Misplaced Empathy

I'm writing this post after another member of the Cassandra group pointed out that our men are capable of empathy, just in all the wrong places. It gets misdirected, misunderstood, mismanaged somehow.

 It's often assumed that men like ours can not empathise, that they don't have the ability to put themselves in another's shoes or feel how another feels, but from the stories we share, this often isn't the case. By "men like ours" I mean the men who make us feel the way they do through their repeated neglect of our emotional, spiritual, mental and physical needs as intimate partners. The men who I am still reluctant to diagnose as anything specifically, as I believe that the key to Cassandra Syndrome is how they make us feel and not a definitive condition or disorder that they may or may not have. We can drive ourselves crazy trying to diagnose them, but the key to knowing what's wrong is within us and their affect on us, not in analysing their deficits. 

I remember once watching a documentary with Peter about a man who had criminal and inhumane ideations. He talked of having impulses beyond his own comprehension and disclosed that he had never acted upon them, but wanted professional help in dealing with his thoughts. The impulses he experienced were unnerving to hear, but Peter felt sorry for him- "He can't help it." What sort of person has sympathy for someone with a sadistical, warped mind? I don't think it was empathy, but definitely sympathy and a vibe of... it's not his fault. 

Peter can feel an element of empathy but in all the wrong ways. He feels it for those with no self discipline, those who omit responsibility and accountability, those who get swept along mindlessly in risky behaviours. One of this favourite phrases that he uses for lazy or arsehole behaviour is "he/she can't help it." Contrary to popular belief about our men, Peter is absolutely capable of empathy. He however can not feel it for those who are strong enough to speak out about injustice, or take control of their lives, only for those who "accidentally" get swept up in the wrong-doing. 

He felt empathy for his family of origin when I challenged them about their negative behaviour towards myself and our child.  But he never felt any empathy for me because I had the strength to challenge it. Empathy for our child was limited, because she'd had the audacity to be a child and to challenge his family in ways that children sometimes mildly challenge adults. She had broken the family rules which still limit him and keep him bound, tied and silent to this day. But our child is also my child and she doesn't live by those same rules thankfully. He does not question his own beliefs which means that he is caught up in a habitual, childhood pattern of feeling sorry for those he's been trained to be loyal to.

These men make great misogynists and not through conscious choice but because they make fantastic victims of social conditioning. Peter feels sorry for men when feminists speak out about gender inequality- men mindlessly going about their businees without a thought for gender equality have done nothing wrong in Peter's mind. He once even told me that feminists complaining about patriarchal behaviour exhibited by men are sexist man haters.  An interesting take on things. He also calls himself a feminist. 

His empathy naturally flows to the accidental perpetrators and away from those who speak up about them. It's ok to do wrong, provided it's done in ignorance or mindlessness or omission. 

He is protective of objects over people also, as if it might hurt too much to care for what is really important. I believe that the feelings of love and protection are so strong for him that he almost can't deal with it and so shuts them away and misdirects his feelings instead towards items like phones, keys and purses. Similarly to empathy, love, care and protectiveness manifests in all the wrong places. 

I often find myself wondering if they make Cassandras of themselves sometimes, are they forcing down their true feelings and hiding beneath a sea of empathy which they don't fully understand or can manage? Or are they as bad as the perpetrators they empathise with? Are their minds perhaps as warped as we fear they could be? Perhaps truth and good are threats to their impulses and ruthless absorptions and so they can never empathise with what is real and right. Maybe their empathy lingers in shadows, meant for the ones who get caught out because they themselves live in fear of being caught out by reality when the mask slips. I guess we'll never know unless we take a walk in their shoes and no matter how much empathy I can muster, his shoes just don't fit. 

A letter to a loser

Dear Peter,

I've come to realise in recent months that you are a loser.

A literal loser. 

You have lost me, the family unit which we created together, our beautiful children, our family home, all because you felt more loyalty towards your dysfunctional family of origin and you never had the balls to stand up and question them or yourself. 

It should never have been easier to make excuses for them than it was to advocate for us. 

It was easy for you to walk away and it never should have been. It should never have been easy for you to go back to your teenage bedroom, lossacking on your bed whilst I am at home, single-handedly caring for our kids. The day we had our first child was the day your loyalties should have switched, but that never happened. It makes me question if you are emotionally impacted by anything at all. Although any time I questioned your domestic awareness, that seems to affect you deeply. Why were you taking the minor things so personally and yet you could never feel so passionate for the bigger things? When your family were clearly segregating me from the rest of you and then being unkind to our child too? You batted that away easily enough.

Realising that you are a loser feels freeing to me in some ways. I can't expect much from a loser. But I feel traumatised that this loser-person is such a far cry from the man I met in the very beginning. At some point, I offended you so deeply that you withdrew all love, commitment and loyalty to me at all. And you can't even communicate to me what I did or why you're hurt because you apparently have no comprehension of your own emotions. When I argue that this seems to me like some sort of emotional disability, you argue back that you are extremely emotionally intelligent and reel off plenty of succinct examples of times you have appropriately shown empathy to others. So why couldn't you do it for us? What is really going on for you? 

The people who are supposed to matter to you are being emotionally abused by you.

Do you hate yourself so much that you made us the target of your frustration with yourself? I know already that you would be turning this back on me. I know I too get frustrated at times- but I work on myself and my growth through therapy. You believe that therapy is the cause of all our issues and refuse to work at all on yourself. Projecting and gaslighting away all of the real issues. 

I am at a point where I'm becoming content with the idea of you being merely a visitor in the girls lives as opposed to an influential parent. All of the trauma of your own childhood, you project onto theirs by refusing to face up to anything. You do not meet their emotional needs. You are emotionally neglectful, smug at times, distant and detached. I am happier for you to have less influence in their lives.

They are already seeing the truth. Already, they often prefer not to be around your parents and your sister and still, you refuse to see clearly their negative impact. You are an intelligent man who is emotionally lacking and I worry about how this will affect our girls over time. 

You have shown your true colours to some people who have been able to observe the way you put me down, try to demean me and discredit what I say. It's sad and this is the behaviour of a sad man. I've given you so many opportunities to sort yourself out, go to therapy, watch the videos, prioritise us but you refuse every olive branch through your own pig headed ignorance. I could have given up years ago and instead I've wasted years of my life on you, waiting for you to do better, only for you to dig your heels in even more. 

The children will remain predominantly with me, because it is healthier that way in so many ways. I will fight you tooth and nail to ensure that they remain mostly in my care, with you as a regular visitor in their lives from the comfortable distance which you have created. 

I'm sad that this truth has unfolded, that this is who you truly are. A loser. You have lost so much and you continue to lose. We have lost too, we have lost someone who could have made different choices, who could have tried and could have sought out the therapy needed, but it's too late now. I'll find a new way of life for me and the girls and who knows, maybe one day a new love if I can ever trust again. I hope that one day, you do realise what you have lost through the choices that you have made. Perhaps, hindsight is the only gain for you now. 

When only seeing is believing

One thing I've observed about Peter, is that he doesn't appear to acknowledge things that are happening, unless he can see them too. 

I remember a friend telling me years ago how her then boyfriend had been diagnosed with some form of neurodivergence as a child and that his mother used to put a plaster on her head to show that she had a headache. Without the plaster, the headache just didn't exist to him.

Professionals say that people with autism are highly visual and I wonder if our non-committal men struggle to see anything which doesn't take place right infront of their eyes. It's important to acknowledge of course that not all men with autism behave the way that our men do. I believe that a combination self-consuming, regulation-seeking traits of autism, a lack of emotional nurturing growing up and perhaps a genetic predisposition to narcissistic tendencies has created the man I know to be Peter. A bit of ego and male privilege thrown in and you have a concoction made for relationship misery. 

I know that some men will openly complain to their wives that they should be doing more during the day time when they're working and their women are child-rearing. I never really had that from Peter, instead I got flippant remarks when I complained to him that I was finding the physical, mental and emotional load of family draining. I was never allowed to complain because Peter had inner beliefs about my role in the family unit and it was clear from the comments, sulking and silent treatment I was given, that he didn't think that I was pulling my weight. 

He commented that he did "all the cleaning" because I asked him to vacuum once a week. The cleaning I did, which took place when he was out working, just never happened in his mind. Before he moved out, he would make breakfast for the children each morning and ensure they were dressed for the day. I knew at the time that he was resentful- a lack of eye contact, no hug or kiss in the morning, arguing with the children, crying from them and a sullen look on his face will tell you that, but he didn't say anything. Until one day he complained that he did "everything" in the mornings. I found myself listing all of the other things I did: their hair, clearing up after breakfast, getting bags ready, coats and shoes on, the mile long walk to school with them in all weathers. But because he had already left the house for work by this time and never saw any of it, he genuinely felt that he was "doing everything." He resented my morning showers, the time I spent drying my hair, getting dressed and applying make-up. Around 45 minutes in total. 

Then there was the cooking.

He cooked once or twice a week, all other meals were prepared by me and often ready by the time he got home. This wasn't through any request of his, he just happened to walk in at the time I liked to eat our evening meal. Peter was convinced that he did 50% of the cooking. I would even show him the meal planner and point out which meals I had made and which he had (also feeling a little immature for doing so but seeking out some form of acknowledgement and appreciation from him) but it made little difference. As always, Peter was stuck within the confines of his convictions.

Illnesses were always contentious issues as they got in the way of his plans. I was accused of planning intentionally to be ill when Peter had made other plans outside of family life. The anxiety of becoming ill when Peter had plans started making me ill. Little did I realise that I was run down by an undiagnosed autoimmune condition at the time and coupled with breastfeeding and sleep deprivation, I was often ill and needed support at weekends, instead our young, clingy children were lumbered upon me when I needed a break. He treated me like some glorified live-in babysitter. 

Sometimes, when I was probably feeling very low and unworthy, I think I believed Peter's perception of me as lazy. He never said it, but made me feel that way because he never acknowledged anything I did or thanked me for it and any expectations I had of him seemed to induce sulking. I was sleep deprived, nutrient deprived, love deprived and I needed more rest than I was getting, but I always felt guilty for it. All of these deprivations were invisible in Peter's world so I am sure he just thought I was taking advantage of him. Perhaps he knew his thoughts were cruel deep down which is why he never voiced them, but he certainly showed them anyway, loud and clear. 

Of course every couple has arguments about lack of support, needing more rest and it can become a point scoring exercise at times even for the happiest of couples. But our men are different, they simmer in entitlement and resentment and don't see what we're contributing to family life every day and they certainly don't want to discuss it. The emotional strain, the mental exhaustion and the practicalities which they just don't see because they're not interested enough to know. As cassandras, we are invisible to them. The work we do doesn't exist in their minds. 

Feminists are working hard to change the exploitative attitudes that some men have of women, mothers, carers. However, seeing women in their truth is of no benefit to our men at all and do they ever change their perceptions if it doesn't benefit them to do so? The only motivation for really acknowledging and appreciating what we bring to our families would be for a healthy marriage or relationship; is this really high on their priority list? I doubt it. So they continue choosing to be blind to us because ultimately, it is easier for them to not see.

When words always fail

During a session with my therapist this week, she explained to me that Peter appears to be stuck in his own convictions. She said that this is the reason that my words always seem to fail with him and that they will likely always fail. 

Any ideas, issues or opinions which challenge Peter's stringent beliefs will be cast aside, mocked, ridiculed or completely ignored. This presents like arrogance. Perhaps it is arrogance, ignorance or possibly both. Maybe simply, a fear of being wrong. 

I will always be stuck where conversations with Peter are concerned because he is in my life forever. We have had disagreements over the welfare of the children this week and he would not listen to, empathise or take my concerns seriously. I can never walk away properly because we have children together and it feels I have a lifetime ahead of me of being unheard and ignored for the sake of blind, pig ignorance. 

I strongly believe that love is an action, a choice to commit, to listen, to empathise even if you can't understand or feel something yourself. Love is a decision to always be there and to always be on your side. Despite the mind blindness of men like Peter, I can't help thinking that a commitment of love could have been made if they had wanted to make it. These men were betraying us from the moment they made a choice to shut down on us. Once married, or where there are children involved and you are as good as married, a decision has been made to stand together as a team and to work through the inevitable challenges of life together. Turning on the other spouse as opposed to supporting them is not a marriage or a partnership. The moment a decision is made not to support the other one, we're as good as divorced. And if they emotionally divorce us so easily, then why do they hold on to us? 

I think we are commodities, possessions and little more to these men eventually. Innate mysoginy runs deep. This week, Peter sent me a link to a website about "high conflict personality disorder" to view in light of myself. I could see some elements of myself within the description so I asked my therapist what she thought having seen her for the last five years. She told me that this is the sort of thing that mysoginistic men send to women who dare to speak up about injustices or concerns. We are labelled "high conflict."

Until Peter met me, he was mostly left alone to do as he pleased. He has had very little expectation placed upon him; he has been sheltered from responsibility. And then I arrived with all of my demands for him to contribute fairly and equally to the mental, practical and emotional load of family life and I am "high conflict." He sees me challenge the childrens' school if they put them in a class separate to their friends and I am "high conflict." Or when I ask the neighbours to turn down their music on a weekday evening when it is keeping the children awake I am "high conflict." When I dare to raise a discrepancy at work, there I am being "high conflict" again, all whilst Peter sits back and allows life to wash over him as he floats along idly toying with his special interests. When men do challenge injustice are they portrayed as "high conflict" or dramatic? No, because we live in a world where males are privileged. Take a man like ours who don't challenge the status quo because it suits them and us women are always at a heavy disadvantage.

Words will always be lost where there are challenges, emotions or problems which drive them because these men did not marry us to be partners and equals, they married us to soak up all of life's challenges for them so that they can then turn around and blame us for attracting all the drama. These men are lazy and they strategise it. We are supposed to support their laziness and unwillingness to engage assertively with day to day life. It's not that they aren't capable of hearing us, they just choose not to, because our words don't support their selfish ends. 

Anyone who is living this type of existance with a man and is considering divorce ought to know that their husband already divorced them a long time ago. 

My therapist is correct. My words will always fail on Peter, because I symbolise little more than drama, hard work, challenges and problems. He is deflecting before I even open my mouth. In so many ways and areas of my life, words are my power and my passion and if they strip the power of our words away from us, are we left with any power at all? 

The Hidden Beliefs of a Man Like Peter

I think I lived with Peter long enough to realise that, not only was he not the man I met, but the man I lived with completely contradicted the man he presented himself to be. He was infact the total opposite of who I thought he was in the beginning. It's not difficult to understand why his friends and work colleagues likely paint me out to be the villain in our separation.

Beliefs can be extremely limiting when they are never challenged or when they fail to adapt to new situations, new people. A lacking theory of mind can mean that toxic, limiting beliefs become ingrained, although during periods of social masking, it would appear that men like Peter can be agreeable in a bid to be liked. I struggle to see that men like Peter have a "disorder" that can be switched on and off to suit himself. His reputation is everything to him. Sometimes, I worry how he might react if he ever fell upon this blog, because he does not cope well with being outed. It is a concern of mine.

I think I have picked up on many of the true beliefs which form the basis of who Peter really is on the inside. These beliefs have not been communicated, but have rather played out infront of me, his beliefs have happened to me a lot more than were verbalised. Peter could easily deny this entire list and I'm very sure that he would do. I'm not even sure that his self awareness is capable of acknowledging what is really at his core. He wants to be SEEN as right and good. But does he want to BE good? Does he separate the two?

These are the beliefs which I experienced, or were implied by Peter. Most of them, completely unsaid:

-Only slim women are beautiful. 

-Stretch marks and saggy skin after pregnancy is unattractive.

-My free time is more important than her free time.

-She gets loads of free time because she only works part-time.

-Her job is much easier than mine.

-I shouldn't have to share my money with her because she only works part-time.

-She doesn't earn enough money.

-Her parents don't even make much effort with her, so why should I make an effort if they don't?

-Her mother doesn't do enough for my children. She should do more so I get more free time when she visits.

-Her trying to keep the children safe and healthy ruins everything.

-I'd prefer to be out with my mates than with my family.

-Her work isn't as important as mine.

-She needs to remember when important meetings occur at my work and plan for them, whilst her meetings are not important, she can probably just not go to her meetings. Afterall, she's part-time!

-She spends money unnecessarily on healthy food. 

-I cook and clean just as much, if not more than she does- she makes me do it.

-It's her choice to spend her free time cooking and cleaning, she doesn't get to choose for me to spend my free time doing the same!

-Sometimes, she pretends she's ill on purpose so that I can't go out and enjoy myself.

-She overreacts when the children are poorly. If she just let them get better on their own, they'd be fine.

- she is intolerant of my mother who just can't help the way she is.

-she doesn't like anybody so she is the problem.

-She just needs to choose to be happier.

- When she wants sex it makes me not want sex.

-I like watching other people have sex on TV more than having sex myself.

-I'm too lazy to have sex.

-I don't like planning anything with her because it might deviate from me doing what I want to do so it's better not to commit or communicate.

-When she shouts at me, she's being unreasonable, I don't like her anymore when she's angry with me.

-she's so needy.

- She should do more to help me with the children.

-She has too many opinions.

-She's a feminist who hates men.

-She's cruel to men.

-She complains too much.

-She just wants to change me and have everything all her own way.

-She's controlling.

- I don't want to rely on her, I prefer to rely on my Dad.

-I didn't want to marry her because she's nasty to me.

-If I marry her, one day she'll take all my parents money which they have worked hard for and belongs to me.

-She is the problem.

-She has convinced professionals that I have ASD when I do not.

-I hate her for telling people we know about our lives.

-She just needs to stop complaining and put up with stuff better.

- I don't want to make an effort with my appearance or my behaviour because she's trying to control me. 

-When she wants to have a conversation what she really means is that she wants an argument.

-My mates wives are much nicer than she is.

-My mates have more money than me because their wives accept that they shouldn't have to share their money. 

-My mates wives don't ask as much of my mates as she asks of me.

-She tries to stop me doing things with my mates because she's jealous.

-She thinks that she does much more for the home and children than she actually does. 

- She should speak nicely and politely to me all the time.

-She just needs to get some hobbies.

-I pity her (was once communicated).

-I'd have more money if it wasn't for her.

-Spending time with the children together is quality time, she doesn't need any more time with me. 

-I don't like that she's accused my sister of trolling her online so she must be lying.

-She tells lies because she wants to be mean and for me to turn against my own family. 

-She is being awkward when she won't look after the children on my set days with them.

-She can't expect me to look after the children on her set days because set days were her idea. 

-She doesn't care how important motorsports is to me. 

-She is selfish by not caring for the children on her own more so that I can do my hobbies. 

-She needs me more than I need her.

-My main hobby is much more of a priority than anything she might like to do because I've done it all my life with my Dad. 

-She's unreasonable to expect me to prioritise special occasions over my hobby.

-She's a selfish brat.

-If she chooses to spend money on Christmas presents for the children then that's up to her, nothing to do with me. 

-If she chooses to arrange playdates for the children, that's up to her, I don't see why it should affect me.

-If she chooses for us to socialise with other families, that's her decision not mine, so nothing to do with me. 

-Her friends aren't as important as mine.

-My friends are better than hers.

-If people are poor, it's their fault. Why should anyone else have to provide for them?

- It's not fair if her and the children eat treats without me. I need to to ensure that I eat as many treats as they do.

-I shower every day so if I smell, that's not my problem. There's nothing more I can do about it.

-Clothes, haircuts and toiletries are a waste of money.

- I need to correct her stories because she tells them wrong.

-I have to make her look small so people don't like her more than me.

-She can't be happier than I am.

-She doesn't deserve to be too happy.

Living Plan B

When I discovered that I was pregnant with Peter's child just months into dating, I didn't get the opportunity to give Plan B much thought. Plan A already felt like a massive upheaval so working out how to untangle our newly wound up lives together was an unthinkable task.

Pregnancy was a shock to the system, but realising that Peter would be in my life for the rest of my life was difficult to get my head around. I remember just telling myself over and over "this has to work." I had nothing else to fall back on: no supportive family circle; I didn't own my own house; my better friends were scattered about all over the country and although I had a stable career, my earnings were at the lower end of the threshold. I didn't even allow myself to consider alternative outcomes, because it felt that there was only one suitable option: to move in with and set up family life with Peter as he'd offered to me.

It was only when I began counselling after the birth of our first child that the alternatives were discussed. I remember feeling mortified at a mental health nurse for suggesting that Peter was not treating me well. I was livid. He had saved me, hadn't he? With his stable home, good salary, consistent career, his involved, caring family and his solid circle of unfriendly male friends who all seemed to like him. Peter had saved me from a lifetime of struggling to pay the rent alone, from single mother-hood, from my unreliable family and alcohol guzzling good time friends. 

I wasn't ready to face up to the truth back then, but as I saw other mental health professionals following my post-natal depression, it became all too clear to me that I'd moved from one group of toxic family members, to another. Years later, a counsellor spoke to me about creating a "fuck off fund." 

"All women need one" she explained. "So that they can get out should they need to, without worrying too much about money. You take money where you can. A bit of cashback at the supermarket, pocketing the change as much as possible." I hadn't ever considered a fuck off fund before and I had no savings either. I just thought that Peter would look after me forever. Did I need a plan B?

The fuck-off-fund never really materialised, but my anger around the true disappointments of living a life and raising a family with Peter arose more and more, until eventually, I furiously ended this farce of a relationship and told him to leave a year ago.  

Still, a large, naive piece of me hangs on to the hope that Peter will see the error of his ways, his parents' ways, his sister's ways, that he'll associate himself with less chauvinists and reappear as the man I'd envisioned him as when our pregnancy journey first began. I still can't quite let go of the notion of "this HAS to work." I guess it's part of the reason that we continue our family day trips and the reason I haven't pushed for the sale of the family home which will ultimately give me more freedom and autonomy from Peter. But, I also hold on to a family unit in a bid to protect the children from his emotional neglect, from his lack of danger awareness, from his family and because I want to keep my young children close. It's an unconventional set up that we have, but being away from my children 50% of the week was never in my plan and I never want it to be. 

I find myself asking, how bad does it need to get for me to finally call it a day once and for all? Is a perpetual joyless, spirit sucking low level misery not enough? Am I awaiting his infidelity? Worse? Even after endless years of therapy, it seems I still battle low self esteem. I worry how hard I'd push for family life to continue, despite him recklessly ripping it apart. I often think to myself that if things with Peter were really bad, like if he was physically abusive, then the red flags would force this separation permanently. The problem is that his red flags are only ever at half mast at most. That shouldn't really be a problem though, should it?

If he died, I'd have no choice but to live out Plan B more consistently and with more certainty, so why am I still holding on to Plan A? Part of me still feels a little traumatised that Plan A has needed to come to an end at all, after all those years of telling myself that it HAD to work out. Would I eventually opt for a permanent Plan B if he beat me senseless or cheated? Or would I still be holding on to this illusion of a family life? It worries me sometimes what I might put up with to protect my children from a more fixed separation of two homes and two lives. How bad would it need to get for me to cut my losses indefinitely? 

Either way, this life is not the Plan A that we initally created together. I spend my evenings alone whilst the children are sleeping, worrying about intruders and fires and whether or not I'd wake up in time. This isn't the Peter who promised me forever, or promised forever to my dying grandfather on his death bed either. The words and actions rarely seem to align. I am living Plan B whether I like it or not. My bed is empty, he is absent from our children when they wake most mornings, i wouldn't have imagined he'd ever have been comfortable with that. I always have to cook AND wash up, it's me who orders AND puts the groceries away. I put the bins out, I pick up the dog poo, I check that all the doors and windows are locked. He's gone. 

Plan B means that he's not as reliable as I thought he was and that me and the children were not his priority afterall. It means paying for domestic help, like cleaners, gardeners and dog sitters; it means that all responsibility has been dumped on my shoulders in return for a burden-free life, supported outwardly by his parents. 

Even a year on, I haven't quite got my head around this. The outcome which I told myself that I must avoid at all costs is upon me. I guess they call it shock or maybe even PTSD. Whether I chose this plan or not, I'm doing it, living it and each day I come to terms with this life more and more. 

"Expect nothing so you won't be disappointed" my grandfather used to say to me and I'm learning to apply this to my new way of life. On the other hand, I'm also learning that some expectations are actually basic, fundamental needs, like love, respect and loyalty and these are expectations that no Plan A should ever have to compromise on. 

The Black Cloud

It's difficult to describe the black cloud which engulfs the time spent with these men. Peter is angry at me, but he can't express it in a productive way, also as his anger is born of his own fear, obligation and guilt towards his narcissistic mother, he is keeping quiet because he knows exactly what I'll have to say about it. She turned on our young daughter again last week, this time telling her "you'll be happier when I'm dead." This was followed by his father shouting at our daughter for standing up to her grandmother and rightly calling out the behaviour as "childish."

I made the decision when he left me, that when his mum decided to replace me (as her narcissistic target) with our children, I would call out the behaviour and stand up to her. And this is what I did. I messaged her and his father to say that this was no way to speak to a child and that I thought she should see a professional for her undiagnosed narcissism to try to limit any further damage to those she cares about. I know that this was blunt of me to say, but I wanted her to know that I know what she is. My message was unsurprisingly ignored by all. No doubt there was lots of advice from flying monkeys to "ignore" my "aggressive" message; I worry that some of this advice probably came from Peter himself, but I'll never know the truth. He does know about the message but has not discussed it with me, instead choosing to operate in an authoritative, cold manner towards me since.

Today, he joined us on a family trip which we take annually. I am still endeavouring to co-parent with Peter in a way which allows us to exist as a family unit from time to time. I believe this is good for the children and in some ways, it does benefit me at times too. Today however, I'm not sure there was a lot of benefit for anyone, because he brought his black cloud along with him. Clearly still seething with me, he spent the day determined to be aloof. 

He of course, had to drive the car, asking for directions from my phone's navigation as and when it suited him, told me to move my phone to different locations around the dashboard, none of them being quite right for him. Then he demanded I turn the navigation off right away because he said he no longer needed it, as if it was about to implode if I didn't switch it off immediately. It all reeked of a need to control, just in the way he spoke to me, if nothing else.

After this, he had an issue with me leaving the dog in the car whilst we ate, so I took the dog out of the car and brought her in to the restaurant with us when there was an issue with me putting her harness on the back of a chair. "Unhygienic" he said  and he stomped off back to the car put it inside.

And when the meals came, I noticed I was missing something off my plate and asked him if he could see the plate of the person sitting behind me on the next table who had ordered the same meal to tell me what was missing so that I could tell the waitress. 

A very sharp response of "No. I am not staring rudely at other peoples meals. You're being ridiculous." 

Ok. 

Then, as we were leaving the restaurant, he of course had to tell me how disappointing his meal was, knowing that the restaurant is a favourite of mine.

This was followed by a journey home in the car and him giving me an abrupt ultimatum that he would drive past the junction for our home if I didn't tell him in 10 seconds which supermarket he should stop at to allow our daughter to use the toilet. 

I'd also borrowed his phone to take photographs during the day's main activity as my phone battery had died suddenly, which led to one hundred repeats of "have you still got my phone?"

No laughter, no smiles, no fun- from him anyway. Just a list of serious, practical requests and adjustments throughout the day. 

"Put the wellingtons in carrier bags..."

"Wipe the dog's paws again..."

"How much have you spent?"

"Can you navigate again?"

"Can you stop navigating now?"

"But I'm not speeding." (After several requests to watch his speed.)

"Which supermarket?"

Despite his protests of:

"No that supermarket is too far away."

"But you need to tell me in the next 10 seconds."

Why bother asking me if you don't want to go there?

A day of endless mundanaeity, suppression and control from Peter in a way that is difficult to describe, but nevertheless, leaves me feeling....flat.