First Day Complete

Today was my first day in my new position with CAITS an acronym for Clinical Affairs Information Technology Services, as a Computer Support Technician.

It’s a new role in a location at the university that I’ve primarily stayed away from, Jordan Hall.  In essence I am the IT guy for the Medical Sciences department of IU.  This is where people become doctors.

Today was a large dose of information overload for me.  I’m in a period of flux, as my accounts and permissions are being created.  After a period of up to 2 weeks I will be on my own.

Right now, the person I am replacing is showing me the ropes of the department.  Once he feels like I’m up to handling things on my own, he will move to his new position within the department, which is in Indianapolis.

Tomorrow I have my ETC course, then he will be showing me the other buildings to which we have labs and equipment in.

One Year

Today marks one year since I’ve seen my father alive.  It was at our annual family Thanksgiving celebration, which I’ve been told by my uncle has been happening continuously since the 1950’s.

Here’s the last photo I took of my father, acting in only the way my father did, he’s the one on the right.

That’s him proclaiming “something” to my uncle Larry.  He was always so social, something I really didn’t understand until I went through this divorce.

This year really changed as far as our family gathering are concerned.  It’s compromised of a gathering of clans of our family.  3 to be exact.  This year one of those clans decided to go on their own, which reduced the number of people by half or more.

At first there were questions as to whether it would happen or not.  With all of the things I’ve lost in life this year, it really concerned me.  This was really the last thing I counted on in life left.

Fortunately, it did happen.  For that, I am thankful.  I am also thankful that I was able to share this day with my beautiful daughters.  They are the light of my dark life.

When I got home, I had a message from my mother.  It’s the first time I’ve heard from her since Valentine’s day.  Sadly, I must keep her as a piece of my past.  If she even knew what was happening I would not receive any support.  I would be greeted with “I told you so.”

What are you thankful for?

Emergency

After the incident that happened on that Friday the 13th, my now ex wife filed for an “emergency custody & visitation” hearing.

It rattled me to my core.  Indiana is known for taking the mother’s side of anything in regards to children unless the mother is a known drug addict or prostitute.

In the document I was served with, twice, she claimed that my child was not safe with me and that my mental status was questionable.  Nothing in the document had anything to do with my parenting abilities or lack there of, it had everything to do with what happened between my ex wife and I.

I got some legal advice from a family law attorney.  I wanted to hire him, but I didn’t have the ability to cover his $4000 retainer.  I was hoping she hadn’t hired one.

I showed up to the hearing late, as I was sitting at the wrong court room for 20 minutes.  When I showed up, the proceedings had already began but I was welcomed in by the judge.

She swore me in, and I apologized for being late.  It was me, my ex-wife and the judge, all within 3 feet of each other.  She then simply asked me what happened.  I told her the same story that I posted here.  I also mentioned to her how when I returned home from the hospital, all of the things we agreed on keeping at my home of our child’s was gone.  The only things remaining were toiletries and coloring books.

The judge’s eyes opened wider, and she told my ex-wife that what she did was wrong.  I could tell my ex-wife was scrambling to explain her actions, but no explanation was needed.

My ex-wife lied under oath and stated that I “pushed her down the stairs.”  That was impossible as a hutch was blocking the stairs at the time.  Her sister was at the bottom of those stairs, which provides a witness to that event.

The judge said that she saw no reason to modify the custody & visitation agreement, plain and simple.

I told her that I want to have my daughters together and will have my eldest with me when I have my other child.  She said that was good, and wants me to do just that.

At the very end the judge then proclaimed that “he gets her on Thanksgiving.”  I’m not sure how to take that exactly.  Before I walked into that courtroom was she trying to keep my child from me on the biggest holiday of the year for me?  I guess I’ll never know.

In the end, the justice system surprised me.  I’m grateful and appreciative.

On my way home from the hearing, I started receiving friendly texts from my ex-wife concerning bringing items back to my house.  It’s brought a flood of questions into my mind.  Is this really the woman I call the love of my life?  Is this really the person I vowed my life to?  Is this really the mother of my youngest child?  Perhaps one day, I will discover those answers, but for now I’m just left with questions.

Starting Over

As of this moment, I’m basically starting over in life.  Not a move I wanted to make, but I digress.

I’m starting with my girls.  My first mission is to revamp what is now their space.  I just purchased a very nice bunk bed for them and will eventually have their room stocked as it should be.  My now ex-wife took everything of my youngest daughter’s except for her toiletries.  I’m not asking for them back either, like a phoenix I will rebuild.  Dad’s place will be special to her.  The home she came to from the hospital will always be a home for her, even if she isn’t there full time.

Then it’s a matter of building a new identity for myself.  I built my adult identity as a family man, but I have no family now.  I don’t expect or want a new one either.  I’m my own man now.  I’m not going to get anywhere by sitting at home like a bump on a log either.  It’s not going to help me, it’s only going to hurt me.  I need to get out there, unfortunately the peer group I typically hang out with is either 15 years older or younger than me.  It works against me in many ways.  I need new friends, I need single friends.  I need new experiences.

The first step is to blank the canvas that was created in my home.  I have a lot (and I do mean a lot) of holes to patch.  Once I get that completed, I think my mind can finally start to settle.  I’m just having some trouble with motivation.

I have a room mate, and I feel like I’ve won the lottery with this guy.  My home is cleaner than I think it ever has been at this point.  I only wish he would be here longer, because before you know it he will be leaving for his home in Oregon.

It’s final (in many ways)

Friday the 13th, a date that will and already does live in infamy.  That’s also when my divorce was final.

It started as a typical day, but turned into something very dark, something I might pay a heavy price for.

My now ex wife (which I didn’t know at the time) had spent the day moving most of her things into the garage to prepare to move out the next day.  Her sister came down from Indianapolis to help.  I was under the assumption that she would not be there when I got back home from work.

I wanted everything she was taking to be put either downstairs or in the garage, as I didn’t want a bunch of people I don’t know walking through my house, potentially ransacking what they please.  I was going to do the good thing and take Amelia with me and we were going to have a fun day together, see a movie and go to the Wonderlab.

So I started moving what was left, heavy furniture.  There was a chest of drawers, a cedar chest, the dining room table and chairs and a hutch to be moved.  I figured it could be done that night, and I assumed that I could do it on my own (as she was supposed to leave that night and take Amelia to a birthday party).

I started with the hutch.  Rachel provided some assistance, but was not happy about it.  She kept saying that I wanted to break her things, I didn’t.  I just didn’t want them where they were.  We had problems getting it down the stairs, and that’s when she told me the divorce was final, and in a very snarky tone.

I don’t know why, but between that and the situation which was escalated by her sister, my anxieties got the best of me and I lost control.  I had to end the feelings within my body by any means possible.  I felt like I was going to literally explode.  My heart was racing so fast it felt like it was going to burst out of my body at that moment.

So I did something I greatly regret.  I pushed her.  I then got my handgun, loaded it and was going to end my life.  I never pointed it, but held it at my side.  Then I saw the tattoo I had put on my arm of my dad’s handwriting.  It reads “Try to do me proud. This is ol’ Dad signing off.  Love, Dad.”  It stopped me in my tracks.  I knew he would not be proud of my actions, I knew he wouldn’t want my life to end like this.

So I put the gun away, unloaded it and sat on my couch.  I knew the police were on their way.  I just wasn’t sure what was going to happen.  Was I going to jail?  Am I now a violent person who just did a cruel and harmful thing to my family?

Sure enough, the police did call.  They asked me to come out of the house.  I didn’t want to escalate the situation, so I did.  They had me put my hands on my head and kneel.  I was then cuffed and the handgun was confiscated under Laird’s Law.  The sheriff’s deputy said that he will try to have my lifetime concealed carry permit stripped from me as well.

They asked me what happened, and I told them much like I’m telling everyone here and now.  I’m fully aware this is publicly viewable, and that’s okay.  This is what happened.  They were obviously checking to see what the truth and what the facts were.  The police (and I can only assume my ex wife) took mercy on me.  No charges were filed.  Instead I was taken to the hospital on a 72 hour law enforcement hold because of my suicidal action.

The law enforcement officers were kind to me, and I understand what they did and why they did it.  I thanked them for their efforts and their jobs.  On the way to the hospital, I had a good and genuine conversation with the Sheriff’s deputy.

I was then placed into the detention center of the ER, a place I had never been before.  It was as interesting as it was frightening.  I had to remove all of my clothes and wear a gown.  A nurse graciously let me keep my cell phone until I was moved to the “crisis” unit.  I was then sold/pressured to sign myself into the hospital voluntarily as it would let me get out in 24 hours or less.  I came to find out later that was a complete lie.

That unit was what I like to refer to as “jail-lite.”  My room was very much like a jail cell in my opinion.  There was a jail like bed, a single chair and a camera pointed straight at the bed.  The room had 2 doors to it and it was cold, so very cold.  I was strip searched and they attempted to do a metals scan on me, but did not due to my VNS implant.  It was a small unit, and I was allowed to move freely around it.  There was a single bathroom for the entire unit.  There was a phone that I was told I could use freely.  I called my ex girlfriend and told her what had happened.  I was not able to use that phone again.

That night, nurses checked on me and I sobbed at times uncontrollably in that room.  I was scared, I was frightened and I was regretting the events that had taken place.  It was the closest thing to jail that I had ever experienced in my life.  I tried to sleep but couldn’t due to how cold I was.

The next day, I saw the psychiatrist and a counselor.  He obviously didn’t care, and the counselor took my statements and was consoling.  Within 3 hours I was moved to the “stress care” unit.  I was told how much better it would be there, and indeed it was better.

I had space, and I wasn’t as cold.  I was given a room with a room mate.  He told me that he was “hearing voices” which creeped me out a bit, but he stayed primarily in the room – so I stayed away.  I spent much of my time walking the unit, which is a U shape.  Walking 12 complete legs is a mile.  I can only assume I got in at least 10 miles or more in.  They had “day rooms” with TV and such, but I couldn’t access a newspaper.  That made me sad.

The nurses and staff were much more helpful than in the crisis unit, even though they were the same people.  One in particular was especially kind, giving me information that I wouldn’t have found out for hours had she not told me.  I went to a couple of group therapy sessions, one of which was very helpful for my anxiety.  Something called HeartMath, which is a way of meditation to control your heart and in turn control your brain.  It has helped me, and I’m currently on a regimen of exercises 3 times a day.  I was told that once I can notice the control, I can back it off.  But I don’t have that control yet.

Not an hour after that session, I was dismissed from the hospital.  My ex girlfriend picked me up and took me home.  It was a sad sight.  All of the things we discussed, all the things we agreed upon, she threw out the window.  All of Amelia’s things were gone, things she wanted to stay at daddy’s house.  The only things left are her toiletries and the coloring books she wanted to keep.  No clothes, no toys.  Her car seat was taken from my car and her bike was even taken, when she had previously said that it should stay there “because daddy is going to show me how to ride it.”

I couldn’t stop the tears, so I left.

On and off throughout my stay, I tried to contact Rachel but never got a response.  She then blocked me on facebook.  That let me know, and so I sent her a final email message.  I won’t contact her again.

I’m left with puzzling questions.  Questions that I probably will never get an answer to.  I was supposed to pick her up from school all week, and take her to her soccer lesson this week.  This weekend, I was supposed to have her as my first official weekend.  To poke and prod would just make things worse than they already are.

I’ve discovered that she’s requested a hearing to change custody and visitation.  This saddens me, but I understand the concern after the acts I did do.  I’ve said from the beginning, I must pay the price for whatever I have done, and that I will.

It Doesn’t Feel Right

Today is my first full day back at work since my surgery, and it doesn’t feel right.  I would have never started or even thought of working at IU if it weren’t for Rachel.  I wouldn’t be a man with an open mind and heart if it weren’t for Rachel.

I wouldn’t be the man I am today if it weren’t for Rachel.  The woman who has shown through her actions that those things mean little to nothing to her.  She’s said many times that she “needs a fresh start.”  I don’t think she realizes that she doesn’t need a new relationship to have a fresh start.

Yet here I am.  Sitting at this help desk contemplating the past, because that’s what it really is.  I’m thinking about a person that no longer exists.  A figment of my imagination as it were.  I only want her to get better, and she’s in counseling but I haven’t seen how she’s benefited from it, other than giving up and letting go of her life.

On Saturday, my entire life will feel this way.  She’s moving out with the assistance of her new lover, his family and her family.  I’ve been tasked to stay away and keep our daughter.  It’s my first official weekend of visitation.

I know I’ll heal from this.  It will just take time.

Goodbye IU

Suddenly this week, my soon to be ex-wife left her position at IU.  She didn’t leave for another position, she just left.  She had a good paying position in what I always thought of as a prestigious department.  In her 13 years at IU, she started as a temp worker then landed a job at the Kelley School of Business in their MBA program, then moving to Informatics and then where she was (which I will not name), then became the VP of the Bloomington Professional Staff Council, which she recently resigned her duties from.

I was very proud of her professionally.  She embodied everything I hoped to be in life.  I was not jealous, just proud.  I was proud to be her husband, and I’m sad to no longer be.

I don’t know how to take this news.  I’ve been a flood of emotions about it myself.  The only thing I want in my heart is for her to go out and do this thing she’s so hell-bent on doing, and see that guy she left is the same guy she married and upon seeing that, want to come back to me.  Of course my mind knows this is more than likely a dream, if I could only get those two organs to speak to each other, I wouldn’t be such a split man right now.

She’s a smart, and strong woman.  I know she will get back on her feet quickly, or at least I hope she does.

Upgrade Complete

I’m not sure how long it’s been since I’ve written about my health issues.  Today I had surgery to replace the battery on my Vagus Nerve Stimulator.  It’s primary function is to control my epilepsy, and has been the only thing that has kept my seizures under control.

This is the 3rd time I’ve had this surgery, as the batteries last on average between 5 and 7 years.  The surgery went better than I had expected it to.  I actually woke up from anesthesia this time without any issues, which surprises me.  I really like the stuff.  The biggest difference is that they did not suture me this time, and instead used derma bond, which is essentially superglue.  I have basically no pain.

The model I now have is upgraded.  It has on board diagnostics and even monitors my heart rate and activates automatically if a seizure is detected.

By textbook terminology, I am a cyborg because of this implant.

Almost Real

Today has been almost like what my new life will be.  Alone.

My former parents’ in-law came today and took those pavers they had wanted to so badly.

I stayed up until almost 5am in the hopes that I would sleep until they had all left, unfortunately my bladder couldn’t hold out.

So I got up and relieved myself and hoped to go back to sleep.  I couldn’t.  What I heard was very interesting however.

My soon to be ex-wife finally told her parents just what she’s doing.  They were obviously not happy about it.  Her mom said “You are rushing things, and it’s not good.”  Most of the time, I wouldn’t agree with her mother – but I do on this.  She’s running, and I wished she would just tell me what she running from or to.

Once they left, I hit the road and went to my other ex’s to see my daughter and get away.  We talked and had some good times.  Once my current wife and daughter left, I went back home.  I’ve been watching Netflix and getting used to the beauty of the silence in my home.

It’s dark, and depressing.  It’s my new normal.  Thankfully Netflix does a good job of helping me escape.  I know there’s a big chunk of me that needs to do just that right now, I just worry about being stuck in this world.