 50% chance she slips and makes Aiden's decision easy, or 50% chance she makes the progress he wants to see, I'm still unhappy, and the whole thing is even harder on everyone.

He asked me on Monday if I thought he was being too optimistic.

"I have told you that about yourself, haven't I?" I said. He nodded. I let that stand as my answer, explaining to a friend in a text message later that, "If I say he's being overly optimistic, I'm just being manipulative and trying to get him to come with me."

"I find it hard to believe," came the reply, "That she's transformed from someone angelic six years ago to the person you described to me. Manipulative people tend to be that way intrinsically. As for telling Aiden you think he's being too optimistic? It's only being manipulative yourself if you're trying to persuade him. It's fair to say, That's how I feel, but you have to decide for yourself."

Shelby has been talking about things like going on vacation, getting a kitten, and letting Aiden insure his motorcycle on her policy. All I can think is, I smell a hoover. I can't judge who she was when they met, having not met her myself until several years later. What I will say is that in my experience, her number one defining quality is inconsistency. Name almost any topic, and I've heard her play both sides. She insists on one thing and a day later insists on its opposite. She makes clear statements and then denies that she said them, or questions the sanity or motives of the person questioning her. One day she loves a thing or a person, and the next day she hates them. She takes excellent and patient care of people who pay her to do so, and is a royal bitch to those she claims to care about personally. I've seen the good person, and I've seen more than enough of the bad one.

Perhaps she was different when they met. What I suspect is actually the case, and of course I am only speculating, is that Shelby put on a good performance, and Aiden overlooked any and all signs of imperfection because hers were better than Lily's. Everything I have read on the subject and everyone I have talked to have told me that abusiveness is a personality trait, and that people who have it are very good at hiding it when they feel a need. That skill is so universal that common advice tells couples who have abuse problems not to go to couples counseling, because abusers are that likely to manipulate even therapists.

I think it's an act, quite possibly one with which Shelby is fooling even herself. Maybe I'm wrong. Either way, it's time for me to go.

It's All Broken

We are nearing the end. Really. I know I've said that before - repeatedly, even - but this time I swear it's for real. Eben interpreted some of my rantings last night this way: "It sounds to me like you're saying there's this mark on the conveyor belt that's getting closer, and that mark is the end. And you want to tell them, Hey, this is happening." Yes. That mark is approaching, and approaching fast. When I hit a tipping point, I don't waste time. I jump right off the cliff.

Last week, Shelby told me that she was done with Aiden and was going to kick him out. Her tone of voice was different than usual; she was calmer, sounding resigned instead of angry. My first thought was, Thank god. Finally. It took me a day or so to fully accept my own reaction. Then I started preparing for the new future, visualizing different scenarios and how it might all play out.

Some hours into that, it occurred to me that even though she had sounded different this time, she might still go back on her word, like all the other times she's issued threats and not seen them through. Suddenly I no longer knew what I was even preparing for, but the realization that I might have just fallen for one more empty threat upset me. Not knowing what I might come home to or how to prepare for it threw me off balance.

In desperate need of a friend, I went to dinner with Eben and told him what was going on. When I shared with him some of the things that Shelby has said, he was horrified. One that particularly stuck out was when she said to Aiden, "I need my feelings validated," and five minutes later, when he tried to express his side of the story, cut him off and told him, "Your feelings don't count. I don't care what you think."

Those behaviors are unfortunately nothing new to me, and it started to dawn on me how bad that was when I responded to Eben with a shrug and the comment, "That's standard-issue Shelby."

On Friday morning, I finally found the words to tell Aiden that Shelby is emotionally abusive toward him. I pointed out some of the things that she says and does, and how those are unsupportive and nasty, and are things that no human being should have to put up with. He said he has a hard time seeing them, because in comparison to his ex-wife Lily, Shelby is better. I think that's the only comparison he ever makes. But when I compare Shelby to anyone else I've ever known, the comparison isn't favorable. She tears him down, she insults him, she orders him around, she treats him like a child, she tells him he's incapable and unworthy and a mess. She's done these things as long as I've been around. After Friday's conversation, he resolved to stand up to her more. He said he was looking forward to learning some tools to use on her.

When I showed up in the relationship, her behavior made me uncomfortable, but I didn't feel it was my place to say or do anything. I was afraid to be seen as trying to steal him away from her. Eventually they gave me explicit permission to opine on their disagreements, and I started throwing in my two cents here and there. I stood up to Shelby on my own behalf, but seldom on Aiden's, thinking that was his job and it wasn't really my business. I did try to coach him in standing up for himself, but he didn't seem to take most of it to heart, whether because he didn't see a need for it or for some other reason, I'm not sure.

I've taken a couple of opportunities to tell her that I don't like the way she treats him. She's agreed to be kinder, but it hasn't happened. Over the last two and a half years, things have gone from bad to worse. She's unstable, inconsistent, and determined to blame her perceived problems on everyone but herself. One of my own struggles has been to accept that since it's my home too, I get to have an opinion about what it's like there. The truth is, it's a war zone. I don't feel safe or relaxed there. It's not a place I can return to recharge my mental batteries or regain my equilibrium. It's a place for which I have to be fully prepared before I can enter, or I might be caught off-guard by whatever today's fresh new hell is. I tried to tell Shelby that's how it was, and she was confused.

I read an article last night that listed 30 signs of emotional abusers. Shelby demonstrates 29 of them, mostly toward Aiden and his kid. Then I read an article on emotional manipulation, and was startled to realize that those behaviors she actually uses against me: she says things and denies them later, and makes me feel guilty when I try to hold her to her word.

I have a good skill for remembering conversations with accuracy. I can quote many things that are said to me verbatim several hours, days, or even weeks later. I've used that ability to try to hold her to her word on many occasions, and her responses have varied from "I didn't say that" to "Why do you care so much what I said?" to "Do you want to be held accountable for something you said a long time ago?" I wouldn't say that it's worked exactly, because I see the difference between what she said and what she did, and she doesn't change my mind; but it has confused me greatly and made me feel unstable, because I never know what's going on or whether I can trust anything she says.

Shelby tries to force her reality on us. Aiden generally accepts it, and I generally don't. For example, when she's upset about something and he tries to state his own side, she either talks over him or accuses him of yelling. The conversation usually goes something like this:

Shelby: I can't believe you would do that.

Aiden: I didn't mean to make you feel ignored. I did what I did because -

Shelby: I don't care why. You're an idiot.

Aiden: Maybe I am. The reason I did what I did is that I didn't think about what your response might be.

Shelby: That's right, you never think! You don't care about me.

Aiden: (In a level tone of voice.) That's not true. I care about you very much. But I want you to see -

Shelby: (Yelling.) Stop yelling at me! If you're just going to yell, I'm not going to bother talking to you.

I've watched this scene play out what feels like a million times since I became part of that relationship. I've tried pointing out that Aiden isn't yelling, and Shelby usually responds by rolling her eyes and walking away.

The article on manipulation listed 8 behaviors commonly exhibited by manipulators:

1. They turn your words to benefit them. ("A manipulator has trouble accepting responsibility for their behavior, and often if you call them on it, they’ll find a way to turn it around to make you feel bad or guilty.")
2. They say something and later deny it.
3. They use guilt trips to control you.
4. They diminish your problems or difficulties.
5. They use the emotional back door.
6. They suck the energy in a room. ("They want the attention and focus to be on them, and they want to make sure everyone in the room notices if they are angry, unhappy, or discontented in some way.")
7. They use aggression or anger. ("Manipulators often try to intimidate others with aggressive language, subtle threats, or outright anger. Especially if they see you’re uncomfortable with confrontation, they will use it to quickly control you and get their way.")
8. They seek out the sensitive, insecure, or overly trusting.

I don't see #5 in Shelby - she's very forthright - and I only see subtle occurrences of #3 and #6, of a level that I would be inclined to call normal if it weren't for the very strong occurrences of the other items.

She very rarely accepts responsibility for her own behavior, and when she does, it's often with a caveat. ("Well maybe I acted a little crazy, but that's what happens when you do something like that to me.") She constantly tells Aiden that he has no problems and doesn't have a right to complain, be angry, or have feelings. He actually expressed that to me a few months ago; he felt like he was never allowed to express his feelings because he wasn't supposed to have any.

She defaults to using anger in almost every circumstance, and disrespects anyone who can't "take it." We've had a long-running argument about how we argue (oh the irony), in which I've said that I prefer to take space and think my words through and then re-approach, and she prefers to just scream about everything that's on her mind at the moment and apologize for any hurtfulness later. I've made some steps in her direction, managing not to run away when we're fighting and to say what's on my mind. But I've never been able to agree that screaming and name-calling and taking no responsibility for your words just because you're mad is an okay thing to do. It's toddler behavior, something that emotionally mature adults should have outgrown.

On Monday, the small Aiden got suspended from school for fighting. Tuesday he spent the day at home, shoveling rocks in the back yard as punishment. Aiden was home overseeing him and I was home working. Shelby was at work. When she arrived home around 5:15, it was with a nasty vengeance and a cloud of anger that she immediately spewed all over Aiden, telling him that he had punished his child wrong and that all his interactions with the school and the kid were wrong and that he was a terrible parent and a hopeless person, and it was his responsibility to control his child's behavior. She referred to small Aiden as "that THING" and demanded that he be removed from her house.

I stepped in and asked if she really thought he was capable of controlling every aspect of his 14-year-old son's behavior. I asked what she expected him to do, what he should be telling the school, how he should be interacting differently with the kid. She had very little to say beyond, "I don't know," coming closest to a useful answer with the statement, "You're inconsistent in how you treat him." Other statements included, "If he's going to act like an asshole, he should be hospitalized."

I don't deny that Aiden is a bit inconsistent sometimes. He has moods just like everyone else, and sometimes he can be forgetful. But when it comes to the reactions that an adult has to the child's behavior, I haven't seen anyone act more unpredictably than Shelby herself. Some days she's in a good mood and everything is fine, and she'll chat with the kid and play games with him and just roll her eyes when he talks too much. And then there are the other days, when she's in a bad mood for whatever reason, and she will lose her mind and scream at the kid for having the temerity to even enter a room. She has demanded several times that Aiden lock the kid into his room, and when I point out that that's abusive behavior, she says thing like, "What else am I supposed to do? If he won't control his kid, he can't live here."

Don't get me wrong, the kid is not easy to get along with. I'm not exactly his best friend myself, or a particularly good parental figure. My approach is mostly avoidant, and I have a long way to go if I'm going to be anything like a useful role model to him. But my strengths are patience and my ability to control my emotions, and I try very hard to be consistent. I'm mystified enough by Shelby's treatment of him and how it varies from day to day. I can't even imagine what it's like to be him, to have the lack of understanding that he already has about social situations because of his mental disability and then to have her alternating friendliness or stream of bile directed at him, with no way to ever know which one is coming. Kids with regulation disorders need consistency, and she gives him exactly the opposite, and then demands to know why he isn't fixed yet.

She eventually walked away from the conversation and went to do some gardening. Aiden curled up on me and looked sad, and I asked what he was thinking.

"I felt like I did okay today," he said. "Until she came home. And now I feel like I did everything wrong."

"If you feel like you did it right," I asked, "Why should she be able to come in here and tear you down?"

"Because I know there's room for improvement," he said. "And now all I can focus on is the twenty percent I need to improve."

He asked for feedback on how he had stood up for himself in the conversation. I said that I could see progress. He said that he was looking forward to fixing Shelby by standing up for himself. I had no response to that, but having since read the articles I mentioned above and discussed the issue with Bruce, who's a mental health worker, I have some more insight.

Abusiveness is a personality trait. There is no excuse - not stress, not provocation, not childhood, not anything - to treat another human being like Shelby treats Aiden. Abusers can improve their behavior, but it takes not only a lot of time, but a genuine recognition and acknowledgment of their wrongdoing, a deep desire to change, and individual therapy. Aiden just deciding that he's going to argue with her is not going to change how she sees him or how she behaves towards him and his child.

So this is how we've reached my breaking point. I have a right to a house in which I feel safe. I have a right to a relationship that's supportive and loving, not destructive and stressful. I can't abide the status quo anymore and I will exercise those rights.

If you're asking why I don't just walk already, here's the catch. I want to help the boys. I'm better equipped in both offensive and defensive weaponry. Their shields are not nearly as strong as mine, and if I just disappear and leave them in this situation, I will feel like I failed in my duty to take care of the people close to me. I'm past the point where I could support Shelby in an attempt to change; as far as I'm concerned, she's been given a huge number of chances to change and has passed them all up. I'm out of energy to live under her emotional cloud or even to care much about her at all, except for the well of anger that I'm harboring about how she has treated one of the men I care most about in the world. That anger, however, can fuel quite a lot of protective energy to put between her and the boys. I'm perfectly willing to walk into the fire and take the burns for them.