Sheesh, I laugh as I write "30 years later". Thirty years! I'm old. I'm older than 30 years later... by 12 years. Today I feel it... still no sleep but that will change soon.
Yesterday on my way out of work, I got a phone call from a woman that the Professor referred to me. She's trying to extricate herself from a verbally and mentally abusive relationship, and like me, is finding that the help and understanding extended to those who are physically abused is not so readily available if you haven't had the shit kicked out of you. She described calling one of the big "DV organizations" here: "If your husband isn't beating you with the phone *while* you are trying to call them, they have nothing for you." They referred her to some counseling she'd have to wait seven weeks for. Yup! I told her dear, you will become your own damn therapist, and you'll do a damn good job at it too. But listening to her I realized how far I've come... I'm not afraid, not helpless, I don't feel like a fool because I'm scared to death of someone who's never beat me. I *know* that I was right to fear the potential for violence, that I was right to do what I did, and I told her that in time, she would come to know that she's right. But for now, keep telling yourself that you are right to do this. I told her I'd collect some info for her and get back to her, but she seemed like she was doing a great deal of work for herself on her own, which is always a good thing.
Then I got to Poppy's, picked up the Sun and we traveled home. On the way, I spoke to Lawyer who is pretty sure that FBB will manage to dodge a bullet once again; his lawyer is going to request an adjournment based on the fact that he's new to the case... and that FBB doesn't really want a trial anyway. Of course, there's no telling what the judge will say. But it also looks like FBB won't be here; I'd happened to ask the Sun if his father mentioned seeing him next weekend, and he said "no". So when Lawyer said she heard that FBB can't afford to come (yeah right, beeatch) I said I've a feeling he's not coming.
So, hmmm... how pissed off will the judge be? Or will she remember that she said come hell or high water, there would be a trial?
Lawyer asked me what would make me feel better about settling, and I told her. Since my request is not beyond the realm of normal parenting, she said it felt doable. I'll know more tonight. But I laughed... I told her "I *told* you he'd manage to skate... this is why four years later, we still haven't gone to trial. He either fires or hires a lawyer right before and then it gets adjourned..."
Bigbear called Poppy last night, who was honored and happy to be the one to get to disseminate the latest news: She's OK, still no luggage but she bought a Chinese bra and Chinese underwear (which was my worry... it seems to me China is a nation of smaller people, and Bigbear is called that for a reason), bought her competition uniform and not to call for three days till the competition was over. Three days! Dammit!
I missed her last night because after my chat with Lawyer, she was the next person I would have spoken to. So I called the Professor instead. The Sun is forlorn; "I miss Nana" he says every 10 minutes or so. The Professor is without her other man-arm. Poppy is alone. We are adrift.
Damn shame, grown-ass women that we are...