by Lucy K. Wright
In a “normal” divorce personal property exchange, a set of 12 spoons might equal 6 spoons for you, 6 spoons for me…
IF you really wanted to split the set.
In a divorce personal property exchange with a Narcissist, there is absolutely no rationale for what you might end up with. Four spoons for you IF he takes the china in exchange. Six spoons for you IF he gives you two forks in exchange. Zero spoons for you just because it’s a full moon, and you’re stupid, and non-worthy, and don’t even deserve a spoon if it was partially his to begin with.
No rationale. No logic. Nothing that makes any sense.
And don’t even ask yourself “Why?”
Because you already know…
That’s just the Narcissistic way.
The mediator declared that the ExN could schedule a time to come through the home I had been living in for several weeks, after the Restraining Order, just the kids and me by ourselves, without Him, to video tape every item in our home.
Schedule a time to “Come through Our Home, with his video camera, and…
Video Tape. Every. Item. In. Our. Home.”
I didn’t sleep for several nights after this order was declared.
I knew him.
I knew he would go through every drawer, every cabinet, every shelf, every box in the basement… to decide what he wanted. To decide what HE wanted.
What about my personal dresser drawers? My files? My cabinets? MY Things that belonged to ME, that had been MINE since he was gone? Could he, would he, be allowed to “video tape” those items too?
The reasoning behind the video taping, I think, was so that after he performed this invasive, intrusive, upsetting act, he could use the video tape evidence to help put together the list of items he might like to claim during the official personal property exchange, a.k.a, the day that all of his material “stuff” would finally be removed from our sight…our memories…our home.
I was sick the day he was scheduled to video-tape our home.
Mentally sick. Emotionally sick. Nauseous. Sick.
Why? How? Why.
I knew that the ExN would relish and gloat upon this self-documentary.
Probably gather with my “Father”, his family, and maybe some of his friends…
Pop some corn, make some tasty drinks, and sit around together to watch the video-tape of MY home.
And mock. And make fun.
And pick it all to shreds.
But did it really matter? No. The kids matter. And my job as a mom is to protect my kids.
Then. Always. Now.
“Stuff” doesn’t matter.
We scheduled the personal property exchange for a day in the Fall, after his Restraining Order was granted late that summer.
Those scheduled to be present: Me. ExN, Mediator, ExN personal helper, a support “friend” of my choosing for me, Sheriff, and the moving company crew, selected by Him, for which I was to pay half.
I learned to quit asking that a long time ago.
The Fall day of the personal property exchange: Everything agreed upon prior by lawyers. All set to go.
He, the ExN…
…did not show up.
Everyone was in place – Mediator, me, my support friend, Sheriff, ExN’s “helper,” moving van in front of my home. But where was the ExN? It was all confirmed the day prior; everyone knew. Everyone was present.
Everyone except Him…
He “changed his mind.”
He decided he wanted the exchange to be scheduled for EIGHT hours, instead of the agreed upon SIX hours the day prior.
unless he got his EIGHT hours, he was not going to show.
But he did not let anyone know he was not going to show until the morning the exchange was scheduled,
Because he did whatever he wanted.
Always did then. Always still does to this day.
That’s just the Narcissistic way.
(To Be Continued…)
~LLS~ Lucy K.
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