I don’t even know what to say.
I am so tired of how low the bar is for men who are fathers.
I’m so tired of everyone referring to my kids dad as “a good dad”
He’s not. He’s not. He’s a drunk and he’s abusive and I fought like hell for full custody only to get denied because he never abused the kid, only me. He put on this whole noble dog and pony show about going to rehab and getting better “for the kids” and pretended to be remorseful and everyone buys it but it’s an act and no one believes me.
His rehab was a JOKE. Private chef making three meals a day, staying in a freaking mansion, saying all the right things. He got out and went right to the liquor store.
And now he gets to see the kid every other weekend. Except he doesn’t show up. Or he doesn’t pass the pre custody sobriety requirements. It’s four months in the year, he’s had two visits.
He saw her last weekend and everyone is fuckin fawning over him, cooing about how much our kid loves him, and saying how he’s such a good dad to her. Because he took her to a fucking Applebees, and let her have ice cream. That’s the bar.
The worst part is how many people knew. My dad knew that he locked me out of finances, my dad knew he was drinking and screaming at me all day, my dad knew that he when I needed an emergency surgery that he locked me in a room alone like a fucking prisoner and wouldn’t even help me get up to eat or use the bathroom until I “stopped faking it”. My dad knew that he threw me into a fucking wall in front of our kid.
And he told me I was being dramatic in leaving, that I should go back, that I broke up a family for nothing, that he knows my ex husband is a good man and that if I hadn’t been a “sensitive drama queen” and told my husband I was unhappy “like an adult” that he knows my ex would have changed.
My mom was the only one to believe me, she showed up and she got me out and she took care of me and kiddo when I couldn’t get out of bed.
It’s been two years since that. Two years of rebuilding, of panic attacks, of anxiety.
Two years ago, in the last week of April, was the last time I had a stable home.
He hasn’t quit drinking, he still texts me vile abuse, and I still have to see him at custody exchange, if he bothers to show.
I want to feel free of this rage, I want to scream and scream until I can’t anymore.
But I have to wake up every day. I have to go to work. I have to get a kid to school and make sure kid is cared for and loved. I can’t scream and rage and fall apart because I am needed.
But no one ever say “you’re such a good mom”. That’s just my duty. And I don’t even know if I need to hear it. I just need to keep saving my money, for a home for us, for another expensive round of court and lawyers in hopes that this time will be the time they say that kiddo doesn’t have to go back.
And until then, I’ll just keep hearing it. “He’s such a good dad and (kids name) loves him so much”
He’s not he’s not he’s not.