I consider myself to have 2 “sets” of children. Set #1 were
born in 1986 and 1987, during my first marriage and they were about 8 and 10
when my N entered the picture. I have mentioned that my first husband was
African-American (and I am Caucasian) and we divorced a couple of years before
I met the N. I have also mentioned that he was a serial adulterer, and quite
irresponsible and that I was a depressed, controlling, unhappy woman. Neither
of us were VERY young when we married, he was 28 and I was 24…although at my
current age this seems much younger than it used to!
After our divorce, my first husband was still in the picture
although he had his own apartment. I believe that he dated other people but I
did not for a long time. We both held some level of hope that we might get back
together…although his belief in this was deeper than mine.
After about 2 years I met the N and fell “in love” (obsessed
would be a better word for what I was).
One day my N called while my first ex was visiting the
house. I had told him about a week earlier that I intended to begin seeing other
people. At that point it suddenly dawned on him that it truly was over and he
lost control. Although he had never hit me, or even threatened me, prior to
this…he snapped. He repeatedly hit me in the face with a closed fist and
shattered my nose…..with my son’s watching.
I remember that it did not even hurt (as I was in shock),
and as I stumbled into the bathroom bleeding, I saw my sons laying in fetal
positions on their bed. That was how the relationship was finally ended once
and for all. He was immediately sorry and he cried. When I went to the hospital
the police were called. They repeatedly attempted to get me to file charges
against him or at least tell them where he was. I refused to do so. I was NOT
afraid of him and fear was not my reason for failing to charge him. Even at
that time, and to this day, I BELIEVE he simply lost control. He had NEVER been
and, to this day, has never AGAIN been violent toward anyone. I could not see
how charging him would be of any use to anyone.
My N had already entered the picture at that time and I was
ripe for the picking. Depressed, in recovery from drug addiction, recently
abused, unsure of my value as a Mother and a human being and feeling like a
piece of crap. A narcs dream!
I kept the narc away from my children the majority of the
time while we were dating. They were, in large part, living with my Mother
(about 2 miles away) as I worked night shift. The arrangement worked well for
all concerned. I was close to my children but it had become the norm for my
Mother to meet their day to day needs. Even when this was not necessary, I
found that it was her preference as she DEEPLY loved my children and she really
did not want the situation to change.
During the period when we were dating and living together,
prior to our marriage, it was already evident that the N was NOT very fond of
my children. The fact that they were biracial was a problem for him (as I
blogged about earlier) but the problems went MUCH deeper than that.
Son#1 (I will refrain from using names here) was the oldest.
He had been tested and found to be gifted and he was always a little “Quirky”.
He was given to strange, intellectual pursuits and was ALWAYS the consummate
LONER. He was neither a leader, nor a follower, but held very strong beliefs
(as he still does). He was quiet and mostly passive, but possessed of a very strong
will and when provoked, a rather violent temper. He was in perfect health. We
always called him “Charlie Brown” because if anything bad COULD happen, it
would happen to him. Every toy he was given broke, got lost, was eaten by the
dog…etc. etc. When I would see that old Charlie Brown cartoon where he would
blandly look in his Halloween candy bag and say “I got a rock” I would laugh.
That was my son! We also privately called him “Urkle” because he was gawky and
kind of geeky but I dearly loved him. He was the darling of my step-father who
doted on him in every way.
Son #2 was more of a “people person”. He always hated to be
alone. While he also tested gifted at a young age…he was too busy with his
joyous pursuit of daily life to want to participate in any “gifted program”…it
was simply too much work and I did not press him to do so. His interests/talents
ran more toward the ARTISTIC (as they still do). He was a very handsome child
and is a handsome man today. While he was more passionate on a daily basis than
Son #1, he too was possessed of a very strong will and a rather violent temper
which was more easily provoked. He had little tolerance for frustration. This
son was the special love of my Mother who felt he hung the moon.
Where my children “spoiled”? I would say yes and no. They
were not overly spoiled in the sense of personal possessions but they were
greatly loved and cherished in daily life and much time was devoted (by my
Mother and Step-father) to displays of unconditional love and praise was
frequent. They were “catered to” in the sense of having few (or NO)
responsibilities of any kind.
At my wedding to the N, Son#1 (I will call him P) cried for
the entire length of the ceremony. Son#2 (C ) did not seem overly concerned or
worried about the marriage. After we bought a house in a suburban area (about
25 miles away from my Mother’s home) my N ABSOLUTELY INSISTED that the children
MUST come and live with us. At the time, I did not understand his insistence as
I KNEW he was not very fond of the children. I now know that this was simply an
issue of control. He has all kinds of reasons (excuses) for this insistence,
most of which had to do with the fact that allowing my Mother to “raise my
children” was not something a “good Mother” would do and that the children BELONGED
with us and were being “Spoiled”. In an effort to encourage bonding and the
creation of “a family unit” my Mother agreed that it would be best to go along
with the wishes of the N, although letting the children go was very painful for
both her and my step-father. How I wish now that I had not fallen into that
trap as it would come to have life altering consequences for everyone involved.
That was the beginning of the true torture that few, who have not dealt with an
N, could understand.
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