Going Under Cover

Move over Nancy Drew. There's a new girl in town. You better watch out, Susie Cohen is making her debut as the undercover detective who stops at nothing to stay one step ahead of her two-timing, no good, deceptive, rotten louse of a soon-to-be-ex husband. (and that's putting it nicely) Honestly it's virtually impossible to stay one step ahead. How can I predict what Dick is going to do when he probably doesn't even know himself? Realistically I need to just stay vigilant so I'm not caught off guard and fall too many steps behind. How do I accomplish this? With very sophisticated espionage techniques I've picked up along the way.

As "James Bond-007" as that sounds, there's nothing advanced about what I do. It just sounds good and makes me feel better to say it. (Give me a break... I've had a rough few months here. I'm entitled to a little self-indulgence once in a while.) So what are my top-secret methods? I just rely on my gut instinct and follow whatever my inner voice tells me to do. It's worked great so far. Maybe one day the Discovery Channel will do a documentary about betrayed women like me and how we survive in our own versions of the wilderness we're trudging through, trying to exist day to day and fighting tooth and nail to make it out alive. Okay, enough of this melodramatic crap. Even I realize I'm going way overboard now.

In order to come out a "winner" in this divorce game, I need to uncover all the classified information that Dick is trying to hide from me. I have to stoop pretty low and dig down pretty deep. And I'm proud to admit that I do stoop very low these days. I need to know exactly what Dick is doing and is planning to do to protect myself and Marni. Or so I like to believe. This divorce has become a full time gig while simultaneously making me totally insane. I'm alert and on guard 24/7. Without a doubt, the longer this process drags on, the more I'm becoming an obsessed, neurotic, paranoid lunatic. (and that's on a good day!) If that's what it takes, so be it. I'm ready, willing and able to do whatever it takes to put Dick in his place. Look out world. The new and improved, tough little cookie Susie Cohen is ready for action.

From here on out, it's a fight to the finish. May the best woman (that would be me) win!!!"

Revenge Is Sweet

I was so incredibly proud of myself for what I just pulled off. When I stopped to think about it, this was an amazing coup. Not only did I get to confront "the other woman," but I did it in such a way that she had to have gone back and told Dick what happened. When she did, there was absolutely nothing he could say to me. (I would have loved to have heard the conversation that took place between the two of them after my call.) Following that, if he would have confronted me and told me that I should stay out of his business, my response would have been, "I don't know what you are talking about. You told me that you didn't recognize the name on the caller I.D. and it was a wrong number. Anything he could have possibly responded would have screwed him even further.

The beauty of the whole situation was that Juanita knew I knew all about her; Dick knew I knew all about them; they both had to deal with the fallout from my phone call; and I came out smelling like a rose. For the first time since this whole fiasco started, I was enjoying myself. My mom always told me, "When life gives you lemons, you have to make lemonade." I'll drink to that. Here's to the first of many!

Growing Balls... Hopefully Only Figuratively!!!

When I went back to Josh's room, ( my temporary abode) I immediately called back "the other woman." Her answering machine was on. "Thank goodness," I thought to myself, because if she would have picked up the phone, I really didn't know what I would have said to that *#@ch. I went back to bed attempting to get some rest. Who was I kidding. Could anyone honestly sleep after experiencing what I just did? The images kept replaying themselves over and over in my mind. I tossed and turned for what seemed like hours and hours. All that late-night aerobic activity was wearing me out. In my sleep-deprived state, I began to ponder what the caloric expenditure of restless sleep was and if any scientific studies were done on this. Maybe I stumbled on a new work-out plan. I made a mental note to investigate this further when time permitted. I could really be on to something. Anyway, at some point, without realizing it, I dozed off.

Jolted by the blaring music which usually reliably got me up on time, I was startled to see the time on the clock. Darn!!! I jumped out of bed, rushed into Marni's room, woke her up and told her that I overslept and would have to drive her to school so she wouldn't be late. While snarfing down our breakfast, I asked her if she heard the phone ring in the middle of the night. She told me she didn't, but informed me that my talking woke her up. Great! Not only did Dick's new main squeeze have the chutzpah to invade my space, now Marni was blaming ME for disturbing her sleep. I just can't catch a break.

Leaving the dishes in the sink, I rushed back upstairs in a dazed stupor to gather my purse and keys. Dick stepped out of the bedroom, looking very well rested and casually asked me why I was taking Marni to school. I told him that I was woken up by his friend's phone call at 1:00 in the morning and as a result, I wasn't able to sleep too well the rest of the night. He replied, "You mean the wrong number." I couldn't believe how cool and in control this guy was. "No, it was no wrong number unless you mean she called the home phone instead of your cell phone," I retorted, trying to match his level of arrogance. When am I ever going to learn not to fall prey to his attempts to engage me in conversation. It's never in my best interest.

After this brief tete a tete, the three of us made our way downstairs. Anxious to get me out of the house, my not-soon-enough-to-be ex practically pushed me out the door and locked it behind me. What was he trying to do? When I returned home, it became obvious. After I walked in the door, immediately I ran over to the phone in the family room and checked the caller ID. Just as I suspected, he deleted his girlfriend's information. What a sleaze ball. So much for the call being a wrong number. If that were true, he would have left the phone alone. It was a good thing I decided to write everything down the night before.

No time like the present to introduce myself to the "good doctor." My attempt proved futile. Once again greeted by her voice mail, I knew I needed to block my name and number from appearing on her phone, so she wouldn't know it was me calling. Not remembering how to do it, I decided to do a quick google search on the subject. In less time than it took to write this, I learned that if you dial *67 before the phone number, your personal information won't show up on the caller ID. (*Reading all those Nancy Drew mystery books when I was a pre-teen was finally paying off. Unfortunately my level of expertise as a sleuth was still at a juvenile level)

Like a tiger stalking it's prey, I watched and waited patiently for the ideal time to pounce. I went in for the kill the next evening. It was Saturday night. Marni was at a party. Dick was having dinner with a friend. I had the house all to myself for the next few hours. With shaking hands I dialed *67 and then her number. BINGO. It worked life a charm. She picked up the phone.

*"Dr. Corazone," she calmly announced. (*Her name has been changed to protect me!) "Juanita?" I asked, addressing her by her first name. There was silence at the other end. "Who," she asked. I couldn't believe she actually said that. Is she for real? "Isn't this Juanita Corazone?" I questioned again, developing a sudden surge of power. "Who is this," she queried. "This is Dick Cohen's wife." I firmly responded. "Who?' she repeated. "Your friend, Dick Cohen, the doctor from Chicago... his wife. Come on Juanita, you know exactly who he is," I stated forcefully and unemotionally. After a pregnant pause, she finally said, "I have nothing to say to you." "That's fine," I riposted. "There's something I have to say. You called my home at 1:00 in the morning last Thursday and woke my daughter and me up. Whatever you have to discuss with MY HUSBAND (technically he still is) please call him on his cell phone and not disturb my family." To that she replied, "He called me about a position out here and this is the number that appeared on my caller ID, so I just responded back to this number. There is a time difference between where I live and you do. That is why I called so late. I'm sorry." What a stupid, lying, cocky idiot, I thought to myself. I held everything back from saying to her, "What position were you two planning to discuss...missionary or doggy??? Actually, I wanted to share with Juanita that Dick's favorite position is standing in front of a mirror admiring himself, but she can discover that on her own. What kind of a fool did she take me for? (Okay I probably shouldn't even go there... after all, she is involved with my husband.) The reality is that NO professional would call so late at night to discuss business and if they didn't realize the time, they would have had the decency to respond when the person answering the phone kept repeating, Hello....Hello..Hello, instead of not saying a word. She was one unconvincing liar. No wonder she and Dick hit it off so well. They are like two peas in a pod. Controlling this conversation, I wrapped things up by saying, "In the future, whatever you need to discuss with MY Husband, please do so on his cell phone and not disturb my daughter and me. This is our home. Please respect that." She said that she would honor that request and we hung up.

The Plot Thickens

If you wait long enough, sometimes you get lucky and things start to reveal themselves . Or as Forest Gump classically said in the movie by the same name, "Stupid is as stupid does."

A few weeks after Dick threatened me to quit dragging out the divorce or I would see what would be left after the smoke clears, a very interesting thing happened. Or should I say another interesting thing happened. Yes... there really is never a dull moment in the Cohen home any more!!!

Dick is a known gadget junkie. He's like a little boy that always has to have a new toy to make himself happy. Having a Blackberry wasn't good enough for him. He needed the latest technology... the new phone that was hyped up for months and months as being far superior to the Blackberry. Needless to say, Dick was one of the first to purchase it.

Since we are now separated but still living in the same house, Dick decided he didn't need to share the news about his latest acquisition with me. (As he frequently reminds me, "We are getting a divorce. I don't have to tell you anything anymore.") However, one night, while I was in the bathroom in my bedroom (that Dick has now taken over since I moved into Josh's room), I heard a very strange noise. I couldn't figure out what it was. As it continued, I followed the sound to Dick's new phone which was charging up on his night stand. I guess the phone wanted to make its presence known to me.

There was a call coming in. I looked at the name and almost fainted. It was the women who I suspected was involved with Dick for quite some time. After doing my research on her a few months back, I discovered she resides on the west coast, is a medical professional with a very lucrative practice, is divorced and lives in a very affluent neighborhood. On the surface, she had everything Dick looks for in a woman...MONEY!!! What surprised me about her was her religious background and her nationality. Oh well...I guess you can't have everything in a relationship. At this stage of the game, what matters to Dick is they are compatible in the most meaningful way... she is financially well off and and he wants her to support him in the lifestyle he'd love to become accustomed to.

A few hours later I went down to the basement to put a load of clothes in the dryer. I noticed Dick down there, sitting on the couch, watching television and talking to someone on his new cell phone. Quietly and in a pleasing tone of voice (one I haven't heard since we were dating) he was telling someone about the high school Marni goes to and how well they prepare the kids for college. I thought to myself, "He better not be discussing MY daughter with THAT woman." When he realized I was in the room, he quickly scurried himself back up to his bedroom, locked the door and continued his conversation there in a hushed tone. His secretive, sneaky, rodent-like actions catapulted my healthy overactive imagination into high gear. Under normal circumstances, it puts in occasional overtime. With things the way they currently are, it's working 24/7. Although, can you really blame me?

Gosh darn it, my instincts were right on the money. At one o clock in the morning, I was woken up by the home phone ringing. I don't remember where I first learned this from, but it's common knowledge that any call after 10:00 pm is bad news. It's either a death, illness or other catastrophe call. At this late hour, I knew something was majorly wrong. After losing my father last year and with my mom's health iffy, I was preparing myself for the worst. I jumped out of bed, raced over to Josh's desk where the phone was and nervously glanced at the name on the caller ID before answering the call. I was mortified by what I read. It was HER last name. I let the phone ring a few times to see if Dick would answer it. He didn't... so I did. I said, "Hello." There was no answer but I could hear people speaking the foreign language I learned in grammar school and high school in the background. Angry at myself for not comprehending more of what I heard... after all this IS the second unofficial language in the United States...I strained to make sense of what was being said. Not making heads or tails of the background discussion, I decided to focus on the person who initiated the call in the first place.

"Hello....Hello....Hello, " I repeated a number of times without a response. Not getting any answer, I finally hung up. Quickly I wrote down the phone number and made my way to where Dick was sleeping. As I entered the room, I caught him putting our bedroom phone back in the cradle and attempting to get back into bed. Nailed that scumbag!!! "Does this name look familiar to you, " I said, as I advanced rapidly toward him displaying the lit up caller ID close to his face. He looked at it and nonchalantly said, "No." "Stop lying to me," I responded. Referring to her by her first name, even though only her last name appeared on the phone, I continued, "I know you are lying because **** called you on your cell phone earlier tonight. How stupid are you to give out our home phone number to this woman and how stupid is she to call our home, especially so late at night." He didn't answer me. He just laid there on the bed. He turned his face turned away from me and wouldn't say a single word.

It's worth repeating, "Stupid is as stupid does."

Where There's Smoke... There's Fire

Dick is becoming quite the traveler. On Sunday, October 4th, he returned from yet another "business trip" to the west coast. Ever since I filed for divorce, these jaunts have become a regular deal. I'm still trying to figure out what kind of work requires him to get a body wax before he leaves and demands that he pack his swim suit, sun screen and tennis racket.

The following Tuesday evening, while I was in the kitchen washing the dinner dishes, Dick came up to me and asked if we could talk. He then added that he didn't want to argue with me. I asked what he wanted to discuss. He said, "Do you want to end this already or do you want to keep dragging this thing on and on? My attorney sent your attorney two requests for discovery and he didn't get any response. We could keep extending this 30 days here and 30 days there or we can end this right now if you will only cooperate with me." I replied, "You have the nerve to talk to me about dragging anything on and on when you placed numerous phone calls to your lawyer about a loaf of bread that wound up costing a small fortune." He said, "Forget the loaf of bread." I told him, "I can't forget that loaf of bread. You made quite an issue over nothing. If that is your answer, then this discussion is over. You have your attorney who is advising you and I have my attorney who is working with me. I have told you repeatedly that after you took the money out of our account behind my back, I have nothing more to discuss with you. As I've said many times already, I will only communicate with you via our lawyers." With that, I went upstairs. He came up right behind me and said, "You're impossible to talk to. " I went into Josh's room and closed the door. Marni was in her bedroom. Dick stood outside the door and yelled, "If that's the way you want it, you're going to see what's left when the smoke clears."

Thankfully the door was closed and he couldn't see how badly I was shaking. My heart was pounding so loudly, I'm surprised the neighbors didn't call complaining about the noise. Not daring to leave the room, I wondered what Marni was thinking as she listened to Dick's threat.

My New Home Away From Home

September 23, 2009.

Back in court again. Today was a completely different experience from my previous visits there. Instead of appearing in front of our judge, Dick, his attorney, my attorney and I met in the courtroom conference room. The goal was to try to come to a temporary financial agreement. This was the first time I met Dick's attorney and the first time the four of us sat down together to talk. Even though they didn't have place cards at the table, it was obvious there was a seating arrangement planned for this occasion. I wondered if there were etiquette rules governing courtroom gatherings. Did Miss Manners develop socially accepted conduct for divorcing parties? On my side of the table was my attorney and me. Opposite us were Dick and his attorney. Dick sat facing my attorney and I sat looking at his. My charming husband and I were as far apart from each other as possible while still occupying the same space.

As soon as we got situated, Dick's attorney turned to him and said, "Don't you dare bring up the loaf of bread." Immediately, I smiled to myself as I realized how annoyed Dick's attorney must have been over his immature behavior. However, the humor was short lived as the rest of the meeting was no laughing matter.

During the course of the next few hours (yes, time flies even when you are not having fun), every time my lawyer proposed an offer to Dick, without batting an eye, he immediately refused. His attorney would then take Dick out into the hallway, discuss the matter and return. This meeting could have been an aerobic session for the two of them. That is how much they were up, down, in and out of the room. At one point, completely frustrated with him, Dick's attorney said, "I'm going to take him out in the hall and beat him up." I looked at him and said, "Promise?" Flustered , he looked at me and adamantly said, "No, I don't promise." During that sojourn out into the corridor, my lawyer looked at me and said, "He has no patience for him anymore." I thought to myself "How was I able to put up with this malarkey all these years?"

As time was going by and nothing was getting accomplished, Dick's attorney finally said, "If we don't come up with a reasonable solution soon, we're just going to present the case to the judge and let him decide. Not long after that comment, we worked out an arrangement. Dick had to give me more cash every two weeks to be used only for gas for my car and my entertainment expenses. Starting that day, Dick was required to pay for all of my other expenditures (something he has never done during our entire marriage). He was ordered to put enough money in the checkbook to cover all of Marni and my bills. Mad as all hell, he turned to my lawyer and said, "She needs to get a job like every one else and pay for these things herself." My lawyer gazed at him. Quietly and calmly he said, "We're trying to get Suzie the lifestyle she should have been living."

The order was written up, signed by all the parties and presented to the judge. We had to try this arrangement for 30 days to see how it would work out. I had my doubts that it would. I knew that Dick would probably spend down the money in the checkbook so I still wouldn't be able to buy what I needed. But I had to give it a shot. My lawyer told me that if things didn't work out, I wasn't bound to this agreement permanently just because I signed the document.

As I left the building to go home, I couldn't believe what I saw. Dick was withdrawing money from the cash machine near the entrance of the building. I had to do a double take to make sure I was seeing correctly. Dick was always unyielding in his stance against using ATM's. Yet here he was using one and he was no novice at it either. It became obvious to me now that he was hiding money in another account. Since there was a restraining order prohibiting him from taking money from the account which had our (supposedly) life savings, he definitely had access to a different source of funds. Where, how much and for how long were questions that were racing through my mind. With a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, the reality hit me that I had no clue who this person was that I was calling my husband all these years. What else was he doing behind my back that I'd be shocked to discover?

I'm Tired Of Playing This Game

Just as I had expected, my joyful, carefree relaxed feeling ended abruptly as soon as Dick came home following his jaunt. Without a doubt the ambiance of our home suddenly took on a cool, unwelcoming, unfriendly air. It was unmistakable. I've heard that people emit their own positive or negative energy fields. Dick's aura has to be in the sub-zero zone. Whenever I get too close to him, my blood turns to ice. Trust me, it's true. Experiencing it firsthand is uncanny.

Renewed, refreshed and recharged from his recent excursion, Dick was raring to go. He wasted no time in picking up where he left off prior to his departure. I knew things were too good to last. I just can't stand how brief the respite is between his unending, maniacal malicious attacks. I'm well aware that these bouts are his rush... his drug of choice. Putting others down, outsmarting someone else, getting away with something he shouldn't brings Dick to life. He craves this need for power and control. For far too long, I've been his favorite target, and an easy one at that. He knew he could do whatever he wanted to me and get away with it because he didn't have to account for his actions to anyone. Thankfully that's all changing now.

Throughout the years, I've often wondered what occurred in his childhood that would cause him to become such an angry, bitter, rage-filled, mean-spirited man. Always so secretive about his past, Dick built an impenetrable wall around himself that was impossible to scale. After a while I gave up trying and caring. To stay sane, I also built a protective fortress around myself. This relationship that the two of us shared required way too much energy, work and fortitude. It drained the life out of me. I was completely spent and I wanted and needed him and his venom out of my life. But I still had a long way to go before that would happen.

Like a preschooler, Dick loves to play games and makes up his own rules changing them at whim to guarantee he is always the winner. His latest escapade was to order me around with demands for food and other items that he expected me to buy for him with the money he was required to give to me. While he was busy conjuring up outlandish requests, I kept telling him if he wanted something, then he should have gone out and bought it himself. Without fail, this set off major verbal sparring matches. Neither one of us won and the level of communication, respect and civility declined several notches with each incident. Even though I was in the court and Dick was not, he adamantly tried to convince me that he knew exactly what the judge meant by ordering Dick to give me cash for spending money and my lawyer and I had totally misunderstood the situation. Luckily for me, he was more than happy to enlighten me.

And he tried to educate me on several occasions. There was one particular incident that took the cake for farcical behavior. Dick decided that he didn't care for the loaf of bread that I bought and in no uncertain terms, told me which bakery to go to, what variety I needed to find for him and when I should pick it up... because, as he put it, "That was what the judge ruled. I was supposed to buy all the food and necessities for the house with the money he gave me to do so." I outright refused. Dick was not used to me disobeying him. He went ballistic. Regardless, I stood my ground. I did not buy him what he wanted. As a means to retaliate, he placed umpteen phone calls to his lawyer regarding that loaf of bread. His legal fees for those repeated phone calls cost a a lot of dough. When all was said and done, he learned that I was supposed to have access to the checkbook all along. For the first time in his life, he was losing at his own game.

The Calm In Between Storms

After Dick left for his business/Labor Day Holiday vacation, I could honestly sense a change in the air in our home. There was a lightness, calmness and an overall feeling of peace. Maybe it was because I knew he wouldn't be breathing down my neck for the next several days and I would be free from his sneakiness, manipulative actions and controlling ways. In any event, I was enjoying whatever it was that I was feeling. Five whole days without Dick!!! I was like a kid whose parents were going out of town and would have the place to herself.

While I had no wild parties planned at our home, I was looking forward to an event coming up on Saturday. Friends of mine, who I lost touch with several years earlier and recently reconnected with, were having an open house at their vacation home in a neighboring state. I was happy that Marni made plans with her friends to go to a local holiday festival that day so at least I knew she would be occupied while I was gone. All of a sudden I was getting a taste of what being a single mom was going to be like... an introduction to my new emerging status.

On Saturday afternoon, after I dropped off Marni and her friends at the event, I drove over to another friend's house. She and her husband offered to take me to the open house, so I wouldn't have to go by myself. Sitting in the backseat of their car, I suddenly felt alone and lonely. This was the first time in 26 years that I was going to a party without my husband. Even though Dick and I hadn't gotten along for a number of years , there was a level of comfort in knowing that we would have each other at social events. This was my first "solo" experience. Sadness crept in and accompanied me the rest of the ride. When we got to our destination, I felt the melancholy start to lift. My friends' home was right on the lake for which this popular resort town was named. Over the years, Dick, the kids and I would come up here for little getaways or just to spend the day. I always wondered who lived in these homes and now I was actually partying at one. A crowd was already there by the time we arrived and immediately I got caught up in conversation. The group meandered out to the dock and spent a leisurely afternoon enjoying the weather, food and drink. The view from the backyard was breathtaking. Before dinner, my friend's husband took a few of us out for a boat ride around the lake. I was having the time of my life. Sitting around with old pals and new acquaintances , enjoying a sumptuous Italian spread of salad, pasta, lasagna, roasted vegetables, crusty bread, wine and rich-mouthwatering desserts, while sharing lively conversation and non-stop laughter, I was beginning to get a taste of what my new life could be like. By the same token, it hit me like a Mac truck, what I was missing for way too long, how much I put up with and how deprived I've been of all the things that mattered the most to me: good friends, companionship, happiness, a feeling of belonging and fitting in and most important of all, being surrounded by people who made me feel alive and appreciated. Getting a divorce sure put a new perspective on things. I started to realize that much better things are waiting for me out there, once I get through all the crap I'm dealing with now.
All in all, it was a great day... the first one I had in far too long.

The Party Was Over Before It Even Got Started

When I left the courthouse, I was floating on Cloud Nine. For the first time since this whole mess started, I had something to finally be happy about. It actually felt like the tightness in my neck muscles, which I affectionately refer to as "my noose that has been strangling me since my wedding day" was finally loosening up a bit. For a brief period of time, I was one happy camper. However, I knew better than to think that Dick wouldn't try to screw things up somehow. He was not going to let me enjoy any victories whatsoever.

And just as I had expected, he didn't disappoint. When he came home from work in the early afternoon, he was in a foul mood, changed his clothes and stormed out of the house. A few hours later he returned. I was in Josh's room, which is my new "home away from home," when Dick barged in holding the checkbook in one hand and an envelope from the bank in the other. Sensing this was not going to be good, the tension began rising in my body as the noose around my neck resumed its strangling grip. With the look of sheer loathing in his eyes, Dick stared at me and said, "Here is the cash I am supposed to give you. I want you to count it in front of me to make sure that it is all there." I counted the money and told him that indeed it was the right amount. Waving the checkbook at me he said, "Now you know that you are no longer allowed to use this." "That is not true at all," I answered, fully aware of the sudden surge of the stress hormones that were flooding my system in anticipation of the battle that was about to be waged. "Oh yes," he continued. "I talked to my attorney three times today and she said that since I am giving you cash, you are no longer permitted to use the checkbook. In addition, this money is to be used for groceries and necessities for the house." I responded with, "That is not what the judge said at all. I was in the courtroom and he specifically said that there was not enough money in the checkbook to hold me over for the next several days. The money you had to give me is in addition to what is in the checkbook, not instead of what is there." I continued, "He never said I was now responsible for food and other items." This exchange erupted into a full-blown altercation. When the dust finally settled, Dick took the checkbook, hid it and left for his trip early the next morning.

My Day In Court

Josh was settled back at school and Marni was already caught up in her new routine as a high school sophomore. Labor Day, the unofficial end of summer was right around the corner. As I was rushing out the door with Marni one evening about a week before the holiday, Dick casually announced to me that he was going out to the west coast the following week on business and if his friend was going to be in town, he would stay at his house for the extended holiday. He sure had a knack for timing ... telling me this as I rapidly passed him by. I asked him when he would know how long he would be gone. As usual, he refused to give me a direct answer.

This whole situation made me very nervous. I knew he was up to something. I wasn't comfortable with his travel arrangements and secrecy surrounding his plans. Even two days before his trip, he still wouldn't tell me when he was coming home.

Around this time, I places several calls to my attorney, expressing my concern over the situation as well as the lack of funds Dick was planning on leaving me with while he was gone. With no access to the money market fund and having been taken off the credit card, I had to rely on the money in the checkbook. There was not enough in there to hold Marni and me over until he returned from his trip. My attorney notified me that we had a court date about a week after Dick returned. I told him that was too late. We needed to see the judge before Dick left. Fortunately, my attorney was able to get us in as an emergency.

We were back in court on Wednesday, September 2, 2009, the day before Dick left on his trip. After I entered the building, made my way through security and found the courtroom, I was amazed at how familiar this place and all the personnel, lawyers and other clients were becoming to me. What shocked me most was how much my perception of the whole experience changed in such a short period of time. It wasn't that long ago that I trembled at the thought of being a part of this process. Now, this was just a normal part of my new reality. I guess you really do get used to everything over time.

Because we were put on the schedule at the last minute, my regular judge wasn't available and we were seeing a new judge in a different courtroom. My lawyer told me he didn't know how things would turn out since this wasn't our regular judge and this one might not consider my situation an emergency. Dick wasn't there. His attorney wasn't either and sent a young, female associate in his place. As I sat waiting for my name to be called, I listened to the others ahead of me state their issues. Based on what I heard, I decided I liked this judge. When our case was called, the three of us approached the bench. My lawyer shared some background information with the court and asked for temporary funds for me. Dick's attorney said that the money situation was like this for several years, her client paid all the household expenses, it worked out well and there was no need to change anything. The judge asked me how much spending money Dick gives me per week. I answered him. He asked how much money was in the checkbook. I told him the amount. He then asked how long that money was supposed to last for. I told him for the next 10 days. At that point, he turned to Dick's attorney and said, "She can't live on that amount of money. Tell your client that he has to give her this much cash today." He then turned to my attorney and asked if we had another court date set up for temporary financial support. My attorney told him we did and they verified the date. We thanked the judge and left the courtroom. For the first time in a long time, my spirits were lifted and I felt good.

Take This Job And Shove It... A Trilogy... Part III

Emancipation
A Trilogy

Part III: Airing Out Dirty Laundry
or
No Tickee... No Washee

I was on a roll. There was no stopping me now. It was time to sever all domestic ties to Dick by no longer doing his laundry and ironing. This was a biggie. Dick never washed a load of clothes his entire life. He never learned how nor did he have any intentions of mastering the skill. Before he married me, he lived at home. His mom took care of everything for him. After we got married, I unknowingly took over the role of "mom." I found out way too late that the guy who became my husband was not a man. He was a spoiled boy who refused to grow up and take any responsibility for himself. The reality was, he wasn't raised to. His parents believed they gave birth to the Almighty and complied with all of his commands, wishes and desires. They worshiped him, praised him and felt that everyone else should bow down to him as well. How lucky for me that I had the privilege, honor and distinction of being able to serve him and cater to his every whim for over 26 years.

As they say, all good things must come to an end. Thankfully, even the bad things eventually come to an end as well. My tenure as Cinderella would be terminating in the near future. In the meantime, I still have to deal with my equivalent of the evil stepmother and stepsisters. (Dick and his family) So, if I am Cinderella, is my Prince Charming on his way to rescue me? Will we live happily ever after??? A girl can dream, can't she???

Getting back to reality, things got very ugly, nasty and vicious when Dick realized that his laundry was not getting done anymore. He made this discovery when he went down to the basement one day and astutely noticed that the only pile of clothes down there was his dirty belongings. After several days, he asked me if I was doing his laundry. I told him that from now on that was his responsibility. He blew a gasket. Madder than I ever saw him, his face contorted into an evil grimace. Rage filled his eyes as he announced to me that this was the last straw. Again he promised me that I should wait to see what was about to happen to me. As he stormed out of the house, went into the garage and was about to get into his car, I followed him and said in as forceful a tone as I could muster, "Are you threatening me?" "Are you threatening me," he repeated sarcastically. "That is all you ever know how to say." "That's because that's all you know how to do," I yelled back as I slammed the door.

He really knows how to rile me up. By now I should know better. If only I would just ignore him and let him go on and on without responding. Until I learn how to keep my mouth shut and not react, he'll keep on harassing me. He knows exactly how to lure me in. Stupidly I keep falling for it. One of these days, I'll finally get it right.

Back to the laundry issue, things got very filthy. (pun intended) Dick was relentless. Since I was not obeying his orders, demands or threats, he was determined to drive me crazy. One Sunday, a few weeks after I stopped taking care of his clothes, he almost succeeded. (Since Dick refused to wash his own clothes, he brought it to his 87-year-old mother to do.) He had a pile accumulating in the hallway. After I took a shower, I noticed that Dick had changed his towels in the bathroom, but his used ones were not with his other belongings in the foyer. My towels were at the bottom of my laundry basket. Could Dick have been so petty as to put his in with mine. After emptying out the basket, I saw that was exactly what he did. So I proceeded to take his out and put them on top of his pile. I left the bedroom and went downstairs. When I came back up, again his towels were gone. Again I checked my basket and again they were in there with my towels. Once more I took them out. Once more they were back in. This went on and on. What the heck was he trying to pull? When we were finally together in the bedroom, I took out his towels, threw them on his bed and told him that I was not washing his things and to keep them out of my basket. Dick yelled back, "You don't want to do my laundry, don't do it. I'll put it wherever I want to." I was ready to tell him exactly where to put it. Instead, before I caught myself, I said to him, "Do you think I'm stupid?" He answered, "That's a matter of opinion." Okay, I know I set myself up for that one. At that point, I took my basket down to the basement. Later in the day, his towels magically appeared in the basket in the basement. When I got around to washing my things, I left his towels on the floor. They must be really comfortable there, because they haven't moved from that spot ever since.

Take This Job And Shove It ... A Trilogy... Part II

Emancipation
A Trilogy

Part II: What's Cooking?
Nothing Anymore... The Flame Died

After Dick refused to change his sheets, I nervously waited for the day he got paid to see if he would continue to give me my "allowance" or instead cut off my cash supply. Thankfully he "showed me the money." I breathed a sigh of relief. As much as he ranted and raved, my world didn't fall apart. I challenged him and again I took control over the situation.

It was becoming crystal clear that since I filed for divorce and my home life was now being exposed to our attorneys, judges and the court system, Dick was gradually losing his abusive, controlling grip over me. He didn't like it one bit and was doing everything in his power to keep me submissive to him. However, as much as my husband threatened, yelled and belittled me, he now had to account for his actions to a higher power (so to speak). Finally, the tide was starting to turn in my direction. It was such a relief to talk about what I lived with on a daily basis, be listened to, acknowledged and told this was wrong and I would get the help I needed to get out of this mess and have a life of my own. For the first time in my life, I felt validated. For the first time in my life, I felt hope. For the first time in my life, I felt that the future was mine to live the way I was intended to and not what everyone else expected me to. For the first time in my life I felt that I would finally be free.

It was time to take another step forward. While all these positive feelings were starting to emerge, they still couldn't hold a candle to the almighty, powerful fear that still tightly gripped my spirit. But I knew, at this point, there was no going back. I had to face my demons in order to slay them and be rid of them once and for all. Unfortunately,I was getting totally burned out from the non-stop stress I was under. How I wished I could have put a pause button on my life so I could take a break... a breather to recharge, refresh and reward myself for how far I've come in such a short time. Regrettably, it was not going to happen. Life was moving at a faster and faster pace.I still had so much more to deal with, challenge and fight for.

So, less than a week since I stopped changing Dick's sheets, I decided to hit him with another whammy. It was time to stop preparing his meals. This was a tougher call than the bed issue. I didn't know how he would carry on in front of Marni and how she would react to this new change in the status quo. True to form, the first night I set the table for two instead of three and made enough food for just "the girls," the baby (my husband) threw a major tantrum. It was really quite pitiful to watch a grown man act like a toddler. Boy, did he carry on. Fuming and yelling, he made quite the scene at the kitchen table. "Did you make me dinner tonight?" Dick questioned me as Marni and I started eating our food. "No," I answered, knowing that while I was chewing my food, was probably not the best time to be having this conversation with him. Trembling internally, I was convinced I was becoming the first human Cuisinart. The contents of my stomach were rapidly churning into something that was not going to be visually pleasing, appetizing or mouth-watering. Suddenly, the thought of eating was no longer appealing. "Let me get this straight," continued Dick. "You are only making dinner for the two of you and not for me." This guy is definitely swift. You can't put anything past him. "That's right," I answered. "If that's the way you are going to do things, just wait and see what's going to happen to you," he admonished me. "Whatever," I managed to reply. You'd think I'd be used to all of his bullying by now. Even after all these years, he still knows how to goad me and even worse, I still fall for his bait.

In the long run, not making Dick meals anymore didn't bear too much weight. Over the past few years, he ate out more often than not and rarely joined us as a family for dinner. But, when he was home, he expected to be served his food when he was ready to eat. This was a guy who knew how to have his cake and eat it too.

Take This Job And Shove It ... A Trilogy... Part I

Emancipation
A Trilogy

Part I: The Way You Make Your Bed Is The Way You Lie In It...
No Sheet!

As the youngest of four children, I was raised to do what I was told. So the fact that I married someone who loved to tell me what to do actually isn't surprising at all. I was in training for this marriage my whole life. It was what I knew and what I assumed was normal and natural. I'm not saying it was comfortable, what I believed in or what I wanted for myself but it was definitely familiar.

From the onset of my marriage till recently, I cleaned, did the laundry, ironed the clothes, ran the errands, cooked the meals and when the kids were born, I took care of them as well because Dick said this was my responsibility. Not once was there ever a "thank you," an acknowledgement, show of appreciation or gratitude. Instead, it was expected and assumed that I would handle all of these chores, whether I was working outside of the home or not. As Dick frequently reminded me, "What's the big deal. So you take care of the house. It's not like you do anything else all day. If it wasn't for me working, making a living and paying the bills, you'd be out on the street."

Help of any kind was obviously out of the question. Anything that would make my life easier or would benefit me in any way was about as likely as my winning The Publishers Clearing House Sweepstakes. Needless to say, as much as I hoped and prayed, no one ever rang my front door bell with a bouquet of flowers informing me that I just won a major jackpot and my life would soon change for the better.

When my friends asked me why I continued to put up with Dick and let him push me around the way he did, I told them that they didn't understand what it was like living with him. He made all the rules, did what he wanted whenever he wanted and I had no other choice but to go along with it. Fear played a major factor in my being submissive to his constant demands. Throughout our marriage, Dick promised me that if I thought being married to him was bad, I should try to divorce him and see what would happen then. He'd make sure I'd have nothing. When I gave up my career to stay home with the kids and lost all sources of income and a means to support myself, the fear of being penniless and homeless kept me bound to a man who treated me like I was the rug at the front door to wipe his feet on and step all over. He had no respect, nor did he care about me at all. After being treated like this for well-over two decades, my self-esteem, self-confidence and self-worth were shot to hell.

This should explain why a month after I filed for divorce, I was still changing the sheets on the bed that Dick slept on, doing his laundry and ironing and making his meals. That and the fact that he threatened to not give me the $75/week he claimed he didn't have to, (which was supposed to pay for all my personal expenses.) but generously did out of the goodness of his heart kept me from rocking the boat.

I was told by my attorney as well as everyone else, to stop doing everything for Dick. I was not his employee and we were getting a divorce. I decided to live dangerously and take a baby step by not changing the sheets on Dick's bed. When Dick saw that I left his bed unmade, you know what hit the fan.

Coincidentally, this latest outburst happened the night before Josh went back to school. There is definitely a pattern going on here... I filed for divorce the day before Josh's 21st birthday and I didn't change Dick's sheets the day before Josh left for college. I wonder what the significance of all this is. I'm sure one day I'll figure it out. For now, I've got far more pressing issues to deal with.

Like an animal that stalked it's prey, Dick waited for the kids and me to all be together in the same room before he pounced. Going in for the kill, he confronted me with, "Aren't you changing the sheets on my bed?" "No," I announced. "Why not?" he continued. "Josh changes the sheets on his bed, Marni changes the sheets on her bed, I change the sheets on the mattress I'm sleeping on and you can change the sheets on the bed you are sleeping on. I'm not your employee," I replied with a hint of defiance in my voice. "Oh really. Now you're going to pick and choose what you do. Then I don't have to give you money anymore," he replied. "One thing has nothing to do with the other," I answered, feeling the tension and tightness quickly begin to grip the muscles in my neck, back and head as the volume of my voice raised. "Wait till you see what happens to you next," he vehemently threatened. Seeing where this was going and not wanting the kids to witness yet another major confrontation, I walked out of the room and out of the line of fire. Dick was pissed off big time. I was a nervous wreck. I anxiously wondered what his plans for retaliation would include.

In a minuscule way, this capricious act of refusing to change Dick's sheets felt liberating. The shackles binding me to him were ever so slightly starting to lose their grip.

As they say "All great journeys begin with a first step."

Words To Live By

Several years ago, while out dancing with Dick one night, the D.J. played the song, "I Will Survive," by Gloria Gaynor, For some reason, instead of mindlessly gyrating to the beat of the catchy melody like I frequently did when I was caught up in the rhythm, I felt compelled to seriously listen to the words being sung. At that moment it seemed like Gloria was personally reassuring me that I would be okay and that Dick would not succeed in bringing me down, making a nothing out of me or destroying who I am.

Since then, a few of the verses have become my inspiration, motivation and mantra. When things are unbearable, uncomfortable and downright unlivable, they keep me fighting, picking myself up, dusting myself off and believing that much better things are out there waiting for me.

These are the words I live by...

First I was afraid
I was petrified
Kept thinking I could never live
without you by my side
But I spent so many nights
thinking how you did me wrong
I grew strong
I learned how to carry on
and so you're back
from outer space
I just walked in to find you here
with that sad look upon your face
I should have changed my stupid lock
I should have made you leave your key
If I had known for just one second
you'd be back to bother me

Go on now go walk out the door
just turn around now
'cause you're not welcome anymore
weren't you the one who tried to hurt me with goodbye
you think I'd crumble
you think I'd lay down and die
Oh no, not I
I will survive
as long as i know how to love
I know I will stay alive
I've got all my life to live
I've got all my love to give
and I'll survive
I will survive

It took all the strength I had
not to fall apart
kept trying hard to mend
the pieces of my broken heart
and I spent oh so many nights
just feeling sorry for myself
I used to cry
Now I hold my head up high

YES... I WILL SURVIVE!!!

The Vicious Cycle

Marni needed a new bicycle. She outgrew her old one several years ago. Since Dick controls the money, it was his decision when she would get one. However, he always had a multitude of excuses why it was never the right time. There's no money now...She never goes riding... There's no money now...She doesn't need one...There's no money now... She has no time to ride... There's no money now...She has too much homework.... There's no money now...It's too early in the season...There's no money now... It's too late in the season... There's no money now...

Amazingly after the divorce proceedings were announced, Dick was ready to take Marni bike shopping. As usual, I was not included in the excursions. Only after they picked out a model they liked, was I told that we were going back to pick it up in my car because it would fit in my trunk.

A few days later we returned to the shop only to discover that the one Marni picked out had already been sold. We were told that a new shipment was coming later that week and a brand new one would be available. After looking at the floor sample, I realized that the bicycle would not fit easily into my trunk and mentioned that we should buy a bike rack. Dick totally dismissed what I said. He adamantly insisted that the bike would fit fine in my trunk. An argument between us immediately ensued. At that moment, it was more than obvious to anyone around us that we had major irreconcilable differences. It was also more than obvious to me that Dick was not putting out an additional $50 for a bike rack.

Fast forward a few days... no new bikes came in. After checking several of their other locations, I was able to track one down in a suburb about half an hour away. Marni and I drove out there, made the purchase and asked the salesperson to load it in my trunk. After several attempts, he wasn't able to fit it in and strongly recommended that we purchase a bike rack. Duh!!! Because Dick only put enough money in the checkbook to cover the bicycle and I no longer had access to the credit card, that was out of the question. So a decision was made to remove the front tire and maneuver the frame into the trunk. Due to the shape of the handlebars, the door wouldn't close around it and had to be tied down. As we drove, the trunk kept banging down repeatedly onto the handlebars. Each nasty thud simultaneously reverberated throughout my body causing me to hate Dick more and more. When we arrived home and removed the bike from the car, there were several scratches all over the shiny new metal on the handlebars. My heart sank as I looked at Marni and her damaged new vehicle. To make a lousy situation even worse, no matter how hard Marni and I tried, we were not able to get the front tire back on the bike. The brake mechanism was broken.

I then called the shop asking for advice and assistance. I was told to bring the bike back and they would fix the brake. Knowing without a doubt that was not going to happen, we had to come up with another solution.

Dick said I should just find a friend who has a van and ask them to take the bike back for me. I told him to find a friend who has a van and he should ask them to take it back for him. This sparked World War III.

Marni wound up giving me $50 of her money to buy a bike rack. The next day I went back to the shop and bought the rack. When I came home and tried to put the device together, I wasn't able to open the clamps. A few days later, Marni and I decided to take the bike and the rack back to the store. I had a brainstorm that we should lower the back seats of my car, put the bike in through the rear door and adjust the rest to fit in the trunk. As Marni attempted to squeeze the cycle through the door, I noticed the handlebars were getting stuck on the leather trim on the door frame. I also noticed as Marni continued to guide the bike into the car, there were fresh gash marks surfacing on the leather trim. Totally losing it at this point, I had a major meltdown. Shaking like a leaf, swearing and yelling like a lunatic, I was convinced I was going to have a nervous breakdown in my driveway. Somehow Marni managed to extricate the bike from the car and we forced it back into the trunk along with the malfunctioning bike rack.

Once again, we were on our way back to the shop. I was really starting to hate the store, this bike, Dick and every other person, place and thing that caused me pain throughout my life. At the same time, my heart went out to Marni and all the negativity she had to deal with in her young life. When we finally arrived at the store, magically things began to improve. We were given a brand new bicycle, the technician in the shop fixed the bike rack, installed it on my car and fitted the bike onto the rack.

Looking back on this whole fiasco, I knew that all the problems Marni and I encountered would have been avoided if Dick had bought the bike rack in the first place. As usual, not only could he care less, he was happy to see how miserable I was. He was getting some sick pleasure watching me fall apart. Worse yet, I knew he had a lot more plans for making my life a living hell up his sleeve.

The Best Gifts...

A few weeks earlier, Dick decided that the five of us--- Dick, Josh, his girlfriend, Marni and I--- should go downtown for Josh's 21st birthday celebration to one of the finest restaurants in Chicago which is also known to have a worldwide reputation as well. It is quite expensive, very romantic and boasts a wonderful view of the city. I took Dick there for his birthday several years ago. Quite frankly, when I heard where he decided Josh's birthday dinner should be, I was quite surprised. It seemed a little over the top as well as inappropriate for a family birthday party considering this wasn't the norm for how we usually celebrate.

The day before we were supposed to go out, Josh came to me very upset and angry. He said that we should cancel the dinner reservation because he wasn't in the mood to celebrate with this family. He ranted and raved about how his life was ruined by his upbringing and thanks to us, we spoiled everything for him. As he continued on and on, feeling more and more sorry for himself, I heard enough and had to put this pity party to a halt.

I proceeded to remind Josh of all he has to celebrate and be grateful for, making sure he realized that not only did he survive in a home that was difficult, if not unbearable at times, he thrived. I pointed out that he is intelligent, hard working and focused. I continued on that he is in the honors program at a Big Ten University, vice president of his frat and currently working at an internship which will probably lead to a job right out of college. These were all accomplishments he should be very proud of and he's worked very hard to be in the position he's in. I made it clear that he was not raised on "cruise control," nor did he get to where he is on his own.

As the words flowed from my mouth, I went on to say that no one's life is perfect. Everyone has something that they have to deal with. He's not the only one. That's life. Some families struggle with illnesses, financial difficulties, job loss, death of close relatives, children with physical, emotional and/or psychological issues, divorce and even combinations of these problems simultaneously.

On a roll, I told Josh that sometimes the best gifts come wrapped in the ugliest packages. While I would have loved nothing more for him and Marni to grow up in a home with two parents who loved each other, that was not the case. It wasn't the life I imagined for myself or for my kids. However, if anything good could come out of this situation it would be that he learned how not to treat people he loves and cares about and to make sure that he is involved with people who respect him and support his dreams, goals and life. If at any time, he finds himself with someone who replicates what he grew up with, he should end that relationship as soon as possible.

I told him that if anyone should be happy, grateful and feel that he has something to celebrate, it should be him. He has his whole life ahead of him, a bright future and a sense of what is important in life He's been through enough already to know not to take people for granted or take advantage of them. I told him he was lucky to learn that early on. I think I got through to him.

When all is said and done, the birthday dinner was successful. It was a very pleasant evening. The food was outstanding, the company was wonderful, conversation flowed easily and a good time was had by all. Most important of all, Josh appreciated all that's right in his life.

The Cost Of Love

Josh is a lot like me. He doesn't keep his feelings bottled up inside. If something is bothering him, he lets everyone know about it. So I wasn't at all surprised by what happened next.

After the "Congratulations" remark, Josh immediately turned to Dick and said, "If you ruin my birthday dinner Saturday night, I will never speak to you again." Dick loudly and angrily riposted with the following backlash, "Don't you ever threaten me. Because of me, you don't have any college tuition to pay for. I've bought you everything you wanted over the years. This is the thanks I get after all I've given you." Not once did it occur to Dick to question why Josh would feel that he would ruin his birthday by something he would say or do. A heated argument quickly escalated between the two.

Unfortunately, Dick equates how much money he spends on the children with how wonderful a father he is. He tries to buy their love and affection with material possessions. Consequently, if the kids have a difference of opinion or want to do something that isn't what Dick wants, he lays on the guilt heavily and thickly.

We're Getting A Divorce...Take Two

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Today was my court date to have the temporary restraining order turned into a permanent injunction. I dropped Marni off at camp in the morning and headed straight to the courthouse. After I parked my car, made my way into the building, put my purse in the basket to be scanned, stepped through the security threshold and found my way to my courtroom where I was meeting my lawyer, I was amazed at how much easier this process seemed to be than merely a week ago. When my name was called, we approached the judge's bench. My attorney made his request and it was immediately granted. Piece of cake!

What a waste of a perfectly good Xanax!!! Now if the rest of the day would only go this smoothly.

Dick and I decided that tonight was the night to let Josh know about our divorce. After all, Marni, my immediate family, ALL of my closest, not so closest, somewhat and extremely distant friends, and complete strangers knew. (I'm not quite sure who Dick told at that point) It seemed only fitting that our son should also be filled in on the news. When Josh finally came home--- after spending the day at work and dinner with his girlfriend---Dick told him there was something the four of us needed to discuss. So we sat down in the family room and Dick proceeded to go into a whole long spiel. As he rambled on and on talking in circles about things he's brought up ad nauseam over the years, nervously I smiled to myself as I realized that the ball was finally set in motion.

For the first time since I got married, (engaged actually) there is a light at the end of this tunnel. At this point, it's a very dim flicker of a light at the termination of an extremely long, dark, ominous tunnel, but nevertheless, it's faint glow is definitely visible!

Tuning back in to the conversation, I heard Dick finally announce that we are getting a divorce. Josh's response, "Congratulations. You two should have done this years ago."

Who's Life Is This Anyway?

When I was younger, every time I heard stories about women who had no clue how to manage their finances or knew anything about their assets, I was always amazed. "What idiots," I used to think to myself. "How can any woman today not know where her money is, how much she has and who is managing it? "

Back then, one thing I knew for sure was I was not turning out like that. After all, I had too much going for me. I was a strong-willed, self-sufficient young woman, with a Master's Degree and a good career. I might have plenty of other concerns, but this wasn't one of them. No sir, if I had to bet my life on it, I was certain I would never deal with this issue. In fact, until I married Dick, I never worried about money at all. As a newlywed, I believed that we could always find work to pay the bills. Dick and I were young, healthy, intelligent and well educated. It stood to reason, that over time, we'd only get more and more financially secure. I always imagined that we would look back on our early years together and think, "We might not have had a lot of money, but we always managed and look at how far we've come."

So the question is, how did I morph into someone I swore I would never become? When did the me I used to be disappear and this woman who was clueless about not only her finances, but about almost everything concerning her life take over my existence? And when did fear of not having money start consuming my daily life?

He Takes All The Credit

Monday, July 20, 2009

Dick came home from work late this afternoon and told me he needed to talk to me. He had a shifty look in his eye and a cool, calculated demeanor. I knew more trouble was brewing. Very calmly and with great pleasure, he said, "Because I'm such a nice guy I'm telling you that I cancelled the credit card today and took one out in my name only. I don't want you to get embarrassed by trying to charge something and finding out that you can't use the card."

Realizing that Dick was systematically cutting me off from all sources of money, the muscles in my jaw and neck immediately clenched down tightly, creating a choking sensation in my throat. Struggling to breathe, I just wished I would die quickly and be put out of my misery. I didn't feel I had the energy, desire or will to face the onslaught of nastiness that my sick, mean husband was looking forward to torturing me with as this divorce process progresses.

Somehow I looked at him with an emotionless gaze and said, "When did you become such an angry, bitter, hateful person?" He replied, "I'm a very kind person." I responded, "You are one of the few people who actually think so."

Fortunately, soon after this conversation, he took Marni to his mom's house for dinner. I then had the luxury of privately melting down. Totally panic stricken, I called my attorney to report this latest incident. He advised me to call the credit card company to verify that Dick actually took me off the card and wasn't just lying to intimidate me. Then he told me, "If he did cancel your card, get one in your name." "What?" I thought to myself. "I can actually do this?"

With my fingers quivering and heart roaring, I dialed the customer service number on the back of my credit card. The representative on the other end of the line confirmed that I was no longer able to use the card. "How is this possible, when both of our names are on the account?" I questioned. "Because the account is in your husband's name and he authorized you to use his card. Today, he requested to take you off and because the card is in his name, he has the right to do that," responded the voice coming from the phone. I wasn't sure if I heard this correctly, because the swooshing of the blood pulsating through my head along with the pounding that was thumping away in my chest was muffling what was being said to me. Somewhere in this stupor, I heard myself say, "Then I would like to get a card in my name." "No problem," was the reply. "Let me connect you with someone who can take care of that for you."

After being put on hold for an indefinite period of time, finally a gentleman came on the phone. After he asked me a number of questions, I was put on hold again. When he returned, he told me that I now have credit in my own name, explained the plan, credit limit, benefits of the card and that I should receive the card in the mail within 10 business days. Great... now I'll have credit but no cash to pay for anything!

Happy 21st Birthday Josh....May All Your Wishes Come True

July 16, 2009... Josh's 21st birthday.

How is this possible? I swear it was only yesterday that I gave birth to him. Where did all these years go? It seemed like they vanished in a blink of an eye. When I look at Josh now, I'm totally amazed. I wonder where my sweet little boy went and who is this handsome, funny, intelligent young man calling me mom?

I wish I could say that the past 21 years were happy, carefree ones for Josh. Unfortunately, growing up in our home, with the constant tension, arguing and upheaval, life was not a bed of roses for him.

But today was a special day. A new beginning. A bright future ahead. A cause for celebration. When Josh came home in the evening after work and dinner with his sweetheart, we had a small, intimate family birthday party. As Josh blew out the candles on his cake, I noticed that he took an extra long time making a wish. I wondered what he was hoping for.

The way we all acted, you would never have known that the night before all hell broke loose in our home. Dick, Marni and I should win Academy Awards for our performances. True to our word, we did not mention the divorce to Josh or ruin his "big day" in any way.

Later that evening I was in the basement folding laundry. Josh came up to me and told me that he and his girlfriend had a discussion at dinner that left him feeling sad. I asked him what was so upsetting. His response blew me away. When she asked him what the best days of his life have been so far, he rattled off several milestone events and then said that the day he is most looking forward to is when his parents get a divorce. I almost fell over in shock. How devastating to discover that the one thing my son is looking forward to more than anything else is having his parents end their marriage. While I knew that growing up in our home wasn't paradise, I didn't realize until that moment how horrible it was for him to be a part of this family unit.

While giving Josh a hug, I thought to myself, "Happy Birthday, Son. Who could have ever imagined that what you hope for more than anything will happen before you know it. Sometimes wishes really do come true."

It Was A Hard Day's Night

Somehow, I survived the day. It was mind boggling trying to process everything that transpired since the morning. When all the tumult finally quieted down, total exhaustion overtook my body, mind and spirit. All I wanted to do was get into bed, relax, unwind and fall asleep.

Then it hit me. Where was I going to sleep? There was no way I was ever going to share the bed with Dick again. I also knew that he was not going to give it up either. So where was I supposed to go? I decided to take out Marni's sleeping bag from her closet and camp out on the floor in her bedroom. To say she was not in the mood for a slumber party or a night of mother-daughter bonding was an understatement. At that point there were no other options. As much as Marni didn't want a roommate, I couldn't crash in Josh's room either. She was stuck with me until Josh would go back to college and then I would move into his room. Talk about feeling like a lost soul. I couldn't even find a place for myself in my own home. Something was definitely wrong with this picture and it was getting more and more out of focus as time went on.

At this point, what I'm about to say shouldn't come as a surprise, considering how my life has been going. When Marni was an infant, the four of us were in a bad car accident that totalled four of the five vehicles involved. Thankfully, everyone walked away from the crash alive. However, as luck would have it, I was the only one injured. To this day, I suffer from neck and upper back problems. After several years of physical therapy, medications, chiropractic adjustments and acupuncture, I'm finally able to make it through the day without being in unbearable, unrelenting pain.

So much for progress. After spending the night on the hard floor, I was back to square one. My neck and upper back were stiff as a board. On top of that, my lower back and right hip, two areas of my body that never bothered me before, were screaming out in pain. Meanwhile, Dick slept like a baby in our comfortable bed.

Timing Is Everything

I believe that there are no accidents or coincidences in life. I also believe that everything happens for a reason and happens exactly when it is supposed to. So the fact that I filed for divorce the day before my son, Josh's 21st birthday must have some significance in the grand scheme of things. Right now, I don't have the foggiest notion what it could be. I'm sure it will all make sense when the time is right for us to know.

What I do know for sure is that Dick was trying to use what just occurred to his fullest advantage. As soon as the processor left, he turned to me and said, "This is the kind of person you are. You have to ruin Josh's birthday." Of course he made sure that Marni was standing right there and heard every word. I told him that I was forced to file for divorce today because he took all of our life savings and put it in an account in his name only. I had to protect Marni and me. I also told Marni that my attorney wanted me to make sure my kids know what their father just did. Dick continued without flinching, "I was told to take the money out of our account to protect myself from you." Seething, I prodded him by asking, "Who exactly gave you this wonderful advice?" When he wouldn't answer, I demanded, "Did your attorney tell you to do this?" Finally he admitted that his lawyer did recommend this.

With my blood percolating through my system and ready to expode out of every orifice, I told him that no reputable attorney would advise his client to take all the money out of a joint account and put it into one in his name only. I also made it clear in front of Marni that Dick and I were supposed to have a discussion at the end of summer to determine if we should get a divorce now or wait till after she graduates from high school. I wanted to know what his hurry was and why he had to be so sneaky and pull what he did. As usual, he twisted and turned the story around and put the blame on me. It was no use. It's impossible to reason with an unreasonable person.

Marni couldn't take it anymore and burst out crying. I tried to console her. She wanted to be left alone. She sobbed, "Nothing is going to change. You two have talked about getting a divorce for as long as I can remember. This will just keep going on like this for years." I told her that this time things are different because I filed for divorce and the process is started. This is no longer just talk.

As Josh still wasn't home yet, Dick and I needed to decide when the best time to tell him the news would be. For the first time in years, we both actually agreed on something. Both of us felt it was best to wait till after Josh's birthday to tell him about the divorce so he can celebrate this major milestone in peace.

There was no sense spoiling things for Josh today. He was having a great summer so far. In the fall, he will start his senior year of college. Over this summer break, he is fortunate enough to have a wonderful internship at a major corporation in our area. In addition to enjoying what he is doing, he has the added bonus of meeting a special girl who is also doing an internship there as well. They hit it off immediately and have been spending most of their free time together.

Like I said, timing is everything.

If At First You Don't Succeed...Bang, Bang Again

My plan was to stay out of the house as long as possible that evening (actually a few years seemed like a reasonable amount of time to let Dick simmer down from what he was about to be hit with). Okay, I'm exaggerating a tiny bit. Maybe he would calm down in about a year and we could deal with the situation in a reasonable manner. Who was I kidding. I was dreading facing him and dealing with the fallout which I knew was going to be inevitable. However, the time was rapidly coming to face the music. The song that was going to be played was not my style. How I wished I could find a new melody.

To add insult to injury, my attorney called me on my cell phone in the late afternoon and told me if Dick becomes abusive or out of control after he is served the papers, I should call the police and then call him. Great! With my overactive imagination already kicking into high gear busy giving me sneak previews of the multiple scenarios of what Dick would do or say to me, this gave me a few new options which I hadn't even considered up till that moment.

When Dick came home from work, he informed me that he was taking Marni out to dinner and to look for a new bicycle for her. At that moment, my heart sank and I silently began to wonder why absolutely nothing in my life ever went remotely smoothly or easily. Of all nights, why did he have to pick this one to be out of the house!!! Nonchalantly I asked if he would be home before 8:00 pm? "Why?" he demanded. "No particular reason...just asking," I politely lied, hoping he couldn't see my heart banging against my tee shirt and my legs quivering underneath my capris.

I drove off shortly after they left. When I finally meandered back home around 9:15 pm, after sitting at my local Starbuck's for a few hours slowly drinking a Shaken Iced Tea (which was the perfect beverage to go along with my shaken nerves and trembling limbs) everything seemed quiet. What was going on here? Did the processor come? I went upstairs and Marni was in her bedroom reading a book on her bed. "Hi," I said. "Hi," she answered quietly. "What time did you come home?" I asked her. "About a half hour ago," she answered. "Did you get a new bike?" I continued. "No, we just went to a few different shops and looked around," she replied. I then went into my bedroom. Dick was taking a shower. He didn't seem upset or frazzled in any way. Maybe the processor came and they weren't home, so he wasn't able to deliver the papers. Good,I thought to myself. It seems like I'll get a break tonight and I'll deal with this some other time.

As I started to calm down, my nerves were immediately rattled by an extremely loud banging on our front door. The house literally shook. Marni ran into my bedroom, petrified. To be perfectly honest, I was scared too. She said, "Someone is trying to break into our house. Let's call the police." Realizing that the processor was here now, I bravely stated, " No one is breaking in the house. Tell Dad to see who's at the door." Dick, who was out of the shower at this point, turned to me and said, "You go answer the door." Is this guy for real? It is pitch black outside, the light is burned out on our front porch and my husband wants me to go see who's there. A fight started brewing at this point. We argued back and forth over who should answer the door. In the meantime the banging stopped.

All was quiet for about ten minutes. Then out of nowhere, the banging started up. Again the argument resumed over who should answer the door. After about five minutes, the banging stopped. This cycle continued for about 45 minutes. Finally Dick went downstairs, looked out the family room window, saw no one, opened the garage door and went outside and still no one was there. Once back in the house, the banging resumed. Again Dick looked out the family room window. This time a man was standing there. He looked at Dick and said, "Are you Richard Cohen?"
"Yes," my husband replied. "Your wife, Susie has a summons for you," the stranger continued. At that point Dick turned to me and said, "It's for you." Tenser than a rubber band about to snap apart, I angrily responded, "It's not for me, it's for you. Open the door." Dick didn't budge.

Now the three of us stood in the foyer staring at the door. "OPEN THE DOOR," I yelled at Dick. He refused to move. I repeated this command several times without any cooperation from my husband. But then again, why should he start to do anything I ask at this stage of the game. Finally I walked over to the door, opened it and looked at the tired, elderly man standing in the dark on my front porch. I actually felt sorry for this poor guy who had to make a living putting up with crap like this on a regular basis. He said to me, "Tell Dick to come to the door." I turned around and said, "It's for you." Dick walked up to the door and the processor said, "Dick, Susie wants a divorce. Here's your papers." Then he left.

I was totally dumbfounded. While I had no idea how divorce papers were actually served, I never imagined it would happen like this. And from what I was told afterwards, this was definitely not the typical scenario. Then again, the way things usually go in my life... why should this surprise me?

Waiting For The Storm To Hit

The rest of the day I was a complete basket case. Jittery and shaky beyond anything I had ever experienced in my entire life, I looked, behaved and felt like a junkie overdosing on speed. My thoughts and actions steadily accelerated at a record pace as the day progressed. I couldn't calm down if my life depended on it. Nor could I find a place for myself. As the hours slowly passed by, fear and panic settled into my body, making themselves quite comfortable in their new surroundings. And like house guests who've overstayed their welcome, these two freeloaders were in for the long haul. They were not planning on packing up and leaving anytime soon.

All I could focus on was the "hurricane" that was about to make landfall later that evening. Without a doubt, there was no way I was going to be home when the processor came to deliver the papers to Dick. Truth be told, I especially didn't want to be anywhere near my home after the papers were delivered either.

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.

When It Rains, It Pours

Not knowing what to do, I immediately did what I always do when life throws me into a crisis situation. I took a Zanax. Then I called everyone I could think of who I knew could offer me good advice. In the matter of a few hours, with the help of my "team of advisers," I discovered that my husband was planning to file for divorce and had probably already consulted an attorney. Because I had the presence of mind to get a copy of the final transaction from the bank, I saw that Dick had withdrawn $5,000 (the usual amount for a retainer) on one day and closed the account a few days later. It quickly became clear as a bell that my husband was busy preparing to make a lifestyle change.

At this point it seems like a good time to share a little bit about what I've been dealing with lately.To put it mildly, 2009 was definitely not turning out to be my year. For that matter, 2008, 2007 or 2006 weren't anything to write home about either. My father passed away on September 14, 2008. He lived 94 years. Even though he enjoyed a long, and for the most part, a very good life, the last few years were very hard, painful and sad. Being "Daddy's Little Girl," I had an extremely difficult time watching the man that I loved with all my heart slowly deteriorate and slip away before my very eyes. On top of that, my mom had a very hard time dealing with losing her husband, best friend and soul mate. In fact, while my husband was busy at the bank and at the lawyer's office, my mom was in the hospital.

Like I said... 2009 was not turning out to be my year.

The Day The Bottom Fell Out

After living like this for 26 years, you may wonder what it took for me to finally get up the nerve to file for divorce. Actually nerve had nothing to do with it. Fear, shock, betrayal and what I like to think of as divine intervention had everything to do with making my decision for me and putting me on auto-pilot for the next several days.

On Friday, July 10th, 2009, I went to the bank to cash a small check. As I stood in line waiting for my turn, a voice in my head told me to ask for the balance of my two accounts. After taking care of my transaction, I asked for the status of my funds and also inquired about how to keep track of them on-line. I was told to speak with a banker. What happened next is something that will permanently be etched into every fiber of my being forever. The banker informed me that I only have a checking account. I told her that we have a money market account as well. She looked at me, turned her computer screen in my direction and pointed to where the balance of our money market account was "zero." She informed me that the account was closed out the day before. Then she apologized. Was she actually looking at me with pity and saying she was sorry??? How could this really be happening to me??? She tried to soften the blow by saying that maybe there was a computer error and I should check with the banker at the location where the withdrawal took place. I thanked her, walked to my car in a daze and drove off with the voice in my head shouting at me, "THE ACCOUNT WAS CLOSED OUT THE DAY BEFORE...THE DAY BEFORE...THE DAY BEFORE!!!"

I have no recollection of how I got to my destination. The banker at this branch confirmed what I already knew and told me how sorry she was. This was definitely my day for banker sympathy. I vaguely remember responding, "Not as sorry as he's going to be." I asked how he was able to close out the account without my knowledge. I was informed that in Illinois (where I live) only one person is needed to close an account. Who knew? Not me. Fortunately I had the presence of mind to ask for a copy of the statement that the account was closed. I also asked where the money was. She told me that because the account was only in my husband's name, I had no access to it. I asked her if an attorney would be able to get that information. She handed me her business card and told me to call with any questions.

I left the bank shaking, crying and totally scared out of my mind. What was I going to do? Even more troubling was what on earth was my husband planning to do?