A Letter to the IRS

Posted on by stilllearning2b
IRS building on Constitution Avenue in Washing...
IRS building on Constitution Avenue in Washington, D.C.. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I wrote before about my experiences with the Innocent Spouse relief program with the IRS.  I have now received refunds for all of the years in question (I cried when each check came in).  They have asked me to complete a survey about my experiences with the program.  I am also sending this letter to show them the more personal side of their impact.

March 25, 2012

Dave Alito

Director, Compliance

Wage and Investment Division

I received the request for completing a survey about my experiences with the Innocent Spouse claim procedure.  I will be happy to fill this out; however, I also wanted to write a letter expressing more fully my experience with the process.

First, a little background on my story: In 2009, my partner of 16 years abruptly abandoned me with a text message.  He took all of the financial documents with him, which prompted me to dig into internet resources (he changed the passwords on all of the accounts), which indicated that he had been hiding major financial deceptions.  He then went on to commit felony bigamy within a week of leaving me.

Needless to say, I was devastated.  I lost everything: my husband, my dogs, my money, my home in one small text.  I held out hope that the legal system would allow some sort of justice.  They did not.  In the criminal trial, he was granted a diversion and was never held to the criteria of the judgment.  In the divorce case, he was ordered to remove my name from the mortgage and pay me back for taxes, attorneys, and some other expenses.  That never happened and the courts offered no support.  I felt like I was twice victimized; once by my husband and again by the legal system.  It was a frustrating and powerless feeling.

When I filed for Innocent Spouse relief, I held no real hope.  I expected this to go the way of the courts.  The day that I received the first letter that my claim was accepted was a huge turning point for me.  I felt validated, and as though I had regained some control over my life.  For the first time in the entire experience, I felt as though he would have to face the consequences of his actions.

The money I was refunded has allowed me a little more cushion as I struggle to rebuild my financial well-being.  Even more importantly; however, are the emotional funds I received that have helped me to no longer be a victim.  I want to thank the people involved in my case who saw through to his deceptions and gave me hope for my future.

Maybe I should include the IRS in my Christmas letter list?  Oh, wait.  I never send Christmas cards…

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Extend a Hand

Posted on by stilllearning2b
Grasping
Grasping (Photo credit: Giant Ginkgo)

In those first few days and weeks of sudden singlehood, I was angry.  I wanted to curse his name in a thousand languages, yet I knew only one.  I wanted to create effigies of him and burn them, but our county had posted a burn ban that summer.  I wanted to use his mug shot for target practice, but I owned no range weapons.

Bow and Arrows
Bow and Arrows (Photo credit: JennicaLyons)

I realized soon enough that this mindset would not help me in the long run.  I turned to the internet, looking for inspiration from people who had been there.  Guides through the hellish journey of the end of a marriage.

I was disappointed in what I found.  The vast majority of sites were populated with people who were in the early stages.  Filled with vitriol and anger, spewing forth their rage across the web.  I get it.  You cannot heal until you release the pus that poisons the wound.  But I wanted to hear from people who had started to scab over.  I wanted to know what to expect when the scab fell off.  Or how to keep it from becoming infected.  Even better, I wanted to know what the scars of divorce would look like and how to help them fade.

Day 121: Scarred
Day 121: Scarred (Photo credit: Sarah Mae)

What I found was that people stopped sharing, stopped talking, once their own journey was set and they were out of the overwhelming darkness and confusion that dominates the early stages.  That is a shame, for there is much to be learned from those who have traveled the long road and know all its markers.

The most powerful images I have from Tough Mudder is the spontaneous creation of human chains, as people (strangers in most cases), who were just slightly further along on an obstacle, extended a hand to the person behind them.  This linkage allowed all to successfully navigate an obstacle that would have been insurmountable alone.

Those of us who are just a little further along on our journey through divorce and trauma can help others by extending a hand.

 

Love Is A Risk | Psychology Today

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Love Is A Risk | Psychology Today.

Is it a risk you are glad you have taken?  Would you (or have you) taken it again?

 

He May be a Character, but I Narrate the Story

Posted on by stilllearning2b
books
books (Photo credit: bitmask)

This one mental shift helped me let go of some of the anger I was holding towards my ex-husband.

Initially, I viewed both of us as characters in some twisted romance turned psychological drama.  He, of course, was the antagonist, performing all sorts of unspeakable acts towards me.  I was fearful of turning each page, afraid of what horrors would await me.  I felt powerless, victimized.

Then I realized, although I may not have the power to write my story, I can shift into the position of the narrator, while still remaining in the story.  As the narrator, I have the ability to interpret his actions, guide the story, and shift the focus.  I could not control the actions of the antagonist, but I could surely control how I wove them into the story.  This guise also allows me to step back from the action, gaining perspective and a broader view.

He will always be a character in my story, but as my own narrator, I choose to make him a minor one.

Wisdom From Grandma’s Fridge

Posted on by stilllearning2b

My grandmother loves pictures. Her entire house is a scrapbook, a display of photographs spanning decades, cataloging the lives of those she loves.  Her fridge is the ever-changing display of the pictures she wants to look at most.  I don’t get to grandma’s nearly as often as I would like, but when I do, I always look at the pictures on the fridge to quickly catch up.

It has been interesting to see my own picture evolve over the years, especially the ones taken with others.  When I was a child, many of my pictures contained one or both of my parents or one of my grandparents.  Later, many of them featured my cousins.  In my latter teenage years, my ex began to enter the pictures.  I remember two of her fridge in particular: one taken in the airport when we were departing from a trip to visit my grandmother and another from when I was awarded teacher of the year.

When he left, obviously those pictures had to be replaced.

The first replacement was taken with the police officer who arrested my ex-husband.  It was somewhat surreal to see that photo surrounded by pictures of family.  But that man became family of a sort that summer, as he looked out for me  as family would.  This picture was taken less than two weeks after he left.  My ex was in jail at the time of the photo.

The next replacement was a picture taken with my current partner (at a baseball game, one of my new passions) after we had only been seeing each other a few weeks.

“Grandma, I exclaimed!,” shocked at seeing his face up there so soon. “It has only been a few weeks; isn’t it kind of soon to have his picture up.”

“It’s not like it’s up there with glue,” she calmly replied with a sly smile.

That day I received a bit of Zen wisdom from my grandmother and her fridge.  Nothing is permanent; everything will change.

I am happy to report that almost four years later, the picture has been replaced, but the man in it has not.