You’ll Never Guess

Sorry I haven’t been around much lately. I’ve been busy. Busy with work. Busy with kids. Busy with a guy.

He’s awesome and that’s all I’m going to say about that. Except I’m on a date right now!

When things slow down I’m hoping to write more. Be patient my friends!


The Beginning of Sam’s Own Downward Spiral

February 2015

Came home from a dentist appointment to find the pastor here. And yet another text message to Jezebel where he tells her I hate him. She called the pastor for him. It looks like once again he can either have a relationship with her or one with me. He’s incapable of doing both. And he’s so messed up right now I can’t even tell him how hurt and angry I am.

I’m done. I’m done decorating. I’m done with any thoughts of a pool. I’m done with life. I’m done with any hope he’ll get better and we’ll actually have some sort of family life. I’m done dreaming and planning. I’m just waiting for death.

Present Day Sam Says: Yep, he did it. He pretty much began breaking me right around this time. I just remember feeling so helpless and defeated.

February 2015

I wrote this the other day: I think they’re in contact again. She’s no longer in The Saint’s list of contacts once again and my MIL asked for prayers for my husband and Harley liked it. Why on earth would she be liking anything having to do with my husband at this point?

He knows about my other page and is convinced I hate him and haven’t forgiven him. So it wouldn’t surprise me to find out he’s reached out to her. Maybe this was the plan the entire time. Maybe they never lost contact.

He’s been hospitalized. I’m crossing my fingers that insurance pays for this because otherwise we’ll be paying for it for the rest of our lives. And I’m sure anyone reading this would say: What a bitch! She’s worrying about money and her husband is in the hospital. Yeah, well, guess what? ONE of us has to take care of it and that person is usually me. So, yes, I will worry. I will worry for the both of us so he doesn’t have to.

I’ve had to talk to Jezebel. I’ve been talking to his mom. She says he told her I’ve never said I forgive him. I’m so tired of all of this.

And I’d like to send a big old thanks out to Blockhead for telling him about my page because I’m fairly certain that’s what has sent him on his downward spiral. You just couldn’t wait to report on everything you found, but now where are you? Are you here taking care of him? Will you be paying his hospital bill? I didn’t tell him any of that because I knew he couldn’t handle it. I’ve lived with him for 20 years. He wants to bury his head in the sand and pretend like everything is great. And before you run away with that and tell him, “She said everything is shit!” by pretending everything is great I mean he doesn’t want to have to deal with any insecurities I may have, any triggers that may occur. He lied to me. He cheated on me. He told someone else he loved her. He was planning on marrying her. You don’t get to say, “Okay, I’m done with all of that now. You can trust me.” And have that happen overnight.

I can’t even ask him about her because of his state of mind. But I think he reached out to her and she’s reaching back. No, that’s putting it too mildly. I think they’re fucking around again. I don’t think I was ever his first choice. I think he called her and told her I knew and when she asked him what they were going to do I think he told her he was going to divorce me so they could be together. Then I think he texted me and told me he didn’t want to lose any of us so I wouldn’t leave and take the kids. Remember, I already had plane tickets because my stepdad had just died. He was buying time. And then I think she got cold feet and called it off. He then spent his time trying to turn me into her. Well, honey, if she’s the one you want then go get her.

Present Day Sam Says:  I have no idea when they reconnected.  I have no idea when Tammy Faye suggested that Harley contact him.  I don’t know why I suspected they were back in contact; I have no proof either way.  Things were just so bad at this point.  I can’t explain why I believed they were back in contact; I just did. No, actually I think it was because of Harley liking Tammy Faye’s post asking for prayers. I think it’s quite possible that this is the point in time that they reconnected at his mother’s urging.

You want to know the worst part? No one could contact him without a code. I was the one who had that code and gave it out. That means I gave his mother the code so she could contact him and she more than likely turned around and gave it to Harley so that Harley could call my husband while he was in the psych ward. Nice!


Have you ever listened to a song and had it take your breath away?  I’ve been listening to a lot of music lately. The why is neither here nor there. Most of the music is old- 80s and 90s.

I was listening to Patty Loveless and her song “How Can I Help You Say Good-bye?”  I knew there was the verse in there about the husband and wife divorcing but I didn’t think anything about it because the final verse where she’s saying goodbye to her mom is the one that always guts me. And then I heard it…

I sat on our bed, he packed his suitcase

I held a picture of our wedding day

His hands were trembling, we both were crying

He kissed me gently and then he quickly turned away

Normally, I don’t think about this too much but for some reason that day it suddenly struck me: I wasn’t even worth that much. There were no tender moments (I realize I would have attempted homicide had he tried). There was no crying between two people who had been married for years. There was no reminiscing, no fake displays of sentimentality. I was simply discarded. He got in his car, drove to work, and then after work drove 7 hours to his new home and his life. Out with the old; in with the new and whore-ish.

Even more recently I was listening to Patty again. I was in a very good mood. And then I listened to “Hurt Me Bad”. It’s supposed to be a positive song.

Would have never found you

If he had wanted to stay

Oh he hurt me bad in a real good way

See?  A positive song about the good that can come out of a broken relationship. Finding a new, better relationship. Or not. But then came the line…

When I look back on my life before

How my heart got shattered

with a slammin’ door….

The words literally took my breath away and I gasped for air. Because again, there was no slamming door. He slunk out like a yellow-bellied coward. I was nothing. Not a single thought. No fights. No yelling. No slamming doors. Just gradually pack up your shit and drive away while I’m out of the house. No confrontation. No explanation. I wasn’t worth an explanation or a goodbye.

Most days I have made my peace with it. Most days I truly don’t care and I’m thankful he’s out of my life. As one of my dear, dear friends put it: CF was a bottomless pit who needed you to fill that and it wasn’t your job to make him happy.

But on these two occasions it struck me how I was completely and totally discarded without a single backwards glance. I spent twenty years with this person. I followed him around the country. I gave up life after life. I did whatever he wanted. I tried to be whatever it was he wanted. In the end it was never enough and he callously tossed me aside for his whore of a cousin.

As if that’s not enough he callously discarded me and now wants to continue to ruin me. He’s cost us our house, our new life, and pretty much everything I’ve ever owned. He’s left us destitute and still refuses to pay support even though he’s working once again. He’s trying to get out of this marriage with everything, leaving me with nothing.

Someone said to me recently: He really broke your heart when he walked out, didn’t he? No, he really didn’t, was my response. He pissed me off. And that is how I usually think of it. He pissed me off. He fucked with my life. He made a fool of me. He played me. He lied to me.

However, there are times it does hurt. It’s those times when I allow myself to feel the extent of  what he did. It’s those times that I wonder how people ever learn to trust in new relationships. I mean I realize that they do. You can’t swing a cat without hitting someone who has been dumped and is now in a new relationship. But then I’m left to wonder if that new person will wake up one day and see what CF saw. I wonder if that new person will see the shortcomings and the faults the way that CF did and decide I’m not worth it. And once again someone will slink out the door without saying a word. Of course that would be quite the feat seeing as how I won’t live with anyone again.

I should probably listen to better, more upbeat music, huh? The good news is I don’t often feel this way. Usually I’ve got my shit together. I know he’s the problem, not me. I know it’s not normal to discard people. I know that what he did was wrong and no reflection on me. But some days… well, some days the sheer cruelty of what he did manages to take my breath away.


Today I am all over the place. I’m beginning to think I’m bipolar. Maybe I’m just crazy. I warn people about that but they never believe me. I must have an honest face.

I was having a good day. And then I wasn’t. Still no check from Cousinfucker. Do you know how many times I wish I were him? I could do whatever the hell I want and suffer no repercussions. Part of that is undoubtedly due to the fact that I wouldn’t have a conscience. Life is good as a sociopath.

I texted him to let him know that I hadn’t received the support check yet this month. He hasn’t replied yet. I don’t know if it’s because he’s ignoring me, or if he and the fake family are out on some fabulous vacation for the fake daughter’s graduation. 50/50 odds.

I HATE having to text him. I HATE getting an upset stomach every time I know I’m going to have to communicate with him because he’s usually such an ass to me. To me! I didn’t do anything! He cheated on me. The way he acts you’d think I’d been fucking every guy around for the last 20 years. I hate the fact that communicating with him makes me a nervous wreck. I want to look that piece of shit in the eyes and tell him to bring it on. I want to be strong and mighty. I hate feeling like a wimp when it comes to him.

I did it, though. I just keep telling myself to stop being a whiny little pussy and fight for what I want. I tell myself that my kids deserve better than what he’s delivering.

Rock Star just had a birthday. No gift from Daddy Dearest although I hear he’s been posting old pictures of them on his FB page. I’m sure someone wiser than him pointed out that it wouldn’t do him any favors to have a FB page full of pictures of his fake kids while he ignored his own.

As I said above the whore’s daughter graduated from high school (or will be soon). I’m sure he couldn’t pay his support for his actual children so that his fake daughter, that he’s not that close to, could have an amazing graduation party and he could in turn help pay for an extravagant graduation gift. Nicely done, Dad!

September is never going to get here. I’m going to end up being married to this asshole for the rest of my life.

More Shit My Mom Says

My mom is my rock. She does my laundry. She cooks dinner. She chauffeurs my kids around when I can’t. She irons and sews. I truly don’t know what I would do without her. Oh, it’s not all about her helping me out. We have a lot of laughs most days.

With that in mind, it is time for more “Shit My Mom Says”! This will be much shorter. I don’t have as much material to work with this time around, but she does have a few doozies.

Let’s begin with the fruit cup/drainers commercial. You know the one, right? Two couples are sitting around a picnic table, opening their fruit cups, when one part of one of the couples says to their better half, “Oh, they’re drainers.”

The drainers are befuddled. What? You mean you don’t drain the juice/syrup out of your fruit cup?

No, we are civilized people. We drink our juice!

My mother’s commentary?  Well la-dee-da! Aren’t they fucking special?

We’ve got a nice little rotation of ID TV, Wheel of Fortune, and Jeopardy going on here. She’s also a big fan of Dancing With the Stars and watches religiously, but that’s neither here nor there. Currently, she’s a little upset that the grand prize on Wheel of Fortune always seems to be $34k. That’s what she said just the other day. “$34k?  It’s always $34k!” Last night we watched and the guy won $45k. I thought she was going to shit herself.

And tonight during Jeopardy, when the man won, she said, “Oh good. I didn’t like either of the women. They both annoyed me. The one talked so slowly I thought she was on drugs and the other one smiled the entire time.”

For a woman who frequently tells me that this divorce has given me a really bad attitude she is quite the bitter bunny herself when it comes to my STBX. Just the other day she referred to him as Fuck Face and then diagnosed him with what she called pussy-itis.

I think my favorite, however, is her fascination with the mail. I personally can go weeks without checking the mailbox. It wouldn’t bother me to never get another letter again in the mailbox. I’ll bring it in and dump it on the table and then go through it at a later date. Not my mom. Oh good God no! Just the other day she put a letter from my attorney right on top of all my mail. I do not wish to deal with divorce related crap as of late so I buried it under some of my other mail. I swear to God- I turned my back for a millisecond and that letter was right back on top!

And the poor mailman. I swear she knows his route by heart. She can identify the whirl of his postal truck’s engine. She knows when he’s supposed to stop by her house. She’s waiting for that postal carrier like a territorial dog. I’m pretty sure she paces by the window until he pulls up. Then she darts out to go grab it AND immediately sorts it. She gets offended if I don’t immediately open my mail that she has sorted for me. See above example regarding the letter from the lawyer. I *still* don’t know what she sent.

Finally, my mother constantly accuses me of being a food hoarder. She tells people all the time that she did not starve me as a child so she has no idea why I am so insistent on jamming my cabinets and refrigerator with food.

As many of you may know she was in Florida for 3 months so all the cooking fell on me. I did my best to clean out the refrigerator before she got back but I obviously fell a little short because one day she was rummaging through the fridge.

“Why on earth are there two boxes of chicken broth in here?” she asked.

I replied, with a straight face, “Because three would have been too many.”

Throwing Me Under the Bus

February 2015

This entry marks the beginning of the entries that CF never saw.  This is what I wrote after discovering he knew about the other FB page; I switched everything over to private so that posts could be seen only by me and later I switched over completely to my computer.  So, everything before this entry Zack could see.  Everything from here on out he has no idea I’ve written.

He threw me under the bus again. This is what he texted his sister: I almost ended it today. I was very close sis. But I emailed my fellow Ranger (he was not your fellow Ranger because you.are.not.a.Ranger!) and he responded immediately. I am not doing well at all. My wife hates me. I hate myself. And I have killed so many people that I know I am going to hell. You don’t know how many, but I do. And I can never forget that number. Hey, since I’m already going to Hell for killing people in war I may as well seal the deal, take the express train right on down to the Lake of Fire and cheat on my wife and fuck my cousin while I’m at it!

The pastor came by tonight. He stayed about an hour. He forgave me and he said God forgave me. But I can’t forgive myself. I killed a lot of men. More than you will ever know. And I wronged my wife. And she hates me. She has a separate Facebook page where she talks about me. I almost died two weeks ago. I mean actually died. I was minutes from death. O.M.G.  This is such bullshit!  You’re acting like you coded on the operating table and saw Jesus Himself before being shocked back to life; reality is they gave you an IV and pushed some fluids.  You are such a drama queen, you big fat fucking baby!  Don’t tell Mom I was that close to dying. But as I was dying, she was posting on her fake page that I was wasting her time. That never happened, you liar.

Jezebel: What fake page??? Who does she talk to?

I have a friend from college that reads it. He tells me what I can handle. Blockhead is a dumbass. I hope you realize he did you no favors. And you obviously couldn’t handle any of it.  And as I was actually DYING in the hospital last week, she was posting that I was annoying her. I almost died sis. No, you didn’t; you were dehydrated.  That’s all. My potassium was less than half of what it should be. Don’t tell mom. She will freak. I was in the hospital 2.5 days.  You were in for about 36 hours.

Jezebel: Sam is crazy and wrong. You deserve better. I’m sorry you are so miserable. I am not crazy.  I am not wrong.  You, however, are an insufferable bitch.

I can tell you what her fake page is called. But you have to promise to never make a comment on there. Just read it and save it for me. Blockhead, my roommate.

Jezebel: I promise. What is it?

The roommate from college saves it for me.

Jezebel: She’s crazy. You’re a lying whore.

She has a fake page under Harley X. Please don’t comment. Just read and save for me sis. He always calls her sis when he wants to ramp up the drama.

Jezebel: Oh my goodness. Let me look.

Jezebel: I can’t find it. Does it have a picture?

You will freak out with what she says about your little brother. What are you, 5? You’re a grown ass man. And why the hell are you speaking in the third person. I didn’t say anything horrible about her “little brother” either.  I gave facts and talked about my own feelings, which I realize you don’t think I’m entitled to have. Don’t comment. Please just read it and tell me what I need to know

Jezebel: I don’t see it when I do a search

I know she was posting on it when I was in the ER. No, I wasn’t, you liar. Because I was a pain in her ass because I was dying. They put 15 liters of fluid in me. A man can only hold 15 liters of fluid total. Ask Husband #3. I was dead. And she didn’t care. Drama much? You WERE NOT DYING! You were dehydrated. They offered to let you go home and recover in your own bed, you whining little pussy.

Search Harley X

Jezebel: That’s awful. I can’t find it.

I am close to just ending the pain sis. I can’t take any more.

Jezebel: Yes you can. You fight. Don’t you dare give up.

Jezebel: Leave her. You are a fucking bitch, Jezebel!

Call me sis. Just talk to me. Have me on speaker and have Husband #3 help me. I am at my end. Oh, the drama.  Gather everyone around, but don’t tell mom.  Talk me through this because I’m tethered to that evil bitch, Sam.  Help me, sis!  Help your little brother.  Let’s get your husband in on this charade, too.

He tells lies and completely throws me under the bus. And there’s Jezebel telling him I’m crazy, I’m wrong, he deserves better and she’s sorry he’s so miserable with me, and of course, leave her. Oh bitch, you’re going down.

Then I come home and it’s all: You’re my savior. You’re my rock. I can’t live without you. You do so much for me and never complain.

I’m so tired and drained and shocked, honestly, that I can’t even cry. He threw me under the motherfucking bus AGAIN.

Added a few days later: You know, I could almost forgive her since he was telling her such lies. But he’s out of his mind and instead of trying to talk him down she walks him right off the damn cliff. She couldn’t wait to jump in and trash me. Leave her! You deserve better! She’s crazy! She’s wrong.

Present Day Sam Says:  Now you have the actual “I was dying” story that I wrote about in Whores & Hurricanes.  Total fabrication of what actually happened.  And his “fellow Ranger”?  Yeah, he’s not a Ranger.  The story I heard years ago was that it was one of his biggest disappointments that he didn’t get to go to Ranger school; instead he shipped out to Iraq.  When I questioned him about this after he told this man he was a Ranger, too, he said, “Well, I took all the classes.  I just didn’t do the field work.”  When I told my cousin who lost her son in Afghanistan that story her jaw dropped. Her son really was a Ranger. She said that was total bullshit, which is exactly as I figured. Needless to say, she was absolutely appalled.

Those of you who have been following along for all 104+ of these be honest.  Are these horrible things I’ve written?  I’ve always found them to be honest and sad.  I bottled up my feelings so he wouldn’t have to deal with them since he couldn’t deal with anything, and in return I’m accused of writing horrible things about him and hating him.  I own the fact that I didn’t speak up.  I acknowledge that I always put him and his feelings ahead of me and my sanity.  And what I’ve posted has been some of the juicer stuff. Most of what I wrote about was her or his family. Not him and how much he sucked.  There were many pictures of her, many memes- some  insipid drivel that she would post on her FB and some that I found and liked, various pictures comparing hairstyles and showing off shopping sprees and cards I purchased.  Basically, what you are getting is probably the worst of it, and I personally don’t think the worst of it is all that bad when you get down to it.