8 Months of Heart Breaks…

Let me state this simply – the Whip and I have parted ways.

There… That’s said… I can now go on to everything else that has happened since… When did I last blog?

My eldest decided to move in with his father in February. I’m kinda glad he did, because it gave the other two and I room to each have our own bedroom. I got moved back into the main bedroom from a smaller room because, after all, I was the one paying the bills.

Yes, Covid chaos happened to us. On March 18th, I was working and my second last customer had a “herpes cold sore” and I was to take her medicine to her. I drove for a good half hour for a $9 fee and NO TIP. When I got there, she opened the door and coughed on me, and told me that she had a cold she could not get rid of. She then stated she had traveled recently and just… Snot rag and even with all the wipes and antiseptics and hand sanitizer there, I felt dirty.

And I had a breakdown when I got to the car.

Instead of pulling me in, dispatch sent me on ANOTHER call. I did that and finished up all my rounds and pulled in for the night and went home and…

The first panic attack happened. I was watching news reports and news reports and news reports for the first couple of weeks.

The next day, I went in, tried to drop my gear off, and neither the dispatcher nor the other driver there would let me speak and I had to wait until I could say something.

Then I got screamed and yelled at and threatened by both of them, and ran from the office terrified the driver was going to hurt me.

The worst part that first bit, was telling my two kids that they can’t go see their father at least for a few weeks, because him, his brothers, and maybe our son all have heart issues and if I had it, the chance was they had it too, and I asked them: what one thing I can get you to help you through the chaos?

One wanted Animal Crossing. The other… I forget, but she eventually got a small garden to sit in. That took months to build.

That weekend, one of the kids’ friends tried to suicide. I freaked cause I may have exposed a cancer patient to covid to try to smack some sense into her. Irony: she was a baha’i.

5 days into the “I might have Covid, I have to isolate” because of that customer, I had my first twinkling of a heart issue. My smartwatch caught it. My doctor told me to watch. I had cracked a low grade fever – about 100.5 – on and off for days.

I tried to get tested. There was no testing then unless you were actually sick sick.

By the beginning of April, I stopped watching the daily updates, and turned off the news. I couldn’t handle it.

Days started to drag on. Black Ort watched on cam and heard the kids repeatedly bully me and more when I tried to do everything I could to make the social isolation and more bearable. No matter what I did, it wasn’t enough. They called me “abuser” and wanted me off SL, off WoW or anything else I was doing online, and to stop “impulse buying” and my computer upstairs and and and… I put my foot down. I paid the bills. I could have my computer where I wanted it, even if I didn’t like where it was. I was NOT to Tik Tok.

They wanted me to completely isolate myself, stop my relationship with Black Ort or anyone else, pay for everything, not be creative, and be their maid and servant, and get another “real job.” They didn’t realize it, but I was looking for work the entire time.

Mother’s day came around and I didn’t get mother’s day cards… Father’s day did earn him some stuff. Catnip for the cat he got, mostly.

By then, my mother had been in contact with me. She told me she had wanted to give the kids each a small gift of cash. There’s a court order that prevented her from having direct or indirect contact with them. I had to refuse. I told her she could give it to me and I would make sure they got stuff. She refused.

My mother, on the day before my birthday, sent me $150, so I bought myself a cake and food for the kids. I had laryngitis that weekend so that was fun trying to order everything without a voice. Black Ort was my voice during the normal set I did that Sunday too. A week later, my mother threatened me with the cops if it had not showed and was missing. I said I got it and spent it on the kids and me. She said “Happy birthday.” I cringed. I’m glad I kept everything to text only.

Then July finally came around. On July 10th, I finally had my first Covid swab. It was negative. I had a heart issue after yet another night of the kids telling me how horrid a mother I was. Black Ort stayed up with me for hours watching to see if it would go back to normal. As soon as it was decided I was to go to the hospital, it did. 10 minutes later, it was back to normal, so I went to bed.

Then, August 7th, my heart hit over 170, and at one point, hit 190. By then, I had been ambulanced to the hospital, and was being told that I was going to be forcibly cardioverted – that’s where they shock your heart back into normal rhythm.

Except again, my heart went back to normal rhythm.

I left the hospital with a script for beta blockers and blood thinners. This is now my life. I also made note that the kids did not know how to call 911 on their cel phones. Either that, or they were too panicked to do it.

I also begged them to help me with the chores and offered to pay them to do it while my body adjusted to the new meds. I was screamed at and told those were my chores to do and they weren’t going to do it, even for money!

I had been harassed by the kids into rehoming my rats I had gotten just before the pandemic started in early August. We still had the guinea pigs. I was screamed at that I was not taking good enough care of the pets, even though I was the one providing the food, bedding, and treats. I really miss my pet rat, Pepper.

My mother started to text me again. She wanted to get ahold of my father. The girls were having an extra visit with their father and heading to Vancouver, and he wanted my permission to have a single visit with my mother. I refused.

I’m both glad I did and horrified I didn’t say yes to that visit.

My ex, their father, had spent months manipulating the kids, and then that would end up with the kids telling me how horrid a mother I was in excruciating detail. I wasn’t even allowed to raise my voice or they would throw “you’re abusing us!” back at me. I don’t think I was. I think I was doing my best with the situation and limits imposed upon me by my province. If I borrowed money from one of them, I paid it back with extra. I never forced them to buy things when they bloody well had the funds and could have bought stuff themselves. I bought and bought and bought for them to keep them happy. I think I spent $500 on that garden for the one kid. Little did I realize how much he had manipulated them until September 2nd.

That’s when I got an email from him that they were moving in with him on October 1st. I confronted the two still here and after being told once again that I was the abuser and a horrible mother and, yes, this was when I was told I should be working full time, paying for everything, and hiding in my room when at home.

My chest had started to hurt. I could hear my pulse spike in my ears. I knew that if they stayed for one more month, the next heart attack I would have could be fatal and a month of them telling me how horrid I was could kill me. The neighbors had told me that they heard the kids yelling at me for years, as well as at each other. Black Ort was a witness to months of harassment and more. I had had enough and gave them an hour to pack their stuff and go. It took them less than an hour to grab what they could.

Part Deux Later…

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