Tales of a Bully Become Lawyer


So for the second time in one week, I had to visit the lovely walls of the Delaware County courthouse.  I do not relish these trips. They are a gigantic pain in the ass first of all. Especially because my ex whines that he is too sick to drive to court, but he’s not too sick to stalk my kid and to sit around and think up ways to be a complete and total ass. It’s very frustrating for Wee Geek and me both that he seems to always get a pass for his reprehensible behaviour.

We are used to being different and to being called out for thinking differently, but court is the one place where our differences seem to be counted as a criminal offense rather than an asset. It is the one place that we cannot seem to make any reasonable accommodations work for us. Actually in the legal system, there is no such thing as accommodations, reasonable or otherwise, for people on the spectrum. Especially since we “don’t look autistic”. I’ve been thinking alot about what that means. The phrase looms up in my mind’s eye over and over.  What does autism look like?

In my family it is 5’2″ with auburn and purple hair. It is also almost 6′ tall with curly blonde hair. We are both extremely near sighted. We both have sharp, quick, and sardonic wit that will turn on you in a moment. We both have kind hearts that are way too big for us. So in our family it looks alike and different. We both have tics. We are both terrified of specific situations especially when they involve social interactions that we are unfamiliar with. But I see in Wee Geek a much better way to adapt than I have. He is so much better at blending than I am. I am amazed at this. His wonderful ability to feel so okay in his skin and to go with it. He tells me sometimes that he feels like an imposter, but he’s not.  I see his acclimation is almost perfect. Of course, I’m still comparing him to me. So, not comfortable in this skin.

So, court. My ex’s lawyer is nothing but a big bully. I imagine that she was just this awful fat kid in school that everyone picked on and then some smartass put her in debate club. Gave her the power to argue. Taught her how to twist the truth into an unrecognizeable blob that means less than the lies that they manufacture to transform them into sharks with bullies living inside. These bullies scream to get out and beat down others to make themselves feel better.

This Friday’s events could have been solved over the phone and through email and fax with my attorney. But no, the asshole’s lawyer is a bully and she threatened me that if I did not go to court on Friday that she would have a warrant put out for my arrest. If you ever for a moment doubt the insanity of my life, think about that for a moment. Think about the massive stupidity of that. It’s no wonder that the stress of the week leading up to Friday made me call a dear drag queen loving girlfriend and beg her to be my drinking buddy for the evening. The three of us NaNo buddies ended up in a local bar. I arrived first. Walked into this bar that is not a usual haunt for me at all with about 15 people sitting inside. Warning, this sounds like a joke….and all 15 sets of eyes turned in my direction and all conversation stopped. For one brief and paranoid moment I wondered if they had been talking about me. I know it’s ridiculous. But I actually thought this, though. I texted my friend. “Hurry up, people are starting to stare.” And a minute later, “Should I put my clothes back on?” The inevitable comment back, “No, honey, it’s not your nakedness that they are staring at.” For a minute, I laughed. Ignoring the double meaning of that. Preferring to laugh it out and be happy that at least my personality still makes me stick out more than being naked in a bar. Just for the record, I was not actually naked.

So, I awoke on Friday morning, after day 5 of crappy sleep with no relief, with at least a renewed sense of being able to cope for at least long enough to get through the fight I needed to wage. I also went with the advice of my lawyer to not give the bullying whore a dime. I was determined. She came out asking me if I agreed to the deal she’d sent to my lawyer. Which was that I would give her $10 a week on top of the garnishment that they are already taking. In Indiana, the maximum that they can garnish from you for a debt is 25% of your pre tax income. Believe me, what’s left over is barely enough to live on. If I wasn’t living in a home that my husband owned with him paying all of the bills, I would never be able to live on my own. There’s not enough left over. This garnishment serves another purpose as well, it makes sure that I can baarely help Wee Geek at all. It’s a damn good thing we’re both so resourceful.

So then the bully lawyer brings a paper asking me to agree to pay $25 a week. She accused me of hiding money. I offered to get a sheriff’s officer and go somewhere so that she could document that there is not a money tree growing out of my ass. She has seen the tax returns, she knows the profit from the book is minimal. My ex is allowed to make over $100,000 a year with no consequences, and I am punished for my meager teacher’s salary. I was emphatic that I would not be signing that paper. She threatened to take me in front of the judge. I agreed that we should go to the judge. I think he needs to hear that her slime ball client kicked his autistic son out of his house into the street without a car, with no idea of where he would go. He cancelled his health insurance and now he can’t get his meds. I think a judge should hear how he’s left our child with a disability and a mental illness without meds and without a home. She disappeared and came back with a paper that basically said I agreed to another garnishment. I did not leave the courthouse until that paper said what I thought it should say.

Ex husband slime ball piece of shit that you are, I know you stalk me online. I know you read my blog. It is illegal for you to open Wee Geek’s mail. In Ohio, he is a legal adult. You also cannot keep his Cobra paperwork from him. I intend to call the insurance company on Monday and make sure that they know that Wee Geek has not received it. That’s illegal, too. Not too damn much you’ve done in the last 20 years has been legal, but we are going to have to overlook some of that. Mostly because we can’t do anything about it.

Wee Geek and I constantly are amazed at how little his father has managed to actually do for him in the last 20 years. We are flummoxed that the court system has let him get away with it and has practically given him a paved access road for doing absolutely the bare minimum. There have been several moments when he’s done even less. Wee Geek tells me little things sometimes. I already knew that his dad was making him pay for everything he touched in his life, using the excuse that I wasn’t helping out in any way. Wee Geek now realises that his dad is a manipulator of the worst kind. He is so tired of his dad getting away with being a chameleon who makes people believe his lies. It’s a little pathetic. It is history repeating itself. This is the way that his father was as well.

So, after all of that. I came home with a headache the size of Texas and absolutely exhausted. I had not slept all week. I called in and told my director that I was done out and taking another personal day. I hate using my paid time off for stupid shit. I slept the afternoon away, intermittently chatting with my girlfriend. Answering a few calls. Talked to the Best Buy guy. I still don’t feel totally caught up on my sleep, but I think that I might actually be able to get some writing done tomorrow. Maybe I can talk my girls into Bingo again this week. We had much fun last week.

This has been an exhausting week. I am done out in so many ways. I do, however, fill like I won a little something. I’m counting it as a win, anyway. Don’t burst my bubble. That would really suck. I hope that I start seeing some more winning feelings coming this way. I’m tired of the way things have been. It’s as if the asshole is trying to make sure that Wee Geek and I cannot enjoy having each other back. It’s as if he is trying to make it so hard that Wee Geek thinks he has to go back there. That won’t ever happen, but I’m sure in the asshole’s twisted little brain that makes perfect sense. He’s an idiot.

So dear reader, Wee Geek and I continue to move forward. Make plans. Live together in these parallel lines. Enjoying each other. Learning how to move in this world as a team. No longer alone. Stronger by that virtue alone.

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2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. sarahnicole8
    Mar 13, 2012 @ 06:07:56

    Just wanted to say I love your blog…and appreciate your honesty. It does boggle the mind how these drop-kicks of men can get away with so much sometimes…but I am glad that you and your son are moving forward and hope the day comes when you both don’t have to deal with this anymore.

    Reply

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