Oblivion

Oblivion

Have you ever had one of those dreams where you are trying to run away from something, but you are just not gaining any ground? Or you are fighting someone off, but your arms will only move on slow motion? If you have, you will remember waking up with an almost painful knot of frustration resting in the very pit of your stomach, and the overwhelming hopelessness that you carried from your subconscious into the conscious waking moments.

Occasionally, residual feelings from dreams linger throughout the day, tainting your mood. Like you when you dream your partner has cheated on you and you cannot stop feeling angry with them. Thankfully, by evening, regardless of what you dreamed, it becomes a quickly faded memory, the details of which you can no longer quite remember.

Imagine being awake with these emotions, all of which overwhelms you. You can’t simply awaken and let nature erase it from your memory. It dominates every aspect of your day. Every thought gets lost, becoming entangled in the knot of frustration and the looming sensation of hopelessness that steals your breath. You want to scream but cannot produce sound. You want to cry but your eyes are dry. The more tired you become, the less sleep you are able to have.

All I had wanted was to be heard. The more I demanded logic and common sense from the so-called professionals the more they thought me insane. The more evidence I provided, the less I was believed. My children’s safety was at stake, why did no one understand? I couldn’t put one foot in front of another without a million thoughts racing through my mind, all scrabbling for my attention. Looking for something, anything that would end this onslaught of lies. To make the Social Workers see that my ex-husband was pulling their strings and making them dance like puppets to his own deluded melody.

I ached for sleep. I desperately needed it, but insomnia burrowed deep into my brain, preventing me any respite from the torment. I had been so naïve thinking the truth would save me and that honesty was the answer. Maybe I should have played the “game”, but he changed the rules so often. I hoped his lies would catch up to him. I truly believed he would be found out. Despite him educating me on how rotten some people are at their core I had still believed in the goodness of people at this point, and still believed in the Justice System I had dedicated my life to as a Court Clerk. It had been unfathomable to me that someone who had entered a caring profession would so readily be willing to cause harm to innocent children.

My children were happy and healthy, and their schools described them as immaculately turned out and thriving. The Health Visitor knew me as she had been visiting regularly since the birth of my baby. She had been full of praise relating to my abilities as a Mum and how well my husband and I worked as a team. My baby was suspected to be blind so we had thrown ourselves into making his bedroom a sensory room, unaware of what residual sight he may have. She had commented on the lovely relationship between my husband and two sons from my previous marriage, noting some stepparents struggle. She knew the children were at the centre of our universe.

I had finally gotten the home of which I had always dreamed. It had taken time due to our limited budget, but we had got there. It was beautifully decorated, clean and above all filled with happiness. I no longer had the worry of an unpredictable partner whenever visitors dropped by, and I was no longer embarrassed by outdated décor. I took pride in having guests now. It was freeing.

I had learned the hard way that living with a controlling partner was not conducive to a happy home. Now that I saw what a marriage was meant to be, the guilt hung around my neck like a noose. I hadn’t had this for my two eldest sons when they were babies. It was a long time into the relationship before I heard the term “Narcissistic Abuse.” I remember having looked it up afterwards and thinking someone had written about my life! I felt ashamed it was all so textbook. I was ashamed that I had given someone that much power over me. I felt guilt that I had not chosen a better father for my two eldest.

When I finally took the step to end the relationship people would comment on how happy I seemed for someone newly divorced! They had no idea that that had been the first time I had been able to breathe for years. I was enjoying care-free time with my kids for the first time and was almost euphoric! Again, I was naïve thinking the divorce was the end. All divorcing him did was make him play a cleverer game! A long game. Turned out he was a lot more intelligent than he had led me to believe. I should not have been surprised by one more lie being added to a long list. I still can’t work out why he hadn’t used his award-winning acting skills on stage! He certainly would have garnered the adoration he so obviously craves. He had been MIA for a year. I thought we were free. Little did I know he was a launching a campaign of hate with Social Services. The reason I didn’t know was because many of his “concerned calls” occurred during my pregnancy so Social Services did their homework and contacted the midwives who all reported a clean and happy home, so I was never visited by them.

I had assumed Social Workers and the likes would be trained about narcissistic personalities and be wise to his manipulation. They weren’t. He convinced them I was a terrible Mum. When I was eventually contacted, and I explained that my children were afraid of him and that I had never prevented contact they assumed I was mudslinging because I was angry that he had reported me so many times. I hadn’t even known! The biggest insult was them believing him when he listed things he had done to me throughout our marriage but turning it around with me as the perpetrator and him the victim! That one really stings.

My children, even my baby is now on the Child Protection Register. Even the Health Visitor voted yes. I called her afterwards and asked if she really thought I was a danger to my kids. She was very candid in explaining the politics hidden beneath these Child Protection Meetings. She explained “voting with the room.” If those that go first vote “yes” then a “no” from subsequent voters becomes increasingly less likely. The correct term is called “Groupthink.” The Child Protection system is built on a flawed system and acted upon by equally flawed people, subject to social conformity that precedes any and all logic.

I had provided all the “voters” with mounds of evidence that would give the mountains around the Valley this played out in, a run for its title. Proof of his endless and elaborate lies. Proof of his criminal history. I was floored when the Police Liaison Officer at the meeting said my Ex had no prior convictions. I had seen his DBS form; I knew there was an ABH and theft conviction. I provided evidence. The liaison officer did not. He was believed because he had a title. At this point I was unemployed. The Social Workers demands were too many and the only way I was able to jump through their hoops of fire was by giving up my job. My family was more important than my career. I had used up all my annual leave with these insanely frequent meetings. In their eyes I was just an unemployed Mum. I was unemployed because of them and now they used it against me. I still wonder what that Liaison Officer’s price was. I wonder if frustration can kill you…

My husband and baby are now living with his mother. It was a joint decision to prevent our baby being taken into care. My eldest two are now living with the Narcissist. I am not able to see them.

In the dark, while the world sleeps my own mind persists in tormenting me. Night after night I lie awake and fantasize about ways in which I could inflict pain on them all. The morning soon arrives though and laughs at me for being too weak and mild mannered to exact the torture I had spent the night planning. My thinking is stuck on a loop. I replay the events of the last two years over and over. It is relentless. Being apart from my husband is horrendous. Being away from my babies is unbearable. I feel physical pain when I think of them, what their lives will be without their Mum.

My soul aches with loss and my body shakes with rage. I have no realistic recourse. My good name and character have been reduced to ashes; my evidence “lost.” I keep picturing how blissful life was when I brought my baby home from the hospital to meet his big brothers. The way my husband cared for me during the post labour exhaustion. How could a house so full of love and giggles be reduced to this empty carcass? The silence is deafening. My head is filled with white noise. I cannot think straight.

Watching life go on outside my window is like a crushing weight. My chest feels tight and its hard to breathe. I feel like I am invisible, just watching the world turn without actually being present. I can’t watch TV. I can’t read. I can’t hold a conversation. Its all meaningless now. I need it to end, soon.

I have catastrophically failed my children. Two out of three I could not protect. My main duty as a mother was to protect them from harm. I fought as hard as I could but now, maybe the Social Workers were right. I do not deserve to be a Mum. I cannot stick around to see how damaged my children will be after the Narcissist has poured his poison into their lives too. My youngest wont even remember me. At least with me gone the adults in my life can move on. I am nothing but a burden in my current state. I hurt them too when I lost the kids. My parents are already grieving so I refuse to be a burden any longer.

I wish I were more of a drinker, maybe this bottle of Jack would be easier to gulp down. The pills have started to work. I feel sleepy now. My legs almost numb. It will be over soon. God, I hope there is no afterlife or reincarnation. My only hope now is for nothingness… peaceful oblivion.