I ran away again on Friday night. I threw a few emergency things in a supermarket bag and bolted while he was out in the back yard smoking. I actually did it early that morning but succumbed to the begging and came home at lunchtime. By 10pm I'm backing out of the driveway with no plan.
I went to his place. After 15 minutes aimless driving I remembered I had his key on my set. His townhouse on the other side of the city that he hasn't been back to in almost a year. It has no internet or hot water and is hotter than hades. I barely got through the weekend with two fans and and icepack. It's a lot further from my work than my place and there are bridge tolls each way but at least I'm safe from his tyrades.
He hasn't tried to get in touch, which bothers me considering what he often threatens.
This morning I have sent a VERY long email to him. I decided that someone had to call him out about the childish, irrational and menacing way he deals with everyone, including me. Someone needed to present him with a few home truths and, in consultation with his father, I decided that ultimately I was the one with nothing to lose. If he walks out on me as a result it certainly wouldn't be the worst thing that's ever happened.
A few brief exerpts:
I know you are unaware of how menacing and belligerent you sound. To try to give you some context, most people go their entire lives without having the police or an ambulance called for them, or having security escort them from a premises, or have call centre workers cry and hang up on them or have their childrens' teachers refuse to return their calls.
I have reached the conclusion that you, perhaps subconsciously, do not want a peaceful, happy life. Every time I think things are starting to run smoothly you either create a new drama or resurrect an old one. I honestly believed that by giving you a comfortable home, nutritious food, a loving ear and a welcoming heart to your children you would find peace.
The realisation dawns on me that there is nothing in my power to make your life easier if you persist with this destructive self-sabotage.
I would like you to think about how you would feel if you overheard P..... speaking to your mother the way you speak to me sometimes. If he called her stupid, or a b.. or a s... or a c.... I don't believe I am any of those things. I know you love me but that doesn't mean what it should if you are unable to treat me with respect and dignity.
I know you won't like a lot of what I've had to say, but I had to say it. You probably won't agree, you will probably think I am betraying you and persecuting you the way you think the whole world does. Sometimes, stuff happens. It just happens; no one is to blame. You don't have to live your life as if you were always a victim.
Because here is the thing my forum friends, I also don't have to live my life as if I were a victim and I realise that's what I've been doing. I've had some very long conversations with his elderly father and have been given information about his early life and when things started to go wrong. My kinda sorta father in law asked me outright if I still wanted to be living on the roller coaster in 15 or 20 years time, if I wanted to be treated like this for the rest of my life. He pointed out that I am the one here that actually has a choice where I've been telling myself for the last year that I have no choice.
I didn't want to let his parents or his children down. I didn't want to let him down. Dad says no one is letting anyone down but he himself and that they are all amazed I've lasted so long. Dad thinks I should call the police and have him evicted from my house. I won't do that.
I have proposed that I spend a few nights a week at his place so I'm not walking on eggshells with no respite and we can then see how we feel after a couple of months. I'll have to go back to mine soon as I'm at work now in weekend clothes and I've left my satchel with some files in at home as well. I'll wait and see what response I get in the meantime and will buy a portable AC on the way home tonight.
Wish me luck.
