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Chairs as a Metaphor for Control



Today I am thankful for the realization that chairs and a metaphor for control .

I am also thankful for this song.  My ex-husband posted this song to my Facebook wall.  I am upset that he hasn't moved out and feel hopeless trying to befriend other men because his presence in my life makes me a loser.  I fear he's never going to leave.  I fear the stalking won't stop.  I think the song was meant to give me comfort because it tells me that I'm not his b!tch.

Isn't that sweet?

Maybe this will end soon. 






Last week, my ex-boyfriend sent me a message on Facebook giving me 3 hours and 22 minutes to call him or he's throw out some high end folding chairs that I lent to him.  I used to use them for hosting meetings for my political action groups. 


I got the message fifteen minutes before the end of the ultimatum.


I saw that he had sent me several Facebook messages over the past week.  I never saw them.  In them, he criticized me as not wanting to be sexy, not speaking about my needs, and all sorts of other things.


I had my Facebook conversations muted.  I guess I should be happy I didn't see them.  They were very mean.


Two weeks ago, I tried to tell Steve about the stalking and he scoffed. I am happy now because I know who is behind it.  The worst part of the stalking is NOT knowing why it is happening.  I know that I see my ex-husband's family too much.  I know people he knows gossip about me and harass me on the street.  I never knew why.  He always claimed he had nothing to do with it and that they were stalking me to upset him.


Now I know it is my ex-husband.  I know his motive (to stay with me).  I know his means (he is still living here).  Now that I have that information, I can put together a safety plan.  I just wish it hadn't come at such a high cost.

This started a little over a week ago.   Our internet service went out.  While it was down, an activist going by the name of Larrisa C had made herself the administrator of a political page I run and scheduled it for deletion.  When the computers came online, I found out what she had done and booted her from my network. 

I asked my ex-husband if he knew a political activist named Larissa C. 

I watched him fire up his computer and do a search.  I was livid when I saw a picture of Steve's father (named Lawrence Y.) show up on a computer that I NEVER use.   He was logged into an anonymous Facebook account that I am not linked with.  It scared the holy heck out of me.  I started to get advice on how to get Michael out of the house.  I have a friend who is a paralegal.  He told me what to do.  I am working on it.  With this....well, I realized that I had to step everything up. 


I decided at that moment that I had to either get my ex-husband out of my house or break up with Steve.  I was getting scared. 

My ex-husband agreed to pay the phone and other bills in lieu of child support -but- he didn't keep his promise.  Now, I found myself scrambling not only to get the phones working again but to put the account in my name while maintain my online business and job hunt despite not having internet  and phone service.


That didn't help matters either.  One Friday, two weeks ago, I spend the afternoon trying to get the phones put in my name.  I had to clear up a billing matter.  I had to get my ex-husband's permission to port the numbers.  It was a living hell.  At the end of the day, I was exhausted.



Since my ex-husband was finally talking to me, I thought I would try to get my ex-husband to sign a quit claim deed and formulate a plan for leaving the house.  Six hours earlier, Steve wanted me to visit with him but I wasn't sure what was going to happen.  I arrived home from the tele/internet provider around 8:00 p.m.  At this point, I tried to get Michael to sign a legal document stating when he would leave.  I was making progress!  I was excited.  I could see my new life unfold in front of my eyes.

 I figured that the moment my ex-husband moves out, the stalking will drop.  Upon receiving four text messages from Steve asking if I was going to come to his place and predicting that Michael would never cooperate, I started to cry.  The talks between my ex and I broke down.  I told Steve 'no', I wouldn't come over because I was hurting.


Steve always said that if I simply changed my inner thinking towards a problem, I could change the situation and find a solution. I took charge.  I took initiative. I thought that trick had worked. 
 


I thought Steve and I would get to talk about it.  He never called back.  He attacked me on my Facebook page.  Then one of my friends started bad-mouthing him in private chat.  I muted all of my messages and signed out.  I did not want to hear it.



Steve started to ridicule me on his page, so I unfollowed his page.  Then he went to LinkedIn and did a little picking on me there.  I was stunned.  I took a break thinking that he'd call me when he settled down. 



In the meantime, I got a new phone number. I signed up for health insurance.  I got the kids registered for school. I started a new advertising campaign to bring in some money. 


I understood the necessity for breaking it off with Steve until the stalking ends.  I told Steve this after getting several obnoxious comments on my page.  I thought he'd call me if he wanted to chat.



Apparently not. 



On Tuesday afternoon, my ex-husband admitted to stalking Steve and told me to check my Facebook messages.


I did. 

That's when I read a message from Steve claiming that I was unkind and inconsiderate and that he wanted to call it quits so he could bring a better person into his life (that's okay).  That's when he said I owed him closure and had until 5:00 to call to get my belongings out of his house and he said that if I contacted him after 5:00 he would file for a restraining order.  I got the message at 4:45.




There was a good piece to that development.


There was a bad piece to that development.


The bad thing is that I love Steve and it hurts to lose him. But the past six months have been painful and most of the fights have been about my ex-husband being in my life too much.  I thought that if I fixed that, everything would be okay.  I so very much wanted everything to be different and my failing was trying to walk a fine line between starting my own life and not pissing off my potential stalker.  I am working on it.  I just can't work on it fast enough. 

Who the hell breaks up with a person on Facebook?  Okay...enough said there.



The good things is that I NOW KNOW that my instincts were right about the stalking.  It is my ex-husband.  He didn't deny it!  He admitted to it with being prompted.  For the first time in 22.5 years, my ex-husband admitted to stalking.  He was stalking Steve.




So.....




I don't know. 


This makes me sick. I can't hold food down. 



I'm sick. 



Some of my friends hate Steve, so they are telling me that this is a good thing.  I still don't understand what he did to them to make them dislike him so much.



After he claimed to throw my stuff out, I realized that maybe I had misjudged him.  Perhaps he wasn't as honorable as I thought he was.  Perhaps I dodged a bullet not allowing him to move in with me.


That is why I wanted my ex out of the house.  I wanted to give Steve a chance at moving in.  He was my best friend for three years.  It was only when he wanted to amp up our relationship and my divorce agreement was ignored that we began to have serious problems.  We couldn't move forward.

It was harder than I thought it would be. 


I don't care anymore.  Things will work out as they are meant to be.  I have faith. 

I KNOW who my stalker is.  I KNOW what to do now.  It makes things a heck of a lot easier. 

*****




I was trying to use the home equity to fix up the house, so it could be sold and the proceeds split.  To get the loan, I needed was a copy of Mike's driver's license because the bank needs the ID of every occupant over the age of 18.  He is procrastinating.  I realize now that I have to wait until he moves out to do get that done.



I was trying.  I was failing.  I had hope. 
They say that hope is the twin sister of try.  Both words predict failure. 
I thought I was making progress.  I failed.

Apparently all of Steve's Facebook friends knew that I said I was solving a problem but not doing it.



Why do people triangulate like that?  Why does Steve talk to acquaintances rather than me? 



******


So, today I called Steve to arrange pick up for the chairs My ex-husband (Michael) wants.  At first, he said he wanted them for himself when he moved out.   Now, I'm thinking that it is more about claiming them (or stalking Steve by having a reason to go to his home). 




So....Steve threatened to throw them in the trash.  I've gone to his dumpster three times now.  I'm going to head out there again this evening when I am sure he isn't home so I can see if he set them out in the garbage.  If he does throw them away or keep them away from me, I'll never trust him again.  I will forever be grateful that I never let this man move in with me.  That's the hard part.  I envisioned a different life with him.  It's hard to watch that die a hard death.  If he lived here, what would he have stolen of mine?  What would he have thrown away?






The chairs were not part of the divorce agreement, so I am unsure if Michael has legal standing to take them or demand them.  He's saying that he is going to call the sheriff so they can be retrieved on Monday.  I should do that, not him. I want this taken care of.  The entire situation is making me sick.

Why can't people act like adults and be honorable? 


I looked into replacing the chairs.  It will cost a little over $300 to do so.  They are blue.  I did find some on Amazon but they were $50 each (plus shipping).  I cannot find them in blue, only gray.  So, if I earned enough money to buy news ones, Michael would know they are not the originals.


I've been making myself sick over getting the chairs.  I don't want to do that anymore. 



It's not about the chairs.



The chairs are Steve's hook and his final jab.  It's his way of hurting me.  It's his way of saying that I'm garbage.  I've dumpster dived three times hunting for those chairs.  I feel like garbage. 



The chairs are Mike's desire to take something, put me in pain by causing me to focus on what appears to be my infidelity, and could be a reason to stalk Steve further. 



To me, the chairs resemble my naiveté and too trusting nature.  Depending on how this pans out, they'll either symbolize by shitty taste in men or a nasty argument with an insecure man having a tantrum. I trusted Steve.  He obviously did not deserve my trust.  

I am still waiting to see the lawyer to get the bank account dispersed to me.  I was supposed to get it on November 1, 2013.  I originally started that process with the lawyer to move forward.  That money would help me start my new life.  I wanted to start it with Steve.  Now I have to envision something else. 

Moving out of Colorado is no longer necessary now that I know who is stalking me.  The courts will allow him to follow.  I have to deal with it until he gets bored or our kids hit the age of majority.

I also feel more confident knowing that it is Michael.  He needs me to work.  It would nix alimony and lower his child support obligation.  He won't stalk me at work.  It really helps knowing who is doing it.  It really does. 

This is my fault.  I let Steve in my life before Michael moved out.  That made me a loser.  I tried to talk to Steve about it.   He didn't seem to care.  All I wanted was a timeline for Michael.  I wanted clarity.  I took a day away from Steve to get documents signed and utilities put in my name.


That's what broke us up.  I was trying to move forward when my world came crashing down.



Now, I don't know who I knew for the past three years.  It confuses me that my friend would steal my property and not let me retrieve it.  It pisses me off more that Mike wants the chairs (he didn't want them the other months they were at Steve's house).  I want the six hours back that I've spent driving to the dumpster looking for them. 




I'll call the Sheriff on Monday to see if I can retrieve them. I'm growing tired of the game.


In truth, I couldn't be as sexy as I wanted to be because I felt bizarre having my ex-husband's energy all over my clothes when I wanted to jump my boyfriend.  My house smells like my ex-husband.  That smell is in my hair, on my clothes, in the carpet, in the paint, on my computer. It is everywhere!  I wanted a fresh start.  I wanted a new life.  I just couldn't get it together fast enough.  I wanted so much to put an end to this. 





I guess it's too late to worry about it now.  With Steve gone, the stalking will end.  It really helps knowing who it is.  It really does.  Not knowing anything concrete, not having clarity, hearing crazy stories that do not mesh - it is confusing, it keeps one off kilter.  It is hard to move forward when your ground is not solid.  I finally feel like I am on solid footing. 





As far as Steve, I'm wondering how I could have been so stupid to trust someone willing to throw away a three year friendship like that.  I was trying to invite him in my life.  I just wasn't quick enough.  I am a naïve fool.  Some people will never keep their promises.  Other people can't see anything except what they want.  These are not the people  that one should count among their friends.


I am hurt by the betrayal. 

Steve did teach me a little bit about what I want in a man.  I want a man who wants a real life relationship, not a virtual one.  The next guy is going to wait a few months before announcing our coupling on Facebook.  If he goes with me to public parties, gigs, and political events, everyone will know we are together. 

I also don't want someone who reads into everything and takes offense at innocent comments and verbally attacks me or gives me the silent treatment when he is having bad days.  I still wonder if there is an alcohol issue.  I can love the man but, alas, it will have to be at a distance.


It's a shame that I broke my bass player buddy's heart.  I drove 200 miles to see him play.  I wasn't in the audience.  I didn't go to Nick's concert because I was spending time trying to work things out with Steve.  I heard every note but I wasn't a friendly face to be found in the audience.  That hurt Nick.  I pray he finds a hot love.  It hurts me to see him alone.

Alas....I'm a fool.  I broke three hearts that day.  I should have spent the night with Nick and had a conversation about round wounds and a friendly disagreement about what I consider the useless fifth string  Of course, we're both liberty activists, so we'd probably just have complained bout RINOs.  That ship has sailed.  I screwed up by following my heart. Next time, I'm listening to my head.

Anyway, it helps hearing that Metallica song......I'm not my ex-husband's bitch.  Maybe.....it's finally over.





Love ya,




S.
















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