The worst day of my life

I've been having a lot of "worst day of my life" episodes in the past few years. I could start a TV series entitled "Worst Day of My Life". <br /><br />Yesterday goes down in my book of life as a really bad day. I've gone over it in my head a hundred times reviewing what happened and how I could have handled it differently. I wish I could have a re-do of yesterday. Sadly, what happened is permanently implanted in my brain and my heart. <br /><br />It started with me renting a U-Haul van to deliver twenty boxes of belongings to my soon-to-be ex-husband's divorce attorney's office. These were computer books and software and the delivery was court-ordered. <br /><br />Next, I got ready to head to the prosecutor's office for an interview with my husband's defense attorney for the criminal trial scheduled for next week. It was something I didn't want to do, but I was not given a choice in the matter. I knew it would be hard, reliving what happened on November 7, 2012, but I had no idea just how much it would hurt. <br /><br />The interview was my worst nightmare. It was at the prosecutor's office with the prosecutor and my advocate by my side. My husband's attorney was tenacious, delving into every part of my life that he thought would hurt me. I became angry, but tried to maintain a calm exterior. The bottom line is that he made me out to be the criminal and my husband the victim. It was really unbelievable. <br /><br />After an hour of being attacked, it was over. I felt like I was once again a victim. I was trying hard not to cry. After the evil defense attorney left, the prosecutor told me that was just a taste of what was to come at the trial. That's when they told me I would be put on the witness stand. Until yesterday I've been told I wouldn't have to testify. I was told because if they had me testify, then the defense would get to cross-examine me and if they did, they would try to destroy everything I said and make me look bad. Now I'm told because it's a "he said, she said" case that I would be testifying. The prosecutor said a lot of what my husband's attorney asked me wouldn't be allowed, but that I would be asked a lot of tough, embarrassing questions. <br /><br />The advocate talked to me for a while and said it's normal for the defense attorney to make the victim doubt themselves. Their intent is to make me look bad and to hurt me. The victim continues to be victimized. <br /><br />After all of this, I left the courthouse and sat in the U-Haul van and sobbed for about five minutes. Finally, I pulled myself together and headed over to my husband's divorce attorney's office to deliver the twenty boxes. When I talked to the receptionist she informs me I have to deliver the boxes to the second floor and that there isn't an elevator. The high ceilings makes the staircase twice as tall as normal. Some of the boxes are heavy. This seems like another tactic to add insult to injury.<br /><br />I headed back out to the van to start the delivery process when my husband pulled into the parking lot and parks next to me. He gets out of his truck and is crying telling me how much he loves me and misses me. I haven't spoken to him in almost a year. There are three restraining orders against him to not come near me. I have to decide if I talk to him and have him take the boxes or if I haul them all up to his attorney's office. <br /><br />His attorney's glass windows looks down on the parking lot. His attorney wasn't in but his assistant was waiting for me. I knew she could see the parking lot so I felt relatively safe. In hindsight, I realize now I made a really bad choice. I asked my husband if he would take the boxes of his belongings, inventory them and load them into his truck. He agreed.<br /><br />The next hour as he inventoried the boxes and signed off on each inventory sheet was the most stressful and difficult hour I've endured in almost a year. Even that hour after my cancer diagnosis wasn't as painful as an hour in his presence. <br /><br />He cried and pleaded with me over and over to drop the charges. I told him it was too late. I couldn't just let someone beat me, pull my hair out, put a gun to my head, threaten to kill me and let them walk away as though nothing happened.  He begged me to try and work things out with him. He kept saying how much he loved me and missed me. He repeated over and over how scared he is that he will end up in jail. I tried to keep the focus on him just taking the boxes of his belongings and complete the inventory. I told him I didn't want to talk about these things and only deliver his belongings to him, as ordered by the court.<br /><br />Finally, he finished the inventory and I got in the van to leave. He looked at me through the window of the van, crying, and said "I still love you". I put my head down, refused to look at him, as he drove off. <br /><br />There were no tears on my part. I felt pity for him and nothing else. I drove home feeling numb and dead inside. How did this happen to me? How did I wind up living a stupid lifetime movie?<br /><br />Looking back on yesterday, I handled all of it poorly. I was not prepared to be destroyed by the defense attorney. I knew it would be difficult, I just didn't know how difficult. At least I know what to expect in court next week.<br /><br />My encounter with my husband took me completely by surprise. I wasn't prepared to see him. I handled that poorly too. I should have just walked away, got in the van and left the premises. I wasn't thinking right. The stress from reliving the assault by my husband during the hour with his defense attorney sucked the life out of me. I didn't react normally when I saw my husband. I also think that it was a setup, done on purpose because the timing was too coincidental to have been an accident. My husband knew what time I was suppose to deliver the boxes to the defense attorney. Why did he show up just minutes after I arrived?<br /><br />The criminal trial is scheduled for next week, on Wednesday, October 9. However, I was told by the prosecutor (who I didn't like) that it might be delayed again. It depends if they can get a judge. I'm starting to feel like this will never be over. That's it's just one long process to destroy me. <br /><br />I have nothing positive to say here. Right now I feel wounded. Hurt. Sad. Broken. My roommate told me last night that I'm the strongest woman he's ever met yet I feel like I'm at my weakest. <br /><br />In eleven days I have a CT scan for my cancer and an appointment with my oncologist. I'll find out if the cancer has come back. I feel like with all the stress in my life that I'm welcoming it back against my will. <br /><br />Like I said, I don't have anything positive to say today. Just another episode of "The Worst Day of My Life".

The worst day of my life

I've been having a lot of "worst day of my life" episodes in the past few years. I could start a TV series entitled "Wors...

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