Mixed Emotions

In the past 24 hours, Bo's father C1, and I have come to some sort of an agreement in regards to Bo's custody, and living arrangement. I wish I could say that it came about as easily as the girls' did, but that was not the case.

I still believe, (regardless of how often or how loudly he proclaims otherwise) that C1 is doing this, and being the coniving, pretentious, controlling, manipulative asshole he has always been, not because he believes it is in Bo's best interest, but because he is using this as a way to control and punish me.

He yelled, he screamed, the threatened, he blackmailed. He has absolutely no qualms with dragging our son through a very bitter, very ugly, very tramatic custody battle, just to get what he thinks is best for our son. I happen to love Bo enough to roll over and play dead, and take it up the ass just to prevent him from having to suffer that kind of trauma and drama and emotional battery the court battle would put him through.

C1 was completely unwilling to bend on any given point in the modification and repeatedly threatened me with "If you think this is bad and unreasonable, you should see what I could have and should have asked for. I would have stripped you of every single right in regards to my son. You would have had nothing. I'm throwing you a bone by allowing you to continue to see him and have visitation."

Excuse the fuck out of me? Your son? I was there at the hospital when that child took his first breath and yeah, I don't remember it being your belly that was laying sliced open on that operating table. I don't remember you being the one to carry that baby around for 10 months. And I sure as hell don't remember you changing all that many diapers or feeding him all that many meals. So, don't go down that road, asshole, he's not just your son. I brought him into this world. Fuck you.

And really, you're doing me a huge ass favor by allowing me to continue to see him? Let me tell you, unless you can prove that I am completely unfit (and there is no fucking way in Hell you can) you can't keep me from seeing him.

Let me tell you want I have allowed you to do. I have allowed you to brainwash him so that he can no longer think for himself. He follows your lead, and does exactly what he thinks you want him to do. I have allowed you to teach him it is ok to sit around on your fat lazy ass all day doing nothing more productive than playing worthless mind numbing video games. (and believe me I remember the days of our marriage when it was just too much fucking trouble for you to turn the video games off, get up off your lazy ass, and take a shower, for days on end!!! You were a filthy nasty pig. And now, Bo seems to think it's ok to go DAYS without a shower or brushing his teeth or his hair. UGH!) And now it seems I have allowed you one more time to bend me over and fuck me (and it's still all about you, and it still sucks for me, but it's nice to know nothing has changed since we were married) and you get your way. The only (and I stress ONLY) reason this is going through without a fight, is because I believe Bo is in such a bad place emotionally and mentally I don't want to cause more damage to him, by dragging him through a bitter, ugly nasty court battle. But believe me, If it were just you and me, I would fight you tooth and nail on every single point, to the fucking letter, and I would win, I don't give a flying fuck how long it would take.

So, where does the mixed emotions come into play? Yeah, well, there is guilt that I didn't fight harder for my son. That I in effect just rolled over and agreed to give sole legal custody of him to his father. There is also guilt in the realization that in doing that I feel a sense of relief that things at my house will be less stressful, that everyone involved will be happier. There is also relief that even though I didn't get exactly what I wanted, this albatross that has been hanging around my neck for the past month has finally been cut free and I no longer have to carry the weight of this issue around with me anymore.

I just found that when face to face with this battle, it was going to bigger, uglier, nastier and longer than I was willing to put my son through, and therefore, I chose not to pick up the sword. A part of me feels defeated, a part of me feels victorious, b/c I loved my son enough to set aside my own wants and needs and did what I thought was best for him, and that was to avoid the emotional mess a court battle would have created for him.

And so, now, it is finished, except for the technical things, like getting a judge to rule on both modifications. Once that has been done, it wil finally be completely over. But for now the fight is over and done. It's just a matter of signing the peace agreement, cleaning up the mess, and going hom.