Ready Or Not, Here I Come

On Wednesday morning, July 15th, 2009, I dropped my daughter off at the camp she was volunteering at and headed off to the courthouse, where I was meeting my attorney to file for divorce and ask for an emergency TRO (temporary restraining order) to keep Dick from spending any of our marital assets.

Totally void of all feeling, I parked my car and walked toward the building. Barely going through the motions of putting one foot in front of the other, somehow I found myself in the courthouse. As I waited for my turn to go through security, a wave of melancholy came over me. Images of standing in a similar line flooded my mind and brought back a sea of memories of what seemed (at that moment) like a lifetime ago. I was reminiscing about the previous summer when my husband, my kids and I were at the airport preparing to board a flight to Aruba for what would turn out to be our last family vacation together. What a difference a year makes. I thought how ironic the whole situation was. As I collected my purse after clearing security, I realized I was about to embark on a new journey alone... my destination still unknown at that point. All I knew was I wanted to be on a flight to the Caribbean instead.

I met up with my lawyer. We sat down at a table in an open area. He handed me a thick stack of papers. I proceeded to read over and sign the documents that would catapult my life in a brand new direction. Then we walked down a long corridor to courtroom 105 and entered the door. Immediately my heart began thumping loudly and wildly against my chest wall, sweat started soaking my palms while my hands took to shaking uncontrollably. "Get a grip of yourself," I silently scolded myself. "Calm down, breathe deeply, relax," the voice in my head coaxed my unwilling body. It was no use. All I wanted to do was run as fast as I could out of the door, down the hall, out of the building and to my car. Instead, I walked slowly through the gallery, found an empty spot on the bench in the last row and sat down. As I listened to the others state their woes to the judge, a sinking sensation took hold of my stomach and brought me to a new low. This was one depressing place. It boggled my mind to think of how many people came to this room day in day out, week in week out, year in and year out to put an end to something that at one time was supposed to be their "happily ever after." What was even more heartbreaking was that soon I would be like the others sharing details of my "irreconcilable differences." Painfully I accepted that I was about to be initiated as a new member into a club I had no desire to join.

"What am I doing here? Why is this happening to me?" Shocked and dumbfounded, I couldn't stop asking myself these questions over and over and over as I waited... and waited...and waited.

Since my case was an emergency, I was the last one to be called. Finally after everyone else had left, (a mere few hours later) it was my turn to approach the bench. Thankfully I didn't have to talk in front of an audience. I wasn't ready for that yet. Fortunately the judge approved my "TRO." A new court date was set for Monday, July 27, 2009 at 9:00 a.m.
That was it. Easier than I thought. My body slowly started to return to it's relaxed state.

My attorney then asked me what time to send a processor to my house to serve Dick with the "Papers." I told him that between 8:00 and 8:30 p.m. should be good. Instinctively my heart resumed pounding uncontrollably. I knew all hell would break loose later that evening.

Desperately Seeking Counsel

I needed to find a lawyer and I needed to find one fast. On Sunday, I spoke with a friend's daughter who is a family practice attorney. She explained the process to me, answered all of my queries, sounded very competent, was very nice and easy to talk to. The only drawback is that her practice is in downtown Chicago. I live in a northern suburb (about 30 miles away) and in a different county, which might present some challenges down the road. I also had the names of two other attorneys in my area who I wanted to consult with as well and called them up on Monday morning. One couldn't see me until Friday (too long of a wait). The other had an opening that afternoon at 4:00. I made an appointment to meet him. We talked for quite some time. He seemed aggressive in his approach as to how he would handle my case (which is what I needed). He wanted to get to court as soon as possible to file for divorce on the grounds of irreconcilable differences and mental cruelty and get an emergency TRO (temporary restraining order to prevent my husband from spending the money he took out of our account). Since I didn't have the luxury of time to meet the other attorneys in person, I hired this one. At that moment, I felt confident in my decision.

Discussing my upcoming divorce with him seemed so surreal. After all the years of wanting to end my marriage and finding a million excuses why I wasn't ready to do it, I was actually going through with this. Suddenly my mind was flooded with all of the thoughts, questions. fears and concerns that kept me paralyzed from moving forward for so long. How was I going to handle the stress of a divorce when I had so many other issues to contend with as well? How was I going to make it on my own? How would I manage financially? Would I grow old alone?

At that point I decided to resign myself to the fact that I wouldn't have to wonder much longer. What choice did I really have? In the grand scheme of things, it was time to move forward.

The Longest Weekend

From that point on I wondered how I was going to be able to look Dick in the eye and not let on that I knew anything... let alone keep myself from causing him serious bodily harm. To say it wasn't easy is a gross understatement. Drawing on acting skills I learned at Tom Thumb Players when I was in fourth grade, I somehow managed to get through the weekend. Just to clarify, it's been a long time since I was in the fourth grade and acting wasn't really my thing.

Whenever I was around Dick, I wanted to grab him by the neck, shake him and demand to know why he did what he did, (especially when my mom was in the hospital) how he could be so cruel, heartless, mean-spirited, angry, bitter and underhanded. Instead, I did everything in my power to appear calm, cool and collected and not engage in any altercations that would arouse his suspicion. I had to behave like I knew nothing and everything was peachy. I didn't want him to panic and do any more than he already had done.

There were a few close calls. One happened on Sunday night. Things quickly escalated out of control when Dick started up with me about how much money I was spending on groceries. He went ballistic, yelling at me that I used to only go to the Jewel and Walmart. Now I'm going to Jewel, Whole Foods, Garden Fresh Market, Walmart and Sam's Club. I reminded him that there are four adults living in our house and we eat a lot of food. He told me that he is only putting so much money in the checkbook and I can't spend any more than what he is putting in and that I shouldn't use the charge card under any circumstances. He then went on to say that if I want to spend more money, I better get a job and pay for things myself. I asked my husband how much he earns a year. (He's a doctor who is employed in a busy practice and earns a decent living) For the past few years, he's kept his salary a secret from me. Dick also hasn't shown me any tax returns. Our taxes were filed electronically and the accountant must have used signatures he had on file. Dick refused to tell me what he earns. He went on to say I don't have a right to know because I'm not his wife. I told him that I am definitely his wife. He told me I'm not...only legally I am. I told him that is the only way that counts.

He then continued berating me, shouting, "It's impossible to have a conversation with you. You are a difficult person and if ten people would be lined up in this room they would all tell you how bizarre you are." Then he glared at me and said, "I have a big surprise for you." I looked back and as calmly as I could, I answered, "Nothing you do surprises me anymore."

At that point, my heart was pounding so rapidly and strongly I thought it would jump out of my chest and sprint as far away from there as possible. The rest of my body thought it was a great idea too, so I got my car keys, put on my shoes and decided to leave for awhile. Dick followed me to the door and nastily said to me, "What's the matter with you? Why can't you stay in the house like a normal person? You have to leave because you can't have a simple conversation. That's why you're so impossible to be around. Get out of here and don't come back."

Before I left, I kissed my daughter goodbye and told her I'd be back in a little bit. She was watching T.V. in the family room. Unfortunately this was a scene she's witnessed way too many times in her fifteen years of life.

I drove to a mall in my neighborhood, sat in my car, pulled out my cell phone and called my friends who somehow managed to calm me down. Then I went home and got ready for bed.
Thankfully the weekend was almost over.