There is no rest for the weary. Lou still keeps me up, and then I can’t sleep, so I am weary, and since there is no rest for the weary it is an endless loop. Doesn’t seem right. Is it the wicked or the weary? While I was awake, I fell down the rabbit hole looking it up on the internet and read “the wicked are like the troubled sea when it cannot rest, whose waters cast up mire and dirt.” Apparently the weary should not rest while the shtstorm is being stirred up by the restless wicked. I read on and found that Job 3:17 states, “there the wicked cease from raging and there the weary are at rest.” Sounded good that there would be a point of relief until I realized that there means in death. Thinking there must be more to it, I got lost in the story of the Book of Job. He had a pretty good life, things got pretty shtty, but eventually he got some help and things got better.

I’m not one to ask God for help, nor place blame on God for letting things get pretty sh*tty. One night, Lou took a new approach to keep me weary by coming in my room, kneeling at my bedside, and asking me to pray with him. I asked, “Pray for what?” I could get down to pray for peace, but Lou wanted us to pray together to save our marriage. I declined the offer, just as I had declined his offer for birthday sex.

I did ask Nico for help, since Lou refuses to go to counseling, and is only talking to girlfriends and badgering me. Thankfully, Nico came to visit, and spent a lot of time with both Lou and me. I took Anjelica to a party at my boss’s house so they could be alone to talk. The fog on I-93 was as thick as flying through the clouds, so I pulled into a rest stop on the drive home to let it clear. Lou called repeatedly of course, accused me of being drunk, and insisted I come home. Like an idiot, despite zero visibility, I drove slowly through the sh*tstorm to prove I was not drunk. Neither one of us made any sense. I’ve been the one to get Anjelica ready for bed and read with her every night for the past eight years, but when we got home, I had to negotiate for permission to take my turn reading to her, which has been a recent addition to the nightly struggle.

When I spoke with Nico, it was apparent that Lou focused on my poor mental health as the primary cause of our problems, and that I am unstable. Nico told me that he could tell something was wrong as soon as he walked in our house and saw that it was not immaculately clean. It would not be long until he saw the trouble beyond the dust bunnies. Lou asked me to give him a hug and a kiss while I was in the kitchen with Anjelica. I teared up at being manipulated like that to have to concede or be a bitch by refusing in front of her. As I turned to walk out the door, Lou told her, “Mommy has problems.” He followed me to fight about it in the driveway. Unaware of the argument, Nico came out with Anjelica to find us. We changed the topic to something mundane, and Lou picked up Anjelica. She turned and reached out her arms to me as every kid does when they want to be held by someone, and I naturally stepped closer and put out my arms to gesture I would take her. Lou grasped her arms tightly back to his chest, turned and stepped away and barked, “You will not take the baby away from me!” Nico’s eyes opened wide, both literally and figuratively at that point. I just backed off and suggested that Nico and I take a ride to get some Chinese food after I take a shower.

I wanted to print info about borderline personality disorder from my computer, which was on my desk in the attic space accessed from the second door of the private toilet room in our bathroom. I turned on the shower, locked all three doors behind me, and got on the internet. Lou must have seen the second line in use indicator light on his office phone, and knew I was online. He startled me by suddenly bursting through the door toward my desk asking what I was doing. I quickly closed the window, and escorted him out, saying I just needed to do something, and would be down after my shower. I thought I had locked all the doors the first time but did it again and went back to my desk. He came busting right through again, this time with the door lock pin still in his hand as he quickly approached the desk and demanded to know what I was doing online. I said it was none of his business and escorted him out again. I gave up on the thought that I could access the info online, locked the main door again and went in the shower, only to have him break through again, and open the steam shower door to tell me Nico was waiting. I yelled at him to leave me alone and stop breaking into locked rooms to invade my privacy. He contended that it was his house, and he could do what he wanted.

While Nico and I drove to get the food, he said that he found Anjelica hiding in her bedroom under her desk. She explained she felt safer there when we were fighting. That is heartbreaking, and exactly why we need to end this mess of a marriage. I told Nico that I’d explained to Lou I just need enough money to get set up in a decent house in Amherst, and he could keep the house and pay me over time, and we would have joint custody. That was fair, but Lou would not write up the agreement. The last time I tried, Lou had me backed up to the cabinets in the kitchen and blocked me in by side-stepping in my way repeatedly as I tried to pass him. I eventually maneuvered my way past and into his office to get pen and paper, and he once again blocked me in there against the desk, smirking with each step. From the start I was clear that it was not funny. He did not let me pass until I gave an ultimatum to move away or get kneed in the groin. I explained that Lou would not let me leave, briefly described what I had learned about Borderline Personality Disorder, and that I was terrified he will be dangerous if I go without his permission or get a lawyer on my own. Nico offered to sit with both of us to facilitate a conversation about what to do next. He seemed skeptical about the personality disorder but had listened.

The three of us sat around a glass patio table in the screen room and discussed our issues and positions on whether or not to divorce. Nico made a comment that leaned toward my point of view, which Lou responded to by suddenly standing, picking up the table about 8 inches and dropping it to the deck as he cursed and yelled at us both. I remained seated and sassed, “And you wonder why I say you intimidate me.” Early the next morning, I found Nico sitting on the couch in the family room, solemnly reading The Prayer of Jabez. He carries the book everywhere, and said that he needed strength and comfort from its words, as he felt being in our home now is the closest he has ever been to Hell. Welcome to my world.

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