Bless Their Hearts

You all know I love me some TikTok. For whatever reason I was getting a lot of trad wives content on my For You page. For those of you not in the know trad wives are those women who are traditional stay at home moms or wives.

On the opposite side of this phenomenon are the women in their 40s and later who learned the hard way what happens when you’re a trad wife and your husband decides he no longer wants you. These women are not telling these trad wives not to do it. They’re not telling them, “He’s going to leave you. You’ll end up divorced and homeless. Guaranteed.” No, they are cautioning people against relying on another person for your financial security. They are explaining what can happen if something goes wrong- he leaves, he dies, he becomes disabled. More importantly, they are not speaking so much to the trad wife content creator because that person is not really a traditional wife; she’s making money. She’s got a safety net. They are talking to the people who are watching all of this and thinking it sounds like a fantastic idea. But the trad wives are having none of it.

I have gone through every scenario and there is no way my husband would leave me high and dry if something happened with us. You know your spouse.

Oh, you are precious! My sweet summer child, if that man ever decides he’s done with you and he moves on to a newer model you won’t know that man. I never thought my West Point educated, high earning husband would ever not pay what the courts ordered him to pay. I never thought this man who said, and whose family always said, the only thing he ever wanted was a family of his own, would abandon that family. I never thought he would walk away from his two children. I would go so far as to say none of us thought our husbands would do what they did. We all thought we knew our spouse. Until we realized this person we had been married to for years and years was a total stranger now that he no longer valued us.

I got a degree and work experience before I got married and had a child.

Same girl; same. Unfortunately, what you will find out should your husband ever cheat on you and leave after fifteen or twenty years of marriage, is that your experience and skills are outdated when you attempt to return to the workforce. No one gives a shit that you have a degree or what you did ten years ago. Your unbridled confidence and audacious optimism is endearing; however, it is no match for our tarnished reality.

Someone once told me you can never get divorced because you are a sahm. I was like, “Look, what’s his is mine. I get half of everything. I’m wealthy, too.”

Aren’t you cute as a button? I know; I know. That is the lie they tell us. And sure, I suppose you are entitled to half of everything. But those of us who have actually gone through a divorce can tell you, if you’d bother to listen, that there is a difference between what should happen and what does happen.

Talk to the thousands of women who have suddenly had all funds cut off. Unless they’ve got family willing to help it’s going to be tough to hire a lawyer to fight for what is theirs. Talk to the women who have had utilities shut off, credit cards and car payments not paid, bank accounts and retirements drained in preparation for the divorce. Talk to the women who didn’t have the money to hire a forensic accountant to trace all the funds her husband spent on his affair partner, or who hid hundreds of thousands of dollars.

Oh, I know. He would never do that. After all you know your spouse. So let’s say you’re right. You know him. He gives you half. It won’t be enough to maintain your lifestyle. You’ll get half of whatever is in the bank accounts, retirement funds, investments. You’ll get half of the proceeds of the house (if he doesn’t let it fall into foreclosure). Then what? He’s still off making six figures and you’re starting all over making $15, $20 an hour. How long do you think those assets are going to last when you go from living on $200,000 down to $40,000 or $50,000?

That’s not even taking into consideration the number of women who give up fighting for her half because he makes it so difficult on her. She’s emotionally drained and she just wants it over. Or he’s willing to give her full custody in exchange for no alimony or taking less of his 401k.

You finally divorce, take your half, and you end up living in a much smaller house in a less desirable neighborhood because your income has decreased drastically. Meanwhile, his life hasn’t skipped a beat because he’s the one with a thriving career and a huge paycheck.

Don’t get me started on the lost wages and the lost retirement money they don’t have because they stayed at home to raise children, based on the false promise that he would always take care of her.

Trust me, Button, half is not going to be enough.

Motherhood is the most important career there is! Keep it up!

Perhaps. Sadly, the pay does not reflect the importance. There are no retirement benefits, no sick time, no vacation time. It’s a volunteer position with no salary offered. If you go back after years tending to children you’ve lost hundreds of thousands in lost wages and retirement. I think it’s the only “most important career there is!” that leaves its employees vulnerable to financial abuse and completely dependent upon another person.

I literally have a BS in finance.

You are adorable. Let me know how that works for you in ten years when you want to go back (or have to go back to support your family) and everyone is telling you you have no relevant experience. Or you are suddenly facing ageism in the workforce.

Actually no, it’s called, “I’m entitled to half our savings/401k and assets and alimony and child support.” Find something else to bitch about.

Oh my! We have a spicy one. Let me introduce you to something called, “Alimony is only awarded to 6-7% of women.” Or another thing called, “Most states don’t have alimony.” Or, this is my favorite. It’s the one called, “Less than 50% of people who are supposed to receive child support actually receive it in full each month.”

See previous paragraphs about this idea you’ll get half of everything and continue to live your fairy tale life.

I sleep like a baby next to a man who is wildly in love with me and would move heaven and earth for our family. If you’re looking for women to rattle, look somewhere else.

Bless your heart. I hope you wrote those words on cake so that if you ever are in the unfortunate position of needing to eat them they are sweet going down.

For starters, we are clearly happier than you because we don’t view marriage as a battle where someone has the “upper hand”.

Having a backup plan if things don’t go as planned is seen as needing the upper hand? Not wanting to be completely financially dependent on someone else is seen as needing the upper hand? Is blindly trusting someone with your life now the standard for an equal partnership?

No one is saying to get the upper hand. They are simply saying, “Protect yourself!” Make sure you have a way to support yourself and your kids if something should go wrong.

I’d be interested to see the number of marriages that last- a sahm vs. a working mom. I could see a sahm being able to put more into her marriage?

My marriage has improved 10 fold since becoming a SAHM, was the response.

SAHM’s do have a lower divorce rate. Instead of attributing that to much happier marriages though it is possible they simply can’t afford to leave. You see it time and time again on infidelity support boards. He’s cheating but she’s a stay at home mom with 3 little kids. Or she home schools the kids. Where’s she going to go? How’s she going to support her kids? How will they fare in public school? Does she want to work her ass off for a quarter of the money she’s living on now, put her kids in daycare, and split their time/holidays with her ex? Or will she look the other way and pretend it didn’t happen? Will she stuff it all deep down inside so she can justify staying to herself? Countless women have said they haven’t left because they don’t have the funds.

Judge Judy once said to always make your own money because once you are dependent on a mate it’s over. There is no longer an equality. She goes on to say that you don’t necessarily have to use your craft/career but you need to be prepared to use it. If you are not prepared then you’re stuck. That is the point at which you have to accept lifestyles that are unpleasant because you are financially stuck. So find something you’re good at and that will help you earn a living.

Don’t let those stats fool you. Women who can take care of themselves file for divorce because they can.

I went to school with really rich kids. I know two moms who were married to lawyers. One worked at a store in the mall for as long as I remember after her divorce. The other left his wife when the kids were adults and gave the oldest son the house that she was in. She lives in a small apartment now.

Oh no! How horrific! Any woman who loves their kids would trade living in a small apartment (the horror) or working at the mall to take care of their own babies instead of having a stranger raise them at daycare, was the response.

Talk about missing the entire point. As a woman who loves her kids, who stayed at home with them and was dumped after 20 years of marriage I can say with my whole chest, “Fuck you, bitch!”

As if the standard for loving your children is to be willing to live in poverty. As if the standard for loving your children is to have all joy sucked from your life after years and years of dedication to another person. No! Just no.

I love my kids. I loved being able to stay home with them. I loved being able to easily travel to all of the gymnastics meets, being able to take them to practices and games/meets, being able to spend the summers going to amusement parks and water parks and lakes and everything else I did to fill the time. I will also be the first person to admit that staying at home with them was the biggest mistake of my life.

I was completely financially dependent upon my ex-husband. Everything I had I had because of him. Yes, my sacrifices made it easier for him but it was his paycheck that paid for our 4000 square foot home, our pool, our vacations, our kids’ extracurricular activities. When he left, and more specifically once he lost his job and was no longer sending the court ordered support, I lost everything. We lost everything.

Those women that the commenter mentioned, one working a retail job and the other living in a small apartment, dedicated years of their lives to their husbands and children. In the end they are living a life of struggle and poverty. No one should be expected to live like that to prove their love for their children. Had they had a career of their own, had they focused on themselves instead of others, perhaps they wouldn’t be living like this. Instead they put all of their trust into a man; their financial security hinged upon this man continuing to want to fuck her. Once their husbands were no longer invested in them those women lost their financial security.

Just left a six figure salary to be a SAHM. No more 401k but I know my kids are loved and safe! My husband relies on me to manage finances!

You ladies are just cuter than a bug in a rug. My husband relied upon me to manage the finances, too! When he started wiring his mistress money every two weeks or so he just lied and told me it was for his mom. How was I going to tell him he couldn’t do that when it was his paycheck? When he bought his mistress and her daughter new iPhones he lied again and told me it was for his mom and his stepdad. He took money out of savings, where I wouldn’t have even looked and noticed. He opened a joint bank account with Harley and I was none the wiser until her husband told me about it. He cashed in his remaining stocks and had it wired to the new joint bank account. He let his mistress go wild with approximately $32,000 over the course of five months. Managing the finances means nothing. I suppose it’s better than not having a clue about what’s coming in or going out, but in the end they can get around that if they choose.

Yes! My husband may earn the majority of the money but I do 100% of the budgeting, and my name is on our bank account and everything of value we own.

Same girl! And in the end it didn’t matter. What mattered is that he had a job and I didn’t. What mattered is that once he finally went back to work after his 10 month sabbatical he went right back to making 6 figures and whatever amount he lost his AP turned wife was able to make up for. I didn’t have a six figure job to turn to. I made around $20,000 that first year I worked at the bank. I supplemented what I made there by getting up at 3:30 in the morning and going to work from 4-7am before I took off for the bank. Because I worked two jobs I think my income showed around $33,000. Because he had a job his life didn’t change much. He moved into a nice big house with Harley and I moved in with my mom. I didn’t have a bedroom for the first two years. Having a job matters. Hopefully whatever it is that she does for six figures is something she can easily return to should she either want to or need to.

Same! I just left my job to enjoy my kids. My husband wouldn’t know how to run the house without me.

Oh, honey! Don’t worry. He wouldn’t leave unless he had your replacement lined up. He wouldn’t need to know how to run the house. He’d leave it all to your replacement.

Seriously? Do these women really think this protects them? He doesn’t know where anything goes in the kitchen so he’d never leave. Hee hee hee. Honey, that won’t stop them.

And yet another one: He would be LOST without my budgeting/shopping/etc. “What if he leaves?” And??? What if??? He’ll go broke because he can’t pay a bill on time. And he’s lost without my childcare.

Again, he’s not going to be lost. He’s going to have your replacement on standby and she’s going to do all of those things that you do now. She’ll pay the bills. She’ll budget and shop and take care of the kids when it’s his time to have them. If he doesn’t straight up abandon them. You ladies certainly overestimate your usefulness.

I used to fix my husband’s plate every night. I washed and folded his clothes and then I put them away for him. I paid the bills. I took care of his kids. I took care of him. I ran him to the hospital when he got sick. I made his therapy appointments. I made his doctor’s appointments. I usually went with him to those appointments. I was his crutch when he was overwhelmed. I stepped in and took charge when he was falling apart. In the end, despite all of those things I did, he found someone else willing to do them. I was left without my high earning husband or a job of my own.

They’re just mad that they cant be one. Keep being amazing girl!

No, you idiot. They were one. They paid the price for doing it. They are trying to warn others. It is not jealousy. It’s sisterhood.

If you were at the beach and you noticed a dorsal fin would you warn someone going out into the surf? “Hey! There’s a shark out there. I just saw it!” Or would you let them go on out and hope for the best? I think most of us would warn the person. That’s what they’re trying to do. “Look, I got royally screwed because I didn’t think to protect myself. Make sure you don’t make the same mistake. Have a backup plan.”

We’ve been together for 13 years. That man ain’t going no where unless I leave him.

This calls for another, “Bless your heart.” I guess she must not know many people who got divorced after 13 years of marriage. I was married 20 years myself. Perhaps she should come on over to a divorce/infidelity support board and see the number of people who speak of divorcing after 15, 20, 25, or even 30 years or more. 13 is not a magical number. I’m pretty sure late in life divorces is the fastest growing segment right now.

Alas, there is hope. Behold the following:

One of the most successful PR moves of the patriarchy is convincing us that the warnings and insights of older women is just “bitterness”.

A second person chimes in:

This comment is gold. Somehow the patriarchy finds a way to diminish women in all stages of life. Too old, too young, too emotional, etc. Taking advice from women who are ahead of us is one of the most powerful resources we have. Ignoring older women’s guidance means missing out on crucial perspectives and leadership that we so desperately need as a society.

Good luck, trad wives. May the odds be ever in your favor. And if you find out that they might be shifting perhaps you can find an older, wiser trad wife who can guide you.

Stop Feeding Your Kids Shit Sundaes, Part 3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What Was the Biggest Lie?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you still in contact with her?”

“No!”

“She blocked me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

An Open Letter to Cousinfucker, Part 1

January 2016

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

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

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

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

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

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

To be continued…

 

2015 Wrap Up

December 2015

Apparently my dumbass didn’t go to work yesterday either.  Now I’m beginning to wonder if he brought the whore up to our current state with him for these four days and he’s leaving the car with her.  I don’t know why he would since she doesn’t know her way around.  Kind of bizarre to think she’d drive him to work and then take the car on home.  It’s tempting to have someone go ring the doorbell and see if he answers the door or if she does.  Anyway….

I’ve decided to do my 2015 wrap up today instead of waiting until tomorrow.

As you might imagine 2015 has SUCKED!  I am seriously wracking my brain to think of a year that has sucked more than this one.  I think my senior year of high school might be a close second but that actually occurred over two years.  And I was a hell of a lot younger and able to absorb the blows.

So let’s start at the beginning.  2015 began with my loving husband starting his downward spiral.  Lots of drinking.  Lots of crying.  Lots of “PTSD” symptoms.  Thank you, American Sniper.  You gave him a narrative.  He ended up hospitalized towards the end of the month due to some sort of a bug.  That was the infamous, “She was making fun of me when I was DYING!” episode, despite the fact that I had never done any such thing and had instead sat by his side and kissed his ass as usual.  Apparently I didn’t grovel well enough.

The following month he ramped up the crazy, with lots of texts to his manipulative sister and probably his jackass “best friend”, frequent visits from the pastor of a church we had attended ONE time, still much drinking and crying, and then SURPRISE!!!! let’s add in a visit to the psych ward after suicidal ideations.  I got to spend HOURS in an empty ER room with him (because they remove EVERYTHING from the room when a person is suicidal) while trying to coordinate care of my two kids who were at school at this time.  Then I would drive to the hospital every day for the two hours of visitation that were allowed each day.  I brought him magazines and books and gum; I advocated for him.  I called him each day.  MY family all came to visit while his family (with the exception of one sister) all called him from the comfort of their own homes.  Incidentally, his family all live a minimum of 4 hours closer to us than my family does.  My mother drove 13 hours to come see him- at his request!  Why?  Because my family was more of a family to him than his own.  Of course it was, asshole; that’s why when Harley reappeared you turned to your own morally bankrupt family.

He came home and there weren’t many changes made.  He continued to hang out upstairs in the bedroom.  Refused to hang out with us in any of the main areas of the house.  Hell, I can recall asking him if he wanted to sit out on the enclosed porch with me and he shook his head, telling me he felt more comfortable upstairs in the bedroom.

March and April there was more of the same.  The migraines started back up again in late March/early April.  That’s a fun 2 week period where he’s basically bed ridden with a succession of migraines.  I’m taking him to the doctor’s for medication, trying to keep everything quiet and calm for him so he can sleep.  Once those are finally done he continues to have breakdowns.  Like, need to leave the restaurant, crying in public, breakdowns.  All of which his kids think he faked for sympathy and to justify why he did what he ended up doing.

His best friend showed up in April.  I think this is probably the time my dear, traitorous MIL encouraged Harley to call and offer him a blow job.  Oh, I’m sorry- encouraged her to call him to “cheer him up” since he was “so sad”.

My own state of mind at this time was not good.  I was still trying to adjust to this move.  I cried a lot.  Hell, I even taped messages for my friends and family to be played for them after my body was found.  THAT’S how desperate I was at that point.  I even said I thought he was messing around with her again.  Of course, the money didn’t start disappearing until June but that doesn’t mean that it didn’t begin up again sooner.  It may have taken him a few weeks before he decided to support his whore.  I was beginning to give up on just about everything.  I had written I was done with decorating and I was going to cancel the pool.

But I persevered, something Cousinfucker couldn’t do.  I signed the contract; I kept decorating.  I continued to deal with all the shit he shoveled my way, putting up with his moods, his anxiety, his breakdowns.  I made his damn appointments for him and went along with him.  I STILL found instances of him throwing me under the bus and it would infuriate me.  Accusing me of only staying for the money.  Of never checking on him.  Of hating him.  Of me leaving him alone to cry in the bedroom.  Poor, poor sad sausage.  Get your story out there, baby.  Let everyone know how mistreated and abused you are.

May passed with construction on the pool finally beginning.  Probably one of the few bright spots in the year.  That’s also the month he brought up purchasing phones for his “mom and stepdad”.  So generous of him.

Most of June the kids and I were gone visiting family and friends.  He was definitely fucking around with Harley then.  And lying to my face about what he was doing. He opted out of celebrating Rock Star’s birthday with her because “he didn’t want to ruin it for her”.  Yeah, right.  June was a fairly decent month for me, though.  I was happy to see family and watch as Queen B graduated and be able to celebrate that with her.  I was happy to get back to my former state and see all of our friends, go to some of our favorite places like the reservoir and the varied restaurants we no longer got to frequent.  I stayed in pretty constant contact with my philandering asshole.  I sent text messages.  I occasionally called.  I would send pictures if I went shopping and was going to buy something.  Oh, he was so complimentary.  Telling me I looked so good, so sexy.  He’s such a liar.

We got back home right before July.  Again, he opted out of the birthday dinner for Picasso.  Nice.  I seem to recall a lot of sex, or at least messing around, before he decided he just didn’t think he could ever get it up again and he didn’t want me to try because he didn’t want confirmation of it.  Nicely done, Asshole!  I’m still not sure Harley was on board with you messing around with me twice a day, though.

Of course, he declined to go on our family vacation with us.  Too stressful.  And then he drove to his “business meeting” after being coached by me and his therapist (fucking asshole- him, not the therapist) and onward to his home state where he definitely hooked up with Harley and fucked the whore.  When we got back from Florida and he got back from Kentucky he had plainly changed.  I didn’t know what the hell was going on.  Then there was the added bonus that he suddenly began making trips, spreading his wings.  There was the funeral he refused to take his daughter to.  His trip to visit “Blockhead”.  All lies.  All continued while he spent the summer funneling thousands of dollars to that whore.

Finally, August arrives.  The pool is completed.  Six days later I’m told my husband is fucking Harley.  My world imploded.

I’ve spent the rest of the year taking care of my two kids, putting together evidence for my lawyer, being the responsible one while he acts like he’s single and child free.  I get the fun part of worrying about what the hell I’m going to do for money, what I’m going to do for insurance and how I’m going to afford it.  I get to worry about selling the house and fixing it up.  I get to worry about what I’m going to do with our 3 dogs and 3 cats.  I’m the one that gets to worry about trying to relocate and keep Rock Star where she is and then move once she graduates.  Basically, I get all the responsibilities and he gets to walk away and pretend like we never existed.  He gets a fresh start with no obligations, only a shiny little whore spreading her legs wide with four whining kids, blandly worshiping him so that he’ll buy them things.

I’m eager to put 2015 behind me but I fear 2016 won’t be much better.  My lawyer tells me he doesn’t think we’ll be done with the divorce until September or October, so most of the year will be spent trying to untangle our lives while not getting fucked up the ass by him.  He pulled the wool over my lawyer’s eyes this go round.  While he will be charged rent if he continues to live at the house it’s nothing compared to what he would have to pay once he’s out on his own.  $750 flat.  It’s doubtful he would be able to find that on his own.  My family is taking bets on whether or not he will move out.  My mom thinks he’s going to amp up his efforts to try to find a job closer to Harley.  My lawyer had damn well better be accurate when he says he will have already established a level of income once this order goes into action.  I would hate to see him quit his job before he gets this year’s bonus and then he gets out of paying me.  Wouldn’t put it past him though.

You know, it gets tricky, though, because Harley is expecting a certain standard of living.  If he quits his job and takes something that pays less that won’t bode well for his relationship with her.  Same thing with going to jail.  That will put a damper on the relationship.

Present Day Sam Says: Yeah, 2016 was no picnic either. I started off okay. Then I found out in February that CF quit his job and moved in with the whore. I still find it amazing that he drove 2 hours each way to work. I rebounded. And then got knocked down yet again when he texted me to let me know he had lost his job and wouldn’t be sending me anymore money. We were faced with the choice of trying to stay put and probably being evicted midway through Rock Star’s junior year, or biting the bullet and moving right then. I sold off whatever I could and left behind most of my possessions and moved 600 miles away, in with my mom.  I ran out of money.  I began working at Target, going in at 4 in the morning. A month later I got a second job at Kohl’s because my first job didn’t pay enough. I cried pretty much every day. My life was nothing more than working, sleeping and trying to get my kids where they needed to be. No joy. No hope.

The holidays sucked. Worst holiday season ever. I had to go in at midnight on Friday after Thanksgiving. I went in at 3 or 4 (probably 3) on Christmas Eve. Christmas Day was my first day off in 21 days.

My kids were forced to start all over. My son took to life in Indiana right away- had a great group of friends, liked his school (at least at first), liked living with his Nana. My daughter hated it here; I’m pretty sure she still does. The one bright spot in her life for months was her job. Gradually she spread her wings- first by getting on the winter cheer team, and then going out for track and loving it.

The one bright spot for me that year was getting hired on full time at the bank. It wasn’t going to pay me much but it was a full time job finally. I wouldn’t start until 2017 but I still counted it as one good thing that happened to me in 2016.

Now it’s almost 2 years later and things are a lot different. You’ll have to wait until later in the month before I finish my wrap up for 2017.

 

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

 

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

September 2015

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

More Truths Are Revealed

August 2015

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

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

The $172 Tire Charged in Whore Town

July 2015

Why can’t I have a relaxing vacation?  No stress?  No freak outs?  We had donuts for breakfast and headed to the beach for a few hours.  Had lunch at one of Mom’s favorite restaurants.  I texted Zack this morning to see if he was already on the road.  Nope, the mechanics supposedly couldn’t get the machine working so he’s staying an extra day.  Then he’s heading onto his home state.  Sound familiar?  I’m going to go see my mom.  Of course you are!  So I suck that up and tell him I’m fine with it; she’s his mom and of course it’s all fine.  Next, because we’re going to go shopping I check our account balance.  First, he sent another $50 to his mom.  It’s not enough that he sent $500 2 days ago.  Nope, need to send another $50.  Oh, and I did ask him what emergency had befallen them this month.  They didn’t ask for it.  He just knows they’re struggling and he doesn’t think his niece and her boyfriend are going to make it and he seems like a good kid and she’s pregnant and what can he do?  He can’t watch his mom struggle. So, there goes another $50 and on top of that I see a charge for $172 at Walmart in fucking Whore Town, His Home State!  What.the.fuck? I flat out asked him, “What did you spend $172 on in Whore Town, Your Home State?”  He tells me it must be tires for his mom. “Are you in your home state already?”  He says no.  He gave her the credit card information because she said there was something wrong with the new van they got.  He doesn’t know why it showed as Whore Town because it was supposed to be in another town.  And he’ll get the rest replaced when he’s there on Saturday.  Excellent! So you’ve sent $550 in the last 2 fucking days and then you’re going to turn around and spend God only knows how much on 4 new tires.  And I’m sure he’ll buy other shit as well while he’s there.  If he’s not already there.  I find that to be way too convenient. For all I know Harley has left her husband and is encountering money problems and he spent the damn money on her.  And I hate feeling like that. Will I ever trust him when it comes to things like this?  A year ago he was adoring me.  I felt like he was truly gaga over me.  Now I’m not so sure and I sometimes wonder if I did it to myself with the FB page.  His other sister told me he was so excited about the move and felt it would be a fresh start.  Then Blockhead told him about the page and how I didn’t know if I could celebrate another anniversary, how tough our anniversary is for me, how I didn’t love the gift and all those other great things.  Then he went into a tailspin and things just haven’t been the same.  I am beginning to wonder if this is the beginning of the end.  I don’t want it to be but I’m not sure I can stop it either.

So, I retaliated with some revenge shopping.  Bought Picasso a couple of shirts and a pair of tennis shoes.  I bought myself a new Coach purse even though I just got a Kate Spade a few days ago.  Bought one for Rock Star, too, because every 15 year old girl needs a freaking Coach purse.  And wallet.  It’s a little strappy thing so she can use it as a stand alone purse, too.  Plus we both got some new clothes. Hey, if we can feed every fucking member of his family then I’ll buy whatever I want for myself and my kids.  If we can afford over $800 in the last few days to give his mom then the sky’s the limit!  And you know, it amazes me that no one ever says, “Zack, no!  You’ve got a family to feed.  You’ve already given us $500.  We’ll be fine. We can buy our own tires.”  No, once again it’s an unlimited ATM.  He could give them $500 every week and they’d still come back and want more.  As my mom pointed out:  Wasn’t it enough when they basically stole all his money while he was fighting over in Iraq?  Wasn’t it enough when he gave her a credit card in his name which almost cost us our house in OB?  Nope!  It’s never enough. I’m about at the point where I’m ready to suggest he just hand over his entire check to them.  Or maybe he could ask them for all their bills and we can cover them and then all the money coming into them they can use to splurge on.  I guess I’ll go back to Whoreville and get a job so I can afford to do things for my kids since all of our disposable income is going back to his home state.  Hey, how much a month is the whore coughing up for them?  Nothing?  Wow- shocker! By the time this weekend is finished we will have contributed $2000 in just under 2 months.  And he wants to pay their cell phone bill.  Hell, why not?  We’re made of money.

Maybe it’s a non-issue and he’s planning on leaving me.  Maybe he’s already in his home state fucking Harley.  I really don’t know.  That’s the worst part.  My instincts failed me so miserably 2 years ago and now I’m hyper vigilant.  Why would anyone be at the Walmart in Whore Town?  Why?

Present Day Sam Says: Oh, Sam, sweetie. Why would anyone be at the Walmart in Whore Town?  Because he’s in his home state fucking the whore.  Your instincts weren’t failing you; you just didn’t want to believe.

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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!