Bankruptcy

I went in to sign my bankruptcy papers this morning. It was very difficult for me. I did not want to get out of bed this morning.

I told my ex that his dad was a cheap mother fucker and I hoped his money flames the fires of hell when he gets there.

It makes me sick that he and his family could pay off this debt, but they won't. For Republicans, they are always there with their hands out - sending their son to the State Mental hospital, asking for money to help pay for rehab, shirking this debt...

All of them make me sick. My ex hates it when I compare him to his father or his family, but they are all the same to me. In fact, he is becoming more and more like his father.

I woke up with a terrible stabbing pain in my back. I'm not sure what I did - my chiropractor thinks I slipped off my pillow or something. After I signed, they worked on me for about an hour - and I have to go back for more.

I seem to take my angst out on my body. I felt strangely calm while I was there. I know a lot of people are thinking of and praying for me. This is never a choice I would have made. I keep remembering my ex saying, "$100,000 just isn't that much money to me..."

The amount of debt to be discharged is $169,000. A hell of a lot of money to anyone sane.

My ex tried to make it out all positive like I will be starting over. I told him it didn't seem that way when this will be on my record for 10 years.

I am really sickened by his lack of responsibility in all of this. The lesson I learned is I will never entrust my finances to someone else. I knew he was being reckless. I just didn't think it was up to me because he was bringing in so much money. Legally though, that money was half mine - and the debt is too. I am leaving this marriage much worse than I came in, and that really stinks. But at least I am out.

Fucked

I am in a foul mood today. Really foul.

I just met with my husband and the bankruptcy attorney. I realize that this is the only logical step at this point, but I am just pissed off that I am in this position.

I have always been responsible with money. I have been a good wife and a good mother, while my husband was off cheating on me, blowing money and snorting cocaine and God knows what else. He risked our lives. He fucked our finances.

And I feel like his family should have stepped in and helped us. They raised him to be this way. They created this mess that I now live in. But do they do anything? No. They play golf and tennis. They sit there on their butts and make judgements about me.

They have no problem enabling his lifestyle. They have no problem paying for endless rehabs. But when it comes to the education they promised my children, or anything else, nothing.

I feel like their priorities are fucked. They are fucked.

Most of my days now are good. I have felt so happy and so free. I try not to dwell on any of this. But today, I am angry.

I know I can't (or shouldn't) expect a damned thing from my husband's parents. But I do. I would never leave my daughter-in-law in this position. I would never treat someone the way that I have been treated. All I can do now is try to erase them from my life and move on.

Someday, my children will know exactly who they are - and they will not be able to buy themselves out of that.

I am going to fix some lunch and do my Kundalini Yoga. I don't want to feel like this all day.

Leaving Home

I have been mentally preparing myself and the kids for the time that we will leave our home and move into something much smaller. I have come to terms with that for the most part. This is a large home to manage on my own, especially with the children, who need a lot of care and love - and also are prone to make messes the moment I clean something.

The irony is not lost on me that I have spent the last 2 years helping people stay in their homes, and I will lose mine.

I have spent the last 12 years helping hundreds of people improve their credit, and my credit is now tanked.

I have done all of this without cost to anyone or profit to me because it is something I believe in strongly. I used to think credit was an indication of character, and it sometimes is. But over the years I also found that many people were hit by forces they could not control, and I always tried to help those people.

Yesterday a man called to ask me to help him with his credit. I called him back and told him my grandmother was dying and I was not available. I know I am doing the right thing now, but I was also sad that I could not even refer him to someone else. I tried to explain that it was never part of my job, it was just something I did. Most mortgage brokers only care about profit.

Ironically, I also helped my husband improve his credit, which was very bad when I met him. But he seems to have no problem leaving me with this mess. He will always have his dad to bail him out and pay cash for anything. I don't have that option.

It is a hard thing to grapple with, partly because my ego is still attached to it. I took pride in my credit. I took pride in my home. And now both are gone.

But I do believe that better things will come. Credit is only a picture in time. It is never static and I can work to improve it. And I know I will be happier living somewhere else.

It's funny how losing things has shown me some of the lies I so eagerly believed.

I was so attached to my beautiful diamonds. It was so hard to take them off my finger. But now I rarely wear rings at all. I appreciate the simplicity of my fingers. I don't want another ring there. The rings now represent a false promise. My husband was never committed to me. The rings only represented that I was his. I was a possession. The rings were a reflection of him, not of me.

My children do not want to leave this home. It is all they have really known. I am sad for them, but I am trying to paint a happy picture filled with new possibilities and dreams.

I have been looking through many of the old pictures from my childhood. Some of the most comforting are of me in my grandparents home. My parents moved around after their divorce, but that home was a rock for me. I realized it was just the familiarity that meant so much to it - because it was their home and it was filled with so much love.

Unsent Letter #2 - January 2009

J,

I am not really sure what to make of anything or anyone anymore.

In Islam, when you make a commitment that is not honored by the other party, and the other party is not able or willing to fix it, you are basically absolved of your commitment.

I am beginning to feel that is the case with my marriage.

I do not have the bank statements. I do not believe I will ever see the bank statements. I don't have any of the other documents from J that we need. If I were asked the same information, it could be provided in a matter of minutes.

You can not force someone to be honest with you. Either someone is honest or they are not. J has proven again and again to be dishonest. I am not going to sit around and wait for a miracle. I'm not sure honesty is a trait you can learn at his age. You learn honesty at a young age from the example your parents set.

I have read Suze Orman's book. I have tried to stick to a budget. It makes no difference when my partner has no intention to stick to a budget and no honesty with me about his money or anything else.

I think you should hold J accountable. All the way. He doesn't have any value for people or money. Maybe he needs to lose everything to get that. I don't know. I am tired of paying the price for his carelessness though, for his disregard for all of us.

I have stayed in this marriage largely for the sake of my children, and now because I am just stuck. There has been no real indication that there is any love, compassion, empathy or anything else towards me. That being said, your grandson is now severely depressed. His counselor says that even if J does get and stay sober that it will take YEARS of hard work on his part to re-establish the trust that has been broken.

I just cannot understand how someone spends 90 days at Betty Ford at the cost of his father and his family every day, every day, EVERY DAY, and then starts drinking again. I don't understand any of it. I don't understand a father bringing cocaine into his home and leaving it right in his baby daughters' reach in the closet where she plays. We are all lucky that H is not dead.

I especially don't understand why we are all still talking about J and why we aren't figuring out how to help your grandson. Because I will be damned if history repeats itself. That is why my dad is here now every Sunday. And that is why J is now mostly called by his Muslim name. Because my son will come out of this and be the man God intended him to be. Whether or not I have to sacrifice my other ideals is now beside the point.

One ideal I will not sacrifice however is to file for bankruptcy. I will not crucify myself for J's carelessness, for debts he has every capability of repaying - just so he doesn't have to work or be stressed out by working. I have been working. I haven't had years of vacation and 5 months at rehab to play golf and sit at meetings. I have been here, working, and taking care of these children, which is the greatest and most important work, whether it provides a salary or not.

The train is now starting to move very fast. J will either have to hop on or miss it. What he does now has almost become irrelevant to me. Or perhaps I should say, I know from where we've been, where we're headed and I have just become dead to it. Perhaps J missed the train a long time ago and it is too late for him to ever catch up. Perhaps you all did.