Just when you think they cannot possibly sink any lower ….
I went NC with my NM about ten years ago now, but finally made the decision to also go NC with my co-father two years ago, after a series of very hurtful acts on his part. I finally came to the realization that he was just as bad, if not worse, as she was. It was a very painful thing to accept, though I know many of us here have had to deal with the same thing. It's inevitable, I guess.
For those of you who may not remember, my husband and I moved back home to CA and bought a new house about 18 months ago. I thought that would be the ideal time to make a clean break … disconnect the phone and move without telling them. Well, my mother will NOT be ignored, so she apparently used one of those online spy sites to find my address. Despite my best efforts, last Christmas I still got my annual box of doom (socks and a nasty letter) even though they had no real confirmation that I was living in this house. They just took a chance and mailed it. After that, several more nasty letters came in the mail, each one containing a “gift” check (bait .... if I cashed one, it would be proof that they had the right address, so I tore them all up). Finally I started refusing the letters, telling the mail carrier that someone had a case of mistaken identity and was sending mail for someone else with my name. It worked. We went about six months without receiving any letters. My husband told me I could now breathe a sigh of relief because we had thrown them off the scent, and there would be no box of doom arriving this Christmas.
Unfortunately, I knew better than to believe that. My mother LIVES for her Christmas torment. I knew that she would spare no expense and stop at nothing to find me. Since we’re now back home and only a few hours away from them, I had a strong feeling that she would have my father scope out the house in the hope of seeing some proof that we were, in fact, living here. (She doesn’t drive so sends him to do the dirty work.) I’ve been keeping the blinds closed and laying low, just knowing that Christmas was coming and that she would be determined.
Sure enough, it happened this morning. My husband put the garage door up to go to the store, but ran back inside briefly to grab a jacket. He wasn’t inside more than five minutes. When he went back out to the garage, the box of doom was sitting on the hood of my car. It was CREEPY. Co-father apparently saw the open garage door, recognized my car, and had the proof he needed. He’s probably been driving by for weeks on her orders to deliver that box at all costs.
I took the damned box and threw it in the cellar area under the house. It was so light,it probably contains the usual …. a few pairs of socks and a nasty letter guilting me about how she has only a month to live (she’s now in her fourth year of terminal cancer and one month to live).
Sorry for the rant, but I feel SO violated. They did not deliver a Christmas gift, they delivered a message. I feel like the godfather finding the horse’s head in the bed.
It will never stop. I wish like heck that this “terminal cancer” was real. Death is the only thing that will end this. She is EVIL.
