How do I get over him (and his family)? They live next door, I see him most days, and I just can't seem to let it go.
His second marriage broke up 4 years ago. He moved in with his parents to get over it. I live next door to his parents. We got together on New Years Eve 2008, not long after he finally got a job (after more than 2 years of drinking beer and watching DVD's all day, all night). He swept me off my feet.
I was besotted and so were my kids. He seemed perfect. Got diamonds
on the third finger of the left hand for Christmas last year (commitment ring - he was still married to his suddenly-lesbian wife). Talked about eventual marriage. I said that he couldn't move in with me until he'd lived by himself, I didn't need another child to look after. He assured me that he needed to live by himself too, he wasn't going to rush into another live-in relationship (he married his first wife when she was 16 after knowing her for 5 months, he moved in with the second wife after knowing her for a fortnight.)
When we realised we were getting serious, he was going to find somewhere else to live, buy his own car instead of using his parents car, divorce his second wife, stop spending $200 a week on takeaway food in lieu of cooking, aka get his shit together. He wasn't going to make the same mistake for a third time. I believed him.
Once I got the ring on my finger, he stopped making any effort to pretend to want to move out, buy a car, support himself, etc. His alcoholism became much more apparent (passing out when he sat on my lounge, dropping full cans of beer and lit cigarettes on the floor).
After 18 months he got violent when I pointed out that it was apparent that he wasn't going to do anything he had assured me he would do. His good Catholic father stood at our shared fence and heard his son scream that I'm a lying whore, heard me being thrown into walls and furniture, probably heard my 12 year old daughter sobbing in distress... and did nothing.
I see the ex-boyfriend most days, driving past in his parents car, dressed in the clothes I bought him, wearing the sunglasses I bought him. My kids play in our backyard - he and his parents turn their backs on them (and he'd told me that he'd grown to love them). I can't go into the backyard unless I'm absolutely sure that none of his extended (warped, drug/gambling/alcohol addicted) family are there because I feel so damned uncomfortable.
I can't move. I don't want to move. I have beautiful spring flowers blooming in the gardens that I built myself, even though I rent. We love this house, our landlady is awesome, we're happy here. Except for the neighbours.
I keep trying to ignore them. I do ignore them. But then I get all stewed up inside, I obsess about it.
Please give me a mantra, a technique, something I can do that will finally convince me that these people aren't worth stressing over. I just want to be carefree and happy again, and be able to walk out out back door without checking through the kitchen window first (and then waiting until the coast is clear).