Last night, when the kids were going to bed I mentioned the morning issues with the boy child to Bear, only to have the girl child chime in that Bear had told them about a year ago now that they COULD come downstairs before 8am if they wanted to. News to me.! So I gave Bear ‘The Look’ and was informed that it was possible that he had, and then asked what difference it made anyway. So I told him of the insolent bullshit I was met with that morning, which seemed to be more of an issue than the fact that yet again he hadn’t bothered to tell me of his change in the rules and has not only made me look stupid in front of his kids, but yet again has undermined my authority.
It’s no wonder the little shits barely listen to a word I say until they’re teetering on the edge of physical violence.! This is not the first, or even the fiftieth time Bear has over-ruled or under-mined me when it comes to his kids and yet he still expects me to look after them for him while he buggers off to work or to do his own thing. This is where I’m drawing the line. Tomorrow he has an early shift. It’ll be the last one he has with his kids here. I’ve had enough of his crap.
Since the debacle with my dear (not.!) father, I’ve decided to change Facebook profiles. My family are not speaking to me, the debates that are happening over the current BLM protests are just getting bloody stupid… 90% of people bitching and whining about their own white privileged rights have no clue what they’re talking about and things are getting nasty and when things get nasty I get very sarcastic and calmly but savagely honest. It’s a flaw, I know and one that becomes a compulsion when faced with dumb asses who think they know what they’re talking about and waffle off facts and statistics they read on some obscure bullshit website that itself hasn’t the first clue either.
Since I can’t block my family members nor remove them from my Facebook without exacerbating the issues further, I felt it was time to just walk away and leave them to it. So I’ve moved to my BDSM one, which believe me has been a whole world of fun, because in moving over to that profile, I’ve added a whole load of friends who have no idea about my BDSM past and have had to spend hours removing or hiding the 12 years of BDSM and sex related statuses, photos and URL links to relevant pages and websites that had been added.
While I haven’t hidden my interest in BDSM (I refuse to be someone I’m not), it’s going to be a case of slowly, slowly, catchy monkey for my (new) friends to get their heads around my interest in kink and the alternative lifestyle. Something I’ve kept well hidden for the past 10 years for Bear’s sake. So yet again I’m going to be ‘coming out’ and facing the consequences of being real to people who thought they already knew me while trying to keep Bear out of it. Still better than forcing myself not to respond to the whining of my white privileged snowflake family.
My ex- again contacted me via Messenger requesting my address, email and a contact number for his solicitors. I’m not dumb enough to believe he wanted those details strictly for his solicitors because the guy never does anything without an ulterior motive. He then messages me this afternoon to let me know that he’s asked our sons if it’s okay with them for him to send me old pictures and new of them, with our grandson that he’s taken. Now, you might think that’s a sweet thing for him to do, even for him to think of doing, but remember the ulterior motive, because there ALWAYS is one.
He’s doing the picture thing to make himself look like a precious little prince for his wife and the boys, because they all know he’s a massive asshole, and he probably has a ton load of shit to make up for and also because at some point he’ll expect something from me. Tit for tat always with him. Unfortunately that tat is going to hit a brick wall, because if there’s one thing the past ten years has taught me, it’s that humouring his manipulative bullshit is a no-no. The more he gets, the more he demands, the more manipulative he becomes.
He wants to be buddies again, so he has someone else to talk shit to when things aren’t going his way, which if you believe a word he says, is always. He wants to paint himself as the hero in everyone’s lives, the guy with the heart of gold who’ll do anything for anyone (for a price) purely out of kindness. What he fails to grasp is that I have a VERY long memory and an unforgiving nature, which he should, having been with me for 22 years and fighting with me for the past ten, have figured out by now.