Just while we are on the subject now seems as good a time as any to say how utterly, utterly repugnant I find it that Baby Daddy continues to dine out on intimate details of my life and history. That his new lady friend not only now knows where I live but personal, private and agonising details of my losses. How do I know this? Because that is what he does. Every internet flirtation, every open ear about town, he’s right in there filling them in. It SICKENS me. He, naturally, likes to paint himself as the white knight of the piece, riding in on his charger to raise me up from my unfortunate circumstance. He uses MY HISTORY, MY DAUGHTER’S MEMORY, to elicit attention and sympathy for HIMSELF. He leaves out the bits where he told me I was ‘used to fucking murderers’ and other similarly abusive things. The days and nights he ranted and raged as we cowered from him.
It makes me ANGRY. It FUCKS ME OFF. I COULD JUST SCREAM.
Financially and emotionally he was a blood sucking leech during our marriage and even though I’ve cut the ties as much as I can he still is milking me for all I’m worth.