I made a comment an another blog yesterday, about how I didnt care who read my blog because I didnt care what people thought. This is true. I dont give a rats ass what you think of me.
I *do* care, however, when someone I have deliberately and with good reason removed from my life somehow finds (or is given the address of - and I'm looking at you, other in-law family members) this blog and reads it. Silently. Like a stalker. With intent.
She's even reading it right now. Yes, she is. Peering in through the windows from the bushes. Getting ready to phone me in a muffled voice and say "I know what you did last summer".
My mother in law.
In her narcissistic self-righteous wisdom, she decided 3 years ago that it was perfectly acceptable to take my children away from me, without my permission (I was begging you not to, do you remember that Anne?) and against my husbands express desires (he said only if I was completely ok with it, remember?) And then, then, she refused to acknowledge that she had done anything wrong whatsoever. There was nothing to be discussed, nothing apologised for.
After many attempts at resolution and much pain, we cut her out of our lives, out of our childrens lives, to protect ourselves from someone who didnt care about anyone but herself, didnt care how much hurt she caused others. We have had no contact for 3 years, apart from unwanted cards arriving. Token jestures. The worst kind.
Today, an email arrives for my husband. "I've been reading Sharon's blog. Want to talk?"
My husband doesnt read my blog. What the fuck makes you think its ok for YOU, of all people, to read it?
How long has this been going on, Anne? Have you gone through all the archives? Did you enjoy reading the bits about my cerivcal mucus when I was trying to conceive? What about Ella's birth story? Did it make you stop and think you could have been more supportive at the time? Did you smirk to yourself when I was in hospital, detoxing from alcohol? Have your suspicions about my being an unfit mother, an unstable crazy woman, been confirmed by my ordeal on various medications for my "mental illness"?
Did you read the bits about suicidal ideation and think letting me know via your son that you are reading this would push me over the edge? Give you a window of opportunity? Are you salivating at the thought of a divorce?
Does violating a person make you proud, make you feel good about yourself? Because that is what you have done, as sure as a Peeping Tom violates the person they prey upon. Did you used to read your children's' diaries too? Open their mail?
You have violated me. Again. You took my children and now you have taken away the one thing in my life that was safe and good.
Never again can I write in this blog, this sanctuary from the mess of my life, and be safe from the people who wish to do me harm. Maybe that is exactly what you want.
What possessed you to go down this road and read something that you know damn well I would never give you permission to read? What have you hoped to gain? That your son would suddenly forget everything you did and come back to the dysfunctional fold?
ITS NOT GOING TO FUCKING HAPPEN.
You have gained nothing from your disclosure. You merely confirmed what we already knew about you. You will never get what you want. Never.
I might have a mental illness, but I'm not crazy.
