Forced Civilization

Ta-da! This is it. Part 5. Aren’t you glad I broke it up into 5 easily digested pieces? Me too. As always, here are parts 1, 2, 3, and 4. Enjoy!

I’m going to say it one more time: Maintain no contact! If you’ve chosen to remain married, maintain no contact with the affair partner. Pain shopping never ends well.

Remember all those things I’d love to say? It would only result in me looking crazy. Hell, I probably look crazy right now as I write this.

It is patently unfair. They get to preen around like peacocks and we’re expected to sit quietly, say nothing, and be happy for the new couple lest we be deemed “bitter”.

Do they “deserve” to have someone chime in on their page and remind them about the kids he abandoned, or the fact that their happiness came at The Saint’s and my expense? Sure. Would it be fun to say something like, “Hey, it’s great that you can be a dad to her kids; too bad you haven’t seen your own in over 2 years,” or “Does everyone know that you could drive 12 hours round trip to see your whore every weekend for 6 months but you haven’t been able to make that drive to see your children one time in more than 2 years?”? Well, of course it would be fun!

But it will also make me look like a bitter, crazy person. Oh, look; she just can’t let go. It’s so sad that Sam can’t focus on her own life and try to find some happiness. Looks like she’s going to let this divorce destroy her. Her poor children. Obviously, Sam prefers to be bitter and hateful instead of appreciating the fact that her husband of twenty years released her from the burden of being his wife.

Even though I’m telling the truth no one wants to hear it. They want tidy. They want shiny. They want everything to fit comfortably inside a little box. As Jack Nicholson would tell you, “They can’t handle the truth!” They don’t want to hear about all the ill effects of adultery. Affairs are between two people and we just never know what goes on in another person’s marriage. Sam probably had it coming. She was probably a terrible wife and that’s why he cheated. Besides, everyone is happier now so it was all for the best. Get over it!

In playing your role as the crazy ex you give voice to their untruthful narrative. See? I told you she was unreasonable! I told you she was hateful and mean and tried to make me eat a turnip!

You’re just a big bowl of cray cray so what else could they do? They found comfort in one another. They bonded over the craziness that was their exes and all of the abuse and neglect that was heaped upon them. Thank God we found each other and can now revel in real happiness with someone who truly loves me and takes care of me.

When you go after the affair partner instead of the cheating spouse it gets even worse! She’s now the victim in all of this. You are unreasonable! You are blaming the wrong person! She’s crying to anyone who will listen to it and everyone pats her back sympathetically and nods their head in agreement. “Why is she doing this? You slept with her husband and now she’s acting crazy! What’s the big deal? Why won’t she leave you alone? You’re innocent! My God it was just a little bump and grind!”

So you stay away. You maintain no contact because there is nothing to be gained. It is a setup from the very beginning. You are destined to lose. If you point out all the destruction and pain you’re labeled bitter, vengeful, jealous. They tell you to get over it. To think of the children. Your truth is unwanted by these people. Similarly, the cheaters’ truth is lapped up like a luscious bowl of cream.

The ex would like nothing better than to convince everyone that I’m not his victim; I’m exactly the same as him so no one should pay attention to anything I say or anything he’s done. He’s done no worse than me so I can’t talk about him.

It’s not true. I’m not sneaking around behind a clueless wife’s back. I’m not having clandestine meetings in work spaces or parking lots or minivans. I certainly never siphoned off money for a boyfriend and his kids, or took money meant for someone else’s kids. The minute I start to defend myself against him, though, I lose. Facts do not matter to them. The truth does not matter to them. The truth is malleable. You can twist it and turn it to suit your purposes.

Just like he wants everyone to believe he’s a devoted father who loves his children. The only reason he hadn’t seen them in over two years was because of me and the fact that I poisoned them against him.

You end up dropping the rope because you realize the only way to win is to not play. Kind of like War Games. The only move I can make is to keep my mouth shut and let the happy couple look like a couple of idiots with a bunch of delusional supporters. I can snark away at them over here on the safety of my blog. I have to be secure in the knowledge that the only people who really matter know the truth. I realize that if he ever were to get in my face and start slinging shit my way the best thing I could do would be to say, “Dude, I know it’s really important to you to believe that story, so I’m gonna let you have it. It seems to be much more important for you to believe that you’re right than it is to me to prove that you’re wrong.”

I’ll let you in on a little secret. As hard as it may be to stay away and keep silent, it really is the best course of action. Cheaters hate not being central. They hate not being in control. If there’s one thing I’ve learned over these last few years it’s that those of us who have been cheated on have also been slowly and systematically trained to cave and give into the demands of the cheater. It’s not always an overt type of thing; I’d go so far as to say most of the time it’s not. The cheater just always thinks he or she knows best and we follow along. We try so hard not to rock the boat, to give them what they want, to make them happy, that we often end up losing our agency.

Would it have been wonderful to have put a HUGE sign on his car that said, “I tricked my wife and kids into moving 2000 miles away so that I could resume my affair with my cousin!” along with all of his clothes in his work parking lot? Oh my God yes! Would it have felt great to post signs all along the route to our house that said, “Cheater lives here,”? Uh-huh. Or maybe renting a big billboard in their new city with their pictures on it, letting everyone know to congratulate the happy cheaters. Again, yes. Expensive, but yes, it would have been satisfying. There are definitely days I wish I had called her up and told her about my crying kids or that I had ripped him a new one, or that I had even just dumped everything of his out on the lawn.

But you know what? It wouldn’t have mattered. I would have played right into their narrative that I was a crazy, jealous, overbearing pyscho and he had to get away! On the other hand, despite doing none of that I know he lies. He tells people I filed for divorce and he has no idea why. I know he tells people I rounded up all of his stuff into black garbage bags and threw it on the curb. He continues to tell people he moved away from his kids and in with his mistress/cousin six hours away because I forced him to move out of the family home (and wouldn’t let him take one single thing with him!). Ultimately though he knows none of that happened. I cared so little for him and his antics that I simply pretended he no longer existed.

I have no scientific proof of this, but I sincerely believe that ignoring him (or any of them) is much more effective than going balls to the wall with them- spouse or affair partner. Like we can’t fight against the injustice of their stupid image management, they can’t fight against silence. How do you fight against something that isn’t there?

I would like to believe that me ignoring him drives him crazy. I was supposed to beg and plead and instead I merely wiped out the bank account and gave him the deep freeze. There was no pretending to put on a united front. I didn’t protect him. I told our kids the truth. I told my family the truth. Hell, I told the lady at the vet’s office the truth. I sang loud and proud. No fucking way I was going to own his shit show. If he didn’t want everyone in our small town to know he was a liar who moved his entire family across the country to get closer to his cousin then he shouldn’t have done it.

Every time he has tried to antagonize me I have refused to take the bait. Well, except for that one time in May of 2016. Even then I kept it pretty funny and brief.

Hacking my Facebook page? Changed my password. Contacted my lawyer. Proved it was him. Sending text messages to the mobster from a burner phone? Ignored. Playing with child support? Show cause hearing which has resulted in him having to pay large lump sums to me each and every time. Sending the checks in obnoxious envelopes? Ignored. Checks cashed. Telling me to check my damn mailbox and calling me greedy because I dared to ask about support? Let him know that if it was too much for the poor dear to hear from me I’d be more than happy to garnish his paycheck. Fucking around with paying support and doing it on his own schedule. Again, reminded him of the court order and let him know I would be filing a garnishment with the state if he did it again. Doing his own child support modification? Hey, I gave him fair warning and then I contacted my lawyer. All of his lies? Confronted with the truth in court.

As far as I’m concerned I’ve been an ideal ex. I stay away. I don’t contact him unless it’s absolutely necessary. I do not and have not ever harassed him or the whore by phone, text, email, or in person. I’ve never asked him for a dime above what he’s been ordered to pay, and quite honestly, those times when he wasn’t paying and should have been I didn’t say a word. I figure out what needs to be done and then I do it. Usually it’s through some sort of court order and then he gets really pissy but that’s neither here nor there.

I’ll say it one last time. Stay away. Stay off social media. When you feed the beast it continues to grow. It feels good in the moment but it’s giving them power. They still matter! Or, in other cases, you continue to be the big, bad hinderance to true love. What’s that they say? Never argue with a fool. He will drag you down to his level and beat you with experience. Never wrestle with a pig. You both get dirty and the pig likes it. Continuing to beat yourself up by looking at the part of their lives they’re willing to put on Facebook is like wrestling with a pig and arguing with an idiot. It does no good. It will never help you. It’s all designed, in fact, to hurt you. You can’t confront them or you look like the crazy person and they come off looking like the poor, stalked victims. Focus on your own life. Take it from someone who did something really stupid and paid the price in self-doubt. Keep being the best badass you can be and, as Chump Lady would say, trust that they suck!

More Crazy Talk

We are almost done. This is Part 4. Playing catch up? Here are parts 1, 2, and 3.

I think the thing that kills me more than anything is the stupid memes I find on her page. I’ve said before, for a whore she’s very philosophical. I’ve never seen a person post as much drivel as she does. I try to roll my eyes and move along but I’m afraid my eyes are going to get stuck in the back of my head because of the unending bullshit that she posts in her quest to be enlightened and tolerant.

She is a huge fan of a group on Facebook that offers up all sorts of inspirational memes and concentrates very much on being a better person and finding your soul mate. That’s kind of funny actually. She’s a horrible person. She fucked a married man. She was sending “inappropriate” pictures to a neighbor while she fucked my husband. She continued to sleep with her estranged husband while sharing a bank account and my fucking marital funds with my husband. She’s so focused on finding true love, her other half, and her soul mate and being connected by the universe and threads of time and waiting patiently for her win and yada yada yada that she never stops to ask herself, “Hey, do you really think you should be poaching someone else’s spouse? Is that really the path to enlightenment? Is that helping you to be your best self?” You want some inspiration and philosophy, Harley? Here ya go:

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Naturally she doesn’t think like that. No, instead she goes with something like this:

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Interesting. This has me curious. Maybe that’s the point. Is she trying to insinuate that they never talk about me because I mean nothing to them? I find that hard to believe when I’m taking over half of his paycheck and they both seem so eager to hack into my Facebook page. I’m not the one hacking into their social media! I’m also not tracking down her ex-husband to get dirt on her. Nor am I sending nasty text messages or constantly fucking with them.

Isn’t that also a fantastic way to get your detractors to shut up? By spreading the narrative that talking about them and their antics means you care about them they force you to be quiet lest people think they matter a great deal.

I have a different philosophy. I think evil should be named. I think it should be brought out into the light so everyone can see the ugliness. It festers and oozes when it hides in the warm, damp darkness.

I think we can all safely conclude that she certainly doesn’t take the approach of not talking about her relationship with her cousin. Although it may “mean everything” she is not taking the quiet approach. Oh no! She is shouting it from the rooftops. “I stole my cousin away from his wife of twenty years and both his kids! He left them all for me and moved six hours away just to be close to me and my heathens!” Bravo, whore!

What’s next in Whore Philosophy 101?

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Nicely done, cunt face! Yes, please do encourage everyone not to look too closely at what happened. You can’t change the past or the fact you’re a whore who fucks other women’s husbands; so let’s just change the narrative from this point on. You’re not the cousin/mistress. You’re the cousin/wife. Forget the lies and the money and the cheating. This is your big chance to convince everyone that this is the epic love story that would not be thwarted. It was a love that could not be denied. It wasn’t some tawdry affair. It had meaning. We can all choose to concentrate on the wrongs that were done, or we can focus on the future. You might have been a cheating whore but that was ten minutes ago. Now you can start all over; you can change the ending and no one will call you a whore again. Even if you are one ‘cause leopards don’t change their spots. Whore.

Cute little side note? Tammy Faye commented on this one: Amen! It’s almost like she was saying, “Yeah, you are a whore who fucked a married man and destroyed his kids’ lives but you make him happy. We’ll just pretend all that nasty stuff never happened and take it from here. I call mulligan!

My favorite one, though, was this:

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What the hell kind of mind fuck is that shit? What do cheaters have to be angry, enraged or insulted about? Are they pouting because their duped spouses aren’t buying the lies anymore? Has that sent them into a rage? Are they enraged because people aren’t thinking highly of them anymore? Are they insulted because people call them what they are? Doubtful. They don’t typically have shame or remorse.

Rise above the bullshit? What bullshit is she rising above? She’s got me calling her a whore although never to her face. She’s got a son she’s disowned basically. I’m not sure how The Saint views her nowadays. At one point he said she was just plain mean. Maybe it hurts her to not have his adoring support and she considers that bullshit.

You want to rise above the bullshit? Try losing just about everything, bitch. Try being forced out of your home. Try starting all over… By. Yourself. And with no money because you trusted your spouse and you stayed home with the kids while he climbed the career ladder. Oh wait, that’s what you did to your husband, too. Both of you using us so that you could get further and then deciding years later that we no longer served your purposes so we were discarded.

I’ve been doing nothing except rising for the last three years. I’ve pulled up roots yet again, moved hundreds of miles yet again, kept it together for the sake of my kids, worked two jobs to support those kids when the love of your life was declining to pay support, put one foot in front of the other, and kept going.

What kind of bullshit did you need to rise against? Did you lose your home? Were you forced to move out of the state? Did your kids lose their father to another woman and her kids? Did you have to suddenly go back to work after a fifteen plus year absence and try to support your kids with no help from The Saint? Were you left wondering what was so wrong with you that your husband chose another woman over you? Did you listen in stunned bemusement at all the lies your ex told about you in his efforts to turn himself, the cheater, into a victim? No, no you didn’t, you fucking cunt. That’s what you helped do to me. You decimated my life and then want to turn around and act like you’re magnanimous. And philosophical. And so much bigger than the rest of us.

Flick your light back on and shine it brighter than ever? Seriously? Why don’t I shove a flashlight up your ass and that way when you open your pie hole to spit out this drivel you can shine a light on your nonsense? Once again, whores are so philosophical and so misunderstood. Let’s help them shine a light onto their greatness. God knows we wouldn’t want them to shrink back into the darkness.

I think the last line is my favorite though: Fall so deeply in love with your own life that anyone who tried to wrong you becomes a laughable, ridiculous, distant memory.

Brilliant! She will not be kept down. No one will shame her.  Does anyone have any doubt that the whore loves her life? She’s got everything she’s ever wanted and has suffered no consequences. Why would she not love her life? She does not need that advice. She needs advice that centers on being humble and kind!

And who has tried to wrong her? She is the one going out and wronging others. She wronged me. She wronged my children. She’s wronged her own son. She wronged her husband.

This idea that any of us should somehow become a distant, laughable, ridiculous memory is insane. She is the one who needs to fade into the darkness.

She likes to turn it around so that she’s the enlightened victim, refusing to let the haters get her down. The reality is she’s the one doing all the victimizing.

This advice isn’t actually bad. Believe me, I am doing my best to fall deeply in love with my new life, the one foisted upon me by the whore and my philandering husband. I would love nothing more than for her and her ilk to disappear and be nothing more than a laughable, distant memory. The problem lies in the fact that cheaters like her take this crap and use it for their own nefarious purposes. The people who really need this advice are people like me, the mobster, and any of you who have been duped by your partner.

With that in mind I’m going to offer this piece of advice to Harley: Take your insipid, not-needed-self-esteem boosting memes and shove ‘em the same place I’d like to shove that flashlight!

 

The Doubts

Welcome to Part 3 on my series of the folly of pain shopping. You can read Part 1 and/or part 2 if you are so inclined.

I do not want him back. He is a pox upon humanity. I am madly in love with the mobster and I am happier than I have ever been. Still…. I look at that shit on her Facebook and I wonder…

Was he right and we just weren’t good together? Is Harley better suited for him because she doesn’t mind sitting at home all day long? Will their love of Kentucky basketball see them through every hardship? Is she just better than me in his eyes, because he certainly didn’t want any part of the family life with me and our kids? I couldn’t get him out of his damn bed. I couldn’t pry him away from the TV. We didn’t take trips together. He didn’t feel the need to be a supportive dad to his own kids. He never complimented me where everyone in the world could see it.

Was he right and I was a terrible wife? I never put photo frames around his picture and declared I loved my veteran. I thanked him every year but I didn’t post pictures and photo frames and declarations of love. Maybe she is just all around better than me. I envision her working her 40+ hours a week, bringing home a substantial paycheck and still having plenty of time to cook dinner, clean house and do laundry all while being supermom to her kids. At least three of them.

I work 40+ works hours a week and bring home less now than I did when I first started, thanks to taxes, a 401k, and crappy medical insurance for me and my two kids. My mom cooks and does laundry. I rarely see my kids- Rock Star is gone a huge chunk of the time and Picasso is off doing his own thing in his room. I did begin and end this divorce with two kids so I’ve got that going for me. I’ll put that one in the win column for me.

I see pictures of them with all their pets so I know I didn’t turn him off because I loved animals and had a house full.

I sometimes even see witty memes and I think to myself, “That’s pretty funny; too bad you’re a whore.”

Was he right and I just wasn’t “the one”? I wasn’t a good fit and she is. Is it that simple? Maybe they really are deliriously happy together. Maybe it’s the love affair of the century, Kentucky style.

Maybe I just wasn’t the right wife for him and she is. Did I fail him? Did he at one point think I had all the necessary traits he wanted/needed in a wife, but over the years he came to realize I did not?

That is the fear, isn’t it? It’s not that the two people who did this to you are evil, horrible, rotten people who should be strung up and shot; it’s that those two people who did this to you are so much better suited to one another. They compliment each other. They fit together. They make a better couple. They realized it and weren’t afraid to plunge ahead while you clung to the past with everything you had. It’s about being bested by a whore with no morals who may actually be the better partner because God knows he does things for her and her kids that he never bothered to do for me and mine.

Was I the starter wife? Did he learn from his mistakes with me? Did he finally realize that barricading himself in the bedroom and submerging himself in the television all by himself was not the path to a happy marriage so now he’ll do better? Is that why he’s willing to do all the things that I would have loved for him to do with all of us?

Did I somehow prevent him from living up to his potential? Was I too overbearing when it came to the kids? Is that why he was reluctant to come with us but is always ready and willing to help out with her kids and to act like one big happy family with them?

Would insisting on family dinners around the table have helped? What if I was a better housekeeper? Maybe he wouldn’t have minded being in the living room instead of shutting himself off in the bedroom. Maybe it really was me! If I had kept the house cleaner and cooked more he never would strayed. Okay, that’s a little over the top. But maybe if I had kept the house cleaner he wouldn’t have chosen to stay in his bedroom so much, or chosen to remain downstairs in the basement watching television while the kids and I stayed upstairs. I’ve said before I think that was when the breakdown began and we began living separate lives, so if I had been better at that one thing then I could have saved this and my kids would never know a life of poverty. Her little snapshots of life are all about family life and being together and doing things together. I keep coming back to: If I had been a better housekeeper maybe he wouldn’t have retreated, and all those pictures of cozy Sundays in front of a fire, or outings with children could be us.

He kept telling me I could watch whatever I wanted on TV. He didn’t need to have it on ESPN or History Channel. I never believed him though, and truthfully, didn’t want to spend hours upon hours holed up in the bedroom. It seems like she doesn’t mind and maybe if I had forced myself to do that then I would still be married.

Was I too easy going? Did that disappoint him? Did he want someone to push back? Did he want more fire? Did I make things too easy for him? Perhaps I should have taken a stand and demanded more from him. Maybe when I sighed and took on more and more of the tasks he saw it as a sign I didn’t see him worth fighting for.

Did I just flat-out disappoint him when it came to being his wife? Were there tons of things I didn’t do that a good wife should do and that Harley the Whore obviously does? I didn’t fawn over him. I didn’t call him out on Facebook all the time. I didn’t marvel over him. I didn’t bring him a cool drink while he mowed the yard. I didn’t want to snuggle in bed all day with him. I didn’t want to watch Mountain Men with him. I fell asleep on the couch even once he “allowed” me to come back and sleep in the bed. Maybe I really didn’t love him the way you should love your husband. Maybe he is now getting the love he deserves and he feels complete and happy. We all know I couldn’t make him happy, no matter how hard I tried. She appears to make him happy all the time. If you don’t believe me take a gander at her Facebook page. Everyone there will tell you how happy they both look!

Why? That is the overwhelming question that rushes through my brain as I looked at all that crap. Why was he willing to do all of this with her and her kids? He could celebrate birthdays with them, go to the zoo, take “family” vacations, go to cheer competitions, go to the hospital with her kid and fetch candy. Why can he be Dad of the Year to her kids when all he could do with ours was sit in the bedroom and watch TV? Why did we have to practically beg him to go anywhere with us? How is it that now he’s able to go away on couple’s vacations and spend time together outside of the safety of his bedroom in the evening? Why is he getting his teeth fixed? Why is he suddenly getting involved in veteran’s groups? Why is he wearing sandals with jeans? Was it something about me? Did I lack something that would have motivated him to do those things? Is she just better at getting him out of his shell? Did he give up because he thought I didn’t care?

The mobster thought this had really gotten into my head. Maybe it has but I think it’s natural to see things like that and wonder, “Why the hell couldn’t he (or she) have done all of that while we were married? Why did it take blowing up the original family for the ex to finally act the way I wish he (or she) had acted when he was with me?

I can tell you this: I will no longer be looking at her Facebook page. I do know they are masters at image management. I know that if her head was on fire she would not acknowledge it. She’d be saying, “I’m a little chilly; anyone got a sweater?” I know that ultimately it doesn’t matter what kind of a cook she is, or how promptly she does laundry, or if she keeps a cleaner house than I did because she is a woman who has no qualms about sleeping with another woman’s husband. She’s a woman who is willing to cheat on her husband. No matter what good things she may do to cover up the evil that lies within, she is an awful person with crappy character and no moral compass.

I know I don’t want him back and that life is so much nicer without him in it. It doesn’t matter if he goes out to dinner with her daughter or shows up to support her at cheer competitions. It doesn’t matter if he goes to Show and Tell with her son, or is there to hold his hand when he hurts himself. No matter what good deeds he may perform for her children he will always be an ass who abandoned his own kids, who refused to pay child support for them while he drained a 401k of $10,000, and who tried to get out of paying sufficient support for them during his court trial. He played games with child support once he got a job and calculated child support for his “beloved” daughter down to the last half hour for crying out loud. He’s also a man who has no qualms about sleeping with another man’s wife and is willing and able to cheat on his wife. Not only was he willing to cheat on me, but he was willing to lie to me, make a fool out of me, take money away from his kids and give to her and her kids, and then financially rape me. He has crappy character and no moral compass. I guess they really are ideally suited for one another. Thank God no more nice people will be subjected to their lying, cheating ways. They can both wonder what the other one is up to. I think they are probably both too pleased with themselves to ever even consider the idea that the same could be done to them.

Stay away, everyone! Nothing good comes from pain shopping. Nothing! They make you doubt yourself when you know you’re sane. They make you question yourself and your actions even when you know you did nothing wrong. They can convince you that they are living a life of carefree joy and that all of that could have been yours if you had simply danced prettier. They’ll make you wonder what you did wrong and you’ll find yourself comparing yourself to someone who is so far below you there can never be a comparison. Even when you are happy in your new life one look at the cheaters and their life on social media is enough to make you stumble off of that path of newfound happiness and bliss; they’ll take you down a twisted road of doubt and anger and jealousy.  They are master manipulators and you will never be able to compete with their highlight reel. So don’t do it! Stay far, far away!

 

The Highlight Reel

This is the second part in my five part series on the stupidity of pain shopping. You can read the first part here. Let me serve as a lesson to you! Don’t do it!

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I embarked on some “research”. First up was a new picture of her kids on vacation. It might have been Tennessee but it could have easily been somewhere else as well.

They looked like they were having fun. I don’t know if CF came along or if good ol’ Harley is finally learning the joys of life with him. In my mind he came along, because this is Life 2.0. He’s new and improved. He’s the doting husband and the beloved daddy, always ready for adventures with this new version of his family. Naturally, in my narrative he’s telling Harley how much he loves going on vacation and how I would never let him accompany us, how he missed out on so many of these adventures with his own children because of me.

Of course, I also notice the missing fourth child. I guess he wouldn’t play happy family or accept CF as his brand new daddy so he needed to be eradicated. Not even a mention of missing him.

I go back and forth between hoping he has a damn anxiety attack on the way back (or while there) that she needs to deal with and wondering if there was some magic formula I didn’t know existed that would have made him enjoy vacationing with his kids and me. Why does he do this with her and her kids when he would never do it with his own kids?

I see the pictures once again of the happy couple on their wedding day and honeymoon, I suppose. Everyone congratulating them and telling them how happy they are for them. I roll my eyes at the stupidity. It’s laughable. Two cheaters promising to love, honor and forsake all others. Yes, they’ve both got a real good grasp on how marriage is supposed to work.

I so badly want to comment and ask those people if they’re aware of the price her husband, her one son, my kids, and I all had to pay for their happiness. Do you think she’s entitled to happiness at my expense? At my kids’ expense?

I sleep on a couch. My daughter has spent two years basically with her head down just doing her damnedest to graduate and get the hell out of here, to start all over in college. My son, instead of hanging out with friends, stays locked in his room playing video games. We live on a busy street, not a neighborhood. There are no kids around he could hang out with.

But they’re happy and they deserve it because apparently I was a horrible, evil, mean person who tried to shit all over their happiness. No one cares what their happiness did to anybody else’s life.

She wants everyone to know that lazy days spent on the couch in front of the fire with her beloved are her favorite kind of Sunday. He’s got the remote in his hand so he hasn’t changed that much.

I see her incessantly calling him out, mentioning him, tagging him. “I love my veteran!”, “Waiting to watch the fight!” (from their home, on the couch, with him), and letting everyone know how they’re “getting their Halloween on”. Wow- you managed to get him to watch something other than Ice Road Truckers or Mountain Men? Congratulations! You didn’t get him out from under the television altogether but at least you’re watching together.

Again I wonder: Why not with me? Why can he suddenly do all these family and couple oriented things with her that he never could with me? Their life seems to be like a cozy, warm sweater. They carve pumpkins, sip hot apple cider, and watch Halloween movies together. I’m sure Christmas is now magical as well for him.

I see all their happy couple pictures and people cooing all over them. “Beautiful!” “Such a happy couple!” “So nice to finally see you happy!” My former in-laws are the worst offenders. And so incredibly stupid.

My late former mother-in-law shouts out to all on Facebook that, “That’s my baby boy and he’s going to make them my family, too!” Really? Aren’t they already your family? I could have sworn you told me that day you sat in my kitchen that you couldn’t cut her off because she was family. She might be a whore, but gosh darn it, Sam, she’s family, too! I see my evil ex sister-in-law gush that she loves them.

Funny side note: Maybe it’s a woman thing but I definitely noticed how Harley was always commenting on their pages once CF broke things off with her. She didn’t comment much at all before her affair with him but she was all over it once she got dumped. Imagine my surprise when I saw that she’s not falling all over herself to comment on every insipid post and each picture. Curious.

Always there are the obligatory compliments: You are so beautiful. Pretty. Great picture of you, whore.

I freely admit it has always been a sore spot that my former in-laws never missed a chance to tell her how wonderful she looked, while ignoring me.

I posted a new profile picture (obviously this was back when we were still married). Keep in mind I am not the type of person who changes profile pictures every week. That would be Harley. I think this was the first change in two years. Two years! On top of that I had just got my hair cut. I had kept my hair styled basically the same way for years! This was a major change and the most I got from any of them was, “That hairstyle looks nice on you.”

Maybe the former in-laws always thought I was very ugly and wondered what on earth their beloved prince was doing with such an unsuitable specimen. Maybe they like the Hillbilly Whore look. Who knows?

I do my best to shake my head and continue on.

I see all of the pictures of her adorable animals. Most of them purchased by my then-husband. Couldn’t give me money for a homecoming dress for his daughter but he could buy them new animals.

To inject just a brief moment of sanity in this I will note that I don’t see the pets she used to pose with. I wonder if she discarded them like she discarded her son and husband. Much like her new husband discarded his family and pets. Oh well, everything is replaceable, right?

I see her update on moving into their new home. That’s nice, bitch. I live with my mom. My kids don’t have a home of their own. It’s nice that thanks to my husband’s money (and he was my husband at this point in time) your kids are able to move into the nicest home they’ve ever lived in. It’s fantastic that things are going so swell for your kids. Well, except the one you abandoned.

Guess what? She later reveals she loves their new home. There’s so much for her kids to do! I’m so happy for them.

There’s the post about her youngest banging his head in the pool and needing stitches. Don’t worry, though, because New Daddy was on the job keeping him calm, happy, and stuffed with candy!

Awww… that’s so sweet. I’m glad he can act like a father for your kids. Too bad he’s done nothing for his own. To be fair he did manage to make a few ER trips with us (hey- my kid was a gymnast; she got hurt a lot!) but that pales in comparison to what he’s done to them the last 2 years. Maybe we should start calling her youngest, “Mulligan” since he seems to be CF’s do-over.

There were the pictures of the family outing to the zoo- two whole hours away to boot! I guess that PTSD must be in remission, huh? I suppose since he’s no longer trying to con me out of sufficient child and spousal support he can fully enjoy life as the asshole he is.

Oh, there it is! Yet another new profile picture of the whore so that everyone can compliment her and tell her how pretty she is. There’s CF chiming in, “Gorgeous!”  Really? I was married to that sonofabitch for twenty fucking years. Granted, he was not on Facebook long while we were married and most of the time I imagine he spent trying to fuck other women, but not once did he bother to compliment me.

It bothered me when I was married to him. It bothered me when we were wreck-onciling. He knew it bothered me. I told him it bothered me. His excuse? “I see you everyday! Why would I bother to comment on Facebook when I can tell you in person?”

That’s a good question. Why is he bothering to comment on Facebook when he could just go home and tell her?  Better question: If he really wants to let everyone know how special she is why doesn’t he tell her that she’s worth the thousands of dollars he has to pay out every month? I would think that would be a huge compliment! “Your pussy is so fantastic I don’t mind paying out thousands of dollars a month for it!” or maybe, “You were worth abandoning my children!” Hmmm… perhaps that does not convey the message they want to convey…

I see more pictures of the happy couple posing in front of scenery that does not resemble Kentucky. Maybe they travel a lot now. How convenient. It’s nice to know he spent twenty years wasting my life and making me do everything solo because he got such anxiety anytime he ventured outside of his house. I think the mobster is right and Harley very much is his seeing eye dog. With her by his side as his faithful companion he can go places he once only dreamed of.

One last new snapshot- one of her daughter and her two smiling sons. They’re all going out to celebrate her birthday. I think it’s wonderful that he can finally go out for birthday dinners once again. The last year he lived in the house, the last birthday each of my kids had before finding out that their family was going to be shattered and their lives torn apart, he was simply too upset and anxious to go out and celebrate. He stayed behind, probably texting the whore, while I took the two of them out. Who cares if he fucked over his own kids, right? The important part is that he’s doing right by her kids.

Once again I see the picture of CF with Mulligan at Show and Tell. It was Veteran’s Day. This year she improved upon the picture with a cutesy frame that told everyone who cared to listen that she loved her veteran. The year before though it was simply about how pleased Mulligan was that New Daddy/Cousin Daddy (Caddy?) could be there.

You know what I thought about? I thought about the time he snapped at Picasso because he wanted his dad to drop him off at school. Good ol’ Daddy was anxious and didn’t know how to navigate the carpool lane. The man can fight a fucking war and blow shit up, but a line of cars whipping through the horseshoe drive in front of the school just wipes him out.

I thought about the time he got pissy with me because I needed him to run to Target and grab a gift out of the dollar bin and bring it back up to the school for Rock Star so she could participate in her classroom Christmas party. As always, shooting people and blowing shit up is easy; a quick trip to Target is life threatening. He will probably need psychological counseling for the rest of his life because of it.

Once again I see them posing the day of her daughter’s cheerleading competition- him posing in a t-shirt with her high school name and mascot on it. Both of them gushing about how important it was to be there for her. “He must love her so much to wear that t-shirt!” “Oh, it was painful to put that Cardinals t-shirt on but I wanted to support her.”

He never saw his daughter cheer or compete as a cheerleader one single time. He never went to a single high school gymnastics meet. At the time he was saying this he had moved out of the state without saying a word to either of his kids and he hadn’t seen them in over eighteen months. Yes, it was so important that he support the daughter of the whore he’s fucking.

And always there are the comments. Comments from people I used to call family. Comments from people who still try to act like they care about me and my kids while they support that fucking whore and her kids. Comments from people who used to be family shouting out how happy they are with the jolly new couple, how much they love them, how much they love Everything. About. Them. They are so proud and this is their family. Tammy Faye cooing over the newest grandchildren. She loves them so much! Doesn’t seem to give a shit about her actual grandchildren but the whore’s kids? She was on that shit quick!

As tempting as it may be, don’t do it! Don’t pain shop. Maintain no contact (and that includes social media). You may think you can handle it, that it will be no big deal, but feelings will come. I promise you this. Even if the majority of those feelings are rage and anger it is still a lot to deal with. It can still mess with your head. Even knowing they are masters at image management, even knowing that truly happy people don’t have to make a huge show of their relationship every day and every hour on social media, even knowing he is the problem and she is a whore, it can still make you doubt yourself.

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!

One Month Before D-Day

July 2015

My victories:

  1.   I stayed at the in-law’s house without my husband.  I am slowly healing that relationship.  I’ve even considered becoming FB friends with her.  Not quite ready to take that step but I’ve been mulling it.
  2. There is a song out there, not sure of the title.  I think it’s “I really really really like you” by Carly Rae Jepson (?).  When I first heard it it was a huge trigger!  That’s the justification Zack gave for continuing his relationship with Harley. Anyway, it’s quite catchy and the last few times I’ve heard it I’ve been singing along and bopping my head to it instead of allowing it to bring back bad memories.
  3. I’m not currently counting down any anti-verseries.  Not dwelling on what was going on at this time 2 years ago.  Trying not to get distracted with any of the holidays.  Also hoping that August 14th will come and go like any other ordinary day.  And I’m really hoping that I don’t have a meltdown on my anniversary this year.
  4. As previously stated I’ve deleted most of my infidelity blogs and I don’t tend to read them every day as I used to.
  5. I did go check out the whore last night and downloaded some new pictures that other people had posted.  But ordinarily I don’t go looking for her on FB and I haven’t been checking to see how she and my in-laws are interacting.
  6. I have no desire to check Zack’s phone or his email.  I figure that he’s smart enough to keep it hidden pretty well and as I said before I can’t control him.  If he’s determined to cheat he will.  If he really thinks she’s the love of his life, his soul mate, there’s nothing I can do about it if I haven’t convinced him otherwise after almost 2 years.
  7. So many of the things that pissed me off earlier this year make sense now and I can accept.  The whole concept of gratitude specifically.  I’ve been making an effort to try to look on the bright side of things and I can understand what the authors were trying to say before.  But like everything else with adultery (with anything really) you have to be ready to hear that message.
  8. I just feel at peace.  I’m not worried about Zack and Harley.  I’m not full of hate and anger.  There are certain people (his nephew and Jezebel) I’m still not too happy with but I don’t dwell on it.  I rarely think about them.  I have put it out of my mind.  Every now and then something will come up but I usually solve that by telling myself, “Nope.  You’re not going to think about that now.”

Present Day Sam Says:  Hey, Sam, guess what?  He’s cheating on you!  He’s fucking a whore and sending her money while he lies about it!  Keep spackling, sweetie!  I’m glad you’ve made such great progress; I think it’s swell that you are finally to the point where you are over what he did to you.  Unfortunately, it’s too late because he’s doing it all over again.  Sorry!

Turning the Corner While the STBX Chooses Door #2

June 2015

Welcome to the Summer Solstice!  Longest day of the year.  I took the girls to the mall today and dropped them off to let them shop.  I went to see Spy with a friend and her husband and then we picked the girls back up and my friend and I lounged on the patio and in the kiddie pool, drinking the rest of the wine we had opened up last night…

In other news I remember reading that it generally takes 18-24 months to fully recover from an affair.  I have come to believe that’s pretty much spot on.  I also think that’s IF you recover.  The last few weeks I have been in a much better place.  I really have no desire to read the infidelity blogs I used to follow.  I don’t have much of a desire to see if Harley has posted a new picture or if she and my in-laws are conversing. I mean, it’s not totally gone but it’s not an overwhelming need either. I say this despite the fact I just checked up on her a day or so ago.  Who knows?  I may never stop checking up on her.  But she keeps her page private so I can’t really see anything.  She did post a picture of a vet with PTSD who has a sign asking for advance notice of fireworks going off near the 4th of July.  Maybe she’s just very civic minded and it has absolutely nothing to do with Zack.  Maybe she knows I still stalk her and she does it to get a rise out of me.  Or hell, maybe they are still fucking around.  I can’t control it though so I don’t dwell on it.  I can’t imagine that he would be willing to spend $53,000 on a pool only to have to put the house up for sale when we divorce.

I think I have been doing a great job of not dwelling on dates or what was going on at this time 2 years ago.  Sure, 2 years ago I posed for a picture with Zack and the kids and posted a Happy Father’s Day message only days after being told he didn’t know if he loved me anymore and while he was declaring his love for his whore.  But, this is 2015, not 2013.  As Elsa would sing, “Let it go!”  And so I am.  You will not defeat me, you whore!

I don’t even think much about Jezebel and all the crappy things she has done. I try not to think about the fact that my in-laws gush and fawn over the whore.  I’m simply trying my best to be Zen and accept that which I cannot change….

OK, I’ve got to get up in the morning so I’d better go.

Present Day Sam Says:  Joke’s on me! While I’m finally turning the corner, accepting what was done, trying hard to move on and “focus on the future” he was hot and heavy with a whore.  Turns out he WAS willing to throw money into a giant pit in our backyard.  The entire time that pool was being built he was messing around with Harley, sending her money even and buying her and her kid iPhones and then taking on the cell phone bill.

And again I’m so busy being open minded and Zen that my brain should have tumbled out of my head.

As if that wasn’t sad enough I was having a really good time at this point. I was back in XX state and having a wonderful time seeing my friends again. It felt so good to visit our favorite restaurants, to be part of something, to be busy and active and vibrant once again. I’m feeling better and he’s plotting to leave me for a whore.

 

More Signs From the Universe That I Conveniently Ignored

May 2015

The whore’s newest picture (picture removed for now). Longer and darker.  Looks like I’ll continue to go short and blonde. I have to say I have been very surprised that my in-laws have not commented on or liked the picture.  Perhaps letting my MIL know she was sending naked pictures to Zack had something to do with that.

In other news it appears she’s now friends with Zack’s niece.  Oh, I just love seeing her gush over the new baby.  So, so glad we’re so entwined.  Even better I love the fact that Zack and I are sending money to pay her rent for 2 months while the whore does nothing.  If you love them so much why don’t you put your money where your mouth is and actually do something, Harley?

I am never going to get away from her, am I?  She’s everywhere.  My MIL thinks she can sympathize with what I’m going through because of what she went through, but the OW in her case didn’t hang around her family.  That’s the huge difference.  I’ve got everyone that we see when we go to Kentucky thinking she’s just the greatest thing ever.  People come into my home and then turn around and compliment that bitch.  And here’s the thing.  If they really think she’s that great and that what she did wasn’t that bad, then how can any of them say they’re rooting for me and Zack?  If she’s that wonderful, if they love her and think she’s fantastic, isn’t that just basically saying, “You know, Sam, we wouldn’t really be all that upset if Zack dumped you for Harley because we just love her so much.  She’s fantastic.  So losing you wouldn’t be a problem because we would gain our beloved Harley.”

Yes, I know I could bury my head in the sand and pretend she doesn’t exist. But you know my policy on that.  Just because I can’t see it doesn’t mean it’s not happening.  I mean, if someone let a snake loose in my house even if I couldn’t see it I still wouldn’t feel comfortable until it was caught and removed.  I would never feel comfortable.  I’d always be wondering if I opened a cabinet or stepped down onto the floor if the snake would be there.  That’s just a fact.  I’d be a nervous wreck.  Blocking her on FB is like having an unseen snake roaming my house.  I’d rather know.  I’d rather see what was going on and be prepared.

In my defense, I do not stalk her page often.  I do sometimes wonder if it were someone different, someone everyone on Zack’s side of the family didn’t communicate with, if I wouldn’t stalk her page at all.  I kinda think I wouldn’t. I would have no need to.

The way I see it, Zack and I as a couple are fine.  I don’t think about her much in terms of what she almost did to our marriage.  Yes, I am still haunted a bit by the whole:  I know I don’t want to lose my kids and him telling Jezebel that Harley made him happy.  It bothers me because he does seem so miserable now and didn’t back then. Oh, logically I know it all has to do with the whole fantasy vs. reality thing.  She was new and exciting and promising to fulfill his every need.  It was all fantasy and no reality so she was the perfect woman, doing everything that needed to be done.  I get that.  It still bugs me at times.  Probably because he never sees the need to point that out to his sister when he talks to her and she talks to him and tells him how miserable he is.

And I can sometimes rationalize the FB thing by telling myself it’s no big deal; it doesn’t mean anything.  I’ve got “friends” that I rarely communicate with on FB. I have also been known to accept a friend request from someone I don’t know all that well. So, perhaps that is what has happened here with his niece.  It still bugs me, though.  I’m tired of seeing her wherever I look.  Funny how this becomes my cross to bear when I’m not the one who cheated!

Present Day Sam Says: Oh yeah, I think they were definitely fooling around at this point. He always said he loved my hair when it was longer and darker. I remember this picture of the whore. Someone commented on her weight loss, too. Another sign of an affair. Sign #3? Friending CF’s niece on Facebook. This was Pastor Fake’s granddaughter. Absolutely no reason for Harley to have any contact with her. In fact, she hadn’t up until this point.

I truly believe Harley is one of the most manipulative, fake phony people out there. She and Jezebel will get along wonderfully.

Oh, and this part?  <<<… here’s the thing.  If they really think she’s that great and that what she did wasn’t that bad, then how can any of them say they’re rooting for me and Zack?  If she’s that wonderful, if they love her and think she’s fantastic, isn’t that just basically saying, “You know, Sam, we wouldn’t really be all that upset if Zack dumped you for Harley because we just love her so much.  She’s fantastic.  So losing you wouldn’t be a problem because we would gain our beloved Harley.”>>> That was absolutely dead on accurate.

You cannot continue to interact with the whore and honestly say you are rooting for reconciliation between the married couple. They obviously didn’t think that what she, or he, had done was that bad and they obviously were rooting for the two of them to get together.

Trying To Make Sense of the Nonsense

 

March 2015

Let’s see them hack into this!  There is more than one way to skin a cat. At this point I switched over to journaling on my computer.

I’ve been thinking.  A lot.  Mainly about Jezebel and her comment, my favorite, about how he deserves so much better than me.  About my husband’s comment to his other sister, how it’s been 2 years and why can’t we just move on? About that sister and her snide message to me about me worrying about the house and then turning around and booking airline tickets. About being grateful.  About accepting reality.  About moving on. About pain shopping, which dovetails nicely with moving on.

OK, we’ll tackle moving on first.  It’s very difficult to move on when your husband doesn’t do the few basic things you’ve asked for in order to reconcile.  I told him that 1. He needed to send Harley a text and end things with her.  I wanted to see the text to prove that he actually sent it, and he was to have absolutely no contact with her after that. 2. He was to give up all passwords to me and remove the passcode from his phone. 3. We were going to attend marital counseling. 4. He was to never discuss our marital issues with Jezebel again.  What did he do?

Well, instead of sending her a text and ending it, he says he called her and ended it.  That’s nice, but that’s not what I wanted.  I had a purpose behind wanting you to send a text.  I wanted to see it in black and white.  I wanted to see him write:  My wife knows about you.  She gave me an ultimatum.  I choose her.  We’re done.  Don’t contact me ever again.  Did I get that?  No, I got the replay of his supposed phone call to her. And then I got her text which makes it look like he actually chose her and she ended it.  Furthermore, his response to her was based on not wanting to hurt her.  He felt bad for her.  Her- the mistress of 3 1/2 months.  Not me, the wife of almost 19 years.  I got a reply about honor and duty and obligation.  Not love.  Not choice.  Am I supposed to believe him without proof when I vividly recall asking him if she was worth losing his wife and kids, and he replied he knew he didn’t want to lose his kids?  Am I supposed to believe him when he would have sex with me and then turn around and walk out our door and text her good morning and then precede to talk to her on his entire 30 minute drive to work every.fucking.morning?  That is some strong faith, and if I’m not there yet so be it.  I figure I mainly believe him.  I only have doubts some of the time.  It’s been 2 years?  Nah, not really.  We’re coming up on 2 years of your half hearted confession where you couldn’t even admit you were doing something wrong, or that she was your whore.  You tried to make it sound like she was one of many and it was just a little texting.  No, it wasn’t.  It was her, and only her.  And you were telling her you loved her and you were telling other people you loved her and she made you happy and you were going to marry her. On top of that, you two were talking about sex and what all you were going to do to each other, and you were talking about a future together and she was sending you naked pictures.  It’s been 2 years since you tried to confess and pull the wool over my eyes at the same time.  It hasn’t been 2 years since I discovered the truth.  We’re at about 18 months for that.  18 months since I found out the extent of your lies and betrayal.  18 months since you told me you didn’t want to lose your kids.  18 months since you told me you hadn’t been happy in years.  18 months since you admitted that you two talked about sex, and how much you loved each other, and how much you wanted to be together.  18 months since you told me you two really really liked each other. 18 months since I received The Saint’s FB message asking me if I had gotten a good lawyer yet.  And we’re at 16 months since I discovered you bragging to your nephew about marrying her, after insisting to me that you two had no concrete plans.

So that’s part of the not able to move forward movement.  I don’t know.  I don’t know what their plans were.  I don’t know what all they talked about.  I don’t know how far into the planning it got. I don’t know that I was his first choice. I have no proof of that. Again, for all I know he called her up right after he got off the phone with me and told her I knew and I’d issued an ultimatum.  And then he told her she was his soul mate, his one true love, his very best friend, and the love of his life and there was no way he could give her up.  For all I know he told her, “I choose you, Harley!”  And Harley, being the manipulative, deceitful cunt that she is warned him that if I got wind of his choice that I’d probably run.  Maybe she even reminded him that I already had airplane tickets to fly to my home state in 2 days.  “If you want to keep your kids around, then you need to make sure she thinks you chose her.”  And then the good little whore proceeded to tell her husband she was leaving.  And her husband said, “Fine, but you’re not taking the kids.  They’re all disgusted with their whore of a mother.”  That’s when Harley finally realized she and my husband weren’t going to be forming their own version of the Brady Bunch, that there might be bumps in the way, and that the path to true love was not going to be a smooth one.  Maybe her kids gave her a ration of shit.  Maybe the two oldest told her they weren’t going to live with her.  It was at this point she decides it’s just not going to be worth it and that’s when she sends her bleeding heart text to Zack.

Is that really all that crazy?  Why is that version any less believable than the one he told me about?  At least in the second version I have her text ending it. It would be lovely if, instead, I had a text from him ending it.

What else did he do?  Well, he did in fact give me his passwords and take the code off his phone.  And to his credit he did recently offer to have my thumb print be one of the prints that could open his phone.

Marriage counseling?  He went but he didn’t really participate, and our counselor told us that is was pretty much a waste of time after 3 or 4 sessions. If we ever went again I think it would be interesting to hear his side of everything that happened.  It seemed to be mainly me talking because he didn’t much participate. I’ll give him credit for going when he didn’t want to, but I’m not giving him credit for anything else.  He didn’t participate and I don’t think we got much out of it. At this point in time I’m tired and I’m not willing to go again so I guess he’s safe.

And not discussing our marriage difficulties with Jezebel?  We both know that one went completely off the rails.  He performs a fucking Shakespearean soliloquy when he’s telling everyone all my faults and everything I’m doing to him, and I get a fucking one line reprieve when he pulls his head out of his ass.  I know that’s not a kind way to put it, but it pisses me off. And upon looking up how to spell soliloquy that’s not really the best description.  That’s what I perform on a daily basis when I’m raging!

That brings me to another point- the concept of the man in the middle. There is a poster on a board I like to read and she often says that many times you can look to the man in the middle as the source of conflict.  I’ve thought about that a lot and I believe it’s true, even with this.  He throws me under the bus to Jezebel, goes on and on and on about how horrible I am, and then says, “Oh, my bad!”  Is it any wonder she hates me?  He doesn’t tell her the good stuff.  He’s too busy getting his head patted when he’s the poor, oppressed little brother married to the evil, awful wife who uses him as a handyman and a paycheck. Man in the middle.  Have no doubt, I’m still not pleased with her encouraging him to leave me when he was fucking around.  And I’m definitely not pleased with her latest round. But he poured gasoline on the fire, and he did something I told him not to do ever again.

His mom and stepdad are another case in point.  I told him in therapy I didn’t like how Pastor Fake was gushing over Harley’s picture.  It was hurtful.  His attitude was, “I can’t control what he does.”  Then shortly thereafter his mom gets online and tells her she’s sooooooo pretty.  I unfriend them (they were sharing an account at the time) and probably blocked them at the time.  Undoubtedly unfriended them from my daughter as well, and blocked them.  I know she must have asked about it but instead of coming to me and saying, “Hey, what happened?  My mom says she’s blocked on both your and our daughter’s page,” he acts like he can’t control anything.  I keep thinking that if he had only pulled his mom aside in the beginning and said something along the lines of, “I know I created this mess, but if the two of you want to have a relationship with my wife and kids you’re going to have to distance yourself from my mistress.  It is upsetting to my wife to see the two of you acting all chummy with the woman I cheated on her with.  We both know we can’t control you and you can both do exactly as you want.  But I’m here to tell you that there is no way you can have Harley in your lives and have my wife and kids in your lives.  So you’re going to need to make a choice.”  Or even a much shorter, condensed version:  My wife can see you two gushing all over Harley, joking with her, telling her how pretty she is. You know that I cheated on her with Harley; therefore, she has no desire to associate with anyone that wants to be a part of Harley’s life.  It’s that plain and simple. You can have a relationship with my wife, or one with my mistress but you can’t do both. (Believe me, I tried! ba-dum!!!).

I think that’s part of not being able to move on, as well. I think I have made tremendous progress in accepting the fact that his parents will never turn their backs on Harley.  They will always be kind to her.  They will always compliment her.  She will always be around.  And I, in many ways, am forced to accept that. I’m forced to accept the fact that I will never be around for any family events because I don’t know if the whore will be there or not, and I don’t want to be there if she is.  I’m forced to accept (and I know this is morbid) that when his mom dies I’m going to be going through 3 levels of hell.  I’m going to have to deal with Zack and his grief, I’m going to have to deal with his bitch of a sister, and more than likely, his whore will show up. It’s very difficult to move on and forget about her when she is front and center all the time, or at least it feels like that.  She was praying for my husband last month.  Praying for him!  She has a front seat into the window of our lives.  Anything my in-laws post on FB about us, about my kids, that bitch can see. How do you move on from that? How do you move on from your in-laws thinking that your husband’s whore is a swell person?  I keep expecting her to show up at Thanksgiving and for them to offer up the use of their bedroom so he can fuck her.

I read about pain shopping yet again yesterday.  It’s not so much that I want to do that, it’s more I don’t want to be ambushed.  I guess when you don’t feel safe or confident you continue to look over your shoulder.  I don’t know that I was his first choice.  Hell, I don’t even know for certain that he’s not back in contact with her again.  I don’t know that someone won’t throw facts at me, facts of which I have been completely unaware of for over a year, which might result in my own downward spiral. I don’t look on her page that often.  I check every now and then to see if she’s got a new profile picture up.  I occasionally check my in-laws’ pages to see if she’s commenting or liking certain things.  Of course she is!  Good ol’ Harley can’t fade into the background. Oh no!  Look at me!  Look at me!

I know I’ve said it before and I will say it again.  Not knowing the bitch is being welcomed with open arms by all who know about her and Zack doesn’t mean it isn’t happening.  And closing my eyes and pretending like as long as I don’t see it everything is ok, is just living in a fairytale.  It does no one any good.  Eventually, you wake up and you discover the truth and you feel betrayed.  I’d just as soon get it out of the way.

I guess what it boils down to is can I accept what happened?  Sure.  I can accept it.  Doesn’t mean I like it.  Just like accepting who my in-laws are.  It hurts me very much knowing they can embrace the woman that almost tore my life apart.  But, I accept that that is who they are. When I am with them I enjoy being with them and I love them.  However, I will never have a close relationship with them again.  I simply cannot do that, not when they are still in contact with Harley and act like she has done nothing wrong. I will never be willing to go out of my way for them again. I don’t call.  I don’t confide.  I let Zack handle it. Honestly, I prefer to keep my distance because I’m afraid I’ll be sucked in if I get too close.

Can I accept the fact that I’ve been moved 2000 miles across the country to live in this Godforsaken town where I know almost no one?  Sure.  It’s reality.  I can pretend I don’t live here but what good would that do? I can pretend that we can go back to our former state but I know that we can’t.  Whose job is he going to take?  Especially when they just got a new GM and a new PM less than a year ago.  Where will we live?  Are we going to ask the new residents of our home to kindly move out because we’d like our house back?  No. If I’m being perfectly logical most newcomers to the area head over to two up and coming areas.  Our kids wouldn’t be going to school with their old friends; they’d be at a new school.  My daughter could go back to her old gym but she would be competing as a Level 8 once again, more than likely, and all of her former teammates would be 9s.  My son could play hockey again but he’s lost a year and he already started late so he’d be behind as well.  No, we are stuck here, at least for 7 years until they both have graduated from high school.  Then my husband can yank me away from my new life, and at the rate I’m going now that won’t be a bad thing. I’m so tired of hearing, “You need to get out there and meet people!  Volunteer! Take classes!”  Um, I’d love to meet people but that’s a little difficult when you’re 46 and not in school and don’t have a job. There are no classes to take. Quite honestly, I’m sick and tired of being the new person.  And volunteering?  Where would you suggest I volunteer?  The PTA?  They don’t seem to have many opportunities.  I’m supposed to go tonight for an after prom meeting where I will know no one and the woman in charge is going to ask me to solicit donations, which is something I absolutely hate to do. HATE IT! This gets me thinking that if everything PTA does needs to be funded with business donations I want no part in it. Oh, I also found out that I was sent an email to see if I wanted to volunteer at the book fair for the middle school.  It went to my junk mail and I didn’t get it until after the book fair was over. Lovely. I could go to a PTA meeting but again, I’m tired of putting myself out there.  I’m tired of being the new person.  I’m 46, for crying out loud!  My life should be settled.  I shouldn’t be scurrying around trying to find a whole new set of friends.

I tell myself to think back on all of our other moves.  OB was easy.  I had just turned 29 when we made the move. We went out with all of his co-workers.  And from that I became friends with some locals and they introduced us to other people. In the next state I started out by participating in an online group.  I got very lucky and those people met weekly.  I put myself out there and I joined their group. Gradually, other people joined in as well. Then, right before my daughter turned 2 I started going to church; when my son was an infant I volunteered to help in the nursery. A few months later I became a team leader in the nursery.  Gradually I did more. I became a small group leader.  I joined the meal team. I think when my son was around a year I joined MOPS.  I became part of the hospitality team with them.  I started a MOPS group at our church. I was there 6 years and it was gradual, but my calendar filled in.  Plus, it helped that I had family only 2 hours away. I think I found my online friends within the first 6-8 months. I was 31 when we moved back to State #2, just under 2 months before my 31st birthday. We moved a few months before I turned 38. In State #4 I think it began after I volunteered to join PTA.  It was about 5-6 months later.  The following year my daughter was competing so I made some friends that way. PTA just became a huge thing for me.  I met a ton of people that way.  And I met some people through my kids.  This time it just doesn’t seem as easy. I was 45 this time when I left. I’ve been here coming up on 8 months.  They have been the longest, loneliest 8 months of my life, I think. I don’t have online friends.  I don’t have a church. I don’t have PTA; it’s pretty much non-existent.  I certainly don’t have MOPS. My daughter competes alone most of the time. This next meet all of the girls meet together.  But here’s the thing:  most of the girls are young, like 10-11.  Their moms are young.  I don’t want to hang out with them.  I don’t need to be overrun with 30 somethings while I’m nearing death. I do have some parents I can sit with at the high school meets.  That’s nice.  But that’s it.  I know a few people on sight.  I’m still shocked when I run into someone I know at the grocery store because it happens so infrequently. I am grateful for the outpouring of support from the few people I do know when Zack was in the hospital.  Our neighbor called and offered to help with whatever we may need.  S offered to take my daughter to gymnastics.  C prayed for us and checked in on us, offering to run errands or bring a meal.  D took my daughter to gymnastics and grabbed food for both of my kids.  I felt very fortunate to have that help and those offers.

So, this is my reality.  I’m far from family.  I’m far from friends.  I’m not fitting in or finding a niche.  I really really hate it here.  I’ve booked tickets for me and Rock Star to go see the state gymnastics meet back in our former state at the end of the month.  I’m looking forward to that.  Can’t wait to be around friends again. Can’t wait to see all those cute little gymnasts that I get to cheer on for the first time this year.  I’ve missed this.

I’ll save Jezebel’s asinine comment about him deserving something better for later.

It’s Veterans Day

November 11th. Veterans Day. I have to keep reminding self that just because Cousinfucker is a lying, cheating sonofabitch, that doesn’t mean every veteran is. I have to keep that in mind so that I don’t paint every service member with the same broad brush. I have plenty of people in my family who have served and they are not all assholes.

Regardless, this day has always been filled with lots of drama. I’ll never forget the year that he came home, pouting, because I had not wished him a Happy Veterans Day. From that point forward I always made it a priority to recognize this day and reminded the kids to thank him as well. So hey, if you or one of your minions is reading this: Happy Veterans Day to all those who have honorably served! To those veterans who are cheating on their spouses, abandoning their kids, refusing to pay child and/or spousal support, abusing their spouses, or plotting their murders, you are a disgrace to the military. I don’t wish you a happy anything. I fart in your general direction. It is truly sad that so many good men and women have given their lives while you continue to walk this earth. May God have mercy on your souls because I sure as hell won’t. You make me sick.

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In other news, I took the advice of those of you who said to screenshot his photos on Facebook. Actually, I made my mother do it because I can’t stand to look at him. I found out some interesting stuff, though.

  1. He lists his status as “in a relationship” with Harley the Whore.
  2. He’s got pictures of him posing with her youngest son. Nice!
  3. Harley the Whore has changed her name! And she’s going by her maiden name now so I guess her divorce is final.
  4. There are 2 dogs in the picture now. Good to know he can’t afford to pay child support, any of the marital debt, or to keep up the lawn but he can buy two fucking dogs. Not to mention the dogs he simply abandoned.
  5. This was the most interesting. He put up some meme about 100 days. We were trying to figure out what on earth that might mean. 100 days since he had paid child support? 100 days since he had abandoned his kids? 100 days since he began living with a whore? Hmmmm…. so my mom read the comments and we are both thinking that it is 100 days since he has stopped drinking. Interesting. Especially because the point at which he quit drinking (if that’s what it is) corresponds to roughly the time he resigned from his job.

 

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That’s all I’ve got for you today. Keep your chins up and “soldier” on!