Let It Go

I am almost 3 1/2 years out from my final D-Day. You would think I would have everything together, everything figured out, everything resolved and put behind me. You would be mostly right but there are days when some things linger.

I suppose part of it is the fact we are still trying to get support modified for Picasso. My lawyer is taking her sweet time, claiming to be swamped with work. This has been ongoing since July. My patience is quickly coming to a close.

My beef though is with him. This was his responsibility. He has a court order. I used to think that meant something. Instead, he just glances at my texts about modifying the support and not simply cutting it in half and he says, “No.” Calls me a cunt when he realizes I’m not going to roll over and play dead. More importantly I’m not listening to him and I’m no longer letting him have his way. Then he insults the mobster and implies I’m using child support to meet up with him. He haughtily tells me he won’t pay a dime more until he hears from my lawyer. Once he hears from my lawyer he wants to argue with the numbers she gives him and decides to try his hand at playing lawyer. He refuses to pay the legal fees which I have incurred because he is an asshole.

From my perspective he gets away with it. He gets away with all of it. He openly defies a court order. He calculates child support on his daughter down to the freaking minute she graduates. He divides child support in half and dares me to try to tell him that it should be different. When I do, he says, “I know better than you or the judge what happens next.” He drags me through the mud and makes me do all of the damn work and then he says, “No, I’m not paying your legal fees. That’s all on you.” So again, if I want him to pay I have to take him to court again. Which costs even more money.

What can I do? I control only myself. I suppose I can continue to fight him and hope that I win and that by winning I land a solid uppercut right on that smug face of his.

There is a lot of talk of letting go… walking away… being the bigger person… focusing on the big picture…

Yes, I suppose I could drop the rope. Say, “Fine, pay half of the original support amount.” I could eat the legal fees. God knows I have so much discretionary income that another $600-$900 to my attorney is no big deal! <<< That was sarcasm.

Then he wins. He gets away with being a fucking jackass. He gets away with violating a court order. He gets away with talking down to me. He gets away with making me jump through hoops. All so that I can tell myself that some money is just too expensive and it’s not worth it; I can try to convince myself that having him out of my life is worth all of the shit sandwiches I’ve had to eat because of him.

It’s not even about the money at this point. It’s about the fact that I told him very nicely that he should probably contact his lawyer and get this modified. I agreed that it would go down but told him it would not decrease by 50%. He knew that. He was just playing games. He doles out the money when he wants and he pays what he wants. I told him again a few days later after he sent his version of prorated support for Rock Star. It’s not going to decrease by 50%. Please talk to your lawyer and get this modified. Instead he lets me know there are no separate orders for child support and therefore I will now receive 50% of what I had been receiving. He even has the audacity to tell me to read the court orders.

If that’s not enough of a shit sandwich to swallow, once my lawyer finally gives him new numbers he wants to argue. Oh no! I don’t agree with that at all. If we’re going to modify this we need to make sure all the numbers are up to date. I want proof of insurance since my wife is a such a lying, cheater (oops, that’s me!) and I want to see if she got a raise since we were in court last time.

He actually has the balls to scold my lawyer and point out that there are newer forms, which he has used. Finally, he follows all of this up by letting her know he refuses to pay my legal expenses because he is not privy to my business affairs. He has no control over whether or not I choose to get a lawyer involved.

Yes, because my first course of action was to call my lawyer about this. Oh, wait! My first course of action was actually going to him and letting him know he should speak to his lawyer about getting child support modified for one child. He could have had this done and over with in probably 30 minutes- maybe an hour if he decided he was going to look the forms up and do it all on his own right from the beginning. Instead, even knowing that he was wrong and he did indeed owe more he still crossed his arms and stomped his feet and refused to do anything on his own. I had to do it. Furthermore, he thinks I should be the one to pay for it.

I might even be able to shake this all off by telling myself that he looks like a giant ass while I keep plodding along, doing whatever needs to get done. Don’t let him get to you. Pretend you’re a character in a movie. Get to work and just do what needs to be done. Don’t worry about the other stuff. That’s not what’s important.

That’s when the thoughts of, “It’s not fair!” begin screaming in my head.

Because it’s not just this latest thing. It’s the fact that I have had to do all of the dirty work ever since the day I found out he was fucking his whore of a cousin. Who told the kids we were getting a divorce? That would be me. Daddy of the Decade was off fucking his cousin at the time. Probably throwing hundred dollar bills at her kids, too. Who had to break it to the kids that we were going to have to move? That would be me again. He was busy half-ass participating in alcohol treatment and refusing to give me any information. Who had to go through and price all of the items in our house and list the furniture on Facebook? If you guessed me you would be correct! Who held our daughter while she cried because she found out she was going to have to start all over with a learner’s permit instead of getting her license like she had anticipated? Oh, oh! Pick me. Who worked two jobs to pay my bills and attempt to give my kids something for Christmas? Again, me. Who watched as our beautiful daughter became depressed and anxious after being moved her junior year? And who held and supported her as she cried on her Senior Night because she didn’t have much to list on her achievements and didn’t have anyone but me there to support her? By golly, that was me, too! Who had to hire an expert witness at the cost of over $8000 to prove someone was faking PTSD? That money, btw, could have gone towards my kids or a house. It’s me again! Look, it’s a rigged game. It’s always me. Every shitty thing that had to be done was done by me. Every bit of bad news that my kids heard was told by me. Cousinfucker was off doing his own thing with his newly created fake family. They were so much more important than his original family.

It extends back to the entire settlement that I accepted. After more than 2 years, and being told a judge would probably rule this way anyway, I did basically as my lawyer suggested. Now I wish I had fought some more.

There are times that I’m still pissed I had to account for the $27,000 I took. I was told repeatedly by multiple lawyers that as long as I spent that on the household and could prove it I wouldn’t have to split that with him. I faithfully kept receipts for more than 2 years. Still had to account for it in the settlement, which hurt me a lot. It definitely helped him because it mostly offset the stock he cashed in, the 401k he drained, and the money he gave to her. Plus, because his primary 401k was the only asset we had as a married couple everything was rolled into the 401k and how it was divided.

This meant that when I was paying all of the household bills and marital debt while he remained living in the home and paid nothing towards any of it, he was free to blow through tens of thousands of dollars. When I was working two jobs and getting up at 3:30 in the morning he decided to drain his smaller 401k, pocket the $10 grand and was sleeping in and watching TV. Because all of our bills were automatically withdrawn from our joint account I was still paying his insurance. I made his final car payment.

All of that was rolled up into the 401k and then divided. Instead of a big fat check he had to write to pay me my half of all of that, I have less than $100,000 in a 401k, waiting for me when I retire in another 15-20 years.

Our pool ended up being paid off with his bonus check and then we split the rest. His half was already gone by the time he lost his job. I’m assuming the whore blew through it, spending it on Vera Bradley and God only knows what else. I know they got to take a vacation to Florida over Spring Break. I got to use my share to live on when he lost his job and decided he wasn’t going to send another dime until he finally got a job worthy of him.

He got to spend his money on fun things. Vacations. Dresses. Puppies. Engagement rings. Romantic getaways. Bribing children that weren’t his. I used mine to survive while I looked for a job, and the rest of it is waiting for me when I retire someday.

Let it go, right? I can’t control it. It’s in the past. What’s done is done. Move on. Make a brand new life and make it fabulous. Yep, I’ve heard it all. I do my best to follow that advice.

Yet some days I curse, “Motherfucker! It is not fair! It’s not fair that he gets to run around without a care in the world while I have the weight of the world on my shoulders. It’s not fair that he got to spend all of that money on whatever he wanted and got to have fun, and I had to use mine to live on. Goddamn! Sonofabitch! Motherfucking motherfucker! Asshole!”

Add in that he pays support whenever he feels like it and doesn’t think I need to be given a heads up. You want to pay funeral expenses for your mom instead of paying your court obligated support? You go right ahead. Hey, no need to tell me what’s going on. I like the shortness of breath and the tightness in my chest when I think my world might be collapsing again. It’s invigorating. He asked to be allowed to pay every other week instead of in full on the 1st, which I agreed to; however, he pays whenever he chooses with no rhyme or reason. He’s made his first payment as early as the 8th (only happened once) and as late as the 16th. Usually it’s somewhere between the 12th and the 14th. The last two months he’s paid child support on the very last day of the month.

It all comes down to feeling helpless. He walks around doing whatever he wants, paying whenever he wants, thinking he makes all the rules. I can’t do a single thing to change this. Oh, I realize I can take him to court. I can garnish him. That’s where my power ends. And until my lawyer gets her ass in gear I can’t even do those things. Instead I wait and I repeat, “Let it go. Let it go. Let it go.”

Update: Sometimes you just have a bad day and let bad thoughts overwhelm you. I’m doing much better already. He’s an ass. Life is unfair. I’ll carry on. I’m sure I’ll be fabulous as well.

The Pitfalls of Pain Shopping

You’re in for a treat. I knew before I even began that this was going to be long; this here is Part 1 of 5. You know what that means though, right? Five straight days of posts from me!

Hi, I’m Sam. I am a survivor.  I am a fighter. I am fearless. I am kickass. I know my worth. I don’t believe a bit of the bullshit that comes out of cheaters’ mouths, excusing their affairs. I believe there is no excuse for cheating on your partner. I believe the most important question isn’t, “How can I save this marriage?” or “What did I do wrong?”, but “What’s important to me in a marriage?” and  “What is acceptable to me?” I don’t do hurt; I do pissed off. I firmly believe in no contact. I know that cheaters are masters at image management. I know they suck.

I am also not immune to curiosity. I “investigate” social media on occasion. I have recently been pain shopping. I am a dumbass.

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I could easily blame this on my mom. She is the one who informed me CF and Harley had gotten married. I could have comfortably lived my life not knowing that. Who could resist sneaking a peak at the happy couple? Certainly not me!

It started with their wedding picture and making snarky remarks about the “happy couple” to friends. Harley looks terrible. She really does. Her wedding picture is maybe one step up from her most recent mugshot.

When she was chasing after my husband and finally landed him she was thinner than me. I’ll admit I was jealous. People complimented her on it. Now she looks like a beached whale. Seriously. I am not someone who usually picks on someone for their weight because God knows I’m not some size 2. But she has to have a good 30-40 pounds on me.

You’d think that would be enough. Yep, there they are. You’ve seen them. Let’s move on from this train wreck. Yes, he actually married the whore; true love won. Move along!

You would be wrong.

Rock Star announced recently that her dad had contacted her, asked her where she was going to school and if she needed anything. I guess he can afford to act like the big shot because he’s got almost an extra thousand dollars in his pocket each month now. He ended up sending her $200 so she could buy her laptop and then ordered the rest of her bedding for her and is having it sent here. What a hero! Cut off support for her the very moment she graduates and then swoop in to save her. What. A. Stand. Up. Guy.

This gets me to thinking about the possibility that he may become a part of her life once again. He and the whore may sneak up to campus and spend weekends with her. He might invite her down to his house so she can live like she used to. He could offer up the use of the pool in their neighborhood. See how nice and luxurious life could be with us?

I’m trying to wrap my mind around this possibility. It does not happen. I have come to the conclusion that I could accept her having a relationship with him. He is her father. But her? Over my dead body. I will not have that whore weaseling her way into my kids’ lives.

The other very real fear is that as he worms his way back into Rock Star’s life he could easily start to share his own version of what happened with her. His version, of course, is that I’m an evil, horrible person who deserved everything he did to me. I didn’t take care of him. I never loved him. We weren’t good for one another. I’m just a bitter, angry person who refuses to thank him for setting me free from the burden of being his wife.

I would like to think that Rock Star is smarter than that and that our bond is deeper than that. But money talks; you hear stories everyday of children who go with the parent that has the deepest pockets.

This is the background story to my pain shopping. Why I chose my next move I am not sure. I suppose I thought I could handle it; I thought I was prepared for anything and figured I could use it as snark in another post.

Oh, there will be snark. But there is also fury and anger and indignation. There has even been some doubt. Doubt that I was a good wife. Doubt that I was a good partner to him. Doubt that I treated him right.

Don’t do what I did! Stay off the social media! No contact is the way to peace and light. Checking up on them is pain shopping. It’s looking for ways to make you doubt yourself; you compare your behind the scenes to their highlight reel and come away feeling like crap in most cases. They are masters at image management; they will never admit when things go to shit. It’s all posed fantasy. I repeat: Do not do what I did!

The Final Days Before the Divorce

They are not going well. I just got another letter from my bank. This time the check was returned due to non sufficient funds. Grand total paid in child and spousal support this month? $1050. What was he supposed to pay? $3600. He is not even close.

Can I remind everyone again that according to his own affidavit he brings home $5800/month. According to the bank records produced the first time around (which would have been in the spring of 2016) the whore was bringing in $5000. $10,800 between the two of them and he can’t cover even half of his court ordered support. Oh, but he can afford to move into a new and bigger house. And I wouldn’t be a bit surprised to find his bank records showing that they can afford to go out to eat, to pay for all kinds of things for her kids, to take trips…

Look, I have never claimed math is my strong suit but even I know that $10,800 is greater than $9700, which is what he brought home the last year we were together. I know that he’s no longer paying approximately $2500 in credit card payments, car payments, telephone bill for both kids and me, kids’ allowances, and a pool loan. According to my calculations that’s an increase of over $3500/month! So how is it that even though the two nitwits are living on more money than we had coming in and they’re paying out less in bills than we did, that he can’t afford to send his court ordered support?

In addition to that little bit of unwelcome news I was reviewing my lawyer’s worst case scenario. This must have completely slipped my mind because in a worst case scenario, if the judge goes strictly by what I make and what he makes, not what he was making, I will end up with a little over $2300/month in spousal and child support. It will go down to right around $2000 in seven months when Rock Star graduates from high school. And once Picasso graduates 3 years later I will be left with $1100 in spousal support. $1100 a month for wasting 20 years of my life with that asshole. $1100/month for uprooting my life and then later my kids’ lives whenever he wanted to take the next bigger, better job. $1100/month for raising our kids and putting my financial future in his hands.

My attorney seems to think we will prevail in our arguments and that the worst case scenario would actually be more like around $3000/month. It’s still a pittance compared to what I should be getting. It’s a slap in the face. Considering that even if I got the $3000/month he and the whore will be living on at least $7800 while the kids and I live on $4400, it’s just patently unfair. If he gets away with the unthinkable and only pays the $2000 we’ll live on $3400 while he and the whore live on $8800. That sucks even more!

I know I shouldn’t freak out before anything bad actually happens. I can’t help it. Every time I have felt hopeful I have been slapped back down to reality. Nothing in this damn divorce has gone my way. Cousinfucker and Harley seem to just skip blithely along, doing whatever they want, whenever they want to do it, and they suffer absolutely no consequences. So I’m doing my best to steel myself for a cheater heavy verdict.

I’ve got big plans for this upcoming weekend. I’d like to enjoy myself. I can’t do that if I walk into the courtroom expecting to win big and then end up leaving defeated, with that cousin fucking, child abandoning, cheating, lying sonofabitch winning and getting away with everything.

So, the countdown has begun and the worries and fears are following closely behind. I’m hoping the week goes by quickly and I am well prepared for court.

Finally, I broke a nail. Damn! Let’s just add that on to the list.

It’s Really Me This Time

I don’t want to say too much about what’s going on with court because I’m very superstitious and I don’t want to jinx myself. I promise I’ll come clean with all the details once court is over.

I will share this much with you for right now. Mr. Bullshit is once again bullshitting. Surprise, surprise! He is claiming he owes the VA over $75,000. Upon closer examination of the document he submitted it appears that he only owes that amount if he ever wants to get a new mortgage through the VA.

Oh, I’m sure he does! I know he and the whore talked about their dream home and I’m sure he’s promised her a home to call her own. Or their own. Too bad, so sad. If I can’t buy a house he doesn’t get to buy a house. How do you like that, Cousinfucker?

I’ll also share this with you. We are trying to come to a settlement agreement, at least on the property. It’s looking like no matter what I am going to have to account for the $27,000 I transferred over so that Cousinfucker couldn’t continue funding the whore’s lifestyle. Not that it mattered because he just cut us all off and gave her even more.

No, it turns out even though I took that money so that we would have it to pay off the pool he watched being built while he fucked her… even though I took that money to protect my kids since I was a stay at home mom with few job prospects… even though I took that money and used it to buy groceries and pet food and household items…. he still is entitled to half of it.

I guess if you’re the bread winner you are free to financially rape your family when you decide to trade them in for a whore.

Basically, how it will work is that they add up all the money I owe him which would be the the money I transferred over, minus the $5000 I paid towards the pool, and put that up against the money he owes me. He and his lawyer also want to include my share of my car and the garage sale proceeds but I have since thrown an absolute fit about that so my attorney is going to run the numbers again with that excluded.

As expected they balked at the February separation date but using the September date makes him pay me the difference between what he actually paid me and what he would have owed me.

His lawyer’s plan was for him to take on all the marital debt and then I would have to pay him for half. I, of course, don’t like that idea because I know damn well he is not going to pay the full amount we owe. I’m basically paying the full amount and getting dinged on the 401k. So I told my attorney I would take one of the credit cards. At least I wouldn’t have to pay him another $3500 or so, and I’ll be free to make whatever deal I want with them.

If it all goes according to plan I will end up with about $45-$50,000 of the 401k while he retains more like $70,000.

My attorney did point out that by giving him more of the 401k then we could ask for him to have to liquidate enough to pay me my back support, which is now over $20,000. In other words, I would still end up with the majority of the 401k; it would just be that part of it would be a cash payout that he has to pay taxes on.

It’s not a done deal so I’m not celebrating, but my attorney seems to think that’s pretty close to what the judge would order anyway so why not take it? It shortens our time in court and then we only have to try the spousal support and legal fees.

So cross your fingers for me, send out positive vibes, say a prayer, do whatever good juju you believe in. I’m finally getting to the end. I’ve got 9 more days and then this long nightmare will be over.

Honestly, I’m looking forward to it being done. I can look to the future and not have to try to predict what’s going to end up happening.

Am I Truly Happy? Part 2

I guess I didn’t realize some people were so two dimensional. I am very much a three dimensional kind of person. That question of, “How can you say you’re happy when you sound so bitter?” brings me back to the days of trying to have a baby.

We tried for four years before Rock Star was born. It took me nine months to get pregnant the first time and it ended in a miscarriage two weeks later. It took me another nine months the second time and that pregnancy ended only days later. After undergoing some very painful tests I managed to get pregnant 6 months later the third time; that pregnancy was an ectopic pregnancy which took weeks to diagnose and find. Finally, after more than a year after the last loss, I got pregnant with Rock Star.  Meanwhile, my brother and all of his friends were having babies as teenagers. Not just as teenagers, but as people that weren’t even trying to have a baby. In every situation the parents to be were saying, “Oops! What now?” Everyone around me seemed to be having a baby.

In the beginning it was undeniably difficult. I was definitely jealous. Add on to that the fact that my niece was born the day after I miscarried the first time. I remember my brother asking me, “When are you going to come see her?” and me replying, “I just need more time.” It took me a month before I could see her.

I remember I met up with my SIL to be at a dress shop where she was shopping for a wedding dress. And I took that sweet little bundle of delicious baby out of the car seat and I fell in love. I hugged her and loved on her and never looked back. I took that child for weekends when she was younger. When she got stung by a jellyfish I took her in my arms and ran with her through the sand back to the townhouse so that the stings could be doused in ammonia. It was not a short run and as I’ve walked that path in the ensuing years I tell her, “I’m not sure how I did that.” I took her for Spring Break when her parents didn’t know how they were going to pay for child care during the time off from school. I flew her out to see me over the summer when I lived 1500 miles away. I drove 600 miles for a single weekend just to cheer her up when college decision making was overwhelming her. I love her beyond words and she loves me. I am one of her favorite people. It took me a month to be able to see her but ever since that day in the dress shop I have loved that child and I have been the best aunt I could be to her.

Eventually I got to the point where I wanted people, if they were to say anything about my circumstances, to say that I handled myself with grace. I didn’t want to be the jealous, bitter childless woman. I didn’t want to be the woman who couldn’t bear to look at babies or pregnant women, the woman who couldn’t attend a baby shower or child’s birthday party.  As more people I knew got pregnant, especially those who were not trying, I could be happy for them when they shared their news and yet still be sad for myself. I told others in the same situation that exact same thing. Being sad for yourself doesn’t mean you’re not happy for them. It just means they are pregnant and you are not. They’re having a baby, and you are not. It’s okay to feel sad about what you’re missing.

I also realized that other people getting pregnant didn’t lessen my chances. It was still difficult to take sometimes. I was sad for myself because I didn’t know if I would ever become a mom. That’s a hard fact to face when you want that. But the sadness I felt for myself didn’t take away the happiness I felt for others. Hell, to this day I feel a twinge of jealousy when I hear of people who have no problems getting pregnant, or people who have the number of children that I wanted. I am grateful for my two; I truly am. I wanted more, though, and I didn’t get to realize that dream.

That’s the answer to the first question. I can be happy and still be angry at everything my kids and I have been through. For those of you who have read for a while you know the hell I’ve been through, especially since June 10th. So when someone believes it’s impossible to be upset, or angry about what CF has done and still be happy at the same time I am amazed.

I think of my cousin who lost her oldest son in Afghanistan. In the beginning I think she was practically paralyzed by the grief. She mourns his loss every single day. It doesn’t mean she doesn’t have some happy times finally, 5 years later. She has two other children. She takes pride in them and their accomplishments. She spends time with them; she loves them. She’s gone to some fantastic places, done some fantastic things, and had some amazing times. And yet still, there is that loss. It will never go away.

Every holiday when her two kids are gathered around at her house she is going to notice the gaping absence of their brother. When her two other kids get married they will all be missing him and knowing that he should have been there. When she becomes a grandmother for the first time she is going to be reminded of the loss. Every time his birthday rolls around… every time the date of his death passes by… every time a milestone in life is celebrated and he’s not there to celebrate with them… it hurts her and she mourns. Obviously losing your child is not the same as your spouse cheating on you and yet…

Six months ago I was crying every day. I was begging God to end my life; I prayed for an aneurysm or heart attack on a daily basis. Hell, I thought I was making progress when I begged for a terminal illness instead of instant death. Granted, I was going to use that time to create havoc on CF and Harley with no fear of penalty, but still… it was a slight step up.

I had no joy in my life. It consisted of working and sleeping and running my kids around. That was it. I got up at 3:20 in the morning 5 days out of 7, went to work from 4-7 and then turned around, came home, took Rock Star to school, came back home, and then got ready for my second job. I worked 6 days a week most weeks. By the time I quit I was regularly working 7 days a week.

Now? Well, I don’t cry every day. I’m no longer begging for death. I actually have things I look forward to. I’m no longer working two jobs and getting up at 3:20 am most mornings. I have weekends off. I’m doing my best to cultivate relationships. I’ve joined a group at work. I have more work friends. I’ve been on a couple of wine walks around town. I can occasionally feel hopeful about living back in my hometown and all that it has to offer.

I would consider that happiness.

My kids seem to be doing okay and that makes me happy, although there are slight bumps. Picasso is transitioning into high school so I worry about him more. His group of friends don’t go to the same high school and I worry that he has no friends. His cousin attends the same school and they have a class together and eat lunch together. He seems content but you never know. He just spent the weekend at an anime convention so I suppose all is not lost. As I said to him as I drove him to the convention, “Oh, you love anime. You’ll really enjoy this convention.” His reply to me? “Yes, Mom, that’s why I’m going.”

Rock Star at times seems to be over the moon happy and at other times seems to hate her life. I realize most seniors reach that point where they’re “done” with high school but the school year has just started! She has already told me senior year is nothing special for her; she doesn’t know these kids all that well. It’s not like she’s spent four years at this school. I’m sure she would be enjoying her senior year a lot more if she were at her old school, the one where she started her high school years. Not some strange school she was forced to attend after being uprooted. I know there has been talk that she shouldn’t have been made a captain since she hadn’t been here as long as the other girls. I know it upsets her and frustrates her. Them’s the breaks when your dad is a selfish asshole who only thinks of himself. Then again, she has her days when she says she’s basically the main captain and the cheer coach listens to her and seeks out her opinion. She goes back and forth on being happy and being miserable. I know that shortly after school started she had a mini breakdown, bawling that she was so tired and she missed me.

I thought maybe she was upset that I had seen the mobster, or that I wasn’t spending enough time with her because I was focused on him, but that wasn’t it. She just plain misses having me around. She said I was never here because I was always at work but that she was never around either because she was either at practice or work. I couldn’t do much more than hold her and stroke her hair, telling her I loved her. We spent some quality hours together this past weekend so hopefully she understands she can always ask for more time.

She’s also been asking to be put on anxiety meds because she says her anxiety is out of control. The doctor is reluctant to do so and is recommending she see a counselor which she refuses to do. Looks like we’re at a stalemate.

Overall, I think they’re both doing okay. They appear to have adjusted to this new, down-sized life. The life where we have about 90% less money, we don’t have a home of our own, and their mother is never around to do mother type things. Because I’m working to earn that 90% less paycheck.

Am I happy my kids seem to be doing okay? Absolutely. It sure as hell beats the months I spent listening to Rock Star cry. She cried over not getting her license on time. She felt defeated because she was once “somebody” and now she was “nobody”. She had few, if any friends, in the beginning. It was heartbreaking seeing my once vibrant daughter who had been “it” at her former school reduced to feeling as though she was a nameless, faceless, nobody in a sea of new students. Yes, my heart did sing when the tide began to turn.

I’m happy I have a job. It doesn’t pay for shit but it covers the bills I have. Unfortunately, that’s about all it does. It beats not having a job and watching every penny you have slowly circle the drain. I’m not yet at that point where I can confidently say that this will lead to great things and a stellar career. I may have to switch companies before I finally make a decent living. But for right now I’m thankful I have a job even if it only pays $11/hour. I’m thankful somebody was willing to hire me and that I am gaining work experience (again).

I’m thankful I have a place to live. I realize that there are countless people out there going through the same thing that either have parents that won’t or can’t let them move in with them, or simply don’t have parents anymore. I also realize my kids and I would be homeless if not for my mom. Seriously. I. Do Not. Make. Enough. to afford even a shitty apartment somewhere. Ironically, I have approximately $555 left over for the month after I’ve paid my bills. That does not include rent, utilities, or food. Or luxury items like toilet paper, saline solution, tampons, pads, dog food, shampoo, or laundry detergent.

With all that said it is still humiliating to be 48 years old with a college education and not be able to provide for your kids.

Is it really that difficult to imagine how I could be beyond grateful to have a place to call home while at the same time feeling ashamed that I can’t even afford an apartment for the 3 of us?  Their father can afford it but I can’t. In fact, as many of you know by now, their father can afford to move his whore cousin and her 4 kids into a lovely, 2800 sq. ft. brick home that looks remarkably like the home he forced us out of.

He can also afford to put his kids and me on his damn insurance but he doesn’t. Instead, the kids and I are on Medicaid. I would pay $370/month for insurance for the three of us through my employer and then I would have a $2600 deductible for each of us. I barely make enough money to pay the damn bills. How in the hell am I going to manage to cough up another $370 for the insurance and then $100 or so to put aside in an HSA for the time when someone needs to go to the doctor? Oh, that’s right. I do have $555 left over at the end of the month so let’s go ahead and eat through all of that extremely generous amount of money.

He can afford to pay child and spousal support but he doesn’t. Instead his kids get free lunches and textbooks through the schools because we’re considered poor.

Is that bitter? Is it angry? Who the hell cares? It’s a fact! Just like it’s a fact that he’s able to afford all of this because I supported his career ambitions for 20 years. I moved all around the country so he could move up. Of course sometimes we moved because he didn’t like his boss or he didn’t like his pay raise. And now he thinks he should be allowed to discard me and his kids, and his lifestyle should remain the same.

I can be pretty damn happy with my life and still be pissed off at CF’s continued financial rape. The truth of the matter is I haven’t yet managed Chump Lady’s goal of gaining a new life. Oh, I suppose I have; it’s just a really shitty new life. I still struggle with being poor. I still struggle with not being able to provide for my kids on my own. I still struggle with the humiliation of using Medicaid and freebies when 2+ years ago I had no financial concerns. Two plus years ago I was the one checking the box that said I would be willing to send in extra money for a child that couldn’t afford a class field trip; today my kid is the one needing the free field trip. I still struggle with this idea that I will move up or find a new, wonderful job that will pay me well. I still struggle with feeling optimistic because every time I’ve ever let myself feel optimistic it has punched me in the face. I still struggle with this idea that he will get away with everything he has done. I’m steeling myself for that on court day. Despite all of that I am happy. I have done my best to try to find the good in all of this. Again, I’m no longer crying every day or begging for death. Things have definitely gotten better.

That brings me to the next question: Will I be okay if he gets away with it all? Will I be okay if my new life with the mobster means living on maybe $60k a year between the two of us? And that is a question I will answer in Part 3.

Am I Truly Happy?

In the past week or so I’ve been asked if I’m truly happy. Apparently it isn’t believable that I could be happy with the recent developments in my life and still be so “angry” and “bitter” over CF and his treatment of me and our kids. I believe I was accused of talking out of both sides of my mouth actually. I’ve also been asked if I can be happy regardless of the outcome of my divorce. That was a question posed by the mobster one day, and one that I have mulled over at length.

Let’s tackle the first question. Am I truly happy? Or more to the point, how can I say I’m happy when I still rail against the injustice of infidelity and divorce? How can I say I’m happy when I have no desire to be friends with Cousinfucker, and still have copious amounts of anger towards him and the whore?

I believe I already attempted this explanation back in November. My divorce is not final. I don’t have a settlement. What he originally offered me was a joke. He continues to do shit, and a lot of that shit is not something I can easily ignore. Like, say, stopping payment on his support checks. Or…. not paying his court ordered support.

Believe me, I would love to be in a position where his support check was simply a bonus. At this point in time, however, I am not. I am a 48 year old woman re-entering the workforce after a more than 15 year absence. I make $11/hour and I have two kids that are used to living a fairly affluent life. After I pay my current bills I don’t have enough money to rent an apartment, pay utilities, and buy food and necessities, much less have anything left over for fun or for my kids. It’s going to be a long time before I’m truly able to stand on my own and not need his support check.

I’ve said before that he has simply shed his old life for a new one. And that is hard to take some days. After his first affair with Harley (the emotional one) I told him if he ever did this to me again I would make what happened to Jezebel’s Husband #2 seem like a walk in the park. In my old FB entries I referenced taking everything and destroying what I couldn’t take. The truth is he is losing nothing. Nothing that he cares about anyway. And I can’t do anything to him.

Sure, his kids don’t talk to him but he doesn’t really care. It’s good for a pity party soundbite, to act like he misses them and loves them, but the reality is he doesn’t give a shit. He’s got four new kids and they will fawn all over him and act like all his big gifts mean the world to them. Let’s face it- their lives have dramatically improved. They’ve been moved into a home that is nicer than anything they’ve ever lived in. Their mom’s income has doubled by partnering up with my husband, and in turn, their lifestyle has dramatically increased. He goes to their cheerleading competitions and show and tell. I wouldn’t be surprised to find out he’s coaching one of their sports teams. He’s much more involved with them than he ever was with our kids.

Me and my kids? Well, we went from living in a 4000 sq. ft. home with a pool, hot tub, game room, separate bathrooms for all, and nice huge bedrooms into living in my mom’s 1500 sq. ft. home. We live with my mom! He lives with his whore. And our income/lifestyle has decreased by 90% or more. 90%, folks. Think about that for a minute. Imagine losing 90% of everything you have and then get back to me and tell me how happy you are. Tell me you have a smile on your face every fucking day and that you never think about everything that you’ve lost. I will, in turn, tell you that you are a liar.

It is an overwhelming sense of hopelessness. I told him I would wreck havoc upon his life if he ever cheated on me again and I haven’t. I can’t. There is nothing I can do to hurt him and to wreck his life the way he wrecked mine, and by extension, our kids. He is getting away with everything and doing beautifully in his new life.

The mobster likes to point out I won’t walk away with nothing. He’s going to have to give me half of his 401k and pension. I know he’s not eager to hand over any money but the reality is he’ll be able to easily make up for that money he’s had to pay out. He can replace it in about 5 years. I will never be able to replace what I’m losing financially.

He will have to pay child support. He may end up paying spousal support. There is a really good possibility that the amount of support he has to pay out, regardless of how much it may piss him off, still won’t bring my lifestyle anywhere close to his. Combined and accounting for child support I think they live on about $12k a month. If he has to pay me $2000/month for both child and spousal support he’s still living on what we used to and I’m living on a third- and that’s only while he’s paying child support for both kids.

So I do my best to not think about those things. I absolutely do my best to try not to think about the lavish lifestyle he’s living and the fact that his income has actually gone up. I do my best to concentrate on the things that are going well in my life and to not dwell on the fact that his life is not falling apart. I try my best to think about the positives. I do my best to concentrate on me and making my life good and I try like hell not to think about everything that cousinfucking piece of shit is getting away with.

You know what? Some days I fail. Some days I rage against the injustice. Some days I find it hard to have faith in myself and believe that I will one day rise out of all of this bullshit and be successful on my own. Some days I find it difficult to believe that I will ever be in a position where I can not only pay my bills but also move out into my own place and still have enough money to help my kids out and go on vacations and go out to dinner and the movies and to buy gifts. There are many days when it is difficult to believe that this, this right here and now, is not how it’s always going to be. I have a really tough time looking into the future and believing that things are going to be so much better.

Does that mean I’m angry and bitter? No, it means I’m trying to be happy with the little that I have. It means that sometimes I get these little surges of hope that I will be able to do great things and lead a great life, one that is even greater than if I remained married to Cousinfucker.

That Cousinfucking Sonofabitch!

Remember when I told you that CF has been sending me checks for $555.55 at random moments? He just sent his 7th one this past week.

I procrastinate; I admit it. Going through mail is not one of my favorite things but apparently when you’re married to a fucking fucktard you need to do that more often. It turns out I had not one, but two, of his checks returned and my account charged $10 each time. Oh, and get this. It wasn’t because there were insufficient funds in the account. No! They were returned because he stopped the fucking payment on them!

Is there any fucking justice in the world? I have tried so hard to be a grown up and to not do anything crazy but he is testing my patience. I haven’t bothered with calling the company that manages his 401k and reporting him because what does it gain? As people have pointed out the whore isn’t married to him so she can’t claim a damn thing if he dies before the divorce. I’ll tell you what it gains. It gives me a set of balls. It tells him and the whore both that you don’t mess around with Sam because she will fuck you over in a heartbeat if you mess with her.

I didn’t toss his ass out of the house after finding out about his whoring around. I didn’t toss his shit out onto the lawn. I didn’t vandalize his car or put up signs so everyone would know what a lying, cheating piece of shit he was. And what did it gain me? It gained me a reputation as a pussy. Oh don’t worry. Sam won’t do anything. She’ll always be reasonable. She’ll always be calm.

Fuck that! Maybe I need to go nuclear. Maybe they need to start thinking I am crazy. Holy shit! Don’t fuck with Sam. You don’t know what that crazy bitch will do next!

If I knew I would be vindicated in court I could keep my shit together a hell of a lot better. But I have no faith whatsoever that that will happen. He’ll just get to keep fucking me over. I hate him.

Shitty beginning to the weekend. Shitty ending.

My Latest Update

Nothing to see here, people. Move along!

Last time I updated everyone I had just received some of my back support and had been presented with CF’s most ungenerous settlement offer. I sent back one of my own. After a week my lawyer finally got back to me.

Ah, such great news. It turns out that regardless of how much money CF may end up making he won’t ever be ordered to pay me more than I need. Stick with me here, everybody. Essentially, what she’s telling me is that because he forced us out of our home, forced me to live on no income for months and then forced me to work 2 jobs, and because he thereby forced us to reduce our living expenses by over $200,000 per year, he now gets a break on paying spousal support! Isn’t that wonderful? AND in addition to that the judge will also take into consideration CF’s expenses. Of course, CF is maintaining that he has expensive rent and utilities to pay so that must be taken into consideration.

As I asked my lawyer, “How is it possible that only a few months ago he was totally supported by his ‘girlfriend’ and now he’s completely responsible for the rent and utilities in HER house?” He also seems to forget that that is not HIS rent or utilities. That house was rented by her and her now ex-husband before she ever started fucking my husband.

It’s always something. And it’s never good.

My attorney also told me I need to retain the expert witness, STILL, in order for us to continue on to trial. $3500 out of my bank account. For why? I’m not sure. Even she admitted it was stupid to have to try to refute his expert witness when he was once again working in the same industry at the same job.

Oh, and she also let me know that it would probably cost me another $10,000 for the trial. Fantastic!

Needless to say I have not yet submitted my resignation at Target. My job at the bank simply will not be sufficient to pay the bills, buy food, buy household items and have anything left over. I’ve paid off 3 out of 4 of my credit cards and my phone contract is up this month so I can lower that bill as well. I’ve also paid my mom back in full. What this means is I would have plenty of money to quit my job if not for having to pay upwards of $10,000 on this damn trial.

CF sent another check, labeled February support, but he has not sent this month’s support check. I don’t know if he will. I don’t know if he’ll send anything next month either. He basically operates on his own set of rules.

So… I haven’t rushed to put my notice in even though I’d love to call it quits before the end of this month. I’m just really worried about the money situation. Plus, I have no idea what our final settlement is going to look like. What he’s willing to pay right now for spousal support barely covers what I make at my second job. Have I mentioned I’m fucking poor even while working two jobs? Yeah, I’m poor. Why on earth he would think that being poor while only working one job would be so much better than being poor working two jobs is beyond me, but that’s the genius’s thinking.

My lawyer was also suggesting that she tell him he could forget any claims to personal property on his behalf like I was willing to forget all the money he had spent on the whore.

Um, first of all, the shit eating chimp was going to drop that anyway if I agreed to the settlement. Secondly, what? A huge part of the reason that I switched lawyers to begin with was because my first attorney was suggesting that we would call it even with everything he spent on the whore versus what I had taken to pay off the pool, and then later used to live on when CF began his financial rape of me. When I appeared in her office the first time, she was adamant that me spending marital income on the household and the kids was not the same as him spending marital income on his whore and her kids. She even told me that I should be credited for the $5000 that I paid towards the pool out of that money. She also asked me why my previous attorney didn’t ask for arrears and told me we could ask for it in the final settlement. Now it’s: Hey, I know he cashed in almost $6200 in stocks and spent it all on the whore and her kids. I know he sent her almost $2000 out of your joint checking account and spent additional funds on her, also out of your bank account. I know he lived in the house rent free for 6 months, paying you “support” and expecting you to take care of all of the bills while he spent almost $5000/month on his whore and her kids. I know you paid his car insurance until June. I know his final car payment came out of his “support” amount to you. I know he bought her and her kid cell phones and let you get online and pay their bill, which altogether totaled almost $1000. But really that’s exactly the same as you taking the $27,000 which was supposed to pay off the pool and using it to feed your children because he couldn’t be bothered to give you enough money to live on. It’s also exactly the same as you selling off any of the furniture and using that to finance your 600 mile move he forced on you and to support your kids while he wasn’t paying a dime in support.

At this moment all she seems to worry about asking for is half of the tax refund. Oh wow- he might have to pay me less than $500! She is also planning on asking for legal fees, which are already up to approximately $10,000.

TEN THOUSAND DOLLARS, PEOPLE! For what? I’m about ready to represent myself! For $10,000 I have a back support check for almost half of what was originally ordered. That’s it. And for another $10,000 I might possibly get almost double the amount of child support he was offering… for a year! Then I’m down to right around what he was offering to pay for the both of them.

As for our divorce date that has now been pushed back to the end of September. If we go to trial it will mean that I end up living this never ending nightmare for more than two years from start to finish. Some days I feel like I’m about one smart ass comment away from starring in an episode of Snapped.

I’m not very happy with my now former state and it’s lovely one year waiting period. I realize it’s a long shot but perhaps we could have come to a settlement immediately after I found out. Maybe he would have felt a tiny smidgeon of guilt and I would have ended up with what I wanted. Doubtful. He went into shock the moment I got a dime more than he thought I was going to receive. Maybe I would have fared better if he was itching to get married. Although when I think about it why would that even be an incentive?

He’s living with her now. They have a joint bank account. They live like husband and wife. Nobody looks at them like the evil, incestuous asswipes that they are. Nobody tells them they are wrong and what they are doing is disgusting. Everyone tells them how happy they are for them. So why rush it? It’s not like his current marriage is preventing them from going forward with their lives.

My lawyer is putting together my counter offer sometime this week. I’m a little worried about this because there were some issues I raised in my response to her and I’m expecting her to send me a copy to approve before she sends it out to his attorney. I reminded her that I wanted life insurance in there and proof of income each year. I’m also not willing to simply forget about all the damn money he spent on Harley the Whore and his new fake family. At the very least remind the sonofabitch about all of that! It will probably be another 2-3 weeks before I hear anything. Hell, his lawyer could go into labor and that would move everything back until at least August.

I so want this to be over but I don’t want to roll over and let him get away with paying practically nothing. I want to fight and yet I don’t really feel like I’m going to gain much of anything. I think my judge tends to sympathize with the men because he’s been on the paying end of alimony and child support. I’m hoping that he will impute his wages at what they were before he quit his 15 year job and that he will award me what I’m asking for but I’m not optimistic. I do know his child support will be higher than what CF offered to pay. My lawyer did point out that he was offering to pay for both of them until they both graduated, but it is for almost less than half of what he would be ordered to pay. Plus, if he continues to not pay his court ordered support maybe the judge will be pissed off enough to throw the book at him. He was 8 months behind when we went to court the first time. If he doesn’t pay anything else until our next court date he will be behind 7 months.

That’s about all that’s going on with me. Still living through divorce hell. Still working two jobs. Still getting up at 3:30 am most mornings and working 6 days a week most weeks. Still feeling like crap most of the time. Still not enjoying life or gaining a new life, although I have moments where I have tiny little bursts of optimistic thinking. I think I’m going into menopause, so that’s something new. I don’t know if that’s good or bad. I’ve given up my plea for a massive heart attack or aneurysm; I’ve decided if I go early I would prefer a terminal illness so I have time to do whatever the hell I want without having to worry about consequences so that’s kinda positive, right? I mean, I’m taking a lingering terminal illness with definite future plans over a sudden death. Baby steps!

Zen Is Losing

The title is a quote from my mother. I told her I was trying to be zen about everything that was happening.  Next thing I know I’m going off on a rant. My mother looks at me and says matter-of-factly, “I think Zen’s losing.” Did I mention this was while we were on our way to the hardware store to get my chainsaw repaired after I had been sawing down a giant bush in the backyard? With a chainsaw? Yeah, I was pretty bad ass.

Anyway… I was all set to write an uplifting post about how I’m finally feeling more positive. How I’m so excited that I am only working four days at Target next week and only three or four the following week as well. Yippee! I was going to write about seeing an end to this bleak future and that maybe things were looking up a little bit and I could finally take some time out for me.

Then I got CF’s settlement offer the other night when I got home from work. Oh my! It was a doozy. I’m going to level with you all and use actual numbers because it makes the mind fuckery so much clearer when I spell it out in clear, concise terms instead of saying things like, “six figures” and “it was a joke”.

Keep in mind this is a man who has made six figures for the last 15 years. Keep in mind this is a man who voluntarily walked away from a job where he earned approximately $230,000 the last year he was with that company. His gross annual salary included stocks, dividend checks, and bonuses. Also pay attention to the fact that he just accepted a job offer for $100,000/year (after conveniently telling my lawyer his earning potential was only $30,000). Conveniently there was no mention of a bonus or stock options or anything like that.

That shit eating chimp offered me $700 a month in spousal support. For 9.5 years. SEVEN HUNDRED DOLLARS!

That’s what he feels I’m owed after a 20 year marriage. After following him all around this damn country so he could further his career. After he cheated on me and discarded me. After he discouraged me from working so I don’t have a chance in hell of ever working  a decent paying job in my life. So much for his claim that his lawyer assured him I would be taken care of financially forever. Ha! I laughed when he was thinking that paying me just over $3k a month meant that I was being “well provided for” for life. At $700 a month I’ve got tears rolling down my cheeks and my stomach hurts from laughing so hard.

He’s offering to pay $800/month in child support. For two kids. On $100,000 a year. That’s less than 10% of his income. Oh, but he’s willing to pay it until they graduate from high school! How generous! That’s not something that’s regularly ordered. Oh, wait! My bad. It totally is something that is regularly ordered.

The way it is written I can’t tell if he’s offering to pay that extremely generous $800 until BOTH kids have graduated, or he’s just acknowledging that he’ll pay child support on each child until high school graduation. Either way it’s not a generous offer.

He is also trying to get me to accept any back support, including that which he just paid me, as coming from my portion of the retirement.

So let me get this straight… he owes me over $10,00 still. He finally paid up the back support. I’m sure the threat of a fine is the only reason I saw a dime. He’s legally obligated to split his 401k with me 50/50. So he’s going to pay me out of that 401k and he thinks the fair thing to do is then split the money left over or reduce my portion according to his support obligation? No, no, no, no, no. He’s actually expecting me to pay me my own back support. How very convenient.

I was shocked that he agreed to take on almost all of the marital debt. He must be planning something, or he’s already talked to the creditors and they’ve agreed to accept a lower amount.

He actually put it in there that I was to take responsibility for my car. Yeah, like I haven’t been making the payments or paying the insurance this entire time. The only reason the property taxes weren’t paid was because he was sent the bill and instead of forwarding it on to me or even telling me about it he simply kept it and then whined to his lawyer because he thought I had sold the car.

Oh, and because this is CF you know there has to be something else in there that just sucks ass a little bit more. He’s agreeing to take on his American Express card. And to pay the balances on the utilities that weren’t paid after the kids and I left.

Wow- so he’s not trying to go after me paying 50% on the American Express bill when it was filled with expenditures for the whore and her kids? That’s so kind of him! And, as a bonus, he’s willing to pay the utilities that I left him responsible for. I emailed him all of the information. The wi-fi was in his name so I couldn’t turn it off. The electric was in his name as well. I’m almost certain the water and sewage bills were going to him because I certainly never received a bill. They were all paid up when I vacated the residence. Some of them even had a positive balance. I told him all of this. Yet, Harley was too busy spending her money on whatever she wanted to actually pay a damn utility bill on behalf of her married boyfriend.

I have been running the figures because I wanted to know how much he would have left over after paying me his new support figure. The one the judge ordered him to pay. He would definitely be paying me more than 50% after taxes. I think what he’s trying to do is make sure that his lifestyle remains the same. He wants to bring home approximately $5000; that’s what he had to spend on the whore during the period of time when he was living at home with us, giving me what he thought he was going to be paying, and not paying a damn thing towards the household bills. Five grand to blow on a whore and her kids. She brings home $5000. She even gets child support from her cheated on husband. So the kids and I are supposed to live on approximately $3000/month while he and Harley the whore live on ten grand, plus some. Or, in other words, they live on the monthly take-home pay that the kids and I used to live on, plus child support while the kids and I live on peanuts. I’m sure he made promises to the whore and he’s trying like hell to keep them. His lifestyle doesn’t take a hit but his kids and I live in poverty forever more.

Keep in mind, too, that he will no doubt stop paying support on our daughter the second she graduates which means he’ll be paying that incredibly generous $1500/month for a mere one year. Then it will be reduced. I don’t think she’s going to go from being dependent to being fully independent the day she graduates. Considering she’s planning on going to college she’s going to be dependent upon me for at least four more years. It will be so easy to assist her with those cheap college costs on my $700 worth of spousal support. Also keep in mind that with him paying me the additional money that we will probably no longer qualify for Medicaid, which means I’m back to paying $360-$365/month for medical insurance, plus another $10-$15 per paycheck for dental and vision, which puts my total monthly insurance premiums at almost $400. The kids will probably also lose their free textbooks and free lunches so that is even more money out of my pocket. Ultimately, his incredible offer of paying me $1500/month in spousal and child support is actually only about $1000 extra dollars for me. I make somewhere between $600-$650 per month working my second job, so if I quit that job then I now have a huge $400 extra per month! Oh my God- I’m rich!

Somehow with all the voodoo figures they’ve come up with they’re offering me around $62,000 from a 401k valued at $185k. Or, put another way, I get $62,000 and he gets over $120,000. I’m not sure how they’ve done the math on that. As an alternative, he’s willing to pay me $30,000 in lieu of any spousal support, so I would wind up with $92,000. Of course, I can’t touch it until I’m 65 or something so it does me little good right here and now. FYI, they’ve conveniently forgotten about the other 401k that he has. It’s smaller, but with the stock market going crazy it may be worth another 8 or 10 grand.

He’s going to start paying that generous $1500 on May 1st if a settlement is reached. And he believes any other arrears (meaning support for February, March and April) should come out of my share of the retirement. So, as I said before he’s not planning on paying any of that remaining back support. And I won’t be receiving a support payment in May either, even though he is now working.

I love how he interprets the judge’s orders. It wasn’t enough that the judge reduced his payments by almost 50%. Oh hell no! Now he wants his support obligation reduced again by more than 50%! And he’s just unilaterally decided that he’s not going to pay that amount. He’s not going to pay for the remaining months he owes. No, he expects me take that out of what he owes me. There’s no settlement agreement but he’s not wiling to pay the $3600 he owes; instead of paying the amount the judge ordered him to pay he’ll just pay me a piddly ass little $1500 and call it good. Oh gosh no! Harley’s got more trinkets to buy.

Oh, the final insult was him letting me know he wouldn’t pursue reimbursement of the items I took or sold from the house. Ha! How soon he forgets about all the money he sent to the whore and her kids. He must have amnesia when it comes to that stock he cashed in and deposited in their bank account. Do two new cell phones ring a bell? No? How about the fact that I left behind tons of stuff at that house when I left- the washing machine and dryer, a couch, coffee tables, his tool box and all his tools, the lawn mower, the snow blower, his golf clubs, a bedroom set. I sold off furniture and some household goods. Most of the really expensive stuff was still left behind. It wouldn’t have mattered if I had left every goddamn thing behind and only taken one thing. He would act like he was doing me some magnanimous favor by not seeking half of that item’s value. He also tends to forget that I sold all that shit off when he was no longer working and no longer sending me a dime in child support. I used that money to support our children since the deadbeat couldn’t be bothered.

My lawyer is on vacation. Again. Good God, does this woman ever work? I’ve only known her since February of last year. She’s been on vacation at least three times since then. Before I found out she was on vacation, though, I wrote her an email and told her I absolutely rejected his offer. I told her we will probably go to court because we are so very far apart in what we want. I told her I’d been screwed over enough by him and I wasn’t taking it anymore. I’d rather go before a judge and have him award CF everything he asked for, rather than agree to it on my own. I’m done getting fucked over in every interaction with him. I also told her to let his lawyer know that if I don’t receive a check for the full support amount on May 1st I’m hauling his pathetic ass back to court. Go ahead, douchebag. Explain to the judge why you’re not paying child and spousal support again.

I realize this is not set in stone. I also realize he’s going to try to get away with as much as possible. I’m hoping that once my lawyer returns from vacation she laughs his offer off the table and tells me he’s not offering anything close to what I will automatically be awarded.

His lawyer keeps mentioning arrears and how he won’t be liable for any other arrears so I’m wondering if there isn’t the possibility that I could seek arrears from the period of time where he wasn’t paying court ordered support.

Nonetheless, it’s draining. I’m exhausted from working all the time and from constantly being thrown some new curve ball by the sleazebag. I do my best to try to ignore it and just tell myself that I have all the time in the world. I’m not the one itching to get remarried. I continue to remind myself that I’ve already lost everything and I’m still standing. I’ve worked two fucking jobs with horrible hours for the last four and a half months. I’ve worked two jobs while being the only full-time parent my kids have. His pathetic attempts to buy me off for nothing don’t sway me. I’m not afraid to go to court. I’ve already been there; he stayed at home. His offer is laughable. It’s not even an offer. It’s an attempt to fuck me up the ass yet again. I’m still really tired of it, though. I’ve been drug through the mud and financially raped by him for almost two years. For two years I’ve sat by and watched as he’s gotten away with everything. It’s about time he spends his days crying. The bottom line? Give me what I want, Cousinfucker, or I’ll see you in court.

Life Rollercoaster

Is this about over? I swear, every time I start to be a little more optimistic I get knocked on my ass. I was just thinking about how working two jobs has allowed me to have a tiny little bit of breathing room, that maybe I’m not so completely poor and that maybe I can provide just a tiny bit for my kids.

Then life comes along and says, “Not so fast!” I’m not sure what it is I’ve done to deserve all this hell being heaped upon me. I don’t sleep with married men. I don’t steal. I don’t beat my kids. I’m generally a very kind, giving person. I like to think I have a good sense of humor and am a good friend.

“What happened?” you may be wondering. Let me tell you. First, I open the letter from my attorney (who needs another 3 grand, btw). Jackass has got an expert witness lined up to testify that he’s unable to work because of his supposed PTSD. Great! An expert witness who will tell the judge that poor little sweetie pie can’t work because he’s suffering from the trauma of war.

You wanna know who should have a fucking PTSD diagnosis? Me! I was moved 2000 miles away from my entire life to make him happy only to find out he would never be happy. I put him and his happiness above me and my kids and our happiness only to be shit on repeatedly. I trusted that cousin fucking piece of shit and he turned around and spent an entire summer looking me right in the face and lying.

I’ve gone from being in the top 2-3% of the socioeconomic population to the bottom 5-10%. I’ve lost my home. I was forced to move out of the state. I was forced to move in with my mom or be homeless. I had to get rid of almost all of my possessions. I had to tell my kids we had to move. I had to rip their lives apart again. I’ve gone from being a stay at home mom who lives for her kids and does everything for them, to being a person who works 2 jobs, 55 hours a week, 6 days out of seven, who farms almost everything out for my kids and who dreads having to go to another event when I’m already so damn tired and my days are already so fucking long. I hate my life. I have absolutely no joy in it. I pray every day that I will die early so that I don’t have to do this shit anymore. But you don’t see me getting a fucking expert witness to testify that I’m just way too fucking fragile to work.

You know what I do? I scream and cry and cuss that sonofabitch out all the way to work. And then I pull myself together, dry my tears and go to work. Why? Because unlike Cousinfucker I don’t have a fucking choice! I don’t get to ignore my kids and pretend they don’t have needs because hey, out of sight, out of mind!

I’ve been doing this all along, with no one by my side telling me how wonderful I am and how horrible he was. I get up and I GO  every single fucking day. Every morning I wake up at 3:20 in the fucking morning. While the rest of the world sleeps I’m up and getting ready to go to my first job and stock shelves and toss boxes around. It’s not glamourous. It’s not easy. It’s not fun. And it pays for shit.

Then I come home, get ready for my second job, and I go to work and I smile and I joke with customers and I’m all happy and cheerful while my life is spiraling down the drain and I continue to go through this divorce from hell.

That’s what I do. Meanwhile, Cousinfucker finds himself an expert witness to testify that he can’t possibly work.

But that’s not all. Because Cousinfucker refuses to work and pay support I have been forced to work two jobs so that I can pay the bills and feed the kids. My second job doesn’t pay for a boat. It isn’t paying for a luxury vacation or three or four. It doesn’t allow us to go out and go on shopping sprees. No, my second job means I can buy food. If either of my kids needs something for school I can probably buy it. It means I’m not down to $1 by the time pay day rolls around.

My daughter works as well. She works so that she can buy a car because her dad decided he’d rather go fuck his cousin instead of sticking around and helping to raise his kids. She works so that she can buy the clothes that I can no longer buy her. She works so that she can help to pay her car insurance because I’m not sure I can take another $100/month hit. She works so that she can go out with friends, buy make-up, grab something to eat, and just have spending money in general because her father refuses to pay support, which in turn means I can’t do any of those things for her. Or her brother.

Guess what it also means?

It means between the two of us we now make too much for me or my kids to qualify for Medicaid. Yes, I got that lovely bit of news as well. The program that I was once embarrassed to need I am now crying over. No doubt due to the fact that I will now need to get a third job to pay for the medical insurance I will have to purchase through work. It’s $185 every two weeks and it’s a high deductible plan. I have to pay out $2600/person before it kicks in a dime. Isn’t that wonderful? Or I take the tax penalty come next April. Awesome! And with my luck if I don’t carry insurance on them then some catastrophe will hit one of them. Then again, I’m broke anyway so who cares if I have to declare bankruptcy because of medical bills?

If I quit my second job then my kids don’t eat and there are no tiny extras, like Easter baskets or money for school sports. Or, my retired mother has to shoulder even more of the burden of the three of us. If I don’t quit my second job then I need to get a third job. I guess I’ll find something where I can work Saturday and Sunday. I’ll work 14 hour days on Saturday and Sunday will be my light day where I only work 8 1/2 hours. I’ll get two of those a week and those will be my official “days off”. Doesn’t that sound fair? I work three jobs and Cousinfucker works none. I never show up for anything for my kids. I’m never around for my kids. All so that I can support them. Because Cousinfucker won’t pay child or spousal support. And because he’s very busy playing Daddy of the Year to the whore’s four kids.

I’ve been going through old entries, mainly because I deleted a bunch of pictures and realized when I did that I lost my images on the posts. Duh! But as I was reading I realized I kept saying that maybe in six months things would look better. Maybe in a year things would look better. Maybe I was wrong and I would get an amazing job and my kids would do wonderfully here. Maybe this and maybe that. But you know what? None of it is any better. Picasso and Rock Star both are doing well but I’m not. I work two shit jobs for shit pay and that’s cost us our free health care. Their father is doing everything he can to get out of having to pay. I have no new and better life. I have, like, three friends here and I rarely go out with any of them. They all have lives of their own and very little time for me. I have no life outside of work. I’m too fucking tired to do much of anything after I’ve spent 13 hours at work. I have days where I fall asleep sitting up in a chair around 7:30 because I’m so tired I can’t keep my eyes open any longer. I feel horrible even admitting this but I dread the days I have to go to something for either of the kids because it means that I no longer get my 2 hours of down time. And then I feel bad if I don’t go; I feel bad that I don’t want to go. Because I have always wanted to go and support them. I have a life that I am desperately hoping ends sooner rather than later. I try and I try and I try some more. I work my ass off. I desert my kids. I try to be positive and I try to look on the good side of things and it comes around and kicks my ass. Every. Goddamn. Fucking. Single. Time!

You know what’s funny? No one believes me! I mention I hope I die of a massive heart attack and people think I’m joking. Someone once said to me, “I hear you work a second job.” I told her that, yes, I do indeed work a second job. I work from 4-7 am most days before I come into Job #2. She told me she didn’t know how I did it and how I managed and I replied, “Well, I cry every day.” Her response? “You’re so funny!” No, seriously, I cry pretty much every day. No one believes me. They think I’m hysterical. The funny kind, not the crazy kind. And lest anyone gets all worried I’m not suicidal. I wouldn’t kill myself but I’m not looking forward to staying alive most days either.

I really don’t think I can do this anymore. I’m so over all of this shit. I’m so tired of getting knocked down. I’m so tired of feeling just a tiny bit of hope only to have it slapped down hard. So many days I just want to tell him, “Fine! Take it all! I’ll take all the debt. I’ll pay you support. You keep your 401k. You keep your pension. I’ll pay you back for every goddamn thing you think I owe you and you pay me back nothing because everything you took was absolutely positively yours and yours alone. Hell, I’ll pay you half for my goddamn car so that I can still drive it even though you haven’t made a single payment on it in almost 2 years and have never paid the fucking property tax on it!” It still wouldn’t be enough for him. I hate him. I hope he dies. I hope it’s painful. I hope someone videotapes it and sends it to me so that I can watch it every night as a sweet bedtime story as I fall asleep. It might be a nice change from ID TV.

P.S. I know I said earlier I was generally a kind and loving person. I am. Unless I hate you. Then I hope you die. Painfully.