I haven’t disclosed this, maybe, I don’t know, but I’m really struggling with my finances. I relied heavily on my annual Holiday “stipend” from Dad but he didn’t send anything last year. I haven’t called him out on it but I’m shocked. It’s not his fault that absolutely 100% of my money is tied up in Cash Advances. I’ve been participating in this awful scheme pretty much the entire time that I’ve been working at my job. I’ve never had a chance to completely enjoy the fruits of my labor. Today, my whole direct deposit debacle took over. I opened a new checking account with a different bank under the guise that I would hook up my paycheck to the account and receive a free three hundred dollars. Well I had done this at the beginning of the holiday season and didn’t want my money to be dicked around with so I waited until the first of the year. I guess this took too long to hook up because the checking account closed and now my check is in paper form. Even after depositing my check, I’m currently one hundred and twenty in the negative and still have bills to pay. I have no money. I’m scared that I won’t be able to do this much longer, I’m pissed that I’m even in this position to begin with. I’m waiting for one measly little W-2 from a company that I worked with for about a week and then totally burned the bridge. They couldn’t care less if I have my W-2 or not. I don’t have the balls to call them and ask and I’m considering just pushing my taxes through because I desperately need this money. If I’m audited and penalized, then I’m audited and penalized. I had all of these dreams of how I’ll spend my taxes but they’re pretty much spent on prior annoyances. No tattoos or extravagant vacations for me. I fucked myself over in the future BIG TIME. I don’t get to plan things because I never have the money. It makes me so irritated. I can’t reach out to my parents, they’ll just give me that look and shake their heads in disappointment. Once I have my taxes, I’ll be able to breathe again, for a little while anyway.
Mark is trying to change the child watching duties after I asked him to change the child duties. Let me explain:
With my move out of his house, I’m realistically trying to see how our time will be spent with Vivian. The schedule is that I have her from Saturday night after work until I drop her off at School on Thursday morning. He has her from Thursday after school until I pick her up Saturday evening after work. This left me no time to myself, not a single night of no work, no parenting, no setting-an-alarm. So I asked to pick her up on Sundays.
He suggested that I pick her up at 11am on Sunday.
Asshole.
I negotiated to 12pm on Sundays but I’ll probably push the limits there.
Today he came at me with how he doesn’t have a night just to himself, no work, no parenting, no setting-an-alarm. He suggested that I keep her on Thursday nights. So that would mean I’m basically the school parent, caring for her Sunday night through Friday morning, and he gets to be the fun weekend Dad. Plus, he’s still insisting that we continue to pay for the after school care even though I told him that I would take care of it. I still have to drop by his house after work on Wednesday AND Thursday to pick her up and I don’t want to do that. Ultimately, I love spending time with Vivian and will never say no, however I do need time to collect myself after the world (and occasionally Viv’s behavior) has chewed me up and spat me out.
This whole move is creating a wedge between he and I. I’ve never really asked him how he felt about me moving out. After doing so today, he said he didn’t have any feelings. At the end of the day, we’re negotiating the memories that we make and the time that we spend with her. It’s so precious and is truly the reason why I’m moving in with Mum again.
We only have so much time.
I think about that when it comes to Dad too. He and I don’t spend nearly enough time together. He’s constantly out trying to chase a relationship. Gee, I wonder where I got that wonderful trait from? I wasted my twenties chasing romantic relationships and my thirties chasing a specific person that refuses to love me like he did back in 2015. Wow, that was over ten years ago now. I wish I had that youth back, I would do so many different things. Invest in myself, love myself, treat myself way better.
There is no Time Machine.
Out of morbid curiosity, I thought I’d ask Mark if he considered us a couple. His response was “I would have to say no”. Blunt, straightforward. It cut like a knife. It really ruined my evening. Running out of gas in his neighborhood while angrily driving away from a planetarium show that I couldn’t locate was the cherry on top of the evening. I hope me moving out is a huge blow to his ego. I really hope that if he’s moving on, that she won’t be able to stand him after two months. I’m so angry at his response and I hope that my silence is killing him. The old me would get drunk and fire back texts that I’d have to apologize for later or go on dating apps to try and find a boyfriend to distract myself from the fact that I can’t be with someone who has really hurt me. Why do I even want to be with him in the first place? He’s the father of my child. That’s it. He doesn’t make me happy, we’re not interested in the same things, he’s an insensitive jerk, he’ll say one thing and expect another. It’s really unfortunate that our daughter is starting to like him more and more, but oh well.
I don’t anymore.
I need to get my belongings out of his house, he needs to get his family’s things out of my storage unit. I need to schedule childcare just for his afternoon pick up and insist that I’ve made arrangements for Wednesday so I don’t have to go to his house. I never want to step foot in his house again. Breakfast on Friday mornings? Fuck off. Feeling a bit randy and sending a “poke poke”? Ignored. I won’t be treated this way any longer. If we’re not in a relationship, then I won’t be sleeping with him. I won’t be traveling to Disneyland with him and Vivian, in fact, I’d like to take her during a trip to California this year or next. I won’t even bother telling him about it, we’ll say it was an impromptu day trip. Fuck him. He told my Mum years ago when she asked if we were getting back together, that I hadn’t really changed anything in order for us to do so. I have finally stopped drinking and this is how he’s treating me. I will stop being friendly in texts. He doesn’t get the privilege of knowing when six months or a year of sobriety has happened for me, he doesn’t get to know me like that anymore. I’m so furious that I’ve wasted so much of my life chasing him, having his fucking child. I absolutely hate him with every fiber of my being. We are so never getting back together.
Running out of gas is such a childish problem. Children run out of gas, testing the limits of their car. It’s only happened twice in my life, tonight was one of them. And I couldn’t have ran out of gas in a worse neighborhood.
Megan’s Paper Trail 
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