Keep Sticking Your Head In the Sand

 

July 2015

Another day at the beach.  I can’t tell if I’m getting tan or burnt.  Bubba Gump’s for lunch.  It was good.  Then we dropped Mom’s tv off at Best Buy, took the girls to the shopping center, and then went to the Donut Hole for donuts for tomorrow.

I’ve been having a horrible time getting ahold of Zack.  He just now finally texted me back.  Says he’s been busy. And now he’s off to dinner with some people from work- customers.  I told him I loved him and only 3 more days til I got to see him but he said nothing.  I sent him some pictures and he told me I was “so fucking hot”.  I don’t know what’s going on with him.  I hope everything is ok.

Oh, another highlight: Jezebel is in Florida.  Spending a few days on the beach by herself supposedly and then she’s off to see her in-laws.  Funny, isn’t it, that she is able to visit her in-laws on a rather consistent basis while she never has time to visit her much missed, much loved brother.  Oh, and I know it’s all my fault.  She can’t visit because I’m so mean and I don’t want her around. Never mind she’s only been to whatever city we’ve ever lived in 7 times in 21 years.  Never mind the last time she visited us was in 2002 when Picasso was a baby.  Never mind that we lived in YYY state for an additional FOUR YEARS after she last visited, so it’s not like she can say it was so far away.  Never mind she never once in almost 8 years came to see us in our former state. No, it’s all because I’m so mean.  Nothing at all to do with her own choices.  Of course not!

Well, I’m going to try to focus on the last few days of this vacation.  I need to call our pool contractor tomorrow to find out when he thinks the pool will be done so Zack can get the money wired to our account. Spend some time with my nieces and nephew and my kids.  Just hang back and relax and have a good time.

 

More of Sam’s Epic Meltdown On the Hot Mess Express

This was a fun time in my life, folks. Cousinfucker was melting down, thanks to Blockhead. Looking back on it I was melting down as well. 

It’s not easy to start all over. It’s especially not easy to start all over when you’ve moved 2000 miles across the country and know you’re a mere six hours from the whore. Add in the fact that I knew we had moved to Whoreville because he set the wheels in motion during his first affair with her, and that I felt like everyone was ganging up on me (can it be called a feeling if it’s actually happening?) and you’ve got one hell of a storm. A storm that obviously CF had no control over and did not contribute to any way.

December 2014

Ugh! I’m in a pissy mood. Thinking more about our anniversary, our fucked up, glorious milestone, 20 year anniversary. It pisses me off. I keep asking myself, “What is it exactly that we’re celebrating?” I figure anyone can make it 20 years if you’re allowed to date other people. Nothing special about that. And I don’t think there’s anything remarkable about celebrating 20 years together when only a year and an half prior to that anniversary you were telling everyone who would listen that you wanted to be free of your wife and marry another woman. Telling everyone you’re madly in love, blissfully happy, and have finally found your soul mate… And it’s not your wife! Oh yes, let’s celebrate! Celebrate the fact that after tossing me aside for some whore you finally pulled your head out of your ass and decided to pick me back up. I guess I’ll keep her. Wow- if that doesn’t give me the crotch tingles I don’t know what will.

I think I’m going to tell him I don’t want to celebrate our anniversary anymore. It always leaves a sour taste in my mouth. I feel okay leading up to it and then I spend weeks raging about it. If my fingers weren’t so damn fat I’d take my rings off, too. He gave me those as a promise. He broke his promise. Why would I want to wear the ring anymore? What was the vow? I give you this ring as a sign of my love and faithfulness. Faithfulness. Not as a sign that I want to fuck you right now but I reserve the right to fuck my whore of a cousin one of these days. I’ll get a plain band to wear instead. I think plain gold says more, “I give you this ring as a sign of my temporary fidelity. If someone I think is better comes along I reserve the right to want to marry her and humiliate you.” That’s what he’s going for, right? Something sweet but not too permanent or committed.

I would love to know how far along they got in the planning stages. Did she pick out a ring or did they just talk about what kind she wanted? Did they set a date? Did she ask his sister to be her matron of honor since she was such a supporter of their illicit relationship? Did she have the church and reception hall booked, or just picked out? Ah yes, the questions every wife is asking about her husband’s whore for their 20th anniversary.

Well, this day is ruined.

A Bunch of Posts With No Pictures

Sorry, I’m still not ready to post pictures of my life quite yet. There are quite a few references to pictures here that don’t exist. Actually, they exist; I’m just not showing them.

July 2014

This is the new corridor that opened a little over a year ago. I have spent many hours driving up and down it when I have been upset.

Present Day Sam Says: Obviously there was a picture here of the new corridor.

July 2014

Ok, this is just a weird, makes you wonder, kinda thing. I got a friend request from someone I don’t know. I’m not quite sure how I know she knows my SIL. It’s apparent now, of course, because once you have a name and then see it around you say, “Oh, that’s where she’s from!” But here’s the weird thing. I said I wasn’t sure how I knew in the beginning they were friends. That would be because I’m not friends with my SIL so she wouldn’t have shown up as a mutual friend. And that takes a lot of possibilities as to why she sent a request to me off the table. A person who regularly makes a friend request based off of a friend’s friends list? Not possible. I’m not on the list and haven’t been for almost a year. Accidentally hit my name when she was intending to hit someone else’s? Again, not possible because my name’s not on the list. Hell, maybe she’s friends with the whore, too. Although this page is open to the public (mostly) and so much juicier than my regular page. She wouldn’t need to stalk me on that to give anyone information. This one gives plenty.

So I’m left wondering how on earth she ever thought to make a friend request. I’m just not visible. At least not through my SIL.

August 2014

Not the best picture, but this is where he would go on weekends so he could text his whore. I thought he was just drinking coffee. Thank God I never asked if he wanted to me join him. I’m sure the answer would have been no (lots of important texting and exchanging of the “I love you’s” and planning for their future and my presence would have cramped their style) and I would have been mortified once I found out the truth.

Present Day Sam Says: Again, there was a picture here but I’m not going to show it.

August 2014

Always new fun things. We think there is something wrong with the A/C. He was in major panic attack mode Tuesday evening and Wednesday morning. Good times. Oh, Harley, look what you missed out on. I’m telling you she never would have been able to handle it. She thought she was getting good times. She was the answer to his prayers and he to hers. Oh, honey…

Don’t get me wrong. I love him. I’ve been doing this for 20 years. But I was under no illusions that I had found my soul mate, my one true love, my very best friend and together we would ride off into the sunset and never have a moments unhappiness. She was, and she would have been bitterly disappointed.

Present Day Sam Says: Yeah, the clues were here all along. Already falling apart and we had been in our new house only a few weeks at this point. Things were only going to get worse.

I should have let her have him before we ever moved.

August 2014

The new car my husband bought me. I’m loving it!

Present Day Sam Says: Guess who gets to make the car payment now? And with no  spousal support either!

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.

Is My New Lawyer Psychic?

I saw another lawyer last week.  I liked her and I decided to switch.  I have many reasons for making the switch but key among them would be communication and the fact that I think my previous attorney botched my case.  Not an all out, Oh my God, I’m ruined, kinda botched.  But he definitely did not do me any favors or get me the best deal possible.

First interesting moment of the conversation with her was when she told me that everything in the court order is modifiable.  And there is a lot I’d like to see modified.  The funny part though is due to Cousinfucker quitting his job and leaving the state I now have a material change in circumstances.  Of course, I can be granted anything by the court but it doesn’t mean shit if he’s going to defy the court order or believes he’s untouchable because he’s out of state.  He probably thought he was going to screw me by getting everything excluded from his annual salary except his base pay and then turning around and getting a new job with a potentially higher base pay, even if the bonuses aren’t as good.  He thought he would screw me by promising half of his bonus check and to pay off the pool with that money and then leaving his job and doing neither of those two things.  Turns out the joke’s on him because with him taking this new job I can now go back and ask to have support re-evaluated.  And this time, when he has to throw in extra to cover marital debt my attorney is going to have that excluded from spousal support.  It will show up as a contribution to the marital debt, which it is, instead of as spousal support to me.  And as far as the bonus check is concerned I still have hope that he actually received it before leaving his company, but if he didn’t I would love to drag his ass before a judge and have him explain why he agreed to something only to turn around and voluntarily resign from his job no more than six weeks later.

The second moment was when the lawyer told me she was concerned for his mental well being.  She said there were a lot of red flags coming up for her and she was very concerned that he was going to have a complete mental breakdown, especially when Harley dumps him.  I explained that two years ago when he was confiding in Jezebel about his affair he told her that Harley made him happy and I remarked that according to Harley he is Daddy of the Year and she’s never been happier.  This is where it begins to get really interesting.

She looked at me and said, “Are you really going to take her word for it?  She’s a married woman with four kids having an affair with her cousin.  He’s a paycheck to her, a sugar daddy.”

Wow!  Here is a woman who has never met me, Cousinfucker or Harley and yet she has said the exact same thing that I have said, that family members have said.  I’ll admit that sometimes I wonder if I’m wrong and that she’s not the real love of his life.  I wonder if I say she’s just a gold digging whore to make myself feel better.  But here is a woman who has seen many, many divorces over the years.  She’s been doing this a long time.  And she has made the same observation.  In many ways it’s validation.  I continue to wrestle with the idea that this is not my fault.  Rationally I know it is not.  But in my insane moments (yes, I do have those!) I keep coming back to the old, “What if I didn’t do this?  What if I did that?  Maybe I should have done this.”  This lady put it all in perspective.  I am correct!  He’s a paycheck to Harley.  She’s a desperate, gold digging mother of four who has found a sugar daddy.  I’m hoping to help him run out of sugar quite soon.

The other thing she said that really resonated was I am the one that kept him grounded.  She had already told me how there were a lot of red flags for her when I told her my story.  She then mentioned that he has this nice little fantasy life going on and once things crumble she’s not sure he’s going to be able to keep it together.  She is very worried that he will end up having a complete breakdown and lose his job.  As she put it (and I’m going to paraphrase here):  When things come crashing down you’re not going to be there to help put them back together this time.  And I have a feeling you were that person- you kept it all going, even if he refuses to acknowledge it.  Again, I have to pump my fist and shout, “Yes!”

I was indeed that person.  I don’t think he has any idea how much bullshit I put up with in order to keep things going.  I took care of the house, the pets, the kids, him.  I cooked.  I cleaned.  I did his laundry.  The man never had to put away his own clothes for crying out loud!  I washed them, dried them, folded them, and put them away!  He never had to wash a dish.  He was the pampered king.  When he would freak out over something small and insignificant I was the one being the soothing voice of reason.  I was the one who would take charge, make the phone calls, get the job done, and interact with the people.  When he got sick I was the one taking care of him, calling the doctor’s office, taking him to the doctor’s or the ER, sitting with him, running interference for him.  In short, I was awesome.  He no longer has me around to do all of those things.  I can’t be certain but I have a definite feeling that Harley is not going to do those things either.  She’s in it for the money, the good times, the attention.  She is not going to be eager to deal with the real him and she’s certainly not going to be standing by him if he ever loses his job and spirals down into a heap of self pity.

So now in addition to being left after twenty plus years, abandoned in a new town that he insisted we move to, him deserting his two children, and him quitting his job and moving out of state I also get to wait for the inevitable breakdown.  I’ve gotta be honest here.  I’m kinda looking forward to it on the one hand.  On the other hand, he’s not going to be of any use to me in a psych ward, or as an alcoholic who can’t keep a job.  It’s a real quandary, I tell you.  I’d love to see him suffer (hey, I’m only human!) but I’m beginning to think that if he suffers the kids and I will suffer as well.  What to do…. What to do….

Just When You Think He Can’t Sink Lower…

Today has sucked.  I got through Valentine’s Day no problem.  That day does not bother me at all.  I woke up today and all Hell has broken loose.  So much for cleaning up my potty mouth because I am pissed beyond belief.

I woke up with a message from my pool contractor, asking me if there was any news or if they should get a lawyer.  I replied that my lawyer was working on it and that I thought Cousinfucker would pay; he was just taking his sweet time.

For some reason I decided to look at my bank account and see if the support payment had been made.  Since September Cousinfucker has had payments directly deposited into my account.  It wasn’t there.  Shit!  Has he decided to fuck with me since he had to move out?  Or is it something far more nefarious?  That little nagging voice in the back of my head wouldn’t go away.

I call my lawyer and tell him my support payment has not been deposited.  I go on to tell him that I have no idea if he’s quit his job, moved out of state, just wants to fuck with me…. I have no clue.  I do tell him that as long as we’ve been married his company has always deposited his paycheck early if payday occurs on a Sunday or a holiday.  He tells me to give it until 2 pm tomorrow in case there is simply a small snafu with the holiday schedule.

While I had been chatting with my mom I texted Cousinfucker’s boss and asked him if Cousinfucker still worked there.  A few hours later I get a reply.  Sam, Cousinfucker resigned several weeks ago.  I wish you both the best.

First of all, WTF?  And second of all, WTF?  I think the best for me has just flown by.  My husband is fucking his cousin and has abandoned me and my kids.  It’s a little late for well wishes!  And seriously?  Did the asshole really quit his job?  Oh yes he did!

I quickly sent another text asking him if he knew whether or not Cousinfucker had received his bonus check before resigning and if he knew where he went.  Remember, Cousinfucker is not responding to me or to his kids.  Turns out part of the reason behind that is because his phone was company property so he no longer has it.

In the meantime I find out that he has left the fucking state.  Yes, that’s right.  Cousinfucker moved me and my kids here, ripped our lives apart, and then turns around and a year and a half later LEAVES THE FUCKING STATE!  Dammit!  I was just beginning to feel settled somewhat.  I had a plan.  Some of my fears were being alleviated.  I knew where to get insurance.  I figured out how I was going to pay for my daughter’s graduation party. I had a plan for how I was going to pay my taxes.  Now?  Poof!  All of that is up in smoke.  Son Of A Bitch!

His boss eventually texted me back and let me know that Cousinfucker was going back home (no, he’s not) and that all other questions should be directed to him.  I texted back:  Thanks for all of your help.  The kids and I sure do appreciate it.

As it stands I don’t have a way to contact him unless I use my kids as a conduit.  I guess I could correspond with his family but I have no stomach for that.  I could possibly also unblock him on Facebook and send him a message that way.  He has left without a word to either of his kids.  His support payment is not in the bank. I don’t know if he plans on paying it or not.  I don’t know if he got his bonus check or not.  I think he probably did because his last direct deposit was January 31st.  I have no idea when, or if, Cousinfucker is planning on paying off the pool.  I have no idea, when, or if, he’s planning on paying me my portion of the bonus check.  I don’t know if he still has insurance on me and the kids.  I don’t know if I’m going to be able to get the bonus included in his annual salary now that he has quit.  I don’t know if he’s making a ton more money at this new job.  I don’t know what’s going to happen with all the unvested stock he had.  I mean, I know he’s not entitled to it but I don’t know if he’ll have to reimburse me for a portion of what I would have received, or if they will be able to use that in income calculations.  He walked away from a job of 15 years.  Oh, God!  I don’t know if my original plan is going to go through.  I had wanted to stay here until my daughter had graduated.  I hate the thought of moving her her junior year.  I really do. Hell, for all I know this new company will offer him a buyout on the house and I’ll either have to accept it and get out now, or he’ll try to make me take on the house and any losses associated with it.  I don’t know if I’m ever going to be able to swim in this damn pool that we’ve paid so much fucking money for. I have no idea what he’s planning on doing as far as taxes go.  Is he going to file jointly, or married separately?  Who the fuck knows?  And how will I get any portion of the refund, or will that be yet another thing he tries to keep from me?  I don’t know anything right now.  This sucks so hard!  I hate him.  It’s really hard to get to “Meh” when he keeps fucking with me and the kids.

The good news is I received a lovely gift basket from a fellow cheated on mom/friend.  It included wine!  And I’ve gained about 10 pounds of the 25 pounds I lost originally on the divorce diet.  Thanks to asshole and his machinations I have felt sick to my stomach all day and have had nothing more than a grilled cheese!  Maybe I’ll drop 5 pounds.  Motherfucker!

Why I Don’t Talk to Him

I really wish I had a better title for this, but I don’t. I have received a lot of crap from people, mainly family, about me not going out of my way to confront Cousinfucker.  My brother once declared, “This is going to the quietest divorce in history.”  Yes, it may be.  But is that a bad thing?

I’m going to try to explain why I haven’t yelled and screamed and otherwise confronted him.

  1. I’m not a big confrontational person.  Oh, believe me, I can get crazy stupid when I’ve been pushed but that doesn’t happen too often.  I’m usually very good at being able to ignore it and walk away.  I couldn’t confront him when I first found out because I was getting my ducks lined up so I couldn’t let on I knew.  And after I did confront him I was asked if I was still going to make spaghetti.  I’ll admit; that one left me (and the lawyer) speechless.
  2. When I have had more than I can take then I am simply done with you or with the situation.  Some people have this need to confront the person, to let them know what they’ve done wrong or how they’ve hurt them; they want to make them feel bad, or perhaps have them apologize.  I don’t.  My only concern is in getting out of a toxic situation or away from a toxic person.  I don’t care if you understand.  I don’t care if you agree.  I don’t care if you think you’re still right and I’m wrong.  I don’t care if you think I’m being ridiculous.  I don’t care if I’ve changed your mind or made you feel guilty or put you in your place.  I’m. Done.  Once I reach that point it is far better if we simply part ways because I am now officially in “Crazy, Stupid” territory.
  3. They don’t care!  I have no doubt that Cousinfucker would not give a single fuck if I yelled at him until I was hoarse.  I am equally sure that Harley has absolutely no shame and does not care at all about the destruction she has helped cause.  Me yelling and screaming at CF will do nothing.  He’s not suddenly going to say, “Sam, you are so right!  I have been acting like a giant ass!  What can I do to make it up to you and the kids?”  Why waste my breath?  As I said, it will do nothing except….
  4. Feed his ego!  OK, that should probably be a full sentence but it’s not.  Here’s a full sentence for you.  Yelling and screaming at him just feeds his ego.  It tells him he still gets to me.  He is still important.  He still has some power over me.  From reading Chump Lady I have learned that one of the worst things you can do for this type of person is ignore him/her.  I refuse to give him the satisfaction of thinking he still gets to me.  I’m not above making a snarky comment, and I have no problem pushing him on things, like pointing out in a straight forward manner that if he’s got money to blow on Harley’s kids then he’s got money to spend on his own kids!  But aside from that I will not engage.  He is nothing to me and I don’t wish to be the one feeding his ego.  Let Harley do that; he’s her problem now.
  5. Right from Chump Lady’s handbook:  I refuse to be the hypotenuse to their triangle!  You’ve probably all heard the dangers of trying to stand in the way of young love and how it just makes them want to be together even more.  It’s the same with cheater love.  They need to feel like it’s them against the world (or at least me).  If I’m yelling and screaming, tossing his crap out onto the lawn, calling up his boss, and pulling a Carrie Underwood on his car then it’s very easy to triangulate this three person relationship.  They’re in it against me.  As an added bonus he can point to my behavior and say:  See?  I told you she was crazy (mean, uncaring, unloving, whatever unflattering adjective he can find).  Look at what all I have to put up with!  Isn’t she just awful?  This way they are left in their relationship with only each other.  They can’t ever say that things will get better once his crazy ex-wife stops harassing them because the crazy ex-wife has never been part of the picture.  If their relationship takes a crap (and seeing as how she is supposedly still sleeping with her husband I can definitely see where things might go wrong) they will have to examine their own actions because it won’t be anything I’ve said or done.  They are two fucked up individuals; he is a miserable human being who will never be happy and is an entitled shit eating chimp that is constantly changing the goal posts on what will make him happy.  She, on the other hand, is a deceitful, manipulative, gold digging white trash whore.  They are both lying liars who lie and cheating cheaters who cheat.  It’s only a matter of time before this house of cards comes crashing down.  As long as I’m out of the picture they’ve got to deal with one another and not focus on me.
  6. Finally, actions speak louder than words.  It’s good advice when wondering whether you should reconcile with your spouse who says he/she is sorry.  It’s also good advice when dealing with a spouse you’re divorcing.  I’m keeping my mouth shut and not giving away anything.  Instead of yelling and screaming at him, telling him what an utterly worthless piece of pig shit he is I simply filed for divorce, and am making him pay a lot of spousal and child support.  I’m not sure anything gets the message across quite like being served with divorce papers.

Let’s All Praise Jesus- Harley is Happy!

 

I don’t do a lot of pain shopping anymore.  I did the first time around.  I was obsessed.  I told myself I was keeping an eye on her so I would be prepared. And to a certain extent I think that was true.  I questioned why she would be praying for my husband when he was hospitalized.  I wondered why she suddenly had such a philanthropic bent towards soldiers with PTSD.  But it didn’t fully prepare me.  And honestly, a lot of it was because she was so stupid with the shit she would say.  It was easy to make fun of her.  Hell, it’s still easy to make fun of her.  But for some reason, this time around when I found out I was just done.  I don’t give a shit what she’s doing or what she’s posting or how her “wonderful, blessed” life is playing out.  I know she’s a lying, deceitful, manipulative, white trash whore.  According to her own husband they’re still sleeping together.  I say, “Ha ha, Cousinfucker.  What did you expect?”  I knew he wasn’t her first rodeo.  Hell, I knew he wasn’t going to be her last rodeo!  And if someone had asked me to place a bet I would bet he wasn’t going to be her *only* rodeo.  So there!

Anyway, back to pain shopping.  For those of you who don’t know what that is it refers to looking for/at things that are going to hurt you or bring you pain.  I originally thought it was actual shopping done out of anger and hurt.  I was so wrong.  It’s looking for shit that is going to bring you pain.  Interacting with the OW.  Sending emails or texts.  Confronting her.  Looking up the OW’s Facebook page, Twitter feed, Instagram, Pinterest… whatever you may have access to.  I guess you could even add on mutual friend’s accounts as well, if those pages/feeds are going to give you ammunition with which you will hurt yourself.  None of that for me anymore.  Or at least not much.  I’m human; I get curious.

I think it was around Thanksgiving.  I wanted to see if she had given me any more ammunition for my divorce hearing (or so I told myself).  The answer was no, she hadn’t, although she did have a new profile picture up and I got to see all of my former in-laws gushing all over the whore.  “You’re so pretty!”  “You’re beautiful!”  “You can suck a golf ball through a garden hose!”  OK, that last one wasn’t on there.  That was me being mean.  My STBX-MIL tells her that she just keeps looking better and better.  That’s funny because my daughter says she looks about 50 (no offense to those of you who are 50; my daughter is 15 and thinks anyone over the age of 20 is old) even though she’s actually younger than I am and she’s constantly saying how ugly she thinks her father’s mistress is.  Maybe it’s because my daughter sees her personality and that plays a large part.  Regardless, after my STBX-MIL gushes all over this waste of human skin she replies back that it’s because she’s happy.

Oh joy!  Harley is happy!  Well, we can all breathe a sigh of relief now, can’t we?  The whore is happy!  Apparently she is happy with a part time lover, a man who lives hours away from her and can’t spend the day to day with her.  She’s happy fucking a married man, knowing without a doubt that he is married and has kids.  She’s happy despite the fact that the supposed love of her life has no relationship with his kids and they hate him due to this happiness inducing relationship.  That doesn’t bother her.  She’s happy spending weekends only with this piece of shit and watching him drive back to his wife, his kids, his home.  Perhaps that is part of the allure:  They get to keep the fantasy alive because he’s NOT there day in and day out.  She doesn’t have to do his laundry, make his dinner, put up with his mood swings.  And he doesn’t have to help with the day to day chores of taking care of FOUR kids.  Hell, he couldn’t manage two and they were his.  It’s all sex and “I’m so happy to see you!”  Yeah, because you only have to deal with him on a very limited basis.  Plus, you’re fucking other men.  Yes, Harley is happy.  Happy, happy, happy with this whole fucked up arrangement.

Hey, do you wanna know who isn’t happy, Harley?  Not that you care, of course, you flaming turd shot straight out of Satan’s ass (again, thank you Chump Princess, commenter from Chump Lady).  Your lover’s kids aren’t happy.  Yeah, you heard me.  They’re not happy.  I know you don’t give a shit about them.  Asking CF how he thought you would all get along was about as far as your concern extended, and when you realized, you pus sucking whore, that my kids would have NOTHING to do with you, you wrote them off.  More for you.  More for your kids, the ones who take money that should be going to my kids, and then trash talk him behind his back.  You couldn’t care less about my kids and what you and Daddy Dearest took from them.  My daughter was on track to be a college gymnast and her father killed those dreams with his (and your) selfish desire to get us across the country.  My son had to abandon the only sport he really loved along with playing the cello, also something he really loved.  Again, so dear daddy could get in your pants more easily. Do you want to know who else isn’t happy?  Me!  I’m not happy.  I’m not happy that my selfish, entitled, PTSD-faking waste of oxygen couldn’t sack up two years ago and leave with your lying, slutty ass and instead chose to lie and deceive and systematically dismantle my life and those of my children.  Here are some more people who aren’t happy:  My mother, my brother (who incidentally loved CF like his own brother), my sister-in-law, my nieces, my nephews, my friends from Utah who are beyond pissed that he moved us all away only to abandon us, my high school besties, my mom’s friends, our neighbors, the kids’ teachers…. I could go on and on.

Oh, but YOU are happy.  Yes, that is the most important thing.  Never mind that YOUR happiness came at our expense.  Never mind that despite how happy you supposedly are you’re still screwing your husband (according to him, of course).  I’m sure your children are all happy, too.  Then again, my husband is throwing boatloads of money at you and at them, buying them anything and everything they want, while neglecting his own children.  Your kids don’t have to worry about moving or changing schools.  Your daughter isn’t going to have to worry about attending her senior year at a different high school.  I’m sure your daughter isn’t having anxiety attacks all the time and none of your sons are crying because they hate where they live, thanks to my husband and the two of you conspiring.  Oh, no!  Things are all coming up roses for you and your bunch!  It’s only me and my children who are paying the price for your happiness.  Yes, you see, Cousinfucker can buy an expensive purebred dog for your four kids while he couldn’t be bothered to give me enough money to pay for dog food and cat food for the pets we already have.  He can’t seem to come up with $80-$100 for a Homecoming dress for his own daughter and yet he can somehow spend over $300 on a dress for your daughter.  Interesting.

Yes, it’s very interesting how you and everyone in his fucked up family concentrate solely on his and possibly your happiness while ignoring everything else around them.  No one can seem to put two and two together and rationalize that, “Hey, maybe that’s the reason his kids are pissed, and Sam has nothing to do with it!”  You are such a disgusting, gold-digging piece of white trash that you don’t even care that your “happiness” is being achieved at the expense of your lover’s children.  Of course you don’t; you’re out to get everything you can.  Hey, I guess if he doesn’t care about them, why should you, huh?

In the spirit of the not so distant Christmas season I have this wish for you, Harley:  May you get EVERYTHING you so richly deserve.  And Cousinfucker, may you, too, get EVERYTHING you so richly deserve.  Much HAPPINESS to you both!

Life Is Too Short to be an Asshole!

Life is too short to be unhappy.  May I offer a counter to that?  Life is too short to be an asshole!

My STBX-SIL, Jezebel, had a quote on her Facebook once that read: “If you are trapped between your feelings and what other people think is right, always go for whatever makes you happy. Unless you want everybody to be happy except you.”
— anonymous

I said two years ago and I still say today, “What a load of bullshit!”

CF:  Gosh, I feel like Harley will make me happy but other people might think cheating on my wife is wrong.

STBX-SIL:  Oh, don’t you worry about that!  You need to do what makes YOU happy!  You deserve it.

No, he deserves a 2×4 upside his head for being such an asshole!  You don’t move your wife and kids across the country and THEN decide your happiness resides with some white trash whore!

Is this really what we want to teach our kids?

“Hey, Junior, I see you found a wallet stuffed full of $100 bills.  What do you say we turn this into the lost and found?”

“Hmmm…. nah.  That wouldn’t make me happy.  I’d rather spend it.  You see, I felt really happy finding all this money and thinking about all the video games and iTunes and other teenage crap I might want to buy.  The thought of returning it makes me decidedly UNhappy.  So, I’m going to keep it.  Because if I’m trapped between my feelings and what other people think is right I should always go for what makes me happy.”

“You know, son, that is true.  Who can argue with that logic?  Who cares if this person probably just cashed his paycheck and this is all the money he has for the next two weeks to pay rent, buy groceries, support his kids, etc.  All that matters is that YOU are happy!”

If that’s your reaction then pat yourself on the back for you have done a bang up job as a parent!  Not!

We could do this on many topics.  Your kid doesn’t like another kid and teasing him or her mercilessly makes your kid happy?  Do it!  If it makes you happy then it can’t be wrong (and if it is, who cares?  Your happiness is the only thing that matters!).  If doing homework, or going to school or brushing teeth makes your child/children unhappy then by golly, you just let them follow their bliss to rotten teeth and Fs in school.  Far better for them to be happy than well educated with a mouthful of their own teeth. You want to take a cruise or go on some luxury vacation instead of paying your mortgage and buying groceries?  Will that make you happy?  Then DO IT!  You take that mortgage payment and you go have the time of your life for a week or two.  You owe it to yourself.  Life is too short to forego vacations for pesky things like mortgages and utilities. Your sibling starts up an affair with someone who is married and has children?  Who are you to judge?  Support them because if they are happy who cares how the betrayed spouse and kids feel!  They’ll get their happiness soon enough.  Your daughter thinks dancing on a pole at a strip club will make her happy?  Buy stock in that club!  Support your baby girl’s dreams because, again, if it makes her happy, what could possibly be wrong with it?  Your son wants to become a male escort and take middle aged women for all their money?  Hey, who are you to say that’s wrong?  If he’s HAPPY then you must support him!  Do your kids want to do/make/sell drugs?  Take a car out for a joyride?  Knock off a liquor store for extra cash?  Torture kittens and puppies?  Kidnap and imprison women for dozens of years?  LET THEM!  They have a right to be happy!  Don’t be so damn judgmental!  You are harshing their buzz!  It takes a very enlightened person to follow their bliss instead of doing the right thing.

I will once again direct you to Ralph Waldo Emerson’s quote:

The purpose of life is not to be happy.  It is to be useful, to be honorable, to be compassionate, to have it make some difference that you have lived and lived well.

I’m going to toot my own horn here.  Up until we moved this last time I was very involved in various activities.  I was active in my church when we lived in Michigan.  I volunteered in the nursery for a while one Sunday a month and as my youngest aged I moved up with him.  Eventually I was volunteering in the children’s church every Sunday.  I joined the Meal Team and helped prepare the meals whenever there was a big study program.  I even became a small group leader.  I joined a MOPS group at another church where my daughter went to preschool.  I volunteered to be on the Hospitality team and helped provide breakfast twice a month.  Eventually I helped to charter a MOPS group at my own church which was a huge undertaking.  As far as I know that MOPS group still exists today, some ten years later; I’m not there but it is.  I volunteered at my daughter’s school.  I volunteered at my son’s preschool and served on the board.  And once we moved to Utah I got involved in PTA, serving on 3 different boards at once there towards the end.  I volunteered in the kids’ classrooms. I volunteered as team mom for hockey and helped with gymnastics meets.  I gave my time.  I got involved.  I helped.  I nurtured.  I volunteered.  I didn’t look to vacations, pretty jewelry, new cars, fancy gadgets and new love to give my life meaning.  I poured my heart and soul into my children, my family, my volunteering; I enjoyed serving others and making their lives easier.  There were many times I wondered if this was all there was, but I continued on.  I made the best of my circumstances despite my husband’s reluctance to join us.  I was, if not happy, then content.  I had a purpose.  I had a function.  To tie it into Emerson’s quote I was useful, compassionate, and made some difference that I lived.

I don’t think STBX or anyone in his family understands that.  It’s all about the elusive happiness.  If you’re not happy with one person then move onto the next for surely you will be happy then.  My STBX-SIL is incredibly happy with her life right now.  It’s all about trips and adventures and new love and what everyone in her life is buying for her.  It’s about her new husband showering her with gifts and attention.  It’s about reinventing herself once again.  But you rarely hear about her doing anything for him or those in her orbit.  It’s all about her.  Look how much everybody loves me and thinks I’m wonderful!  Look at everything they do for me!  Even the one thing that she does, which is singing, is more about her and the attention she receives, than serving anyone else.  That’s why, when her father-in-law whom she had known for all of approximately 2 years at the time, was in the hospital she was able to go be with him for two weeks.  He lives in a state she loves to visit.  She has snowed her in-laws and they shower her with trinkets and tickets and lots of fun stuff.  When her brother, whom she has known for over forty years, was hospitalized, she couldn’t manage to find time to come visit him.  If you could see me, you would see that this is my shocked face!  We don’t live in a state she loves to visit, and since she had been begging him to leave me the chances that I would be trying to win her over with trips, trinkets, and toys was nil.

CF, I’m sure, is doing the rounds of, “I hadn’t been happy in years.”  What did he ever do to try to make himself happy?  Locking yourself in your bedroom and watching television all night long is not going to bring about any huge change in your life.  You’re not full of purpose.  Meanwhile, I did everything I could to make him happy but it was never enough.  I knew years ago that I could never make him happy; it has to come from within and he just doesn’t have that ability.  He told me once that he’s afraid to let himself be too happy because nothing has ever gone right in his life and he’s always waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Oh, sure, he thinks he’s happy now.  He’s got his shiny new whore and her four kids who pay homage to him.  He’s the king!  He’s bringing shiny, new toys into their lives and making sure they want for nothing.  But at some point he’ll start looking around, waiting for that shoe to fall.  According to my source, while the kids tell him to his face how wonderful he is they talk crap about him behind his back.  And Harley?  Well, rumor has it she’s still sleeping with her husband.  The funniest part of all of this?  Those people have never seen him at his worse.  She’s cheating on the good version of him!  They haven’t had to deal with his moods, his “issues”, his reluctance to do anything as a family.  No, he’s on his best behavior.  He’s throwing money around and acting like Father (and Husband) of the Year.  As an added bonus, since he’s not with them every day it’s fairly easy, I would imagine, to keep that mask in place.

I came across an article in The Atlantic online, entitled, “There’s More to Life Than Being Happy”.  It’s from January 9, 2013 and it centers around Viktor Frankl, who was a concentration camp survivor and who wrote the book, Man’s Search for Meaning, and a new study which was coming out in the Journal of Positive Psychology, later that year (2013).  The study was regarding people who were asked if they thought their lives were meaningful and/or happy, and examining the factors that led to their happiness and/or meaningful lives.

It was a very interesting article and I couldn’t help but think of CF and his family when I read it.  Frankl’s viewpoint is this:  It is the very pursuit of happiness that thwarts happiness.

This makes perfect sense if you think about the quest for happiness as a drug.  We search for that elusive happiness, that trinket, that relationship, that experience, that is supposed to make us happy.  And it does.  For a while.  And then we crave more.  That’s why they say happiness is fleeting.  In another article I read almost a year ago that dealt with gratitude a researcher talked about how we all like newness.  Same deal as with happiness.  This new thing makes us happy.  But positive emotions wear off quickly so we need more newness.  By actually being GRATEFUL for what you have you keep those feelings of newness alive.  Gratitude was found to enhance positive emotions.  But too many people are focused on being happy instead of being grateful.  Or doing the right thing.  Or living a meaningful life.

Even more interesting was what the psychologists found regarding a happy life versus a meaningful one.  Leading a happy life is associated with being a “taker” while leading a meaningful life corresponds with being a “giver”.  Is anyone surprised?  The psychologists go on to say, “Happiness without meaning characterizes a relatively shallow, self-absorbed or even selfish life, in which things go well, needs and desire are easily satisfied, and difficult or taxing entanglements are avoided.”  Bingo!  Happiness is all about the good times.  Keep anything difficult or unpleasant out of the equation because then you might not be happy.  We need happiness at any cost.

Also not surprising is the fact that they found that happiness is all about feeling good.  Happy people tend to think that life is easy, they are in good physical health, they are able to buy the things they need and want.  They found that the lack of money decreases how happy and meaningful people rated their lives, and they also found that lack of money had a much greater impact on happiness.  Color me surprised!

Probably the most important thing they discovered is that the pursuit of happiness is associated with selfish behavior.  Ah yes, that taker vs. giver issue.

One of the authors of the study put it this way:  Happy people get a lot of joy from receiving benefits from others while people leading meaningful lives get a lot of joy from giving to others.  Ah, so that explains why it is that cheaters are so damn selfish while proclaiming their “happiness”.  They are receiving benefits from other people.  They are taking.  They wouldn’t recognize profound and meaningful if it slapped them upside their meaty little heads.

Basically, what this article concludes is that this pursuit of happiness is bullshit.  Happiness is fleeting.  It can change on a dime.  It’s a hamster wheel.  Run, Forrest, run!  A meaningful life endures.  Happiness is the dessert- delicious and full of empty calories.  A meaningful life is the main course- substantive and full of the protein and fat that will get you through to the next meal

You Kept Him Sane For Twenty Years

I have always loved the irony of his sister declaring that he deserved better than me.  Yes, I was wrong and crazy and she was so sorry he was so miserable.  She begged him to leave me.  Begged him!

Let’s see- he has been a fairly shitty father and partner.  He’s been more interested in watching television than in participating in our lives.  He sucks all of the oxygen out of the room with HIS needs and all others can go fuck themselves.  He’s got “anxiety issues” and “PTSD” and “social anxiety”.  Oh hey, let’s add excessive drinking to the list now.

I spent holidays alone.  I made cross country trips with the kids all by myself.  I took our kids to see his side of the family. I took care of 99% of anything having to do with the kids- school drop offs and pick ups, extracurriculars drop offs and pick ups, conferences, homework, signing papers and logs, writing checks for lunch money and pictures.  You name it, I did it. I fixed his plate for him every night.  I made breakfast every weekend, or at the very least I would run out to get something.  The few times I would go out with friends I made dinner for him or picked something up for him instead of making him fend for himself and the kids.  I did his laundry. I hung his damn clothes up and put the rest of them away.  I shopped for clothes for him.  I made his doctor’s appointments, psychiatrist appointments, therapy appointments, and went to them with him.  I picked up his prescriptions.  I took in his dry cleaning.  I spent countless hours in the hospital with him because, you know, every illness was a major disaster.  I moved all over this country for him, supporting him in his career.  I was his biggest cheerleader.  Did I forget something?  Oh yes!  He CHEATED ON ME WITH HIS COUSIN!

But somehow he deserves better.  I am the one doing him wrong.  Perhaps I didn’t put his food on his favorite plate.  Perhaps I didn’t use the laundry detergent he preferred.  Hell, I suppose my biggest fault was that I simply did not and would not pretend that he hadn’t done what he did!  How DARE I not forget his “little” emotional affair?  How dare I continue to be hurt by the fact that his entire family was stabbing me in the back?  How dare I?

This is the funny part.  After twenty years with this guy I had come to believe I owned part of this, that perhaps there was something I could have done differently.  Currently, there have been many times I wondered if there were things I could have done differently (like not moving my ass across the country for him this last time!).  But as a wise, dear old friend pointed out to me, “Listen, I think a lot of what he says is bullshit.  I think he was messed up long before you came along.  You just kept him sane for 20 years.  Hat’s off to you!  Most wouldn’t have stuck around.  You should be proud of yourself.  Not blaming yourself.”  Hell, my own daughter has said, “Kudos to you, Mom; I don’t know how you put up with him as long as you did. I’d have left him long ago!”

Yes, let’s see how long dear sister and enabling mommy and his gold digging whore manage to keep him sane now that I’m no longer in the picture.