Stop Feeding Your Kids Shit Sundaes, Part 3

Now, about that child and/or spousal support… What is the big deal with this? On the other board I frequented there were many debates about child support, dads not getting credit for what they did, and how maybe more dads would step up if they were able to buy directly for their kids.

Hmmm… so when Dad’s money goes to buy the new cleats and pay for the class trip you’re supposed to make sure the child knows that it was Dad that made it possible. Yet, if Dad doesn’t send child support you’re supposed to shut up and take the blame for any of the things your kid misses out on or can’t have. I think we call that having your cake and eating it, too. You can’t have it both ways. You can’t say Daddy gets all the credit when he sends child support but then turn around and say you should never mention child support if it’s not appearing.

Again, I’ve been honest with my kids. They’re teens. They’ve been raised a certain way. For all of their life, up until the time their dad decided to fuck his cousin, whenever they needed something I was able to go out and buy it. No questions asked for the most part. No tough decisions to be made. Oh, you like both of those? Go ahead and get them both. When I used to take them shopping I didn’t really have a budget in mind. The same could be said about our outings. You want an ice cream cone? Sure. You want a bucket of fries? Of course! You want a souvenir from our trip. Why not? So, when the money tree dried up and I suddenly had to budget I let them know we couldn’t do those things anymore. There were no more shopping sprees. No more expensive makeup. No more game systems. We didn’t go to very many places. Our big outing was generally lunch after church on Sunday back when we still lived in Virginia.

Later, when I was working two jobs and still didn’t make enough to rub two nickels together I told them we were dirt poor and I didn’t have it. No, I can’t take you shopping. No, we can’t go to the movies. No, no, no. I also told them that things might change once he finally began paying support; until then, when he wasn’t paying a dime, I did indeed let them know our finances were extremely limited. Why? Because I didn’t make very much money and Dad wasn’t paying anything.

I have let them know my job pays my bills and that is it. I have told them that their dad’s child and spousal support lets us do everything we are able to do. It allows me to buy the things I buy for them. The way I see it I give CF all the credit. Conversely, he gets all the blame when he decides to play games and send his support whenever he feels like it. Sweetie, I’ll help you with books when your dad pays me. I can get you a new pair of sneakers when your dad sends me some money. Once your dad sends his final support payment I can pay your tuition. I can’t pay your sorority fees right now because I haven’t received my spousal support. I’ll give you your allowance once your dad sends me what he owes me. I’m low on funds until your dad comes through.

I believe I’ve pointed it out before but I have never once complained about the amount of support I receive, nor have I ever asked him for additional money. I have also never said, “Go ask your dad for the money for that.” I plan around what I’ve been court ordered to receive. In none of those instances do I ever say, “Well, I would do x, y, and z but your dad doesn’t pay enough support so we can’t.” I’ve been very honest, though, about my dependence on him and the support he pays. I think of it no differently than my paycheck.

I don’t think anyone would have a problem telling a kid, “I can’t go buy a new pair of sneakers for you until I get paid on Friday,” or “You’ll get your allowance when I get paid.” Yet for some reason it’s a horrible thing to say that about spousal and/or child support. I see no difference.

I’ve never understood the big secrecy regarding child support. Now if I were to go on and detail all the money that he spent/spends on the whore and her kids… Eh, facts are facts. I figure so long as I’m not editorializing I’m golden; however, I would not do that. Not because I’m protecting him or think I owe him or even because I don’t believe you should discuss such matters with the kids. I wouldn’t do it because it would only hurt my children.

Yes, I know. It does seem that I’m somewhat talking out of both sides of my mouth. I do believe you should be honest with your kids. I do believe they are owed the truth. I don’t think you should cover for the other parent, or lie to them. I also think that you don’t have to go out of your way to tell them every horrible thing their other parent did. I believe there’s a big difference between having honest conversations and simply blurting hurtful facts out.

For example, the first month after Cousinfucker and Harley were discovered Cousinfucker cashed in almost $6200 worth of stock, took out a $5000 loan on his 401k, and now had $5000 a month just for shits and giggles. He put it all into their joint account. That first month when I asked for more money in order to buy Rock Star’s Homecoming dress (less than $100, btw) he told me he didn’t have it this month. Yet, he bought the whore a $4200 engagement ring. He put down payments on not one, but two, puppies for her kids. She spent almost $200 at Vera Bradley, over $400 at a sporting goods store (for her own kids, I’m assuming), and hundreds of dollars on eyewear that month. In addition, a few months later a dress was purchased for just over $300 for Harley’s daughter.

Did I run out and tell my kids all of this? No. Why not? Mainly because I didn’t know any of this for certain until I opened the American Express bills or he was forced to turn over his bank records. Her husband had talked about her wearing a new diamond ring and him putting a down payment on the dog he promised her kids, but I didn’t have proof until later. When I did have proof I didn’t blurt it out because there was no context behind it. Oh my God! That sonofabitch! Can you believe all the money he spent on his whore and her kids? Let me run down the list for you!

No, that did not happen. However, when Rock Star began talking about buying her next Homecoming dress online from China because she could get it for a really cheap price I did tell her not to worry about. Her dad would buy her a damn dress. If he could buy Harley’s daughter a $300+ dress he could damn sure buy his own daughter something decent. Yes, I did tell her that.

Another time she threw something in his face about her being “his real daughter”, or something like that; I know it had to do with the fact that now he had a “replacement daughter”. His response was that he and the whore’s kid weren’t that close. I remarked, “Wow- maybe you should go for a ‘not that close’ relationship. He paid for her truck to be repaired, offered to buy her a new car, bought her a puppy, got her a new iPhone and paid her cell phone bill, and spent over $300 on a dress for her. Must be nice to be ‘not that close’!”

I suppose for me the line is this: Does this information add anything to the story? Does it substantiate whatever is being said, or being felt by my kids?

It’s one thing for me to find out my daughter is trying to get the cheapest dress possible because she’s worried about me not being able to afford anything and telling her “No, you are not going to buy some $40 dress because you’re worried about money. You go to your dad and you tell him exactly what you want. If he can spend all that damn money on some teenage girl that he’s not related to and has known for less than a year, he can damn sure as well buy his own daughter a decent dress.”

It’s a completely different thing to just out of the blue tell either of them, “Oh my God! Did you know your dad went on vacation with his new family? Why couldn’t he do that with you two? Oh yeah, that’s right; he did go with us a couple of times, didn’t he? I wonder if he ruined their vacation, too.” Or, “Hey guys, look at the fantastic new house your dad and his new family live in! We live with Nana because he let our home go into foreclosure, and they have a pool and a clubhouse.”

That’s my line. Yours might vary. Regardless, don’t be afraid to tell your kids the truth. You aren’t the villain because you refuse to cover up their cheating parent. Being honest doesn’t make you a bad person. Put down the shit sundae. Grab a juicy burger or a big slice of chocolate cake instead!

What Was the Biggest Lie?

Chump Lady likes to do fun Friday challenges. She asks her readers a question and they respond. Friday’s question was: What was the biggest whopper of a lie you believed while married to the cheater? As of Sunday evening the comments were up to over 500; needless to say I didn’t toss my hat into that ring. Instead I will share here some of the biggest lies I believed. Also, it goes without saying that the biggest caveat to all of this was you couldn’t use the obvious: I love you! Or, that whole vowing to love you and be faithful to you thing. Yes, way too obvious of a lie.

Realistically, I have no idea how many lies he did actually tell me. Who knows what was fact and what was fiction? I suppose we could start with the basic lies that I don’t think are whoppers, but are lies that I bought without a second thought. Remember, CF was painted as a painfully shy individual who liked to read encyclopedias on the weekend instead of going out and partying. He was portrayed as an honorable man who would never cheat. My goodness, no! He was simply too honest, had too much loyalty; family was everything to him. If he only had a wife who would have dinner for him every night he would give her whatever she wanted. We all know how that played out.

First up would be the lie about the email he had sent way back in the beginning of our marriage, asking for more naked pictures of some supposed random strange woman. I do want to point out that I was pissed off about this. I didn’t wave it off by telling myself it was no big deal and something a lot of men did. I was genuinely angry and we had a fight about this. Nonetheless, I believed what he told me. Furthermore, I have no proof he lied about it, but with what I know now, I fully believe it was a lie.

I also believe he lied about seeing her when he went to Kentucky for his sister’s wedding. He is not in any of the pictures from that day. He insisted it was because his sister sent him on an alcohol run which caused him to almost miss the big day. I think he either snuck off to go see her or she came with him to the wedding and that’s why he was never photographed.

Then we have the lie about not knowing why on earth Harley blocked me on Facebook after the wedding. You may recall that he came home to a spotless house and pictures of Harley posted up in several different places, including as my computer wallpaper. He, of course, had no idea why she would do that, and that was between me and her.

I think that was the beginning of me believing lies in order to preserve my family. My sweet friend J told me the day I revealed to her that I had been blocked on her Facebook account that I needed to talk to a lawyer and I needed to protect myself. I didn’t listen. I wanted to believe him. I wanted so much to remain married and maintain my life. Accepting that my husband was texting with the ho-bag cousin would have put a dent in that fantasy.

I still remember telling him we had an appointment with a marriage counselor and him refusing to go. I remember then confronting him about Harley and all the lies that slipped between his lips when he was defending himself.

“Are you still in contact with her?”

“No!”

“She blocked me.”

“I don’t know anything about that. That’s between the two of you.”

Hmmmm…. it couldn’t be because you told her about the pictures you came home to, could it?

I remember him telling me that I knew he hadn’t been happy in years, that we were nothing more than roommates. I remember telling him I wasn’t going to give up on us and that I thought we could be better than ever. I also remember him telling me that it would be “too weird” for that to happen, and him warning me that if I didn’t go back to me doing my own thing while letting him do his own thing that he didn’t know what was going to happen.

Yes, I ate the shit sundae. I smiled as that slimy cherry slid down my throat. I ate it all so that I could hopefully repair what I now know was my useless marriage. I just needed to make him love me again. He would see that it was possible. I would wear make-up all the time. I would dress better. I would keep the house clean. I would cook more. Life with me was going to be splendid.

That’s still not the biggest lie I believed. There were all sorts of smaller lies along the way to the whopper(s). Like, when he told me the paperwork was messed up so it would be easier if he just left my name off the deed to the new house, and we could get it put on at a later date. I did stave that one off by throwing a huge fit, not that it ended up mattering. The house ended up foreclosed on thanks to him. Hell, I think the whole setup to move to Virginia was a hybrid lie.

He started talking about wanting that particular plant shortly after his first affair with Harley began. He admitted a few months later, after being busted, that the plan had been to move closer to her. Oh, he dressed it up as moving closer to family, but we all know what he meant.

I don’t know, and I do not care, if the affair was going on the entire time, but I certainly feel like he set me up to move away from our life in Utah where the kids were happy and settled, and to move to Virginia to be closer to the whore. It was all a huge con. He felt so isolated out there in Utah. He wanted to be closer to family. Oh, it got even better because the whole need to be closer to family was for our kids. It was so important that they be around family and we couldn’t offer them that out in Utah. That was a pretty big lie- it had nothing to do with our kids and everything to do with him and what he wanted- but it wasn’t the whopper.

I think the whole reconciliation bit was probably a big fat lie, too, to get me to go where he wanted to go. Perhaps he was smart enough to realize I would never agree to move if we were in a state of chaos. Still not the whopper.

There was the lie I still don’t know why he told. In the beginning he said he had texted other women, plural. After I found the Facebook message to his nephew, telling him he was going to marry Harley one day, I sorrowfully said to him, “It was never women, was it? It was always only her.” He agreed that it had only been her, and that he was trying to protect her, to make it not seem so serious. I later found Anne so I know that women, plural, was correct. Unless, of course, he hooked up with her after Harley.

There were the lies told in reconciliation- stupid little timeline things. Who said I love you first? I don’t know. Did you tell her you loved her before you went out for your sister’s wedding? I don’t think so. Busted! See above regarding the FB message to his nephew. That happened before his sister’s wedding.

There was the lie that she had never meant anything to him, that she was a substitute for me. There was the lie that he knew he loved me when I confronted him in June, wanting him to go to marriage counseling. Really? Then why did you continue carrying on? <crickets> There was the lie that it was a midlife crisis, she was the worst mistake of his life, and he should have bought a motorcycle.

All those earlier lies? I think I could believe them not only because I wanted to believe that I wasn’t headed for divorce, but because I didn’t realize how incredibly devious he was. Even after his first affair with her was exposed I never pegged him as this much of a liar. I spent the first few weeks after he told me he had been “texting” other women believing that maybe what he meant was that he had been merely talking to other women, that he was such an upstanding, loyal, honest man that he would never cheat on me. He felt overwhelming guilt because he was confiding in others and he didn’t think that was right. Maybe it wasn’t so much that he was so incredibly devious as it was that I was incredibly naive. I bought them all. I explained them all away.

I even bought the lie about Anne. I immediately confronted him about her and his explanation sounded reasonable. This was a man who loved me after all. We were better than ever. We had gotten to the root of all of our marital problems and we had worked them out. I was texting. I was sending racy photos. I was putting out. I’m sure I was keeping up with the laundry and cleaning the house as well. I put the kids in second place so I could concentrate on him. He wouldn’t lie to me!

So when he explained that he had met her on Linked In, thinking she was a vendor, that seemed reasonable enough. He realized she wasn’t a vendor but he offered her help with her professional life. How sweet of him! Isn’t he just the best? Story twist! She turned psycho! She started stalking him. Better just delete her messages and forget all about her, Sam. She’s nuts.

I believed him. It never occurred to me that he could lie as easily as he could breathe. I thought that there was no way he could come up with all of that in a split second. In reality, he hadn’t. She had already forewarned him that she was going to contact me so he already concocted a cover story. Plus, we had reconciled. Why would he do this all over again?

No, I think the biggest lie was the chain of lies that happened when he started cheating with her again, all culminating in his claim that he suffered from PTSD.

Part 1 of the whopper lie I swallowed was the one I actually helped him create. When American Sniper came out I casually asked if maybe this was his real problem. No, his real problem was he had found my alternate Facebook page, thanks to Blockhead, and he felt he was losing control. But here was the easy out for him. PTSD! Excellent! That would be his excuse.

He was probably plotting his exit right then and there, along with help from Blockhead and Jezebel. I can claim PTSD! I’ll say I can’t function. I find it almost impossible to drive the 15 minutes to work. I can’t be out in public. I’ll cry and carry on constantly and then accuse her of not caring when she doesn’t live up to my unreasonable expectations. I’ll start to drink so that if the PTSD shit doesn’t pan out I’ve got yet another excuse. In short, I’ll be an absolute mess and fall apart. Maybe she’ll leave me. If she doesn’t I’ll have plenty of evidence to convince a judge I shouldn’t have to pay child support or alimony at the rate I would have to normally.

All in all it was simply a huge mindfuck. He could play the poor pitiful victim and I got to feel horrible and overwhelmed that all of this was happening. I felt guilty because I wasn’t more sympathetic. I felt guilty because I was angry over everything that was happening. He had moved us from our happy home to this place I had not yet adjusted to because he swore up and down that this move was what was going to make him happy. And now here he was falling apart. I danced harder and faster, trying to make things better for him. I put healing from his first affair into overdrive once I realized he knew about my Facebook page, and I again, felt guilty that I had caused him any pain. While he was busy dodging responsibility for everything I was taking responsibility for everything. It was my fault he went to the psych ward. It was my fault he was so sad. Dance, Sam, dance! Make those appointments. Go sit in that bedroom with him. Take him to the ER. Stand by his side. Make everything better for him! Bastard!

He was going to visit his mom in the hospital in May. As far as I can tell, at least from his court testimony (and let’s face it- he could have perjured himself on the witness stand), their little affair began again sometime in April or May. Wow- just like last time! He was wildly adamant that he not take a child along with him. He didn’t want them seeing him break down apparently if he got stressed out about the driving. But alas, he ended up not being able to make the drive. He called me but thanks to our phone service he couldn’t get through. He then sent me pictures of his tear stained face right before he turned around and headed back home.

I went out that night and switched our phone carrier so that I would never miss another important call like that from him. I signed a two year contract, only to find out a little over three months later that he was fucking his cousin.

In hindsight what I think really happened is that he lost his nerve for whatever reason. I don’t know why and I don’t care to explore the reasons. It’s not important to me.

But that does lead me to what I consider, if not the biggest whopper of a lie, certainly the most humiliating lie. In July shortly after the kids and I got back from Indiana and Utah we were going to leave again to go to Florida for a week. He had gone with us the year before and was supposed to go with us again. Wouldn’t you know though that he had to go on a business trip that weekend? Instead of going on vacation with us as a family he instead drove to Tennessee for a “business trip”. That wasn’t the best part.

He was so anxiety ridden about this drive. What if he couldn’t make it? What if he lost his nerve? Oh never fear! Your trusty therapist and I will coach you so that you get over your fear and anxiety and can make the drive. Yep, like I said- maybe not the biggest lie but certainly one of the most humiliating. To think that I sat there in that office telling him what a wonderful man he was, how he could do anything, how he needed to believe in himself… all the while he’s laughing his ass off at pathetic ol’ me and his stupid therapist.

11kogu

Even before that I got the story of how he was sending his mom money to help with groceries because his niece and her boyfriend came down for dinner every night. They were so broke and so young with a baby already here and one on the way. What could he do? So don’t be alarmed if you see those wire transfers. That’s just me being a dutiful son. And by the way, that $500 wire I sent was so that they could fix the van so they could trade it in for their new ride. If it didn’t run they couldn’t trade it in so again, what could I do?

I did pause a moment about that one. It must have been in early July when he told me this because I had just been to his parents’ house and ridden in the new van. She never mentioned him sending them money to fix the old van in order to trade it in. Not completely out of the realm of possibility, I suppose, but I did find it curious. I wonder what would have happened if I had mentioned that to her in a phone call. Hey, why didn’t you tell me CF had sent you $500?

On the heels of coaching my lying, cheating husband so that he could meet up with his whore cousin, he had to dig the knife just a little bit deeper. His “business trip” lasted an extra day, and then because he was so close to his mom’s house he was going to go see her that weekend. It would be a shame if he was that close and didn’t visit. Was that okay?

Naturally I was understanding. “It’s your mom! Of course it’s okay.” But looking back on it he was no closer to his mom’s house there than he was when he was in Virginia. And while he may have seen his mom, especially at the impromptu family reunion, he spent the weekend at the whore’s house, fucking her.

There was the $172 charge at Walmart in Whore Town before he was supposed to be visiting with his mom. I asked him if he was already there and he insisted he was not. He was still in Tennessee. When asked why there was a charge in Whore Town he conveniently explained it away by telling me he had given his card to his mom so she could buy a new tire. For the new van. And she had made that purchase in not-Whore Town so he didn’t know why it was showing Whore Town. I later found out he had bought the whore a lawn mower. $172 tire, my ass!

After his self-affirming trip which proved he could drive and be out in public he passed along a few other tasty tidbits- he was going to go to Blockhead’s one weekend. It was only fair because the last time Blockhead had driven all the way to Virginia so next time it was his turn. And the two of them were going to go to their West Point class reunion. No wives, of course. Just them. Lies. “Visiting Blockhead” was code for spending the weekend fucking the whore, and I have no doubt he took Harley with him to his reunion.

There was the funeral for the cousin he hadn’t laid eyes on in years but it was extremely important that he go. And no, he would not bring either of the kids, despite Rock Star wanting to go so she could see her granny. A funeral is no place for kids! Apparently, it is the place to debut your whore and let everyone know you’re cheating on your wife.

Oh, how could I forget all the lies about the damn funeral itself? I think the coaching for the drive to meet up with his mistress and the whole funeral fiasco are tied for first place when it comes to whopper lies.

First, the funeral was supposed to occur on Friday so he was going to drive down on Thursday, attend the funeral on Friday, and then drive back after it was over. On Friday I’m texting him, asking him if he’s on his way home. Story twist! In an amazing coincidence the funeral was moved to Saturday! Can you believe it? Yeah, I shouldn’t have either. He was good, though. He swore up and down that he was told it was on Friday.

Naturally, since it’s occurring on Saturday it only makes sense now to spend the rest of the weekend there, visiting with dear old Mom. How can you argue with that? What kind of a monster would be mad because a loving son is spending time with his beloved mommy? Then when called around 3 pm on Sunday, and asked if he was on his way home or about to start out, he tells me he’s going to wait until 8 because he wants to “challenge himself” and see if he can make the drive in the dark. What can I say, dear readers? I was an idiot. I kept telling myself there was no way he would possibly cheat on me again. We had reconciled! We had moved 2000 miles across the country for him! We had bought a new house, new furniture! We had put our kids into new schools! He had just bought me a new car! We had just put in a $57,000 pool! Who in their right mind plots to leave during all of this? Obvious answer now: A lying, cheating cousinfucker, that’s who.

It gets better. Around 11 pm he calls or texts (I forget which now) that he had put the keys to his mom’s van in his briefcase and only noticed it once he had been on the road for about three hours. He’s going to have to turn around and give those to her so he’ll come home tomorrow. Strangely, he didn’t make it a priority to get up early in the morning and head straight home. This was a simple six hour trip home. Had he left around 7 or 8 he would have been home around 1 or 2. He didn’t make it home until after 5 which means he didn’t leave until 11. In hindsight I suppose I should be surprised he didn’t wheel on in around 10 or 11 that night. God knows I was swallowing his lies like candy so I’m sure he could have figured something out to explain why he didn’t get in his damn car until 6 pm or so.

Do you want to hear something really sad and pathetic? On his way home, as he was on the exit ramp to our town, he rear ended a tractor trailer. He assured me he was fine (I found out after the fact) and I recall my overwhelming thought being, “Oh no! This is going to derail his progress. He’s not going to want to drive anymore.”

Yes, there I was, so worried that the poor baby was going to be traumatized after his accident. I had been feeling hopeful with all this recent “progress” and thought that maybe we would finally be able to go places- visit some wineries, check out Gettysburg, go to DC… Now we were probably starting all over at square one. Rats! I shouldn’t have worried though. He was able to make that trip every single weekend for the next six months.

As it turns out those were the last of the lies he could tell me and I would believe. A few hours after he got back home I received the message from The Saint, letting me know he had been spending his weekends with Harley.

Oh, he continued to lie: He was going to spend the weekend with Blockhead. “Oops, did I not tell you that? I thought I did,” he said when he snuck out while I was running errands.

“Send me naked pictures!” he tells me, probably with her right there by his side.

When I accidentally made his debit card inactive he was throwing a fit until I offered to drive to Blockhead’s house and give him the new card. “Oh it’s okay, baby. I’ve got my American Express and some cash. Don’t worry about.”

I should have insisted. At that point I knew where he was. I’d had his ass followed.

He lies even today. He’ll never stop. When it comes to him I follow that old adage: If his lips are moving, he’s lying.

An Open Letter to Cousinfucker, Part 2

Welcome to Part 2 of the never-ending letter to CF in response to his vomit worthy text.

Sam, let’s try to figure out a way to make this less stressful for all involved. I am saddened that you felt compelled to toss out all of my memories and my clothing.  There are so few of them in this house.  In spite of all that has happened we have a history and that cannot be erased no matter how badly you want it to go away.  So you have a choice.  You can be bitter and hateful toward me, or respect the fact that I am setting you free of the burden of being my wife.  I know you will take a hit financially but you will be well provided for, we both know that.  My attorney has you covered for the rest of your life.

So stop all of this foolishness.  Let our children know I love them and let’s act like adults and come to a healthy relationship apart from all of this.  I respect you as a mother and you have followed me around the country and I am grateful to you for that.  Let’s build a future relationship that we can both be happy for each other and our children and show them that happiness and being whole are vital to a person’s future.  I read everything you wrote on your fake Facebook page.  I know you have been very unhappy.  It’s evident in what you wrote and your depression has heightened in the past two years.  I know you will be whole without me, we aren’t good together.  So all that said I want you and I to work on this.  To be grown up about it for the sake of our children.

You want to talk about my Facebook page?  Let’s talk about it!  I used that page as my own personal blog.  There were no friends on it and I used a fake name.  You didn’t want to talk about what you had done.  It “stressed” you.  You couldn’t handle it.  So I went off and I dealt with it on my own.

You say you read everything but you obviously didn’t or you simply ignored anything positive.  Maybe 10% of what was on there was about us and not even all of that was negative. You ignored the bone analogy where I talked about how a broken bone is actually stronger once it has healed and how I could get behind that.  You missed the long post where I talked about how your affair would be nothing more than a bump in the road on our 50th wedding anniversary.

There were casual updates.  Many times I said we were doing great and things were fantastic. There was the song that I said reminded me of us now.  There was the picture of the hearts you drew on my van. All good things. Hell, I even read one where I said:  This is where I go to vent so I feel bad only talking about the negative.  Things are actually great.

The vast majority of it was keeping an eye on your paramour, which it turns out I was right for doing because first chance you got you started up with her again!

The other large part of it was processing the feelings of betrayal I felt when no one in your family would cut ties with her despite her being the other woman since she was family and all.

You think that entitles you to have another affair with the same woman?  Unbelievable!

Hey, here’s an idea.  Instead of turning to people who you were always whining to me about maybe you should have talked to me!  Maybe you could have read that and thought to yourself, “Hey, maybe I should step it up and let my wife know how sorry I am, how much I love her, and then give her all the time she needs to completely heal from the betrayal I threw at her.”  Or even taken some of the things I said and actually done them, like defending me, or not throwing me under the bus!

But no!  Your solution was to go crying to anyone who would listen, “Oh, Sam is soooooo mean!  I had an affair with my cousin and she hasn’t forgotten about it!”  And everyone around you said, “Oh, poor Cousinfucker!  She’s horrible!  You should leave her!  Your happiness is the only thing that’s important.  Don’t worry about her, the woman who has stood by your side for the last 20 years.  Don’t worry about your kids.  As long as you’re happy they’ll be ok.  Just focus on your own happiness because you are the only person who matters!” Then again you’re so busy playing the victim that the idea you may have contributed to this is completely foreign.

I was asked to forgive your affair, uproot my life and my kids’ lives, move 2000 miles across the country, move closer to your mistress, and start all over in a town I knew we were only going to because of your affair with her all in the span of a year. Instead of telling you something you didn’t want to hear because it caused so much “anxiety” for you I handled it on my own.  And for that I’m vilified and you use it to justify having yet another affair with her.  You demanded that I forgive and forget because you didn’t want to face what you had done; you didn’t want to be reminded of it.  You didn’t want to have to do anything that was difficult. It’s unfortunate that you couldn’t handle the fact that I would *occasionally* be triggered by something.  It’s too bad you couldn’t accept the fact that having everyone in your family fawning over your mistress was distressful for me.  Turns out I was right for being distressed seeing as how it was your mother who encouraged her to call you again.

And you know what the funniest part of all this is?  I was completely over it finally!  Probably around April or May.  I didn’t want to be reminded of it or her.  Isn’t that funny?  Just as I feel completely healed from your first betrayal you start messing around with her again.  Although, according to her, I was never your first choice and you only stayed because you “couldn’t liquidate your assets quickly enough.”

I’m curious.  Was that a lie you told her or is that the lie she tells everyone to justify hopping into bed with you after you dumped her?  We both know it only takes about 24 hours to “liquidate” any assets you might have had.  And you might want to let the little whore know it doesn’t matter how “quickly you liquidate your assets” you still have to hand over 50%.  But I get it; the other story sounds better.

Stay tuned! There’s more to come!

 

An Open Letter to Cousinfucker, Part 1

January 2016

I wrote this shortly after I received the famous text from CF.  I never sent it.  It got to be way too long; I essentially vomited up twenty plus years of rage and frustration and I figure if I was lucky he might read two or three sentences.  Nonetheless, I’m quite proud of it and I thought I would share.  Most of this is undoubtedly a repeat of things I’ve already shared.  There’s only so much that happened in the beginning and since I don’t speak to him if I can help it I don’t get a lot of new material.  Anyway, here it is.  Enjoy!

Sam, let’s try to figure out a way to make this less stressful for all involved. I am saddened that you felt compelled to toss out all of my memories and my clothing.  There are so few of them in this house.  In spite of all that has happened we have a history and that cannot be erased no matter how badly you want it to go away.  So you have a choice.  You can be bitter and hateful toward me, or respect the fact that I am setting you free of the burden of being my wife.  I know you will take a hit financially but you will be well provided for, we both know that.  My attorney has you covered for the rest of your life.

So stop all of this foolishness.  Let our children know I love them and let’s act like adults and come to a healthy relationship apart from all of this.  I respect you as a mother and you have followed me around the country and I am grateful to you for that.  Let’s build a future relationship that we can both be happy for each other and our children and show them that happiness and being whole are vital to a person’s future.  I read everything you wrote on your fake Facebook page.  I know you have been very unhappy.  It’s evident in what you wrote and your depression has heightened in the past two years.  I know you will be whole without me, we aren’t good together.  So all that said I want you and I to work on this.  To be grown up about it for the sake of our children.

I am not even sure where to begin with your long rambling text so I suppose I’ll begin with the obvious.  I’m not sure who you wrote that for but it wasn’t for my benefit.  Quite frankly, I’m not even sure you wrote it yourself. Secondly, you are not a victim so it would be refreshing if you could stop acting like one.  You are also not a hero so please stop acting like you’ve somehow done me a favor by cheating on me.  Again.

Do not patronize me with your “Let’s stop this foolishness and figure out a way to make this less stressful.”  Do you know how you could have made this less stressful?  You could have refrained from having sex with your cousin while you were married to me.  You could have refrained from having sex with your cousin while your children and I were on what was supposed to be a family vacation, a vacation (and family) you blew off so you could have sex with your cousin.  You could have refrained from moving me and your children 2000 miles across the country, uprooting our lives for *your* happiness, only to turn around and start up yet another affair with your cousin.  You could have been an adult and talked to me instead of turning to people who have never been there for you during your many crises.  You could have refrained from siphoning off thousands of dollars to your mistress while you lied about it and fed me a line of bullshit about it being for your mom.  You could have stood up and tried to act like a man instead of trying to convince yourself and everyone around you that you’re some hapless victim.  And as far as making this less stressful for everyone… what on earth about this is stressing you out?  You do whatever you want!  You live here during the week not caring whether there is enough in the bank account to pay bills or not, and then you take off every weekend to be with your mistress and her kids, spending money like it’s growing on trees and having yourself a fine time.

I have spent the last 2 years walking a tightrope for you, protecting you and being respectful of all your “issues”. I hid your affair from everyone in my family.  I let you get away with directing how I was allowed to heal.  I was even at the point where I was accepting the fact that your mom was going to continue to have a relationship with your mistress.  And what have you done?  You’ve thrown me under the bus time after time.  Not only that but you’ve actually had the audacity to act like you were somehow protecting me while throwing me under the bus! Half the time (if not more than half) you’ve told outright lies about me. Let’s not forget the biggie- you started screwing your cousin!  I don’t know why I continue to be amazed at how you can cheat on me, not once but twice (and with the same “woman” no less!) and yet still manage to act like you are the injured party.

To be continued…

 

The One Where My Husband Got Engaged and Harley Posts On Facebook

 

Still waiting on the judgement so I’m still posting Blasts From the Past. This one is about the time I found out CF and Harley were engaged and my daughter saw Harley posting on Facebook about “missing the comfort she had grown accustomed to.” Yeah, that comfort is another woman’s husband, bitch!

September 2015

These past 2 days have been exhausting.  I think I cried more in these last 2 days than I have in the previous 28.  I know I have because other than when I told the kids I haven’t cried at all.

So in the latest installment of “My Husband is a Giant Lying Douchebag” I find out Harley is wearing a diamond ring.  So nice they’re engaged before he’s even divorced.  He’s put a deposit down on a Great Dane puppy.  He’s interviewing for a job in Indianapolis.  And according to the whore, the last time he was discovered he didn’t have enough time to liquidate his assets to get out.  Oh, his “business trip” for Mars?  Not a business trip according to my source.  She had to go to Nashville, he said, for work and Zack went with her.  Apparently there is another trip in the works this coming weekend.  I think it’s fantastic how his PTSD and anxiety have magically disappeared!

Then there was the drama.  Whore posts on Facebook last week after her long Labor Day weekend with another woman’s husband:  Sleepless night.  I miss the comfort I’ve grown so accustomed to.  My daughter sees this.  My daughter is furious.  She sends her “father” a text, telling him it is distressing to see his mistress posting all over social media about sleeping with him.  She goes on to tell him that she knows he doesn’t give a shit about her mother but she thought he at least cared about her and Picasso but apparently not since he leaves every weekend.  She follows it up with how she gets that the whore is sleeping with him while he’s still married but maybe she shouldn’t be posting that all over social media. She signed it your daughter Rock Star X (soon to be Awesome) in case you forgot. His reply is epic:

Rock Star, I love you with all of my heart.  You and your brother will not speak to me and I know that is all my fault.  I don’t know if you will ever speak to me again but you will never be able to say that I don’t love you completely.  You ARE my daughter.  You will always be my daughter and I will always be there for anything you need.

I leave on the weekend because I am not welcome there.  I am paying for everything and I am not welcome at all.  Everyone eats and I starve even though I paid for it.  The doors are locked every time I walk out the door.  And there are now bells on it for some reason.

There is nothing on social media at all.  I don’t know who told you that or what you saw, but it was nothing that was posted by her.  I love you so much and I wish we could talk.  If you want to change your name that is your decision.  But I will always be your father.

Outstanding!  I don’t know why I continue to be amazed at his ability to make himself out to be the victim.  That was truly amazing though.  I did not see that twist coming.  He only leaves every weekend because he’s not welcome here.  It has nothing to do with the fact that he’s fucking his cousin.  If only I would cook him dinner and bring him a plate, do his laundry and let him know how happy I am that he’s having an affair and deserting us he’d stick around!  Do you KNOW these kids, asshole?

The part about the bells makes me laugh every time I read it.  Like, genuinely laugh.  And there are bells on the door now!  The inhumanity!  Can you believe it?  My brother told me if that sets him off I should put bells everywhere!

I love how on one hand he tells her he’ll always be there for her knowing that on the other hand he’s actively trying to move outside the state.  His daughter tells him she’s changing her name to my maiden name and his response is it’s her choice but he’ll always be her father?????  Hey, asshole, take a minute to get your dick out of your whore’s pussy and look around!  Your daughter is begging you to fight for her but you’re so damn busy impressing people that you shouldn’t be that you can’t see what’s right in front of your face!

My daughter is a rockstar though.  She turns right around and tells him:  First of all you’re not paying for everything and yes she is posting shit so don’t you dare try and lie to me about that.  She goes on to send him a screenshot of his little whore’s post.  Then adds:  And also nobody’s eating because everybody is so stressed about everything.  I will not eat because I have no appetite because I am so stressed.

And then once again he plays the poor hapless victim:  I didn’t see that post.  I wasn’t trying to lie to you.  And you need to eat or you are going to get sick.  But you’re never going to listen to anything I say ever again.

Eat shit and die, motherfucker!  Excuse me, I meant cousinfucker!

At the same time this is going on my mother discovers that Pastor Fake has liked this particular post.  Now, it could be Tammy Faye using his page but nonetheless, my mother saw red.  And she private messaged him.  Told him that if it wasn’t bad enough that she saw it because her granddaughter found it and pointed it out to her, she then sees where he has liked the post.  She goes on to tell him that she is amazed that he actually likes a post where this person is talking about how much she misses having Zack, Rock Star’s father and her daughter’s husband, in her bed.  You’re supposed to be a man of God, she tells him.  What is your version of the 10 Commandments?  Well done, my mother.

Best part is that all of this was done without me!  My mom saw the post, pointed out to her by Rock Star, and was furious.  Rock Star was pissed off as well.  These are called consequences, folks!  Oh, but I know it’s all my fault.

I hate him so fucking much.  Today I should have a little over $2300 put into our joint account.  It’s what he thinks he’s going to pay me in spousal and child support.  So today when he comes home for lunch I think I’m going to tell him his share of the bills so far is xxxx and he needs to pony up or he can move out.  I’m done being nice.  I tried being civil and living with him but he continues to smack me in the face.  He’s putting just enough in to cover the bills (well, it won’t cover them this pay period) and I’m left pulling money out of savings to buy groceries and anything the kids might need.  Yes, those kids he loves so much and promised that they would never go without anything!  Meanwhile, he has plenty of money to blow on his whore and her kids- diamonds and puppies and cars, oh my!  Why?  Because he takes all of his money and spends it on whatever he wants.  The money I get is spent on bills.  I’m hoping he doesn’t realize I can’t legally force him out of the house.

I’ve been working on the conversation and it goes something like this:  Your share of the household bills comes to xxxx.  He of course will be appalled that I would suggest he pay because he’s already paid in his mind.  So I say:  We’re still married, which means I’m legally entitled to half of your paycheck.  That means that you get $2400 and I get $2400.  I live here in this house and you still live here in this house.  I don’t know why on earth you think my entire $2400 should go towards paying all of the household bills while your $2400 goes towards your whore and her kids.  This is your half of the household bills so far.  I’ll let you know what the electric bill comes to when it comes in.  You can pay half or you can go live in a hotel room.  I would suggest getting your own apartment but I know you’re interviewing for jobs outside of the state so I’m sure you don’t want to get sucked into a one year lease.  I’m done living on savings to buy groceries and whatever your kids need while you live it up like a single bachelor without a care in the world.

And then if he tells me he’ll stop the money coming in to me I’ll tell him fine.  I’ll have the mortgage payments stopped.  It won’t affect my credit but it might make trying to buy a house later on more difficult for him.  You do what you gotta do and I’ll do what I need to do.  You let me know how you think you’re going to look in court when you go before a judge and try to explain why you abruptly cut off your wife of almost 21 years, leaving her, a stay at home wife and mother for over 15 years, with nothing.

More Truths Are Revealed

August 2015

Well, my dear husband is off again.  Supposedly to Blockhead’s but The Saint tells me he’s going to Harley’s.  My mother is driving down to get proof for me.  As soon as I told her she jumped in the car and went.  She’s about 3 hours into the trip.  It should take him 6 hours, assuming he doesn’t stop, if he really ever does stop.  Maybe all this anxiety stuff is just a bunch of bullshit.

He’s withdrawn $300 out of savings and he’s done it 5 times since June 22nd.  The Saint also told me he bought her 2 new iPhone 6s.  So the Verizon bill that is supposedly for his mom and Pastor Fake is actually for the whore and her daughter.  He promised her kids a Great Dane puppy and to buy her daughter a car.  That was after he fixed her truck.  He’s so dead to me.  And he is going to be in for such a rude awakening when he’s left with $1600/month.  He has to pay rent, utilities, buy gas, buy alcohol and Kodiak, and buy food.  Wonder how much she’ll want him then.

Oh No He Didn’t! Oh, Yes He Did!

Gather round, folks. I’ve got some rather juicy gossip to share. Mr. Bullshit is at it again and in rare form. What else is new, right?

I’m going to start with the biggest news first. I don’t know if I mentioned this before or not but CF had two different 401k plans. My attorney had the larger one frozen when he stopped working and we filed for a show-cause hearing. The smaller one I thought was valued at around $5000 but it turns out it was actually valued at over $10,000. Great news, right?

Wrong. It seems the judge was not clear enough. When he froze the larger 401k the shit eating chimp apparently believed he still had carte blanche to dip into any other marital assets not specifically named. Which he did. He emptied the entire 401k. He had a payout of just over $8000.

The best part? He did this in January, approximately two weeks before our show-cause hearing where his lawyer fell upon her sword for her client who chose not to attend, and pleaded for his support to be modified because her client wasn’t working, had no money and was completely supported by his girlfriend.

I was working two jobs, getting up at 3:20 am, taking care of two kids, working 6 days a week, and running myself ragged while that selfish bastard had eight grand in his fucking bank account. No doubt he had to pay for some lavish vacation or some fun item the whore or her kids wanted.

In other news, as expected he is claiming that I have kept the kids away from him. I have “severely restricted” his access and he has the sadz because of this.

That lying sonofabitch! Why would you even tell a lie that can be so easily disproven? Here’s a follow up question. In order to keep them away from him wouldn’t he have actually have had to try to see them? Yeah, that’s what I thought. Rock Star hangs up on his mother after confronting her dad upon learning of the affair and impending divorce. She’s crying. Neither of them call or text her to check up on her. Six months living in the same house as them and he doesn’t have a conversation with either of them aside from letting his son know we drifted apart after having kids. Not one damn invitation to dinner, lunch, breakfast, a movie, a walk around the block. His daughter confronts him on his whore posting about missing him from her bed and when finally realizing the dumb bitch has done exactly that he doesn’t offer up apologies. Oh hell no! Instead he whines about how he feels like a piece of furniture in our house and no one will talk to him. He starves while we all eat! Asshole walks right by his daughter, out the door and off to work and then off to a brand new life in a brand new state. He drives 12 hours round trip every weekend for six months to go fuck a whore but he can’t be bothered to drive one weekend to see his kids in more than 18 months. They are out of sight, out of mind. He doesn’t call or visit and rarely texts. When he does it’s generally about himself. But by all means let’s blame the deteriorated relationship on me.

Even better was his claim that we separated in part, not due to his affair with his cousin, but because I was mentally abusive, manipulative, and dismissive of his worsening symptoms of PTSD. I don’t even know where to begin with that bullshit.

Yes, I do. Let’s start with the obvious. I am the one that tried for years to get him help. I begged him to see someone and to get medicated for his social anxiety. After a health care provider that we both really liked swore by EMDR therapy I found a therapist who specialized in that. In fact, I’m pretty sure we used the same therapist. If not the exact one then the same practice. He went twice and then quit. I sat in an empty ER room with him for hours while waiting for him to be admitted to a psych ward when he said he was feeling suicidal, a claim he now refutes. I visited every single day during visiting hours. My mother and brother both drove hundreds of miles to come be with him. When he refused to make his follow up appointment with a psychiatrist I was the one who assured him the doctor wouldn’t commit him again. I went with him to the appointment. I’m the one who found another EMDR therapist. He wouldn’t go at first. When he finally decided to get help I was the one who called and made the appointment. Again, I went with him to every appointment. When I was no longer there to accompany him (because the kids and I were out visiting friends and family- a trip I told him I would cancel and had specifically asked the therapist if I should cancel) he canceled the appointments. Eventually he decided to stop counseling altogether saying he preferred to just be medicated. Yep, that’s the cold hearted bitch I am.

And manipulative? Oh my God! I was the one who was manipulated!

“Oh, honey, btw, if you see some wire transfers pay no attention to them. I’ve been giving my mom money for groceries. And that $500 charge was so they could fix their van in order to sell it.”

“I was thinking of getting Mom and Pastor Fake cell phones for her birthday. They’ve got pay as you go phones and I want them to have something nice and dependable.”

“I don’t write a check to Mom because this app on my phone makes it so convenient to just wire the funds to her.” Uh-huh. I’m sure it had nothing to do with the fact that I would be able to see who the money was really going to if you wrote out a check.

“Why don’t you add your mom and stepdad onto my phone? I can put up to seven lines on it. I’ve got plenty.”  And then he replies that he gets a discount through work.

“I don’t know why there is a charge at Walmart in Whore Town. I gave my mom my card number so she could buy a tire for her van.”

Hell, we moved 2000 miles across the country, away from our lives, because he manipulated the situation from his first affair. He put those wheels in motion from the moment they began messing around.

Can I remind everyone again about the time he told me he was visiting Blockhead and my mom trailed him to the whore’s house? It was on that trip that he was trying to get me to send him naked pictures. Nice!

Oh, and surprise, surprise! He’s having problems driving once again! Wow! He could drive in the rain, on a train, in a box and with a fox when he was using our home as an extended stay hotel and going to fuck his whore cousin. I still remember texting him around 3, asking him if he was on his way home and he replied that he was going to wait until around 8 pm because he wanted to “challenge” himself.

My mom, of course, thinks he’s laying the groundwork for not being able to show up for court. Fine by me!

This next tidbit is nothing but pure gossip. He is reportedly living with his fiancé, Harley the whore, and her two children.

Two? I thought she had four? Apparently, she has lost two of them. I’m assuming one of them is living with The Saint. Her daughter just graduated so she may be off to college, out on her own, or, like her younger sibling, living with dad.

All I can say is I started off at the beginning of this affair and discard with two children. I still have them both.

Finally, he reportedly needs help with the aforementioned driving, dining out, visiting friends and family, and yard work. Oh, Harley, I guess you won’t need to worry your little whore head about bringing your big strong man a cool drink while he mows the lawn. Looks like you’re going to be the one mowing the yard. Hey, maybe he’ll bring you a Pepsi.

He also claims to be unable to go to entertainment or amusement facilities.

Wow- what a dreamboat! Do you all see what I am missing out on? I’ll be honest. I think probably a good 99% of what he’s claiming is total bullshit but imagine if you will that it’s all true. Harley really hit the jackpot, didn’t she? She got him and I’m stuck with a guy that wants to go kayaking with me, wants to take me to a professional baseball game, to concerts, to the beach, to wineries and to see his home state and visit all his favorite places there.

Oh, I almost forgot. His list of stressors include engaging in an affair, separation/divorce, financial problems, starting a new job, and an engagement.

Is it me or does it seem tacky to be engaged before you’re divorced?

And can I just point out that I was accused of spending every penny he had while we were married. He had nothing to show for all the money he made. Nothing, I say! Yet his bills were paid, his house wasn’t foreclosed on, and his children had everything they needed and most of what they wanted. Now he and the whore bring home $1000 more per month than he was bringing home individually. He’s no longer paying over $1000 in joint marital debt. So how in the hell are they struggling financially? How is that possible when I was the source of everything that was wrong in his life? I’m flummoxed! Hey, at least he’s got that eight grand from the 401k, plus the additional money he withdrew from the larger 401k, right?

Harley, you wanted him. Now you’ve got him- all of him and all of his problems- financial, mental, and physical. Live it up! Tell us again how you’re so happy and you are so blessed. Enjoy those trips and shopping sprees while you can because he’s almost out of funds.

It sure sounds like the bloom is off the rose. Now the question is will they even make it down the rose petal covered aisle? Or will they marry and then divorce? So many pools to start…

Why Are You Sending Your Mom $500 Again?

July 2015

Well, today is filling up with drama.  But first I’ll catch up on what’s been going on the past few days.  Kinda chilling.

We did go to the water park on Sunday and had crab legs for dinner.  Yum!  Yesterday we went to the beach.  Had tuna fish sandwiches for lunch. Then went to the outlet mall to shop.  I got a cute Kate Spade purse and wallet.  $240 total.  Today we went to, surprise! the beach and then to Margaritaville for lunch.  It was overhyped I think.  We had to wait to be seated, the place wasn’t air conditioned; instead they had it completely open and relied on the breeze to cool you off.  It was quite expensive-  almost $75 for the lunch alone, plus I spent another $18+ on drinks while waiting.

I checked our checking account to see if any other bills had come through.  I get my little notifications for how much is in the account but I’ve had it happen where I think I have x amount and I end up having y amount because other things have come in that morning.  Thankfully, all of my purchases from yesterday came through.  But there’s also another $500 donation to my in-laws.

I’m trying to figure out why this bothers me so much because normally I would be very giving.  And I know it’s not like we’re completely struggling.  I’m curious as to what in the hell is going on that they needed $500.  I swear, if I read another post from the niece’s boyfriend to hear about their stupid fucking aquarium I think my head will explode and I’ll end up replying, “Hey, here’s an idea!  Instead of spending God only knows how much on your fucking fish why not use that money to feed yourselves so that I no longer have to!”

I just keep coming back to the fact that we can’t support them at this level forever.  We just can’t.  We’ve got a kid who is going to start college in another 3 years.  She’s not going to qualify for any financial aid so we better start saving some money now!

He sent: $100 on June 8, $500 on June 10 (to fix the car), $100 on June 16, $50 on June 22, $50 on July 3, $200 on July 8, $50 on July 13 and $500 on July 21.  Plus $149 in Western Union charges. $1550 in 6 weeks.  Good to know we’re replacing Rock Star’s gymnastics with keeping everyone in fucking his home state fed. No, Sam; he replaced Rock Star’s gymnastics with supporting a whore and her kids.

OK, we’re all doing fine.  No one is going without.  I would like to know why on earth he sent $500 and I’d also like to know how long we’re going to be doing this.  It gets ridiculous after a while.  If you don’t have the fucking money to feed your granddaughter and her baby daddy then you don’t feed them!  If you don’t have the money to splurge on your great granddaughter or buy her diapers and/or formula you don’t fucking do it!  You don’t spend money you don’t have and then turn around and give a sad song to your son so that he sends money to you and you can treat everyone around you!  I know I’m being a bitch.  I really do.  But I just have to wonder how far this is going to go.  You want to send $200-$400 a month their way, fine, do it.  But I would suggest sending a check instead of racking up additional fees. Now, Sam, if he had sent a check the gig would have been up. You would have known he was giving marital assets away to Harley. You wouldn’t have been in the dark any longer. That’s no fun! Playing you for a fool is fun!  And I would tell them, “This is what I have to send you. I’ll send $400 a month.  If you blow it all on 2 people who should be supporting themselves then that’s on you.  I don’t want to hear about how you’re going hungry because you knew what you had coming in.”  I guess that’s what I worry about.  They think it’s a free for all ATM.  Spend whatever you want because Zack will just continue to send more.  Not to mention they still associate with the whore.

And I’m still not completely convinced that he hasn’t taken back up with her.  She’s posting crap about supporting vets with PTSD.  Posting more inspirational quotes on her page.  And he’s not acting like he’s crazy about me anymore.  He’s hard to get ahold of, supposedly napping.  Doesn’t tell me he loves me like he used to.  He’s either screwing around with her again or Blockhead or Jezebel has convinced him to distance himself from me and leave me when the kids are grown.

Present Day Sam Says:  Ding ding ding!  We have a winner!  CheaterBoy is cheating again!

Hang On, Folks; It’s Going To Be a Bumpy Ride

I hate him with the fire of a thousand suns. Honestly.

I’m heading out of Arby’s this afternoon, food in hand, when I see I’ve received an email from my lawyer and her assistant. Uh-oh. That can’t be good.

The shit eating chimp and his complicit lawyer are asking for documentation of my expenses. Yes, the lying liar who lies and who has been lying for 2 fucking years or more is asking for me to verify the expenses I’ve outlined. Well guess what, cousinfucker? I’ve got receipts coming out of my ass. That’s how I arrived at the expenses I did. In fact, in some cases I actually cut you a break, you dumb sonofabitch.

Rock Star’s competitive cheer is extremely expensive considering I have to make up all the payments from June-September, minus $120/month. I’m paying $278 a month for the regular month and paying $158/month for the months she missed. I also am paying $450 for the uniform, a $500 deposit fee, and a $40 registration fee. I took the total and divided it by 12 months because the season runs all year long. I don’t actually have 12 months to pay. I have 8. So guess what? Now I’m going to ask for actual monthly fees and not an average. Suck on that!

He’s got joint credit cards that he’s never paid on listed as part of his expenses, along with the damn mortgage for our foreclosed on house!

So now I’m in the process of trying to get 2 year old statements from a closed account from the bank to prove that I have nothing to hide. My lawyer even said he was being a jerk and that he’s further victimizing me. She said, and I quote, “It’s him further victimizing you and making your life hard, and he is an idiot for doing so. He should be busting his ass in the opposite direction.”

I also now have to try to get back statements from credit cards that haven’t been paid in over a year to show that he has not been paying them.

Here comes the fun part. After more than 30 minutes on the phone with my bank I find out that I can’t get the statements from the closed joint account because… Cousinfucker changed the address on the account to his whore’s address. So they can copy them and put them in the mail but they’ll be sent to the whore’s house. Isn’t that fun?

Yeah, remember last spring when I wrote about how he kept trying to change the damn address on my accounts? I kept changing it back but finally after he lost his job I figured, “Why bother?” Well, now we know why.

I’m sure it will be a similar situation with the two credit card companies. One is through the same bank. I’m pretty sure that anything that has both of us listed is automatically going to the whore’s old house. When he moved and left his forwarding address anything that said Cousinfucker and Sam was forwarded to him so I’m sure I’ll run into the exact same scenario with the second card; he’s been receiving the bill since he left back in February of 2016 and yet claims he had no clue how to pay it because he didn’t have the information.

Needless to say, that sent me into a tizzy. Most of a lunch hour wasted on bullshit and then finding out I can’t get what I need to clear my name.

Then after a rather pleasant evening out with a friend who was celebrating her birthday I open up yet another email. Cousinfucker and his lawyer have filed a motion wanting the date of separation to be declared in August or September, instead of February. That’s not all. I was pretty much expecting that. No, the real irony is that Cousinfucker once again begins talking about the money I transferred over from checking and savings into the account in my name only. He is claiming that he paid all marital debts and expenses and that I used that money for my own purposes.

That lying, cousin fucking piece of shit! I am not the one out there buying iPhones for a whore and her kid. I am not the one having my husband unknowingly pay said cell phone bill for the whore and the kid. I am not the one buying engagement rings or puppies or moving into brand new expensive houses. I was buying food and clothing and pet supplies. I wasn’t sending thousands of dollars to my boyfriend and trying to impress kids that weren’t mine. I didn’t authorize a $300 dress for a fucking school dance or over $400 in new sporting equipment, all for kids that weren’t mine. I didn’t take weekend trips with a lover or even take my own damn kids on a luxury vacation with that money. I was a fucking stay at home mom for the past 15 years. Our kids had just been ripped away from everything they loved in their previous life and now, a year later, they’re finding out their parents are getting a divorce. He cut me off financially; he did not give a shit that he gave me enough to pay the bills and that was it. There wasn’t enough money left over for groceries, much less gas for the car, food for the pets, or anything for the kids. I guess he figured I would go out and get some high paying job in a week or two and be on my feet in no time. Fuck the kids. Fuck the kids that already had a tsunami destroy their lives. Now let’s add taking their mother away from them. Let’s toss in making them quit all their after school activities because mom now works and can’t pick up the kids after school; she also has no fucking support network because, oh that’s right, the cousin fucking nitwit moved her 2000 miles across the country and away from her friends who acted as a support network.

I don’t know why his actions enrage me so much. I expected this on some level. But to see in print that I used that money for my own purposes just galls me. He is the only one that has been misappropriating funds. He has been misappropriating funds from the very beginning. The jackass blew through approximately thirty thousand dollars in four months time and not a single bit of that was on marital debts or the marital household. It was all on shit for the whore and her kids. But yes, by all means ask me to explain myself, you giant shitbird! Ask me to verify that I am telling the truth even though I’m not the one who lied and cheated. Oh, and while you’re at it change the fucking address to every statement I need so that you can effectively tie my hands behind my back and I can’t prove you are the liar and I am the one telling the truth.

I swear to God it reminds me of our marriage. I run around doing all the work while he sits back and does nothing. I’m the one trying to get bank and credit card statements from the banks. I’m the one verifying and proving and paying for all this shit! Oh! That reminds me. That’s another thing they would like proof of- my actual legal fees because they are essentially calling me a liar and saying they don’t believe my legal fees are what they actually are. Yep, that’s the kind of thing I’d lie about. My lawyer would willingly lie for me. Riiiight. Refer back to the previous paragraph, asshole. Maybe if you didn’t change the fucking address on all of our fucking shared bills I wouldn’t have to issue subpoenas for everything I need, thereby saving on, you know, lawyer fees! You dumb, cocksucking, cousin fucking sonofabitch!

Why isn’t he jumping through hoops? Why am I the one subpoenaing all the damn records? Oh, that’s right. My lawyer says it makes me look transparent and like I have nothing to hide. I don’t have anything to hide!

He’s sitting back, chilling with the whore and new whore family, not a care in the world. I don’t think his lawyer has done the legwork on anything. She just requests copies from what my lawyer has subpoenaed. Meanwhile, I’m spending my one free hour during the day calling around trying to get crap done and placing frantic phone calls to my lawyer’s office. That seems like the way it should be, doesn’t it?

The fire of a thousand suns, I tell you. I absolutely detest that man. I cannot wait for this shit show to be over.

1dagw7

1cesdu

 

Two Months Before D-Day

Right about now I’m preparing for my divorce. I need to get stuff together so between work, kids, and the mobster I don’t have a lot of time to write. I’m going to be leaving you with a few Blasts From the Past until I can get caught up on everything I need to do for the big D! I hope you enjoy reading about my last few crazy months with CF before I found out he was fucking around with the whore yet again. Buckle up; it’s going to be a bumpy ride! 

These next few entries are from when the kids and I were back out west visiting friends. You know, since he moved us 2000 miles across the country for his dream job. 

June 2015

…. We went to the reservoir today and tonight we went to the dollar theater and saw Cinderella, which was pretty good. It has been nice being busy and hanging around friends again.
Zack is sick again. He said he had a massive anxiety attack last night and spent about 4 hours curled up in the shower and then he went in to work and threw up multiple times so he came home and spent the day at home. I hope he’s not drinking again. My mom said I should call Pastor Fake and Tammy Faye to see if they would go and spend a few days with him.
Speaking of them, the whore put up her new picture again and this time around my FIL liked the picture. Thanks! But, in my new state of grace and forgiveness and looking on the positive side of everything I am not dwelling on it and in fact, I may end up seeing if they will be around on the 29th and if they are seeing if we can stay the night with them on our way back. I think that is remarkably big of me. I also changed my MIL’s contact picture on my phone to one of our trees so I don’t have to look at Harley’s ugly face every time she calls. His nephew, Jezebel and Pastor Fake still have Whore’s picture as their contact picture though.
I am also rarely reading any of the infidelity blogs. I just have no desire to. I did briefly look at Not Hate’s today.
Lately I’ve just been unable to think about affairs or any of that stuff. I just don’t have the time or patience for it. I’d like to put it all behind me and not have to think about it. I really am trying to focus on the positives and find good in everything. I’m crossing my fingers that Zack will soon be back on the road to recovery, although he’s taken a detour while I’m away.
He missed his appointment with his therapist last Wednesday and then decided to hold off on meeting until I come back. I’m going to have to make sure he does make his appointment with his psychiatrist on the 30th. I’m not sure I’ll be back by the time of his appointment and he can’t go around canceling those. It takes forever to get on the schedule.

Present Day Sam Says: Wasn’t I a busy little spackler? Spackle, spackle, spackle! It’s all going to be wonderful. He’s going to get better and we’re going to live happily ever after. Nothing bothers me anymore. Where are those shit sandwiches? They sure do look yummy! May I have more, please?

I don’t know when they started up again. I do know the first money transfer took place in June. It wouldn’t surprise me to find that he was an anxious mess because he was finally taking that step to leave me and his kids. Of course that assumes he has a conscience and I’m not sure he ever had one. All I know for certain is that I was still doing my best to get him help so that we could be a family and live a happy life and he was throwing it all away.