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I will start by telling you about my dream: In the last week of March 2004 I had a very powerful dream, a nightmare if you will. This nightmare woke me up in a cold, terrified sweat. I have since decided it was a premonition of what was to happen very soon; an omen if you will. I offer my sincere word of honor as a gentleman that the following is a true and correct narrative of that dream.
I dreamed I was at work, standing next to another employee. As we stood there what I would describe as a small, blue, sporty, family car drove towards us. As it approached, we could see it was clearly in distress because it was bouncing up and down rather severely, plus it was on fire inside. I could see intense flames engulfing the inside of the passenger compartment. Our first instinct was to help out, so we both ran to get a fire extinguisher; I quickly found one, took it down from its holder and returned to the burning car. When I had approached to within 10 feet of the passenger-side door, all by itself, it slowly began to open. When the door had opened, I saw that the flames had completely filled the inside of the car, so much so that absolutely no vehicular details could be seen inside the car at all – I saw no seats, no dashboard, no steering-wheel. There was only a solid wall of flames just inside the door and windows. I suddenly realized that these were not ordinary flames, they were the flames of hell and I was seeing into that dimension – I was seeing into hell. Next, a lean, petite woman, with long black hair, wearing a red evening dress got out of the car through the passenger-side door; she was not singed or burned, nor had she suffered any ill effects from being surrounded by the flames; she was completely unharmed. She looked at me and started moving toward me. I quickly recognized this was no ordinary woman, and what I saw was actually a demon coming out of the depths of hell – right at me! Just when I realized the true nature of what she was, she sprung at me to attack. Since this was a demonic assault, naturally I was scared and wanted to get away. I only had a split-second to react; she was only a couple of feet away. I tried to retreat and defend myself at the same time. I thought I could keep her away with a blast in the face from the fire extinguisher. When I took a step backwards, I raised the fire extinguisher’s hose and pointed it at her, just as I went to squeeze the trigger I tripped and began to fall backwards...
...Presumably onto the ground, I don’t know because right then I woke up.
I was scared to death, too scared to move, too scared to turn on the light. I lay there for what felt like an hour before I finally calmed down enough to turn on the light, when I did it was 4:00 am. I am not one who is given to having nightmares, I mean I’ve had a few, but never anything like this, this was beyond nightmare, this was a major ordeal.
Exactly two days later, my ex-wife launched another assault in her ongoing battle to destroy the relationship between my daughter and me by hiring yet another lawyer to force her issue. This legal front was a failure just as the others were. But sadly, after 8 years of slowly chipping away at the foundation of our relationship, she was finally able to convince my daughter not to come over any more. I have missed her terribly and our lives are forever changed. What she did had a massive, negative impact on both of our lives, a lot more than she ever thought about. You see, like so many other deadbeat moms, she wished to hurt me, and did she ever; but what she didn’t realize, like so many other deadbeat moms, is that by purposely hurting a child’s father means hurting your own child even more.
Near the end of our marriage, my ex-wife once sought me out in our apartment and for no apparent reason blurted out “I’ve been a liar all my life.” Another time she confessed something like; even if she knew she was mistaken, even if she knew she was wrong during a disagreement or argument we were experiencing, she would never admit it. Instead, she would continue to hold on to, and fight from, her incorrect point of view, choosing to allow the argument to go on instead of bringing it to a close which would restore some peace to the home. I suppose she said these things to attack or hurt me, which naturally they did, but they also confirmed some thoughts I’d had about her for some time. Thank you for confirming I'd been correct all along about your ongoing pathological inability to tell the truth, and your unusually argumentative nature.
The divorce proceedings were started in 1996; they went on for a long time; just over a year in fact. Just over a year to finally arrive at what would be considered a standard divorce agreement and standard parenting plan; one that could have been reached in 90 days should level heads (hers) have prevailed. All I ever hoped for was standard visitation; I was not asking for anything extraordinary or unusual; I don’t believe I delayed the proceedings. Why did it take so long then? I wonder... During that year she went through three experienced law firms to represent her. I know this because paperwork sequentially arrived from three different firms. At first the paperwork came from one firm, then it switched and paperwork began to arrive from a second firm, and finally a third firm. Why did she hire so many lawyers? Why would it take three law firms to acquire a standard divorce? I can’t prove it; but my guess is because of my ex-wife’s unreasonable anger and hostility, she was trying to use the court to keep my daughter and me apart from day one. If I’m right about this, all three must have told her the same thing; she did not have grounds for keeping me out of my daughter’s life, and based on the facts the court wouldn’t agree to it. Unsatisfied with the counsel, knowledge, and experience of multiple, highly qualified legal firms, she would fire one and move on to another – hoping to find one that would satisfy her lust for revenge. Thankfully she never did. But later I learned she even filed charges against one of her own lawyers!
Our divorce was finalized in late spring or early summer of 1997 without her being able to “scratch the itch” of keeping my daughter and me separated. The problem with this sort of itch – you know, the type stemming from ongoing anger and bitterness towards an ex-husband or ex-boyfriend – an itch not based in reality – is that it will keep rearing its ugly head and bothering someone until it is scratched… I think you know what I mean.
My story is too long to go over in detail, so I'll just share a few highlights here. But just so you know, most of the things listed on the Deadbeat Things, and Danger Signs pages are more of what my ex-wife did.
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Not long after our divorce, when my daughter was in the 1st or 2nd grade, she began to talk about her having “two dads”; one of whom was me, the other being her mother’s current live-in boyfriend (who is now a "has-been" numerous boyfriends over). At times she sounded excited about it; she verbalized it in a way that sounded precisely like her mother’s way of verbalizing things, so I knew where it came from. I tried to explain to my young daughter that she only had one dad; but when I did, I saw what appeared to be a look of confusion with some pain added in on her little face. Being sensitive to this, rather than explain she didn’t have two dads, I began to tell her about important milestones in her life that I was a part of, and how happy I was to be there at those times. I hoped this would help her understand her real father was there at those times, not some after-the-fact boyfriend of her mother’s. I shared the story of my being at the hospital when she was born, and how great it was that I was the first family member to hold her after the doctors were finished. I told her that in that moment, as I held her in my arms, she opened her eyes for the first time; and when we looked at each other, right then, from some deep place in my heart, the fact that I was a dad woke up in me. There was the story of how wonderful it was to be the guy who was lucky enough to be driving the car when she first went home from the hospital. When I saw a car that looked like the one we had at that time, I’d point it out to her and say, “When you first came home from the hospital we were riding in a car like that.” There were the narratives of how exciting it was to see her hold her bottle all by herself, and when she was first able to stand on her own, and so on… I hoped these stories would help her understand I was there, and she only had one dad. I never knew how well it worked, because the short-term live-in boyfriend moved out and suddenly the “You have two dads” message ended. But whatever negative impact it had on my daughter, whatever damage it had done, was done.
Moreover, while she was visiting me, I was "dad;" however, when at her mother’s house I was called by my first name and the live-in boyfriend was called dad. Because her mom didn’t have the common sense to discourage this practice (she probably encouraged it) this young child had to learn, all on her own, to switch gears about whom her 'dad' was depending on her location. I’m sure this caused some real confusion for her; and I bet it caused confusion in the family dynamics between my daughter and her mother (and/or others of that household) as they discussed what should be a normal, everyday things in a child's life; his or her father. To prove what I mean I share the following simple, short, but powerful example: I once overheard my daughter talking on the phone with her mom, and I heard her use my first name in a one word sentence. I suppose that was in response to the question “Which dad?” In other words “I don’t know who you are talking about, so I have to ask which ‘dad’ you indicate.” How many dads does she have? One. I wonder, how many times her mother asked that question to clarify what should have been a simple point? I don’t believe it is good for mothers encourage children to call a live-in boyfriend “Dad.” Especially when the real father is in still in the picture in a very real way. I think there could be developmental issues to some degree. Imagine the child’s thoughts: Hmmmmm, let’s see now, when I visit my dad, he is “dad”; but when I’m at my mom’s, her boyfriend is “dad” and my real dad is “His first name here.” Does anybody think this is good for a 1st or 2nd grade child to have to figure out all on his or her own? Does anybody think it will cause the child to be confused?
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Around that same time: When my visitation ended, and my ex-wife would come over to pick up my daughter, she would park her car in the parking lot of my apartment, then get out stand next to it. Numerous times there was a travel-style coffee cup on the hood of the car next to her; the plastic kind with a lid on it. I always thought that was sort of strange because she didn't drink coffee as far as I knew. But more than that, she looked “odd” standing there, like something was different about her, the way she stood, her facial expressions etc. (I consider myself qualified to say this because I had known her for about 10 years at that point).
Later I found out I was correct, she did look "odd." This was because there wasn’t coffee in her coffee cup; she had alcohol in it. She was consuming alcohol and driving with a young child in her car! How I learned was, a couple of years later, in an unprecedented action she admitted to the drinking and driving to me by throwing it out in a casual conversation, just tossing her admission out there. During that conversation she went on to say her boyfriend (the second in a rather impressive line up) tried to get her to stop this dangerous activity; her reply to him, a sarcastic “Yeah, yeah, yeah…”
As far as I knew, we were a non-drinking family; she and I had not consumed alcohol together since the early days of our relationship. To date I am still a non-drinker. However, she obviously had left her strong Christian beliefs and started drinking. Not a little bit, not a glass of wine now and then, but she was drinking enough to look "odd" to me from a distance of some 50 feet when she picked up my daughter. I would hazard a guess and say she consumed alcohol and drove with my daughter in the car on other occasions as well.
Why did she get out and put her mug on the hood? I can only surmise, but I think she wanted to flaunt her audacious irresponsible behavior to me and the world; I think she wanted to flaunt the fact that she was drinking and driving and stand there feeling "powerful" believing nobody could do anything about it. Of course that is only a guess, but a guess based on 10 years of experience. For an ostensibly adult woman to behave in such a grotesquely sophomoric fashion and to be so entirely indifferent to endangering her own life, and worst of all, the precious life of our daughter, filled me with dismay and disgust.
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I know my ex-wife was badmouthing me in front of my daughter. Every once-in-a-while a small bit of data would slip through the cracks in the iron curtain, put up by my former wife, exposing her for the deadbeat mom I think she is. In 1999 we both moved into new dwelling places. She moved into a rental house, and I moved into an old apartment building. My apartment building does look rather run down from the outside, but it's rather charming and quite livable inside. I still live in the same building today – as a matter of fact, this HTML document is being created inside the very same building! Shortly after I moved in, my daughter and I were driving home and she talked to me about how excited she was that both her mom and dad had moved, I could tell she was genuinely happy and was sharing that happiness with me. The funny thing is, she used the same words she heard her mother use to describe both of our places, she repeated her mom's terminology. Would you be surprised to know the words were positive that described her mother’s place, and they were negative to describe my place? I think she said “dump” or something like that to describe mine. My daughter had no idea that she was using an adjective that implied something negative, she only repeated what she heard from her mother. Of course I didn't say anything to her which would spoil the happiness she was feeling.
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You’re going to love this, another bit of proof my ex-wife wanted to scratch the itch I spoke of above. I can’t remember what year it was, 1999 or 2000; my daughter was over for a visit on my birthday. Our parenting plan had the standard birthday stuff in it; whichever parent’s birthday it was got to have our daughter over on that day regardless of the day of the week and all of that. Just as nearly all of our visits were we had a great time; it was a nice day.
As always, when it was time for her to go home, I walked her out to meet her mom, and as usual, her mom was there to pick her up. But this time was different, when we got outside I saw my ex-wife standing there along with another woman. The other woman said my name, I responded with a “yes;” then she handed me legal paperwork. My ex-wife served me legal papers detailing her intentions to change the parenting plan… on my birthday!
My former wife appeared to be in a state of glee; she radiated pure delight. Being able to "Stick it to me" by having those papers delivered on my birthday apparently brought on a state of pure ecstasy. I've never seen somebody so close to total rapture.
Do any of you think this was some sort of accident? Do you think she forgot when my birthday was? She had only been involved in about 10 of my birthdays before. I don't think it was an accident at all. I think she purposely planned it this way. It has been my experience that women, far more so than men, have excellent memories for recalling dates for birthdays, anniversaries, and other special occasions. Delivering paperwork to me on that specific day obviously indicated a choice to do so had made in advance. Only somebody who is trying to be vicious would do something like this.
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I wanted my young daughter to know that I loved her and thought about her when we weren’t together, so I sent her little cards and letters in the mail. I found out later that she did not get many of them. I always timed my mailing them so they would arrive at her mother's home the day before I was scheduled to pick her up for my visitation, this way they would be fresh in her mind. Multiple times when I asked her how she liked the card I mailed, she was unaware of any being sent. When they arrived, rather than give them to my daughter, my ex-wife chose to throw them in the trash. Oh, I suppose she read them first.
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I’m not 100% positive of the following, but based on my gut feelings concerning this issue I’m reasonably sure I'm correct – I fear my ex-wife placed an impossible set of double-standards for my young daughter to obey, they went something like this:
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When my daughter was with her mother, she was tirelessly instructed to not share anything about what goes on at her mother's house while she was visiting me – under fear of punishment.
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When my daughter went home to her mother after visiting with me, her mother required her to tell her all about our visit. I’m certain my daughter was asked “Are you sure…(that’s all that happened, or all you did, or what he did…), convinced that horrible things were going on.
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In other words, there was an attitude of “Don’t tell your dad anything about what we do here” and “Make sure you tell me everything that goes on over there” imposed upon her by her mother.
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I seriously wondered if my ex-wife thought that my daughter "told" me something she wasn't "supposed to," if my daughter would be scolded.
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When I realized, or began to think this was going on, I made sure my daughter knew that she was free to talk to her mother, or anybody, about anything that goes on at my home. I wanted her to know she could say anything she wanted, to anybody she wanted, so long as it was true. I do not now, nor have I ever had anything to hide over here. I told her this in hopes she would never feel fear about talking to anybody else about me.
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During my daughter's early teen years, my ex-wife added to the confusion and stress already placed upon my daughter by telling her that I used to beat her. Only a depraved mind, bent on destroying someone's relationship, would tell a hideous lie like that.
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Then there was the time, for no apparent reason, during a conversation I had with my ex-wife, which had not become heated in any way, I think she was in one of her drunken stupors because she slurred her words and spoke slowly, that she hatefully blurted out, “I’m looking forward to your death, and the way you’re going it’s not going to be long till you get there!” In essence, my former wife was saying, "I'm looking forward to the time when our child suffers the trauma of losing a parent." Sadly, because I have suffered a good portion of my life from severe depression, I did come close to death once. Incredibly, this woman, knowing full well how much anguish and grief my bouts of depression have caused me throughout my life, nevertheless chose to cruelly taunt me about a condition over which I have no control.
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Finally, to my dismay, my daughter is going through some of the problematic things that research shows children without fathers – children who have been separated from a father by a deadbeat mom – experience. Every time a tidbit of information trickles out of my ex-wife’s home, it is a bit worse than the last. Through very guarded comments or inferences made by either my former wife or my daughter, I learned the following alarming and distressing facts:
- She began skipping a lot of school.
- Her grades fell.
- She failed all her classes for one semester in the 8th grade.
- She basically failed all her classes in the 9th grade.
- She was diagnosed with the same disability I have – but nobody told me about it until much later.
- Crack was found in her system at one time.
- My daughter was visiting inappropriate websites on the Internet.
- She started exhibiting psychological problems by cutting herself.
In March of 2004, two days after the dream I shared above, I was told to stay out of my daughter’s life, forced out if you will. From that point on my once close relationship with my daughter deteriorated rapidly. When my child's and my relationship was nearly severed, I still desperately wanted to reach out and try to correct the terrible problems and situations enumerated in the list above. Yet as much as I would have liked to protect her and to aid her, I could do nothing. Even though I was her father and loved her dearly I was no longer allowed to be her father. Nothing in the whole of my life has ever caused me more sorrow.
I say to my ex-wife: You did it! Your daughter and her father essentially don't see each other anymore! You drove the wedge in! You reached your goal! After years of trying you reached your objective! You scratched the itch! You won!
How does that make you feel? You must feel proud! Do you feel contentment? Are you satisfied? Are you happy?
Now I ask you, is your daughter better off now, or when she had regular contact with me? Look at her life now, realize how far she has fallen, and then remember how her life was before you successfully completed your sinister objective. If you can honestly compare the two, ask yourself the following question: “When was my daughter in a better situation, when her dad had regular contact and influence, or these last couple of years since he has been excluded from her life?”
You ought to be ashamed of yourself.
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