Ex husband angst

OK, this is going to be long. Feel free to skip by and come back later when there's a far more interesting post. But I have to try to sort this out and I don't have much time. This is the safest place for me to do it. So 'scuse me while I talk out loud to myself for a while.

My ex-husband and I have been divorced for....mmmmm.....2 1/2 years, almost 3. If I'm remembering right. Some days time plays tricks on me. Anyway, the original divorce decree said a certain amount of child support, visitation every Saturday from noon to 6 pm. He could have them alternating holidays for the whole Thanksgiving/Christmas deal.

Background...he's bipolar. We were married 16 years. He was dx'd 4 years into the marriage. At the time, he became manic, wouldn't see a doc, and eventually tipped into psychosis. A few violent days later, he was hospitalized. The kids weren't home. Thank the baby jesus that eb often references. They kept him for 10 days, sent him home on meds that hadn't had a chance to hit therapeutic levels yet, and enrolled him in an outpatient program. A few days later he wigged again and tried to put my head through the fireplace. It wouldn't fit. :o/

Back to the hospital, two more weeks or so inpatient, and he came home heavily medicated this time. Like, zombies r us time. Eventually he stabilized, they backed off on the heaviest meds, and he abided by the rules I set down for the safety of all of us. He'd take his meds in front of me. If he didn't, he'd take them again. I didn't give a damn if he od'd. That was his problem. He'd see a therapist, a psychiatrist for meds, and do whatever they said. If he ever laid a hand on me again, I was done. It worked for a long time. It wasn't a great marriage, but it was stable at least. Most days I felt like I had 3 children, but it was what it was. I poured my energy into loving and raising my kids.

Fast forward 8 years later, and we've moved from California to Tulsa because he was transferred. Another long story all in and of itself. He worked from home for the first 18 mos. We bought the house a year after we got here, after having paid off all of our debt. Life was bumping along, the kids were settled into new schools. Then he got laid off. The telecomm company he worked for had been laying off thousands, literally thousands. We knew it was coming, but he did nothing about it beforehand. No resumes out there, no feelers put out, nothing.

He got laid off, I went out and found a job 3 days later. He was out of work for nearly a year, wouldn't try, wouldn't look, nothing. Depression had reared it's ugly head and moved in with us. I tried everything to get him to go to a doctor, have his meds adjusted, something, anything. Nope, not doing it. Eventually he got a job at the local bus plant, where they make school buses. Great. Paint fumes do wonders for brain chemistry. Still, he wouldn't hear about anything else. He'd found a job and that was it.

Not long after he flipped. Again, thank that little baby, the kids weren't home. This time was worse. When it was over he went to sleep. I think I sat in a corner and rocked until dawn. I called his doctor. I woke him up just enough to slip his meds into him. He went back to sleep, never knowing that I'd given him a double dose of one of them. I didn't care. I needed time to figure things out. Eventually, I took him to the psych hospital. They kept him. When he was lucid enough, I went to see him. I told him it was over, I was done. I won't risk my safety or that of the kids ever again. I felt awful for doing it, but I did it. When he was released he went to the homeless shelter. He'd lost his job, his home, and his family. I felt like shit for making a bad situation worse. Until I found the extra meds in his drawer. Instead of taking them, he'd been cheeking them and then putting them back in the bottle when I wasn't looking. He made his choices. He'd have to live with the fallout.

Eventually, the divorce was finalized. In the beginning, I wouldn't let him anywhere near the house. If he wanted to see the kids, he had to meet us in a public place, and he had to bring his AA sponsor with him (who happened to be built like a friggin linebacker. Yay!) Yeah, he'd fessed up to drinking for years, without my knowledge. He'd joined AA, was living in a program designed for those with mental health issues who stand a fairly good chance of becoming functional.

So the kids would see him from time to time. Each time he had to bring me his labwork to show me he was med compliant. Otherwise, no deal. It sucked, but I stuck to it because of our safety. He grew more stable, and eventually got a job working as a janitor for the Mental Health Association. Sometimes, I weep for what he had and lost. This man had a career as a Hardware Engineer for 15 years, he had kids and a wife, a good home. And he threw it all away, for a six pack of beer and the chance to not take his meds.

Now...he sees the kids every Saturday usually from about 3 pm til 7 pm. His AA meeting is at 7 up the street. I go pick him up because he doesn't have a car and probably couldn't drive anyway. He comes here, lab results in hand, and sits. He plays video games with his son. They don't talk. His daughter avoids him at all cost, not knowing what to say to him. He's never talked to them about what he did, about what happened. Not a word. He's apologized to me, but not to them.

Today, Critter asked me if he was coming over. I said yes, she sighed. I asked her what was wrong and she exploded. Literally just exploded. She ranted and raved about how he doesn't talk to them, about how he just sits, often falling asleep, about how it's great that he was a good Dad when she was little but unfortunately she doesn't remember any of that, about how he's been shit for a father for the last 12 years that she does remember. I listened to everything she had to say. I explained that when she's 18, she'll be able to choose what she does about their relationship. Not good enough, she said. She doesn't want to hurt his feelings, but "I don't want to know him, Mom! He's a fucking stranger to me!" is what she said.

Jesus. What the hell do I do? The only reason he sees them is because I make it possible for him to see them. They don't want to see him. What the hell do I do?????