The Irony of the Restraining Order
I used to post under a different username, but thought it a good idea to change it now that I'm going through a custody battle. You may recognize my story...
After multiple threats and a very creepy trespassing incident at my home (his former home), I had no choice but to file a restraining order against my AXBF. The judge granted me temporary custody of our daughter with no visitation and a temporary conduct order, meaning he cannot harass me or stalk me, basically all the things he could be arrested for without a restraining order anyway. Not an ideal outcome, and certainly not what I requested, but at least I know my daughter is safe with me for the next three weeks.
My friend is going to serve him the papers tomorrow morning, and I'm extremely nervous. I'm pretty sure he's still actively drinking, and if he's not, this might push him back off the wagon. Why does the thing that is meant to protect me make me feel even more afraid?
I don't know what I need from you all. Crossed fingers? A gigantic group hug?