Divorce is never done. (Part 1)

One not so fun thing about a divorce WITH children is money. Which is ironic. Money was a major problem in my shitty marriage as well.  In my marriage specifically-money talked. Whoever makes the money rules the world, right? I didn’t rule the world. I was a stay at home mom. So what was his was his. And what was mine was his also.

Money problems are pretty universal. In all adult people.  But especially in the divorced. (Divorced couples obviously don’t like each other-so there’s no way they are going to agree on financial issues. Come on now…enough with the unrealistic expectations.) What divorced kid hasn’t asked his dad for something and heard the classic ‘That’s what I pay your mother child support for…’ response? So they trudge back to mom and ask again.  ‘As soon as your dad sends my check!’  I cringe even thinking about it…

But I have been lucky compared to many divorced single moms on one account. My X always pays his child support. He has never missed. Not once. Some months it’s a little later than others…but it always comes. Until this month. This month I am having my first go round with the system. And I can’t even blame my X. (Well…I blame him a little. The divorce and affair and all. Remember-every upsetting situation can be linked to the divorce in 3 steps or less. 1. Get divorced. 2. Don’t receive child support check. 3. Have to deal with state workers who make me want to rip out my own hair…)

But let me get back on track. As of last week I still hadn’t received my check for this month. I text my X. He replies that it has been sent. I wait 2 more days. I text him again. He replies that he checked with the bank and that the check in question has cleared his account. I check mailbox diligently. No check. I call the state department of social services family support division. I hold for 11 minutes and accidentally hang up when I’m checking my phone to see how long I have been holding. I call back. I hold 23 minutes. The hold music is horrendous. Like some of the worst. It’s designed to make you give up I think. They are testing you to see how bad you really need to talk with them.  I don’t give up and I finally get someone on the phone. A man with a monotone voice-who seems dead inside. He reports that no check has been received for this month and that I should open a case against my X.

“Are you sure?’’ I ask. “The X says he has a copy of the cancelled check.”

“I’m sure.” he replies. “I can’t help you. Call your county offices.”

I take a deep breath, and dutifully call my county offices. The good news is that someone answers the phone almost immediately! A very lovely lady, who has no idea how to help me. She takes a message for the lady who may be able to help me-but is of course in a meeting.

“But I don’t think we can help you.” she apologizes. “Unless you want to open a case. I think you should call the state back. They can help you.”

“Can the lady who knows something call me back?” I ask.

“Actually-no. Probably not.  You will need to call her back tomorrow… But I really think we can’t help you.” she repeats.

I sigh and text my BDF about my terrible, horrible, no good day and the injustices of my divorced life. I brace myself and call the X. Something I normally avoid at all costs. He is his regular condescending self. This is not his problem. He sent the check. It’s my problem. Etc. Etc. Etc. However- when I explain that the only answer I am getting so far is to open a case against him- he really gets irritated.

“I am just trying to get some help.”I explain.

“I will fax you a copy of the cancelled check.” Click. They man is obviously too busy to deal with this bullshit.

So I hang by the fax machine and wait for the evidence. It comes through. And in the tradition of all faxes it’s a shitty copy. Great. Perfect actually. But since I need the money…I dial the state again. I hold for 19 minutes before my daughter calls three times in a row so I know it must be something really serious.

‘Hello!!??’ I screech. ’What’s happened?!!’

‘When will you be home? Can I have a snack? Where is the ice cream?’ she asks.

‘I don’t know. I don’t care. Don’t call back unless something is on fire…’

I make my third phone call. It’s 4:20. I know my time is limited. I hold for 35 minutes. 35 minutes. 35 minutes in a row. It’s dangerously close to 5:00. I finally get someone on the phone. Another man who lacks job enthusiasm.  I quickly explain my entire story. Every little detail. The phone calls. The cancelled check. Everything. He is unimpressed.

“We can’t help you ma’am. You need to call your county and open a case.”

“The county told me to call you back! I have a copy of the cancelled check. Can’t I speak to the person who cashes checks?!” I’m desperate now. And to say I’m frustrated is an understatement. My right eye is beginning to twitch.

“No one here does that ma’am. I suggest you call the county and open a case against your X.”

So in retrospect- I could have taken off work and driven to the state capital in the same amount of time that I spent holding on the phone. I have a raging headache and still no answers. I am actually fantasizing about my X’s face if I did ‘just open a case against him’- just to cheer myself up.

And I am thinking of all those women who deal with this crap every single month. Asshole X’s who don’t even send the money. The bureaucracy that is supposed to help them. The hours spent worrying and fretting and trying to figure it out. While working. And taking care of kids. And all the other stuff it’s up to them alone to do…

My BDF is right about one thing. No one understands. They don’t get it. Unless they have stood in your shoes-your divorce shoes- while holding endlessly on the phone- waiting for answers-with a sick feeling in their  stomach…

Divorce is never done.

(Stay tuned for part 2. Will I get my money? Will the X get involved? Does my eye stop twitching?  How long will I hold on the phone? Are we out of ice cream? What shoes will I be wearing?)