One Year Later

I had been planning on writing this post several weeks ago but… I’ve been busy with a guy.

My chipper attitude is not solely due to the mobster. He’s a huge part of it but even before meeting him the clouds were beginning to part.

I fully admit I’ve been engaged in a year long temper tantrum/pity party. I’ve had brief moments of hope and happiness but the darkness would quickly wash over me again.

I also admit I have been a horrible friend, a self absorbed whiner, and a very selfish person this last year. It has been all, “Me, me, me! Listen to me wail about my pain! I’m tired. I’m poor. I hate life.”

Something has changed recently. Maybe it was my mom returning and being available to help with kids, dinner, and laundry. Maybe it was Rock Star finally get her license and a car. Maybe it was both of my kids being happy. Hell, maybe it was the fact I finally got my back support so I could breathe a little. I felt normal again. Maybe it was something as simple as cultivating relationships and feeling better at my job. Or jobs.

I’ve been thinking of putting myself out there and volunteering again. I’ve thought about doing things I want to do. I have been able to look ahead just a little bit once again.

I have a court date looming. I don’t know what’s going to happen. I hope I nail his ass and he pays for every awful, evil thing he’s done to me and my kids. If the worst happens and he gets away with his 2 year financial rape of me… well, I’ve been through Hell and I”m still standing.

When it’s all over, no matter how it ends, I will still be the better person. I’m stronger than him. I’m more capable. I’m the better parent. No matter how many times or how many different ways he tries to beat me down, to defeat me, to try to suck the joy out of life and make me want to give up and die, I will always emerge from the fire- stronger, better, ready to kick his ass.

This blog has not been a ray of sunshine for a full year. But you know what? It’s like I’ve said all along: I just have to wallow and get through this in my own time. ’Tis true. There was no way to rush it.

I had to go through every crappy feelings, every crappy experience, to get where I am. I will never be one of those people who can be grateful and optimistic when I’m struggling to survive and things are going badly. I am, however, one of those people who can look back on it all and say, “I survived. I did it. I made it through.”

For those of you who might still be in those dark days I want you to know it gets better. I can’t tell you when it will happen for you but it will happen. Don’t rush the process even though you may want to. Don’t feel guilty when you’re down and don’t try to convince yourself that you shouldn’t be feeling that way. This shit is hard. Recognize it. Accept it. Wallow in it. Let it wash over you. And then get up and get on with it.

Everybody hurts. Everybody has problems. There are so many kids out there abandoned by parents. Kids out there that have lost a parent. There are people out there going through the exact same thing as you- they were lied to, cheated on, made a fool of. People lose loved ones- perhaps a child, a spouse, a parent. Sometimes they lose homes. Or pets. We’ve all got problems.

I don’t say that to guilt anyone. Again, I say wallow in it and let yourself feel every sucky emotion. And realize you’re not alone.

I wrote once about someone looking at her life six months post break-up. At the time my life was a mess, and looking at how far I had come was not a pleasant experience. This past weekend, June 10th marked the one year anniversary of what was probably the worst day of my life. I think it was worse than finding out he was cheating on me again. It was the day that led to me losing damn near everything. It was the day I knew I was going to have to tear my kids’ world apart yet again. I knew I couldn’t keep it all together and I couldn’t do what I originally wanted to do, which was to stay put so Rock Star could graduate where she started.

On this one year anniversary I happened to be with the mobster. I paused for a moment and mentioned it, to which he replied, “Don’t think about that.”

You know what? It was okay. I  could acknowledge it had been one year since my life fell apart, and then get on with my day. I didn’t dwell. I didn’t get sad. I acknowledged it and then turned my attention to this fabulous man who drove hundreds of miles to get to me.

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Ready to Dish?

Have you been waiting on pins and needles for an update? Me too!

While there is a lot to say I’m not sure how much I want to divulge. I still have a divorce to finalize. Yep, that’s me- faithful to my lying, cheating shit eating chimp of a husband until the very end.

OK, fine. It’s due to the fact that he could accuse me of adultery and get away with not paying spousal support. I may be happy but I still want to make Cousinfucker cry. Nonetheless, I have been good.

What all would you like to know? Everything?!?! <smiles bashfully> I can’t tell you everything. I will tell you I go around grinning like an idiot all day long. He makes me happy. He makes me smile and he makes me laugh. He also thinks I’m hilarious so bonus points for him.

You know, I’ve always wondered about those people who would say they weren’t looking for anybody. They had closed themselves off and yet somehow… I always wondered how that happened that you could be minding your own business, living your life and then BAM! Out of nowhere comes the next great love of your life. How does this happen? Are you walking along when suddenly someone falls out of a tree onto your head? Hey it’s serendipity- with head trauma!

I get it now. I was walking along, minding my own business, when this guy figuratively fell out of a tree onto my head.

The resulting head injury has turned me into the world’s biggest hypocrite. Remember how I wrote about CF and his juvenile need to have me text him all the time? I get it now! The mobster and I text all. the. time. We talk on the phone for hours. We video chat for hours. I’m talking 2, 3, 4, even 5 hours. I have been running on anywhere between 2 and 4 hours of sleep a night. He tells me all the time how fabulous I look and marvels at how I manage on so little sleep. And then I feel guilty for all those times I whined about having to pick my daughter up from work after 10 pm, or bitched and moaned about how tired I was and wondered how I would ever have a social life working the hours I do.

Of course because this is real life it’s not perfect. Yours truly here managed to find herself a guy who lives in the state I just left. Thanks, CF! If you had continued to pay your damn spousal and child support we would be a reasonable distance away from one another. But no! Force me to move out of state and THEN I find this guy. It’s amazing how many ways he manages to fuck with my life, isn’t it?

I know what you’re thinking. “Why, Sam? What are you thinking?” I’m thinking a man fell out of a tree onto my head! It just happened. Kinda like those penises that “accidentally” fall into wandering vaginas, except this really did just happen and we’re not cheating on anyone. I never intended for any of this to happen. And I figure I’m easing myself gradually back into it.

Yet another example of me being a hypocrite was my declaration that I probably wouldn’t date again. Well, look at me! Yes, he’s far away but I look at it as baby steps.

He must think I’m pretty amazing though because he drove all the way here to see me and take me to dinner. Without expecting sex. He came up because he wanted to spend time with me. Again, no sex was had.

I’m not going to gush too much but suffice to say he is sweet, funny, and charming. He sends me song lyrics. He bought me flowers. He drove over 10 hours to see me. He tells me I’m amazing and marvels at everything I’ve gone through. He tells me I’m strong and beautiful and he doesn’t even care that I live with my mother.

I’ve been pretty forthright about my unwillingness to ever depend on a man again, to never allow my life to fall apart should someone else walk out on me. We were discussing this one night because he’s the exact opposite. He wants to one day get remarried. So I was explaining how I pretty much lost everything. I’ve sold off or left behind probably 95% of my belongings. I lost my house. I had to move out of state and back in with my mom. I told him point blank that I refuse to ever let myself be that vulnerable again. So after commiserating with me he tells me, “Look, I’m willing to quit my job and let you support us. That way if anything ever happens you’ll be in control because you make all the money.”

I about died laughing. I don’t know. Maybe some people wouldn’t find that story as charming as I did but I love it. That’s him. What do I need to do to let you know I’m not going to hurt you? How can I make this okay for you? He’s charming, I tell you.

Most importantly though he makes me HAPPY! Yeah, I know. I sound like all those cheaters who justify their actions because “this makes them happy.” Difference is we haven’t stepped all over other people in order to be happy. Nope! He just had to fall out of a tree onto my head.

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Shaking My Head

I honestly don’t know what goes through the mind of a cheater but I’ve got a pretty good idea, thanks to clicking on various links. The thought process defies logic.

Chump Lady is often accused of being single minded and lumping all cheaters together. Most of the people who have a problem with this are cheaters themselves, or people who want to reconcile with a cheater because they don’t want to believe their cheater is not super special. I’ve got to say though that she is remarkably dead on. Seriously! Read the cheater blogs. Read the other woman blogs. They all say basically the same thing. I’m sure the same thing could be said about those who’ve been betrayed.

We probably all come across as shrill, bitter, sexless people who deserved to be cheated on because we’re guilty of denying the cheater his or her happiness. Remember- happiness trumps everything! Don’t worry about who all you hurt or any of the destruction you cause. Your happiness is the only thing that matters.

Oh, probably those who have been cheated on but who bend over backwards to appease the cheater and their AP aren’t considered bitter. No, they’re considered to be enlightened.

I read the comments sometimes on the other sites and I think, “Holy cow! This is exactly what they mean when they refer to Dr. Simon and his whole: It’s not that they don’t see; it’s that they disagree philosophy.”

Someone who has gleefully been deceiving his or her spouse for months, writing about it in detail, talking about how the spouse falls short in every category while the AP (or APs, as the case may be) is the most wonderful, perfect person on the planet who understands him/her and is his/her soul mate, gets caught and now shit has hit the fan. What do commenters say? I’m so sorry you’re going through this. I hope it works out between you and your AP. Oh wait! That’s what they say while the writer is embroiled in the affair. I hope it works out. You deserve to be happy. Love is so precious. You deserve to be loved. You need to explore this connection or you’ll regret it forever. You two are meant to be.

Apparently those that are betrayed don’t deserve a damn thing. We’re collateral damage in the quest for happiness.

I’ve seen comments where they tell the writer that they are so sorry the cheater is in so much pain. Why? They’ve brought it upon themselves. If you want to feel sorry for someone feel sorry for the cuckolded spouse! Feel sorry for the spouse who finds his or her life falling apart once the truth is revealed. Feel sorry for the kids who are watching their family be destroyed. You can feel especially sorry for those kids if they’ve had to move out of the family home and/or leave the area and their school/friends/lives behind. Those are the people who deserve your sympathy. Not the person who has been going out and fucking strangers. Oh, I’m sorry. Fucking the new soul mate.

They speak of open marriages. Yes, that’s a brilliant solution. The cheater can still have the spouse appliance who takes care of the nitty gritty and have as many fuck buddies as he or she wishes. What a great idea! Hey, what does the betrayed spouse get? STD testing?

I always love this request for an open marriage. It seems to me that most people who are asking for one don’t quite grasp that there are rules to an open marriage as well. It’s not a free for all pussy fest (or dick fest, as the case may be). If you can’t obey a simple marriage vow that says you won’t fuck another person I’m not sure how you can handle a whole new set of rules. Or that you would even be willing to follow those rules.

No, what I think happens is the cheater thinks, “Oh! An open marriage. Now that’s something I could use. My wife can still do all her wifely duties. I won’t lose time with my kids (if that’s even something that concerns me). I won’t have to live on half of my paycheck, or forego using the wife’s if she makes more than me. I don’t lose half my 401k or any of my other retirement accounts. I don’t have to split up household items or possibly move out of the family home. And I can still go out and fuck anything that moves. All the perks of being single and none of the responsibilities. Yes! Let’s do an open marriage.

What else do you get when a cheater has been caught? Well, there’s this idea that it’s a damn shame that the cheated on spouse is making this whole thing such a public affair, no pun intended. Yes, because the problem isn’t what the lying, cheating spouse did; it’s how the lied to, cheated on spouse reacted!

I know this is way too simple for most people to believe it actually works, but if you don’t want people to know you’re a lying cheater try not lying and cheating. If you want to fuck anything that moves and deceive your spouse then pull on your big boy or girl pants and face the music. Stop whining and acting like you are the poor, aggrieved victim. You are not. You are the perpetrator.

Chump Lady was also correct when she said that cheaters take it for granted that reconciliation is always on the table and that they like controlling the flow of information.

Information is power and most of the cheater apologist’s are quick to point out when one of them is sharing too much. Don’t give all the details! Don’t tell her/him everything! Don’t be so transparent! Look to Esther Perel for advice on cheating! Sharing too many details just hurts your spouse so you’re doing him or her a favor by not not being completely honest.

Bullshit! That is image management at its finest. Not sharing the details because “it would hurt my spouse” is a load of crap. You don’t share the details because you don’t want them to know certain things. You like having the upper hand. You like keeping this poor deceived person in the dark. You don’t tell the truth because it benefits YOU!

I’ve been having an affair with Janet for 4 months. It’s over now.

is a lot different from

I’ve been having an affair with Janet for 4 months. When I told you I was staying late at the office I was actually meeting with her at the restaurant we go to every year for our anniversary. I’ve introduced her to all our mutual friends and they accepted her; we hung out with them, in fact. I’ve had her over to the house and she’s worn your clothes and we had sex in our bed. We’ve made plans to get married and be together forever. I told her all your secrets and complained about all of your flaws to her. She knows everything about you. We had sex two and three times every time we were together. She does x, y, and z, which you never did. I think I’m in love with her and cutting her off is killing me.

In the first situation you can play dumb and might still have a chance at saving your marriage. In the second situation you’ve got a lot to answer to. You no longer have the advantage of knowing everything and keeping your spouse in the dark. It’s a lot harder to convince your wife that Janet meant nothing when she knows the full story and the depth of your deception than when all she knows is you were fucking Janet for four months

So please, save the bullshit about wanting to protect the spouse you lied to and cheated on from anymore hurt. You want to protect your own ass.

And for the love of God, STOP with the “I don’t want to hurt my spouse anymore than I have.” The hurt you have caused already is tremendous. It’s like a murderer saying, “I don’t want to kill this person anymore than I already have.”

As for possibly not wanting to reconcile if your spouse outs your affair to anyone and everyone… well, aren’t you just full of your cheating self? You are taking it for granted that your spouse actually wants your lying, cheating self back. Naturally, once you let this person know you’ve been out fucking someone new YOU have a choice to make. YOU get to take your time and decide whether or not their behavior was appropriate enough for you to accept their request of reconciliation.

If you have cheated on your spouse and you truly desire to reconcile you will take whatever anger and fallout comes your way. You will accept that others may know what you’ve done and judge you. You will accept all of that as the price you pay to reconcile after you’ve cheated and deceived.

Finally, I’ve sat there slack jawed as I read various cheaters talk of standing by their spouse’s side should something awful happen to him or her. Are you fucking kidding me? I can assure everyone out there reading that if I were to be diagnosed with cancer or be in some sort of awful accident, Cousinfucker is the LAST person I would want by my side.

In fact, if I were unconscious and he were stupid enough to come sit by my bed, when I woke from my coma I would stab him with a damn scalpel. DO NOT lie to me, cheat on me, and destroy my life and then try to preserve your image by “standing by me”.

Granted, I know what a liar CF is but how devastating would it be to find out your spouse, who was by your side throughout your entire medical crisis, was actually cheating on you and lying to you that entire time? Disgusting!

At least I’m honest when I gleefully point out to others that should something befall Cousinfucker I would be the person tasked with deciding whether or not to discontinue life support or to make all medical decisions. I don’t dress it up as, “Oh, he’s my husband, the father of my children. Of course I would stand by him if anything bad were to happen.” No, you’d hear something like this:

Doctor, we need to discontinue life support.

M’am, it’s a sprained ankle.

Look, he wouldn’t want to live like this. Pull the plug!

Mrs. Cousinfucker, it’s not a life threatening injury!

I’m also not much touched by their fervent claims that they will always do right by the disrespected spouse because he or she is the father/mother of their children. Who cares? It obviously didn’t mean enough for you to not cheat on your spouse so why tout it as so powerful now? As I remarked about CF telling our kids that I was a good mother, “Who the fuck cares?” Him saying that was about the lowest compliment he could ever give me. I’m a good mom. I sure the fuck hope so considering the fact that you abandoned your children for a whore and left them with me. What? If I’d been a bad mom you would have tried to take them with you when you ran off with the whore? Or you wouldn’t have fucked a whore if I’d been a bad mom?

They are so full of shit. The excuses, the romanticizing the affairs, the bullshit… it’s almost too much to take. Yet it’s oddly comforting because you realize that they all pretty much follow the same script, and they’re all pretty much self-centered whiny babies who think only of themselves and whatever it is they want.

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The Best Revenge

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I came across a meme the other day, very much like the one above. I also came across this:

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and this:

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Logically, I know that this is all good advice. I knew this way back when I was a mere 21 years of age. There was a guy that I dated for about a month. He dumped me for one of my best friends. I briefly fantasized about being an alcoholic and watching my life fall apart, and then quickly realized neither of them would really care about the mess I had made of my life.

The stakes are higher but it’s the same philosophy now, 25 years later. Me being miserable for the rest of my life won’t make CF or Harley feel bad. Hell, if anything it would probably make them ecstatic. The thought that I can’t make it without him has to be glorious news to Cousinfucker’s ears. I’m sure he takes great satisfaction in knowing that my life has fallen to shit and that I will never have anything to call my own again. There will be no more shopping trips, no more vacations, no more day excursions, no splurges. My kids will never have anything they want anymore. I can’t afford it and I doubt I ever will. That must make him and the whore so happy.

If I killed myself tomorrow, or was diagnosed with cancer, or just had a heart attack like I’m hoping for, he wouldn’t feel shame or regret or guilt. No, he’d be dancing on my grave, thanking me for letting him off the hook for child and spousal support. Oh, did I say thanking me? No, he’d never actually thank me. He would dance gleefully and probably shout out loud about how happy he was that I was so stupid and pathetic, though. Ding dong the witch is dead!

In my head I KNOW all of this. I know that the best revenge is living well. I know the best revenge is to be awesome and amazing and to show him that I don’t need him and that the kids and I are doing great without him. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me suffer. I want him to hear that I’m doing awesome without him, that I have a full social life and I have a great career and I’m making money and I don’t need him to support me (although I will take his money- I earned every dime). I don’t want him thinking he’s broken me because, honest to God, I sometimes think that’s exactly what he tried to do with his cross country move.

I sometimes think he wondered to himself, “Hmmm… how can I destroy Sam? She’s way too happy for my tastes. I need to knock that bitch down a peg or two. How can I make her suffer? I know! I’ll move her across the country and take her entire life as she’s known it for the last eight years completely away from her. I’ll move her to a desolate place where she can’t get involved and will have few friends so that she must rely on me. I’ll give her everything she’s ever wanted. And then, when I’m the only one she has and when she has everything she’s ever wanted, I’m going to walk away and leave her empty handed and completely alone. She will never recover. Finally, she will know what it’s like to live life like me- never happy, always miserable.”

Yep, that about sums it up, I believe.

So knowing this, knowing I don’t want to be pitiful and knowing I don’t want him to beat me the question then becomes HOW do you do this? How do you rise? How do you live your awesome life? How do you find happiness in a world of gray repetition? It’s a nice little quote but it doesn’t offer much guidance.

How happy am I supposed to be when I’ve lost everything? I’ve lost my house. I own very few possessions. I live with my mother. My husband cheated on me with HIS COUSIN, for crying out loud. I work two jobs, both of which pay a whopping $11/hour. I’m NOT living a fabulous life. I’m just not.

It is demoralizing to get up every fucking morning at 3:20, work stocking shelves at Job #1 and then get ready to work as a damn bank teller for another 9 hours. And the end result isn’t a fantastic lifestyle. No, it’s being able to barely pay my bills, put food on the table and buy household necessities. Or as I prefer to put it: I don’t have to choose between wiping my ass and eating.

Rock Star wanted to know if I could take her clothes shopping. I had to tell her no. After years and years of being able to indulge her whenever she wanted to go shopping, I can’t drop even $100 on clothes for her once in a blue moon. I don’t find anything happy or fabulous about that.

She wants a car so badly. She was promised a car when she got her license. Then her dad lost his damn mind. There is no car, and again, I so badly want to make her happy. I would love to present her with an inexpensive car. Obviously, if I can’t afford to take her clothes shopping I can’t buy her a damn car.

I hate not being able to go places. I hate the fact that I won’t ever get to take my kids on vacation again. I hate not being able to spend money like I used to. It sucks! Anyone who says that money doesn’t buy happiness doesn’t know where to shop! The fact of the matter is money problems are the leading cause of arguments and disagreements within most marriages. It’s a huge stressor in people’s lives, and more than a few people have actually divorced over it. Money may not guarantee happiness but it certainly helps. I prefer not having to worry about how I’m going to pay my bills over worrying constantly.

Because I get up at 3:20 in the morning and don’t get home until around 6 every day I have no energy to go and do things after work. I think about volunteering somewhere but the truth of the matter is when I finally get a chance to go home I want to take it. I want to go home and chill for an hour or two before I need to go to bed so that I can get up and do it all over again.

I work 6 days a week most weeks.  That means I have one day to catch up on everything I need to do. While I do get off work by 9:30 at the latest on Saturdays keep in mind I’ve been up since 3:20 am. If I don’t take a nap on Saturday and I run around getting stuff done then I’m conked out early-  like 7:30 or 8:00.  I usually don’t want to go anywhere. It’s exhausting. If I go and do something and run all day on Sunday then that means I have to go another 6 days at full speed before I get another chance for any downtime.

Then we add in the fact that he moved me 2000 miles away from my life and then, just as I was adjusting, I was forced to move again. I have to start all over and I’m tired of starting all over. I’m tired of reinventing my life again and again. I’m in a town I don’t want to be in. My friends all have lives of their own. I do not have a jam packed social schedule. I don’t even have a moderately packed social schedule; the last time I went out with any friends was approximately 6 weeks ago. My friends who would have had me over for a night of drinking or who would have gone out with me or kept my mind off of the hell I’m living or who were actually going through the same crap all live 2000 miles away. I rarely go out and do anything with anybody I know. I’m tired of MeetUp groups. I have no desire to start attending church again. I can’t get involved at my kids’ schools because I work constantly. I can’t even help out at the track meets because you need to be there by 5 and I wouldn’t get there until at least 5:30.

So I don’t have this great new social life. I don’t have a life that is full of activities that I enjoy. They don’t exist anymore. I don’t know anyone. Or rather, I have about 3 people in my social circle and they are unavailable most of the time. Quite honestly I think I’m being very generous when I say I have 3 people in my social circle. I used to have PTA, and Bunko, my neighbors, my fellow gym moms. I was a hockey mom. I volunteered for my son’s T-ball team. I have none of that anymore. I will never have it again. That part of my life is gone. He made sure to take it all away. I don’t know what to fill it with. I don’t know where to go to get involved. I don’t have the time or inclination to do it anyway. Like I’ve said before I’m tired of wasting my time with dead end events that never go anywhere. I have no desire to go walk dogs or take hikes or to go out and sit in bars with people I don’t know and end up having nothing in common with.

Yet there is a part of me (a very small part) that says I need to somehow keep trying because I will never find a new, fabulous life sitting in my mom’s living room. I didn’t get my old life by sitting at home. I got it by putting myself out there and reaching out. I didn’t meet some of my very best friends by watching TV and eating cookie dough. I did it because my daughter was involved in gymnastics and I would sit with some of the same parents. Some of them I really clicked with and we are still friends today. But I wasn’t working 55 hours a week then either. If I wasted some time it was no big deal because I had plenty of it to spare.

There is a big race coming up this summer. I have thought about training so that I can run. I only have time to do a 5K, as opposed to a 10K. But let’s be realistic. I’m up at 3:20. I work from 4-7. I come home, get ready for my second job, and then work until 5:15 or thereabouts. I head to pick up my daughter and finally get home around 6. I honestly don’t see myself strapping on my tennis shoes and going out for a run. I’m a very slow runner so eventually running 3 miles would take me almost 40 minutes. Take a shower. Eat dinner around 7. After I’ve reheated it because my mom is not going to eat at 7. She’s got dinner ready no later than 6! And then I have maybe an hour or two before I need to go to bed.

I’ve even thought about joining a gym but the same questions plague me. When would I go? My mom usually goes in the morning. She doesn’t want to wait until 6 or later. Now I have to actually drive somewhere so that’s taking even more time.

I see people traveling and taking vacations. I don’t have the money for traveling or vacations. I see people getting involved in things they love. I don’t have the time and I don’t know what I love anymore. That’s the truth. Everything I enjoyed was taken away from me and now I have to start over yet again and I have no clue what I want to do if I even had time to do anything.

I sometimes think the reason forgiveness and this whole “living well is the best revenge” tripe is so popular is because they have all these nifty phrases. Vengeance gets a bunch of warnings and people pleading with you to take the high road. No wise words. No inspirational memes.

I don’t think I’m going to be getting any sort of “revenge” on Cousinfucker and Harley anytime soon. That’s okay, though, because I prefer Confucius’s warning about revenge:

 

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I’m fine with that. I’m willing to go down with the ship in order to take him down. It’s not like I have anything else. My happiness is nonexistent so I’ll stick with making sure I can make him miserable as well. Living that insanely happy life is probably a better form of revenge but I don’t think I’m ever going to get that so this is all I’ve got.

 

Let’s Try This Gain a Life Thing Again

My sweet friend J called me Saturday morning, late, wanting to know if I’d like to go to lunch with her. I had just got home around 10:30. Of course because I was hoping for a low key day the truck on Saturday was huge and I ended up staying until almost 10. I picked up carpet shampoo and things for breakfast and dinner. Picasso asked for breakfast burritos so I obliged.

Anyway, despite being tired and planning on taking a nap before I tackled cleaning the house, I said sure. I had to drop Rock Star off at a restaurant to meet a friend to work on a paper (Whew! That was a mouthful!) so we decided to go to lunch at the same place. Afterwards we drove over to where Rock Star works and took a walk. Then we went for ice cream! I was going to treat her since she bought lunch but she wouldn’t hear of it and insisted on paying for mine. Finally, we went to Kohl’s since I had some Kohl’s cash to spend. I got Rock Star a shirt she had liked and a cute little necklace that was on clearance and I got Picasso two t-shirts.  This one is my favorite:

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Sunday my dad and stepmom came up to see the dogs and take us out to lunch. Yes, they really do travel to see my dogs. I’m not sure what will happen when the dogs die off. I’ll probably never see them again. Okay, it’s not that bad. They do drive up for the kids’ events as well. I think they just love driving because they’ll drive two hours, spend an hour and then return. My dad once traveled over 20 hours out my way and spent a single night. Granted he was already on a trip and I was simply a layover, but still. I drive but I stay for a while, too.

I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m always going to be tired. I even agreed to come in on Wednesday at Target so I’ll be working there six straight days this week. But I need the money so I guess I will try to look at it as, “Thankfully I’m able to make more money this week.”

Tired is my new default mode. I figure if I accept it and stop bitching about it maybe it will seem okay. So even when I’m tired I’ll force myself to go to games, attend conferences, go out with friends, make an attempt at creating a new life for myself. I’m sure Cousinfucker would love to hear that my life is total misery. Some days I say, “Who gives a fuck?” but today, for at least a little bit, I don’t want to give him the satisfaction. For today, at least for a little bit, I won’t lay down and die. Today, I won’t let him break me or win. At least for a little bit. I may change my mind tomorrow.

This is the cute little bracelet I bought for myself (thank you Kohl’s credit card) on Saturday. It is a reminder to me to try to brighten my attitude.

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It’s not just cheaters that need to be reminded that their happiness is their own responsibility. I need to remind myself of that as well.

I won’t lie. It’s hard most times. My life has done a complete 180 compared to what it has been. But as I’ve written about before if I drop the rope and accept that the old life is completely gone then maybe I can find some good in this new one. Like, being able to pick up shirts for my kids. It’s not the shopping sprees I was able to go on but it’s something. Or, making breakfast burritos for my kids because that was what one of them had requested. Maybe Saturday morning breakfast will become a thing for us. I can go to work at 4 am, come home, make breakfast and we can spend some time together before Rock Star is off doing something. It’s not what I ever would have asked for but it’s what I have so I may as well try to embrace it. Maybe instead of dreading Christmas once again this year we can come up with some inexpensive traditions to make the holidays merry and bright. Perhaps I’ll become very good at doing things on the cheap and my kids will still have some fantastic memories instead of dwelling on all the things we no longer have.

Here’s to “bee”-ing happy despite everything.

 

What If There Is No Life To Gain?

I wrote this post a few days ago. I actually rewrote it because the first edition was enough to make me want to slit my wrists. It was really pitiful. Believe it or not this is the sunnier version and it’s still not all that sunny. I wanted to post it anyway because despite having a fairly decent weekend, and despite having a more hopeful disposition in the past 24 hours, I spend most of my life feeling the way the post describes. Who knows? Maybe a change is a comin’. That would be delightful. For today, however, you’re left with this.

The motto over on Chump Lady is, “Leave a cheater, gain a life.” I’ve read many inspirational stories about people who have done just that. They’ve received promotions, went back to school, finished Masters or PhD programs, traveled, done fun things with their kids, remodeled or bought houses, got a new family pet, took back their lives, stopped walking on eggshells, found out that life without the cheater was fantastic, etc.  Good for them. Sincerely. These are the questions I’m always left wondering:  Did you have a job when you got divorced? How old were you when this happened? How long had you been married? Did you lose everything when you got divorced? Did you have to sell off all your furniture and belongings and leave whatever you couldn’t sell behind? Were you moved across the country and then forced out of your house, forced to move hundreds of miles once again, or do you still live in the same city? Did you have to yank your kids out of their schools once again and make them start all over? Did you move in with your mother or father or some other relative that took pity on you because without them you’d be homeless? Were you left with nothing but debt? Did your shithead ex quit his or her job after 15 years of making 6 figures and leave you destitute? Did a judge take pity on them and slash their support obligation by almost half? Were you old, fat and pretty much used up when they left for the shiny new whore?

I try very hard to hold on to that inspiration. To this belief that there is a new life out there to gain. A better life. One that will be so good that I won’t miss anything about my old life. But honestly? There is absolutely nothing that I find appealing about this new life I’m living. Believe me- I would love to say those words I just wrote: I have created a new life for myself and it is so much better than anything I lived with Cousinfucker. But the fact of the matter is, despite that 14 part bitch list I shared, I wasn’t unhappy.

I had things I enjoyed doing- Bunko, PTA, Teacher Appreciation, hockey and gymnastics for my kids. I got to travel for gymnastics meets, go shopping and buy whatever I wanted within reason, get my hair colored and cut at an actual salon instead of out of a crappy box and Great Clips. I knew lots of people. I had fantastic neighbors. I carpooled. I had lunch with friends. Hell, I had friends. I kept busy. I was able to go to all of my kids’ events. I drove them around everywhere. They were my life.

My husband wasn’t much of a partner or a father, but the kids and I got along without him. And he did join us occasionally, especially right after he was caught in his first affair. I figured out a way to be happy and fulfilled even if I didn’t have a husband who wanted to do everything with me and be by my side every minute of every day. I liked my old life, especially the one I had before we moved to Whoreville.

Now my life consists of drudgery. I work and I sleep and if I’m very very lucky I run my kids around. That’s it. I work approximately 55 hours a week. I work 6 days out of seven on a regular basis. I begin my day at 3:20 am, leave the house at 3:45 and get home sometime between 5:30 and 6:00 4 days out of 5. I dread pretty much every single day because it’s just more of the same- get up at an ungodly hour, go to work, come home, take Rock Star to school, head back home to get ready for the second job, go to work, come home, repeat. Also, make sure you’re in bed before 9 unless you’ve got to pick up a kid from a game or work. In between getting home from work and going to bed I enjoy the following fun activities: emailing teachers and/or counselors, making sure we still qualify for Medicaid, filing taxes, doing laundry, cleaning the bedroom, shampooing carpets, washing dishes, making dinner, feeding and watering the dogs, picking up Rock Star from practice, taking her and picking her up from work, and taking out the trash.

I know I should feel inspired by the stories on Chump Lady but I don’t. Every time I read them it’s like a kick in the gut once again. Promotion? Career thriving?  Making more money than I ever did when with the cheater? I didn’t even have a fucking job! I hadn’t worked outside of the home since early 1998! My big accomplishment was getting a seasonal part-time job that paid me $10.50-$11 an hour. I followed that up with getting a full-time job that also paid an amazing $11/hour. The kids and I live on approximately 15% of what we used to live on. It sucks. I hate being poor. The reality is he waited until I was middle aged and out of the workforce for far too long before he left. I don’t think I will ever get even close to living the same kind of life. I’m not sure I’ll ever even get to the point where I only have to work ONE job as opposed to two. There are not a lot of job opportunities for middle aged women who are starting over at the very bottom. Plus, we’ve already established that I suck at my new job so it’s not like this is going to lead anyplace.

Traveling? Having fun with my kids? I don’t have any money! Where the fuck am I going to travel? Hop in the car, kids! We’ll take a drive down the road, cross the state line and call it a vacation! Or maybe I’ll take them to Steak-n-Shake and we can get one of their $5 meal deals. No milkshakes, kids; Mommy is poor and Daddy is busy faking PTSD so that when he finally gets a job all of his money can go to his whore and her kids.

I remember one woman saying she created a scrapbook of things she and her kids had done since the divorce. I seldom do fun things with my kids anymore; again, I don’t have the money. Or the time. I also rarely see them anymore. Picasso is usually holed up in his room playing video games with his friends but even if he wasn’t I wouldn’t be around. Between my schedule and Rock Star’s schedule driving her to school and to work are about the only times I get to see her. Thank you, Cousinfucker, for ensuring that the last 2 years that my daughter lives at home I never get to see her. You chose to abandon her. I didn’t. And yet I’m the one that gets to continually pay for your choices.

Remodeling a house? Buying one on my own? Don’t. Make. Me. Laugh. I live with my mother, for crying out loud. If I didn’t we would be homeless. I’m not joking. I don’t make anywhere close to enough to pay rent somewhere, much less rent and utilities.

Finishing a Masters or PhD program? Snort. When exactly would I have time to go back to school between the two jobs and raising my kids? Something would have to give. It couldn’t be the jobs because I need those to pay my bills, take care of my kids, and pay for this magical schooling. Plus, I’m almost 48. I need to carefully consider whether or not someone would be willing to hire someone at my age fresh out of school. Getting discarded in your late 40s holds a few more challenges than being discarded in your 20s and 30s. Not as bad as being discarded in your 50s and 60s, I suppose, but still not a great position.

No longer walking on eggshells? Life being so much easier and stress free now that the cheater is gone? Pshaw! I have an uncanny ability to put up with tons of bullshit. It’s not like we ever walked on eggshells around Cousinfucker. If he was in a mood I just ignored him and left him to his own devices. He was probably sexting whores but I didn’t know that at the time. I just went along my merry way, doing my own thing while he pouted and sexted. I would say that this new life is the more difficult and stressful one.

Someone else said she took spin classes and met up with friends when her child was gone. After already putting in a 14 hour day I’m in no mood to do any exercise of any kind. Not spin class. Not yoga. Not aerobics. Nothing. Maybe, possibly, I might enjoy a good ol’ boxing or kickboxing class IF I can pin a picture of Cousinfucker and Harley on the bag and proceed to kick the shit out of it. Honestly, though? I’m probably too fucking tired to even do that. It all sounds great. Oh yeah, after work I’m going to lace up my running shoes and run 3 miles. Or, I’ll hit the yoga studio. Or, I’ll pretend I’m beating Cousinfucker and Harley to a fucking pulp at kickboxing class. The reality is that time kicks your ass. When you’re getting up at 3:20 in the morning 6 pm rolls around and you suddenly find yourself tired. You’ve been up for almost 15 hours by this time when most people have been up for maybe 12. Hell, I didn’t used to get up until after 7. You’ve put in a thirteen hour workday and you know you get to turn around and do it all over again the next day! It’s not like this is an aberration. No, this is your life.

Plus, Cousinfucker moved me away from all of my friends so it’s not like I have this huge support system and we get together and drink wine or do fun things together. The friends I have from my hometown have lived a life without me in it for 20 years now. Their lives are full and I make up only a tiny part of it. That would be fine if I actually had something to fill my life with outside of them; unfortunately, I don’t. So there isn’t much of a social support network.

They always counsel us to find something we are passionate about, something that we enjoy doing. I had those things. They were all taken away. I have roughly 2 1/2 to 3 1/2 hours each night to devote to “my passion”- if I never want to see my kids again. And if I can afford it. And if I’m not too tired. Or I can take my one day off each week and use that to devote to my unknown passion. Fuck the dishes. Fuck the laundry. Fuck the kids. It’s all about me. Only I’m not like that. I’m not going to desert my kids, especially not after their father has done so. I have so little time and I’m always tired so whatever I end up doing I would like it to be something that I really do love and care about. I don’t want to fill in space just to fill it in. That’s what all these Meetup groups feel like. I’m afraid that’s what church is going to feel like. That’s what I think a divorce support group will end up being.

I don’t know what I’m passionate about. Everything I knew and loved was taken away from me, even before Cousinfucker started fucking his cousin. My life as I knew it has been obliterated. It has been filled with work and poverty and trying to raise two kids while poor yet working nonstop. I hate it. I absolutely fucking hate what my life has become.

There is a part of me that says, “Try to get involved with a theater group. You loved that once.” But then there’s another part that says I’m too old to get any decent parts and yet another practical part that says, “Hey! Plays take an enormous amount of time and commitment. You don’t really have any time to spare. And if you do what’s going to happen to your kids? Are you going to abandon them, too? You’re already down to 2 1/2 to 3 1/2 hours a night with them. If you do this then you’ll really never see them. And who will get your daughter where she needs to be?” So I’m afraid that will be put on the back burner at least until I no longer have kids in the house, and probably indefinitely. Yet another thing I waited too long to reclaim.

I have no joy in my life. I have brief moments where I laugh at something funny one of my kids says. I occasionally will have a day where things are going right for me so I get a 24 hour period of relief. There was the moment my daughter finally was happy. I’m glad for her but I’m not happy. I don’t think I’ll ever be happy again.

For the most part I just exist. I’m numb. Life is neither good nor bad. It just is. I’m just here killing time, counting down the days, the weeks, the months, the years. My life consists of working all day long and then running to and fro for my daughter who doesn’t have her license yet. I don’t really look forward to anything. I don’t even look forward to or find joy in attending my kids’ events because it just means a longer day for me. It’s one more thing on my list of things to do and I’m already exhausted most days. The last thing I want to do is go for another 2 or 3 hours when I’ve already been going for a good 14 hours or more. I dread most days, actually. I can’t even begin to count the number of times I’ve stumbled out of bed at 3:20 in the morning, got ready and headed off to Target and thought, “This is my life now.” There is a certain feeling of defeat when you realize that this is your life and it’s never going to get any better. You realize you are never going to live a good life again. You will never take another vacation. You will never get to travel to places you’d love to visit. You won’t be able to ever take your kids to DisneyWorld. You will never be able to go shopping or buy your kids things just because. You’ll never be able to give them grand gifts or surprise them with something they’ve wanted for a while. You will never own your own home; hell, you may not even be able to afford to rent your own apartment. You realize that you will struggle in poverty for the rest of your life. That you will always be pinching pennies and remembering the life you used to live- the one where you didn’t have to worry constantly, the one where you had a home of your own, the one where you had furniture and household belongings and friends and joy. It was a life I didn’t dread and wish away.

I keep hearing about this new and improved life. I really wish I could create it. Unfortunately, with the choices Cousinfucker has made I now must spend the bulk of my life working for very little money, which leaves very little left over to create any kind of new and wonderful life. I would love to report soon that I love my life, that I’m happy and content. First I heard give it six months. Then I heard give it a year. Now I’m hearing give it two years. Well, I’m a year and a half out from D-Day and I’m no closer to Meh or to a new and improved life than I was 2 weeks after that day. Perhaps I shall begin the countdown anew once we are officially divorced.

My Ideal Man

A fellow blogger, SeekingGod2, wrote a post the other day asking about requirements in a future mate. I’m not going to regurgitate his entire post, or what his requirements are; you can go on over and read it if you want. I thought it was a really good question though. How many of us had requirements the first time? Did you stick with them, or did you let some of those requirements slide because you were madly in love? Do you think that not keeping to those requirements resulted in divorce/adultery/whatever situation you are in now? Do you have requirements the second time around?

SG2 admits he let some of those standards go, and now he’s wondering if the second time around he should take a hardline approach to those standards. That poor guy is probably ruing the day that he told me to speak up and not be shy. “I want to hear what you have to say!” Oh boy! I have told him most of this, but since I was commenting I didn’t want to turn his comments section into my own blog post. Here is what I think…

I think a lot of people have lists of what they want in an ideal mate. I think a lot of times those ideals are unrealistic and don’t really tell you jack about the person you’re with. I’ve heard of people whose list of requirements included must be tall, must be circumcised, must be smaller than her, must not be an addict in anyway even in recovery, must not have kids, must be uncircumcised, must have a college degree, must own their own home, must drink, must not be too hairy, must have a job and be self-sufficient. To be clear this is a sampling of at least 5 different lists. I also think that many times we meet someone, have this “instant chemistry” and then all common sense goes out the window. I know I always said I wanted someone with washboard abs, the face of an angel, a Harvard law degree, and who wanted 2 children, a dog, and summer home, but this guy is so dreamy and we have such chemistry. Who cares if he’s on Baby Mama #3 and doesn’t support any of his kids, or that he hasn’t had a job in three years and couch surfs because his parents finally kicked him out of their house after he moved back in once Baby Mama #2 kicked him out for cheating? We have chemistry and we’re in love!

I think it’s fine to have standards and to stick with them. I think it’s wise to not get caught up in the chemistry because those initial highs are going to wear off and then what are you left with?  However, I also think you need to take a hard look at those standards. Do they tell you anything about your prospective mate?

If I look back on my meeting with CF and everything I know about him I would say that he had a very impressive resume´ for lack of better word. He was smart- class president, class valedictorian, probably president of the National Honor Society. He told me he took physics in college to keep his GPA up. He was athletic- captain of the football team, captain of the baseball team, wrestler. There were numerous write ups in the local paper about him, especially his prowess on the football field. He had been drafted by a professional baseball team. He was offered a full ride pre-med scholarship at a very good school. He went to a prestigious college. He was a military veteran. He had a good job with a lot of potential. He’s also a liar and a cheater.

His sister, Jezebel, is very physically attractive. We could argue about her intelligence. Some say she’s dumber than a stump and CF always liked to tell the story of how she was so excited to get a 6 on the ACT because it was higher than her best friend’s score of 4. I think she’s not nearly as dumb as she would like people to believe. She’s also a talented singer. Regardless of how pretty she is, how talented she is, or how intelligent she is or is not, she’s a liar and a cheater, too.

And Harley? Well, I don’t consider her to be stunningly beautiful; she does have a Masters degree though so she must not be too stupid. Bonus points- she makes good money! But again, she’s a liar and a cheater.

So this begs the question… did your marriage implode, or did you experience infidelity, because you didn’t stick to your standards? Or, perhaps it was because the person you believed in didn’t have very good character. I tend to believe an intelligent person can blow up a marriage just as easily as a stupid person. The intelligent person might even be able to lie, cheat, gaslight, and blame shift better and longer, thereby doing more damage in the long run. I think an ugly person can cheat just as easily as a pretty person. No, really! Affairs are about how the other person makes you feel. Not everyone who cheats is attractive. And not all of the APs are anything to look at either! I think a person with a good job and/or their own home can destroy your trust just as easily as a person who makes minimum wage and rents. In fact, I would argue that we’re more likely to trust the person with the good job. It’s easier to overlook some of those things that make us say, “Hmmm….” I was taken in by show towels, for crying out loud!

I don’t really believe dating is in my future but if I did dive back in I think I would focus more on character than anything else. Did this person cheat on his spouse? That’s an immediate deal breaker. Nope. Nada. No way. Don’t care what the excuse is. You cheated; you’re out! If he’s divorced how does he speak about his ex? Is this person a good dad? Has he abandoned his kids? That’s another automatic out. I’m not going to be with a guy who has walked away from his own kids and yet wants to portray himself as Father of the Year to mine.  How does he treat people? Does he talk down to servers and sales people, or his subordinates? Is he kind? Does he have integrity? Is he honest? Does he like animals? Does he want to spend time with me, or will I be off doing everything on my own again? Will he go to festivals and movies and funerals and class reunions and weddings with me? Do we have things in common? If we have a lot of different interests would I be willing to learn about his interests and vice versa? Just because I haven’t done something doesn’t mean I’m not open to eventually doing it. How does he handle stress? Does he fly off the handle, curl up into a ball, or face the problems head on? Is he a drama queen? Does he fly into a rage when things aren’t going well? How well do we communicate? Does he avoid things or will he handle things head on? Do we have similar views on money and spending? Naturally, since I have 2 kids it would be important that he liked my kids and treated them well. I wouldn’t expect him to come in and play Daddy 2.0 but he can’t mistreat them, be jealous of them, or get irritated with the demands they place on my time. I will never be one of those people who puts a romantic partner before my kids, especially when they are still minors. What do we each want out of this relationship- casual dating, exclusivity, living together, eventual marriage? What kind of relationship does he have with his family? With his friends? What are his religious views and how do they compare to mine? Is he a homebody or a social butterfly? More specifically, is he going to refuse to interact with anyone outside of his very small circle?

Many times people think they know a person because they know all of these things about a person. Joe is 6’3 with brown hair and blue eyes. He’s a 5th degree black belt in karate, loves to go camping, and hates golf. His favorite color is red. His middle name is David. He’s got 3 sisters, a brother, and a Pug named Piglet. He works in sales and makes good money. His favorite holiday is Halloween and he loves the winter because he likes skiing and riding on his snow mobile. He graduated from UNLV but hates Vegas, and would love to one day move to New Mexico.  Wow! That’s an impressive list about Joe, but it doesn’t tell us anything of substance.

I’m not saying people shouldn’t have standards or a list of requirements. By all means, have them! But figure out what’s really important to you.

I can’t believe I’m about to write this but in some ways we’re luckier the second time around. We can take our time and choose wisely. There is no pressure to settle down, get married, have kids, buy a house, act like a grown up. We’ve done all that. At least for me I have no pressure to get married. I have no desire to remarry, in fact. I don’t have a biological clock ticking because, let’s face it, I’m of “advanced maternal age” and it’s just not going to happen. More importantly, I already have two children. They’re fabulous! I don’t even feel compelled to couple up because almost all of my friends are. Seriously, how is it possible that the divorce rate is supposedly 50% but almost everyone I know is either married or has a significant other??? Just tossing that mystery out there. I don’t feel compelled to couple up. I am perfectly content to do things on my own. Truth be told I’m in no rush to do someone else’s laundry, pick up after them, make their appointments, or cook their dinner for them, especially when I don’t feel like cooking.

If I were to do it again, to date again, and find someone that I liked enough to date seriously (but not marry!) what would my own list look like now? Stay tuned and I’ll let you know tomorrow.

Is It Healthier To Divorce?

 

This was a question posed on an internet forum. The situation was a man who was miserable in his marriage; it was killing him. Yet, he stayed for his kids. The debate was whether or not this was healthy.

The person who initiated this debate went on to detail how miserable she had been in her own marriage, how it had been slowly killing her and she didn’t think her husband would ever change. She then goes on to talk about how happy she is now and how good divorce was for her.  She’s remarried. She has 2 more children. She went back to school to get her Masters. She has a husband who makes enough money that he could support her while she was doing this, plus basically support the family because she made very little money at her job. She did say towards the end that divorce was a huge positive for her and probably a little bit of a positive for her daughter.

That was what I thought was so interesting.  The question was, “Is it healthier to divorce rather than to stay for the sake of the kids?” The answer, however, had nothing to do with the kids; it revolved around the parent’s happiness.

Another person chimed in and said she thought it was hard to apply that as a concept to everyone; it really needed to be discussed on an individual basis. She also said she didn’t think kids really gave a squat about parental happiness, so long as it wasn’t in their face. I tend to agree with that.

Obviously if there are knockdown, drag out fights between the parents, or everyone in the house is walking on eggshells it’s not a good situation and the kids would probably rather the parents divorce.  That’s the problem though. So many of these situations are presented as A or B.  Either the parents are living in a tense, hostile situation fraught with yelling, screaming, and potential physical violence, or the parents divorce and everyone is happy with their new lives.

In my situation I wouldn’t describe our home life as tense or volatile. He scampered up to the bedroom most of the time. We occasionally went out as a family and had a wonderful time.  The kids and I were always “allowed” to go into the bedroom if we wanted to converse with him.  He wasn’t angry and hostile towards me or the kids. We functioned somewhat unconventionally but I don’t think my kids were unhappy or afraid.

Another issue that was raised was how children will be happy if their parents are happy. The first commenter thought that it would be very hard to disguise your unhappiness around your kids and that even if you could it could lead to some long term complications where you compartmentalize problems instead of facing them head on.

To all of that I say, “Bullshit!” First, I wasn’t always wonderfully happy in my marriage. I knew that there were things that other couples did that we didn’t do- go to movies, out to dinner, to church, running errands, sleeping in the same bed…  I knew it wasn’t normal to barely spend any time together.  I knew it wasn’t normal to have him forego family outings. I knew that I wanted more and I wanted him more involved but I sucked it up and concentrated on the things I could control. I chose to find things that would make me happy- things like my children, my friends, my volunteering. I didn’t sit back and say, “Oh my! I’m unhappy. There’s nothing I can do besides find a different husband.”

Second, I don’t think my kids are happier now than they were two years ago. I know my kids don’t want to see me miserable or crying; I don’t want to portray them as little sociopaths. But I don’t think they ever thought anything was terribly wrong. Like I said, there was no fighting, no hostility, no violence. Hell, I don’t think they ever even saw us raise our voices towards one another, much less have a fight. The only issues they saw were ones their dad brought to the table and I don’t think the fact that he has a new sex partner is going to change any of those issues. My daughter has said before, “I don’t know how you stayed with him as long as you did.” I also think a lot of that is because he was more willing to let everyone in the family see him fall apart this time around.

I think we fool ourselves into believing that our happiness makes our children happy. Obviously there can be extremes but kids are pretty self-centered.  They don’t like change anymore than we do. I’m pretty sure that if you asked my kids if they were happier now simply because Dear Old Dad is happy they would look at you like you had your brain growing on the outside of your head.  No, strike that.  It would be more like your brain was growing out of your ass. Their lives have been torn apart once again.  It wasn’t enough that we moved across the country and gave up everything for him the first time around. Oh hell no! Now we’re all supposed to be happy because he’s found true love with his soulmate. They probably don’t even think about the fact they are being forced to start all over again due to him. They’ve lost their home, have had to move another 600 miles away from their new friends, and are now residing in their grandmother’s house in smaller bedrooms while once again sharing a bathroom. Character building, my ass.  Fuck that! Their lives as they knew them are over at this point. They would probably tell you that they really don’t give a crap about their father’s happiness, especially when it came at their expense.

Another thing I’ve noticed is that those who extoll the virtues of divorce the loudest are generally the ones who are happily partnered up once again. The first commenter, as I pointed out earlier, remarried within 3 or 4 years of her divorce, I believe. She was also having an affair when she left her husband, although she did not end up with the affair partner and she says she didn’t leave for him. And, from other things she has written, she also had at least one other boyfriend before she met her current husband. Two other commenters who said divorce was better for the kids are also remarried and have at least one more child with the new husband. So far, no one who is not currently in a relationship has chimed in that divorce is just the best! I’m sure if that’s your reality (you meet the love of your life, you go on to have a fabulous new life, you have more children) then you probably do feel that divorce is the best choice.  Of course, we are back again to the fact that divorce ended up being the best choice for the adult and not the child.

What happens, though, if you spend the rest of your life alone? What happens if you spend the rest of your life struggling financially? God bless the second commenter who pointed out that she has seen far too many people who have traded in being married and miserable for being divorced and miserable. Honestly, I think that’s going to be me.

Granted, I wasn’t the one who wanted out. I wasn’t the one saying, “Oh, I’m so unhappy!” I simply saw the writing on the wall and knew there would be no going back. I had already warned him that if he did it again we were done. Don’t get me wrong; I definitely know that I will be better off without him. I don’t know, though, if my kids will. With him we all lived a fairly privileged life. My kids didn’t want for anything. Now? I don’t see myself as having some wonderful career that provides enough for me to support my children comfortably. Oh, I’ll be able to pay the bills and they’ll eat, but I don’t see any extras for them in the future. Get a job, kids, if you want to have nice things because Daddy left Mommy when she was pushing 50 and had no hopes of making serious bank.

I doubt I will ever have a house of my own. He has the VA loan to fall back on so he doesn’t really care if we lose everything on this house. I, on the other hand, will have to come up with a down payment. I’ve already bought houses with him so I won’t qualify for a first time buyer break. Plus, why the hell would I want a 30 year loan when it wouldn’t be paid off until I was around 80? No, Mr. Cheater will go on to buy his dream home with the whore, while I live with my mom forever. That sounds like divorce is really changing my life for the better, doesn’t it?

I don’t see myself finding the love of my life. I think that has passed me by. Honestly, I have no desire to date. I have no desire to let myself be vulnerable.  I will never let myself rely on another man again. Ever. I will not remarry. I will not move in with someone. Even if I did end up one day eating my words how does that benefit my children? By the time that could even happen for me they will be grown and out of the house. It will be too late for them. They will never experience an involved father. My daughter will never have a dad that wants to attend her gymnastics meets and cheer her on. My son will never have a dad that teaches him to shave or plays video games with him or tosses a ball around with him. That has all fallen, and will continue to fall, on me.

Don’t get me wrong. While I am not a fan of divorce and never wanted any of this, I also don’t think that getting divorced is some horrible evil. I’ll be tackling that approach later on this week. What I have a problem with is people, probably like CF, who use their own happiness as an excuse to wreck havoc on the rest of the family. The thinking seems to be, “I’m not happy.  I deserve to be happy. If I’m happy everyone else will be happy.”

I also don’t advocate staying in miserable marriages.  I think you should do everything you can to make your marriage happy. If that means counseling or date nights or whatever the two people come up with then I’m all for it. I don’t believe that you only have two options: Stay or be miserable.  I think there is a third, often overlooked option, which is to work on and improve your marriage. Too often the, “I Deserve Happiness” crowd decides to simply ditch the marriage and start over, usually with someone they have waiting in the wings.

So now the question remains: Is it better to leave? Is it healthier? That’s the trick question. It’s supposed to be a question of whether or not staying is better for your kids. I suppose that depends on what your future holds. Are you feeling lucky?

A Philosophy Lesson

Back in the good ol’ days when I was trying to recover from CF’s emotional affair with Harley I often stalked her FB page. Of course, I prefer to call it “research”. It’s a strange thing but back then I was so much more focused on Harley and what a whore she is. This time I haven’t really focused on her.  Oh sure, I think she’s a sociopathic, home wrecking, immoral, gold digging tramp with a record, but I don’t worry about her. Don’t get me wrong. If a truck came along and hit her, splattering her body into a few dozen pieces I wouldn’t cry.  I’d probably even laugh at her misfortunate.  Then again, I’m a bitch and I’m mean and unforgiving like that.

I think, for me at least, it comes down to cognitive dissonance. How could I rage against my husband with whom I was trying to reconcile? I used her as a scapegoat instead.  I could let out all my rage on her and he was safe. Now that I’ve kicked his ass to the curb I don’t need to take it easy on him, and therefore, I don’t need to fixate on her to get my rage satisfied.

Anyway, I’m sure you’re all thankful for the psychology lesson but this isn’t what this post is about.  No, instead I thought I would share with you some of Harley’s wisdom and my snarky comments from the first go round; for anyone concerned I haven’t checked up on that bitch since November and have no plans to do so. She is so smart and so philosophical. If she weren’t fucking my husband and tearing my life apart I think she would probably be my very best friend! Are you ready for some words of wisdom from a home wrecking whore?  Great!  Let’s get started.

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Then: Bless her heart. Yes, I’m sure her affair with my husband was exactly what she needed to do for the greater good. I’m sure their affair brought them to exactly the right place at exactly the right time.

Now: I’m going to have to disagree with this idea that the journey I am on, right now, is exactly what it needed to be. It sucks great big donkey balls and it is not what I needed. At.All!  Furthermore, I have lost time.  I lost 20 years of my life to that jackass I married. I squandered the best years of employment I had to raise our children and in return for that I have been discarded and am starting all over. If this is what life has in store for me, if this is my now, then I don’t want it.

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Then:  Is she having a hard time? Still trying to come to terms with the fact she’s a whore, and that her soul mate tossed her aside when he realized he was thisclose to losing his wife and family? Must suck to make plans for your future with another woman’s husband and watch those plans fall apart. Just breathe, honey; it’ll be ok.

Now: Ah, can you feel the whore angst in the air?  Just breathe.  Have faith that the good Lord will send someone else’s husband your way.  Have faith that you will eventually help to wreck the lives of two innocent kids. But you know what, Harley and CF?  I’m not going to obsess or imagine.  I’m going to breathe and have faith that you both will get everything that you deserve.

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Then: You know, for a whore she’s really philosophical.

Now: Pssst!  Hey, Harley, I don’t think the Dalai Lama encourages people to fuck around on their spouses with someone else’s spouse. Call me crazy but… I think basically what he’s telling you here is that while yesterday you may have made the bad choice to fuck my husband and fuck around on your own and tomorrow you’re going to make the same stupid choice, today you have a chance to be a decent human being.  You have a chance to not be a lying, manipulative, cheating, gold digging skank. He is not encouraging you to love, believe, do and mostly live on the backs of others.

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Then & Now: Let me help you out. You’re the evil one. You’re the whore, remember? Hope that helps!

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Then:  But it is too late to erase the fact that you’re a whore who sent naked pictures and sex fueled texts to another woman’s husband. It’s too late to erase the fact that you were telling someone else’s husband you loved him and wanted to marry him and were willing to leave your husband for him. It’s too late to erase the fact that you were planning a future with another woman’s husband and planning on tattooing a permanent symbol of your undying love for one another on your body. No matter what you do, no matter how philosophical you might become, you can never erase that.

Now: It is way too late to erase that the fact that you are a home wrecking whore who doesn’t have an empathetic bone in her body.

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This was my advice to her: Oh, I approach life so bravely. It’s such a trial. Just be, bitch. That doesn’t take any bravery at all. You are not special.

Now: There is nothing brave about you. Depraved, perhaps, but not brave. Brave women don’t block their lover’s teenage daughter when she calls them out on their shit.  A brave woman would have apologized. A brave woman doesn’t stand by and take everything for her own children while her lover abandons his own. A brave woman would insist he do right by his family and have nothing to do with such a sorry excuse for a father.  A brave woman understands that if he’s willing to cheat on and lie to his wife and abandon his kids, then he’s going to eventually lie to and cheat on her and abandon her kids as well. Then again, a brave woman would never get involved with a married man, nor would she cheat on her own husband.  You are not brave. You’re an entitled whore.

This one wasn’t posted by her but I’m sure it was an oversight.  This is exactly the kind of drivel she thrived on!

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The same can be said of karma, bitch. It might take a day, it might take a year… but it will find you.

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Hey, Harley, if you’re really that concerned about being a strong woman and raising a strong woman you might start with not being a deceitful, manipulative whore. That would be a good life lesson.  Strong women don’t fuck other women’s husbands; morally bankrupt whores do.

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And I suppose that makes their affair some sort of life lesson that wasn’t wrong at all. It was something they didn’t regret. Thank God they took the plunge instead of living with the regret of, “What if?” BAER

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Then: I’m wondering, was this a reminder to herself that their affair wasn’t love because it was making her less, or was this a reminder that the affair was true love because it made her “more of who she is”?

Now: She must have decided it was true love. Well, it certainly made Cousinfucker more of a lying, cheating pathetic excuse of a man and made Harley more of a lying, conniving, cheating whore.

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More wisdom from the whore. I can’t even comment on this one. No, wait, I think I can.  Harley to her daughter: Sweetie, don’t worry if your married lover won’t leave his wife the first time.  You just keep on calling and letting him know you’re willing to suck his dick and eventually he’ll leave her and you can finally have your cheating Prince Charming. Naturally, I leave off the cheating part.

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You are a truly demented woman and I cannot believe that at your age you still believe in fairy tales and that somehow fucking around with a married man will lead to happiness.

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Then: Not my husband, though.  He will never come to you.  Update:  I found the original posting.  I wrote:  I love this one.  It was posted about two weeks before I found out.  I’m sure she thought if she was patient my husband would eventually be hers.  Perfect timing and all that…

Now: I think she may need to worry more about getting everything she deserves.  Because that shit comes to you at the perfect time, too.

Always remember that your present situation is not your final destination. THe best is yet to come

Then: Well, it won’t be with my husband!

Now: Enjoy supporting him while he has his yearly breakdown!

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Off their knees?

More shit from the whore.

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Drivel. It wasn’t destiny. It was him being a delusional asshole, looking for attention and titillation, and you being a manipulative, deceitful whore.  Update:  This one originally said, “Isn’t she just precious?”

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Then: You can be patient until the day you die. He will never come back to you. And it will never be the right time.

Now:  Apparently that patience and a little help from Tammy Faye paid off! She managed to win herself a lying cheater! Meanwhile, he’s got a woman who cheats on her husband, sends “inappropriate” pictures to a neighbor and nails her husband whenever he gives in to her begging.

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Here’s another thought. If you don’t fuck around with another woman’s husband you don’t need hope or strength.

There you have it! Wisdom and philosophy lessons from a whore.  This is all drivel she posted on her FB during her first affair with CF and for months afterwards. I’ve seen puddles that are deeper than Harley.

A Conversation With Rock Star

“Mom, do YOU think he’s crazy?”

I pause, giving great thought to this question my daughter has just asked.  She has already freely said she believes her dad is legitimately crazy.  She’s not a psychiatrist though so I’m not sure how much stock to put into her diagnosis.  After weighing my words carefully I give her my answer.

“No, I don’t think he’s crazy.  I think he’s living in a fantasy world.  I don’t know for certain where he’s working but I do know his big dream was to work side by side with his best friend.  He once told me he should have taken the job at Best Friend’s plant when Best Friend tried to get him to come work with him and that was one of his biggest regrets.  If I had to bet I would place money on the fact that Best Friend managed to get him a job at his company and they are now working together.  So he thinks he has his dream job and he thinks he has his dream woman.”

She turns up her nose at that comment.  I can’t say that I blame her.  But he does. I don’t tell her this part but he thinks that Harley and her performance are the real thing.  She loves him for who he is and she would never be with him for the money.  Oh no!  That was the evil, awful Sam who stuck around for the money.  Harley is going to be the perfect mate.  She’ll text him every time she takes a shit and let him know all about it.  She’ll tell him how handsome he is and coo over every little thing he does.  Best of all, every weekend it’s nonstop sex!

Here’s the thing.  I’m sure that for a period of time, maybe even a decent period of time, this will play out just fine.  He will live far enough away from her that he can’t live with her, thereby giving him four days to decompress and do whatever he wants.  Then for 3 days (2 1/2 if we want to be technical) he puts on his Dad of the Year/Companion of the Year mask and is all smiles and grand gestures.  When things start to bother him it’s time to return back to his home where he can chill in front of the television, drink some wine, and not have to deal with anyone.  He doesn’t have to help her get kids to activities.  He doesn’t have to help with homework.  He doesn’t have any of the daily grind you have when you actually live with someone day after day.  But eventually the newness will wear off.  It’s also quite possible that he will find out sooner, rather than later, that the love of his life is cheating on him.  Ouch! Again, not things I say out loud to her.

I do go on to tell her that I think eventually his perfect fantasy life is going to implode.  His best friend has switched companies quite a few times and I don’t see them staying at the same company, together, for another fifteen to twenty years.  I also don’t see Cousinfucker taking it too well when and if Best Friend becomes his boss.  I also don’t see Best Friend taking it too well if the situation was reversed.  I think they have this vision of what life is going to be like, them working together, and I don’t think reality is going to play out anywhere close to this dream of theirs.  They are two alpha males and I see them either clashing with one another, or them trying to take down their boss, which probably won’t go over well with him.  Even if my theory that he’s working with Best Friend is incorrect and he’s actually working somewhere completely different the same rules apply.  He will love it at first and then when he doesn’t get to dictate every single thing he’s going to begin pouting and decide he hates it.  Only now he’s stuck.

What I say to her in summation is that once the newness of his relationship wears off and he realizes what kind of a person Harley is, and once he realizes that working with Best Friend isn’t the dream he believes it will be, I think he is going to look back at everything he has given up- his wife of over 20 years, his two kids, a job that he’s held for more than 15 years, and he’s going to realize how severely he has screwed himself.

At this point in my “journey” I’m not sure if I’d rather see that day arrive and smirk knowingly, gleeful at his misery, or if I would prefer to truly not give a damn and just be able to shake my head and say, “Sucks to be you.”  Only time will tell, I suppose.