Yesterday I Arranged for girls to see Nathan at his mothers house at 3:30 pm, he told me he would be there, he called and 3:45 to say he would arrive 15 minutes.
Picked up the girls at 6:00 Phoebe had peed in her pants without being changes or cleaned up, and Daphne had a poopy diaper.
Argued about personal property, Nathan said he wouldn’t call next week to see the girls because he had leave for work tomorrow
And then today,
Nathan was at the neighbors all day after he told me he couldn’t see the girls because he had to work. Phoebe saw his car and was very upset and cried and cried. Saying Daddy didn’t want to see her. I told her it wasn’t his car and that he was at work. I shouldn’t have lied, but I just want to protect her little feelings and not let her know too much about what is really going on.
When I first saw his car I panicked, and called Logan Police they told me since the protective order hadn’t been signed by the judge they couldn’t do anything.
The court called me around 4 pm to tell me that the judge had signed the order and I told them I would pick up the papers in the morning.
At about 7 pm I texted Nathan to ask him to leave the neighborhood that I felt intimidated because when I went outside he would be outside at the neighbors smoking me and staring me down. He told me he hadn’t been served so he could do what he wants.
I called Logan police again and asked to have an officer assist me while I brought my groceries in, they had been in my car all day and I am afraid to go outside. I explained about the protection order being signed and him not leaving, the officer who responded told me that he had to be served by the county and nothing could be done until then. And that he probably wouldn’t be served until Monday. Ha he’ll be out of town. So I put my groceries away and went to throw away garbage. Nathan and the neighbors were outside and he started yelling something at me, I couldn’t understand because they were all laughing. I went quickly inside and shut the door.
When will I stop being afraid. I feel broken and lost and I think I'm going crazy
As a 1930s wife, I am