A Conversation With Rock Star

“Mom, do YOU think he’s crazy?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Is My New Lawyer Psychic?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Welcome to the Jungle, Part 3

Note:  This is the third part of the story.  Here is Part 1, and here is Part 2.  As always, I am as truthful as the information given to me.  Some information is thanks to Google, some due to her husband, and some I have directly experienced.

Harley’s bio will be brief.  She’s been arrested at least 3 times according to my Google search- once for writing bad checks, once for failure to appear, and the third arrest is a mystery.  I have no idea why she was in that time.  Her husband has pretty much accused her of being an alcoholic and says she has a savior complex.  She is going to be getting her money’s worth with Cousinfucker.  Her husband also said she was sending “inappropriate pictures” to the neighbor this past summer.  This neighbor was quite perturbed when she began a full fledged affair with my husband but they are now once again “friends”.  I wouldn’t be surprised to find out she’s sending him “inappropriate” pictures once again. Oh yes, and she is, according to her husband, still having sex with him.  Isn’t she just the cutest thing ever?

Harley’s most favorite thing to do besides screw married men, is to block people on Facebook. She blocked me the first time around when Cousinfucker came back from Jezebel’s wedding.  He told her about the pictures I had around the house.  She told him she thought that was strange and then promptly blocked me.  After DDay I remember telling CF that blocking me was a stupid move because it put her on my radar.  Gradually I came to realize that was exactly the purpose.  I believe she blocked me hoping to incite a divorce.  I think she figured once she blocked me I would realize they were still involved and I would either be so livid I would throw him out, or I would confront him and demand that he choose between us and he would, of course, choose her.

This last time she set her sights on my daughter.  Rock Star (my new name for my daughter) laid into her dad because of Harley’s insipid message on Facebook about missing him.  He defended the whore and Rock Star ended up sending him a screenshot of her rambling.  He must have said something to the whore because she ultimately ended up blocking my child so that she could no longer see what was being written and “tattle” to her dad.

Looking back on their first affair and her subsequent actions I believe Harley is a manipulative, deceptive, gold digging whore.  As Rock Star says about her Facebook page:  It’s like she wants a Twitter account but doesn’t know how to operate it.  Rock Star has actually said she sometimes felt like she was reading a high school mean girl’s Facebook page back in those days before the whore blocked her.  I did a little research and found out that she didn’t start communicating in earnest with any of Zack’s family until after he dumped her the first time.  After that she couldn’t comment on pages enough.  She was everybody’s friend and she was always front and center.  And now, since the exhumation of this great romance, she has added on pretty much all the family members on Cousinfucker’s father’s side of the family. Let’s add attention whore to her resume, shall we?  My favorite part, though, was finding out from Tammy Faye that Harley had called her and checked on her several times after Zack dumped her the first time.  What a brazen bitch!

Here are some more priceless gems from Harley: The first time she and Zack were involved she kept leaving her phone out so that it would be found by her husband.  Now, I don’t know that she intentionally, or even subconsciously, left it out, but how stupid do you have to be to get caught TWICE?  Once again, I think she was hoping her husband would do her dirty work.  The second time she was discovered (again, still the first time they were involved) Zack asked her what she was going to do since her husband (I shall call him The Saint) knew they were involved again.  Harley’s loving response:  I’m not going to do anything.  I don’t care if he knows.

Much like Zack lied to her about his marriage and how awful and evil I am Harley has lied to him about The Saint.  Now, keep in mind this is a story Zack shared with me when we were “reconciling”.  She apparently told him that The Saint, a stay at home dad for over ten years, had put her into bankruptcy three times. I would bet money this came about when Zack was whining about how I spent all of his money.  When DDay #2 came along and The Saint was willing to talk to me I asked him point blank if that was true. Was poor, little Harley working 60-80 hours a week, working her poor whorish little fingers to the bone while that big bad Saint recklessly spent her money?  Turns out, according to him, they filed bankruptcy once- because a business they started up failed.  I again, point blank, asked him, “So you weren’t out there spending all her money, putting her in the poorhouse?”  He laughed and told me Harley didn’t even know what a budget was and that she and their daughter spent money like it was water.  I guess that explains the arrest for writing bad checks!  And why she was so eager to get down on her knees and suck her cousin’s dick.  She’s going to make all of her and her kids’ dreams come true, one blow job at a time, all the while managing to stay out of jail!

 

Does Anything Make Me Mighty?

Chump Lady asked on Friday, “What Makes You Mighty?”  It is supposed to be a feel good exercise, a positive post.  You can list anything that makes you feel good, right down to the fact that you got out of bed and made breakfast for your kids despite wanting to hide in bed for weeks on end.  Usually this post would make me feel good.  It’s inspiring to see what everyone else is accomplishing post divorce.  People talk about getting great jobs, buying their own homes, taking vacations with their kids, taking up new hobbies.  It’s fun to read and it usually inspires me.  This time, though, it just depressed me.  I don’t know why.

I was all set to participate.  My minor achievement was replacing the belt on the vacuum cleaner.  That was always something I handed over to Cousinfucker.  I wasn’t sure what I was going to do when he was no longer around.  Honestly, I thought about getting rid of my vacuum cleaner!  But I did it.  That was several months ago.  I don’t feel like I’ve had anymore achievements.

I can’t buy him out of this house even if I wanted to and because of the way he spectacularly screwed us by moving us away and buying a new, more expensive house less than a year before he began his affair I’m not going to see any profits from the sale of this house. So…. I won’t be buying a new home.  In fact, the plan right now is to move back in with my mother after my daughter graduates.  I get to sell off all my brand new furniture, all my new decorations, all my Christmas stuff, my dishes, my sheets and towels, pretty much everything and move back home.  I’ll have my clothes.  Maybe my books.  Electronics.  Photo albums.  That’s my life!  Living at home with my mother, my kids not having a home of their own.  Meanwhile, I’m sure Cousinfucker is going to take his precious VA loan and buy his whore a brand new house and move her and her four kids into it.  They’ll be living better than they’ve ever lived in their lives.

I’ve spent my children’s entire lives operating as a single parent for the most part.  Cousinfucker performed 2 tasks- he would pick up our daughter from gymnastics when our son had hockey, and he would help with math homework.  While it was nice not having to leave the ice rink to go pick her up I could, and did, do it myself whenever CF was out of town.  When her state meet was the same day as his hockey tournament and the events were almost an hour apart I made arrangements on my own to get them both where they needed to be.  I can definitely manage.  Being able to handle my kids on my own is not a new achievement; it’s something I’ve done as long as I’ve had kids.  Taking my kids on vacation without CF is also not a new phenomenon.  I’ve driven 1500-2000 miles across the country without him many times, stopping along the way to break up the trip for my kids.  Again, not an achievement.  At least not a new one.

New job?  Fantastic pay raise?  Living better than him?  Nope.  I’m in a Catch-22.  If I get a job his spousal support is lowered.  I’m not doing him any favors!  I am planning on leaving this area as soon as my daughter graduates.  I don’t want to be in a position where I absolutely have to work the minute I move in with my mom.  Additionally, I have spent so much time catering to everyone else I have no idea what I’d like to do.  I don’t think I want to be a nurse even though that seems to be a popular “return to school” degree, and I’m not sure I really want to go back to school and spend more money for a degree I won’t end up using.  My mother thinks I should become an accountant. Honestly, I don’t have money to go back to school right now even if I *did* know what I want to do with my life.  Plus, I really don’t want to shake up my kids’ lives anymore than they have been.  I mean, we’ve moved them across the country, taken them away from their old lives, then they learn their father is a lying, cheating sonofabitch who is essentially abandoning them, and now they need to miss out on even more because Mommy has to go to work because Daddy won’t do a damn thing for them!  I have an outdated, never used college degree and as I’ve said before I’ve been out of the work force for 17 years now.  I am sure my prospects are bright.

As for hobbies and lots of new friends, well, I can’t afford any new hobbies and I live in BFE so my chances of meeting many new people are pretty fucking slim.  Plus, I just don’t have the energy to put on a happy face.  I was invited to a Super Bowl party today.  I was all excited to go even, and then… I wasn’t.  So I decided to stay at home.  It’s awkward enough to be in a large group when you don’t know anyone except the hosts. And it’s one thing to be surrounded by couples when you know both parties.  But when you’re being asked to meet a bunch of new people AND you’re the only one there that’s not part of a couple? No thank you.  I was definitely not up for it today.

I know this is another depressing post and I apologize.  I’m sure it will get better.  I’m just feeling sorry for myself right now.  I do that every now and then and then I get my head out of my ass and tackle the problems head on.

Things I Worry About Today

Yesterday was a melancholy day for some reason.  I thought maybe writing out some of my worries might help to alleviate them.  Worst case scenario I can look back in a year or two and laugh.  “Oh, Sam, can you believe you ever worried about *that*?”

I worry about what I’m going to do when we’re finally divorced.  I’ll have no insurance.  No prescription coverage.  No dental.  No vision.  I’m a relatively healthy person but it would be just my luck that when I have no insurance I would be suddenly hit with a catastrophic accident or illness.

I worry about the house and what’s going to happen there.  On the one hand I know I don’t want to stay here for the long term.  I’m hoping for another 2 1/2 years.  By the time we are finally divorced it will be less than 2 years I’ll need a place to stay around here.  I don’t want to be left trying to sell the house on my own.  Quite frankly I think if we end up taking a loss he should be responsible for 100% of it seeing as how it was his own bone-headed, erection-driven decisions that led to us selling 2-3 years after buying it.  I also know I absolutely cannot refinance the house in my name alone, and even if we did a quit claim (?) I’m back to the whole “I don’t want to be responsible for selling the house and dealing with any repairs plus any huge financial losses”.  But I’m also not sure where I can rent in my kids’ school district that will also accept pets.  Did I mention I have 3 dogs and 3 cats?  See, I used to own my own home and I kind of arranged my life around that.  I didn’t make decisions based upon, “What if my husband leaves me for his skank ass cousin?”  This is now my dilemma. My hope is that the divorce is not finalized until late this year and that a judge, if it goes to court, will give me 12-18 months before I need to put the home up for sale.

I worry about what’s going to happen when my daughter graduates.  I know I still have time, but a year ago I would have said that she was going to have a fabulous party and we’d give her a wonderful graduation gift- probably a destination trip.  Now I have no idea what I’m going to be able to do.  Graduation gift?  Don’t make me laugh.  I’ll be lucky if I manage to scrape together enough money to throw a graduation party for her- a graduation party that will be sparsely attended for that matter.  I have like 3 friends here- 2 of them have daughters that will have already graduated by the time mine does so I’m not sure how much I’ll be interacting with them.  Most of my friends are in YYY state.  Cousinfucker and his family won’t be in attendance.  I’m going to have a party with less than 20 people in attendance.  For a graduation.  I’m thinking she will be better off just going out to dinner with us.  That goddamn motherfucking pig shit wearing waste of oxygen breathing cousinfucker has taken all this away from my child!  And I hate him for that.  I honestly do not care about him at all as a husband.  Run away, Cousinfucker!  Go fuck your cousin and tell your mommy all about it.  But DO NOT FUCK WITH MY KIDS!  I’m thinking about the graduation announcements and senior pictures.  Hell, do we need to rent or buy caps and gowns?  I graduated over 25 years ago; I honestly don’t remember what we did, and even if I did I’m sure it has changed.

I worry that my kids will have issues down the road.  And I sometimes wonder if my son is taking this too well.  Sometimes I tell myself that it is the benefit of having a father who wasn’t very involved anyway; the kid doesn’t miss him.  But other times I wonder, “Is it natural to be this blasé about your father’s disappearance in your life?”  My son has actually told people, “My dad is dead to me.”  He cares nothing about him.  My daughter is still willing to text him in order to get her allowance or to wish him a happy birthday or even to thank him for the Christmas gift.  My son?  Does.Not.Care.  He’s said outright he does not care if his dad ever gives him another dime.  He tells me there’s nothing he needs.  When I told him he needed to at least text his dad to thank him for the gift card he told me he didn’t have his number; he had deleted him from his contacts.  And he has mentioned more than once that he can no longer trust his dad, that he thinks his dad just used him to try to get him on “his side”, as my son puts it.

Honestly, I figured if one of the kids was more reluctant to take sides it would be him.  He longed for a relationship with his dad.  But he’s the one that he has really distanced himself.  That boy could give classes on No Contact.  My daughter is more practical.  She’s willing to deal with her dad in order to get her allowance and her long promised car.

That brings me to my next worry.  Her having a car would really help me out.  She could drive herself to her own practices.  She could drive herself and her brother to school.  That would give me a little more freedom in regards to getting a job.  However, my guess is Cousinfucker is once again going to plead poverty when it comes time to buying her a car.  Let’s give the poor guy a break.  He’s already promised a car to Harley’s daughter and it’s really tough buying two cars.  If you have to choose between your whore’s kid and your own child what sensible person is going to choose their own?  Am I right?  And seeing as how I’m already paying *his* car insurance I’m not seeing where he’s going to stand up and pay for her car insurance.

I worry about her a lot.  I worry she’s putting too much pressure on herself.  I worry she won’t have good relationships with boys.  I worry about her migraines.  I worry about the anxiety she says she’s feeling.

I wonder (not worry) whether or not I’ll be alone for the rest of my life.  Will I ever find someone else?  Someone who will treat me right.  Someone who will want to go places with me and do things with me.  Someone who will want to be a part of my family.  Someone who will embrace my kids and enjoy hanging out with them, too. Someone who isn’t a drama queen.  Someone who isn’t a miserable shit eating chimp and who won’t bring everyone around him down with him.  Someone who won’t fuck his cousin.  It’s those little things, ya know?

Honestly, I know I don’t *need* another man in my life.  If I look back over the last twenty-one years I feel like I was pretty much on my own the entire time.  I guess maybe we had a good five years before kids came along and he became a gigantic pain in my ass.  Becoming a parent changed my life.  It didn’t seem to change his, though.  And that’s where the problem is.  He still wanted a doting wife that tended to his every need.  After I took care of everything else.

But I would *like* to have someone I could share my life with.  It would be nice, as I said above, if there was someone out there who was willing to go places with me, do things with me.  When I am reluctant to do something, or don’t have the energy to do something, it would be nice to have someone cheering me on.  “Come on, Sam; it will be fun!  I’ll be right there with you.”  Instead I got, “Okay, let’s just go home.”  Or even better, he just wasn’t there to begin with.

I see friends who have husbands that actually *interact* with them and with the kids.  I think that would be nice.  Not a necessity but nice.  The guy that is, not the interaction.

In the end it’s all the not knowing that worries me the most.  I suppose time will tell.  Here’s to hoping that when I look back on this list in a year I’ll be able to laugh.

Why I Don’t Talk to Him

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

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

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

Some Days I (Want To) Cry, and Others I’m Just Pissed Off

 

It is no secret I’m a big fan of Chump Lady.  And if you don’t know that by now I am obviously not gushing over her enough.  I think she rocks.  She has explained a number of times that she uses the language that she uses on her blog to get people angry, to jolt “chumps” out of their chumpdom.  I say, “Thank God!”  Because I do tend to try to stay very level headed.  I try very hard not to let him get to me and not to let the rage simmer over into a full boil.  It would be so easy to let the rage consume me and let myself completely lose control and go ape shit on his ass.  But I don’t.  I’m looking long range.

There are times though that I get really pissed.  It pisses me off when I think of how blithely he lied to me.  He flat out lied to my face without a second thought.  He waltzed into our bedroom and announced he was thinking of birthday gift ideas for his mom and perhaps he would get her and his stepdad new phones and pay the bill since they only had pay as you go phones.  LIAR!  But, man, was he smooth as silk.  I had no idea my husband could lie to me that easily.

I texted him all summer while the kids and I were away visiting friends and family.  Every morning (or most mornings, I should probably say) I would snap a picture and send it to him with a little message.  Usually that message was simply, “Hi,” or “Good morning.”  And every day he played along, despite the fact that he was texting his whore and probably jerking off to her messages.  We talked about sex and looking forward to it once I got back home.  LIAR!  He just kept conning me.

He callously allowed me and his therapist to “coach” him through his drive for a supposed business trip.  I say supposed because there is some doubt that he was on this trip by himself.  Regardless, we coached him and stroked his ego and told him how he was a big boy and he could do this!  And he probably walked out of there thinking we were two of the biggest idiots he had ever encountered.  Motherfucker!

He casually mentioned going to his mom’s after the business trip.  You know, because he was so close to her house and he could just never forgive himself if he didn’t make the trip.  In hindsight he wasn’t that much closer to her house when he was on the so called business trip than when he was at our house.  Again with the lies.  Again doing it so casually.  And yes, that pisses me off.  To think that he was filled with such hubris.  That he thought he was so much better and so much smarter than me.  To think about all the ways he was pulling the wool over my eyes and not losing one bit of sleep over it.  Like an idiot I fully supported him, told him I had no problem with that.  He even had the audacity to ask me, “Are you sure you won’t be mad?”  I replied, “Of course not.  She’s your mom!”  Joke’s on me because dear old mom had already encouraged Harley to give her dear son a call, and there was a family reunion that they all attended.  HIS family wasn’t there.  Hell, we weren’t even informed about the event.  But he was there, and Harley was there, and they were hooking up a year to the day that our furniture was delivered to our new house from across the country.  You sonofabitch!  You had better thank your lucky stars that I haven’t had a chance to get down to New Orleans because once I do I’m buying a voodoo doll and I’m cursing your ass!

I get pissed when I think about him telling bald face lies all summer long about how he’s helping his mom out with grocery money and using his niece as a cover story.  “Oh, I’ve got to help them.  She’s my niece.  She’s young and she has a baby and she’s pregnant again.  Mom can’t keep up with feeding her and her boyfriend.  I’ve just gotta help!”  And because I’m a nice person, a kind and loving person, a big-hearted person, I thought nothing of it.  Of course we’ll help.

I think that’s the part that chaps my ass the most.  He used everything that I knew about us as a couple and who we were and used that against me.  We did help out our relatives.  I’m not saying we were dropping hundred dollar bills on them constantly, but it wasn’t out of the ordinary  for us to buy groceries, pay rent, send care packages, offer to pay a dentist bill, pay for airfare…  That’s why it was so easy for him to lie to me and get all of this by me.  You want to buy your mom a phone and pay her bill?  OK, that sounds reasonable.  It’s not like we haven’t paid her rent , bought her groceries, made a car payment for her, or “loaned” her money before.  We’ve got it so why not?  You want to send your mom money for groceries?  OK, that sounds reasonable.  You sent her $500 to repair her car?  Um, ok.  You sent her $500 again?  For what purpose?  And then you turned around and supposedly paid $172 for a single fucking tire at a Walmart in the whore’s town?  This is getting suspicious.

But no!  He didn’t know why that charge came up as Whoreville!  It was supposed to be some other town, much closer to his mom.  And he gave her more money because he just knew they were really hurting and needed it.  His mom didn’t ask for it, of course.  He’s such a good son he simply gave it to her because he could anticipate a need.

Yes, that shit pisses me off.  Again, you entitled jackass!  He LIED right to my face, disrespected me, disrespected our kids, our marriage, our everything.  And he used our past and my good nature to sell that lie.

I get pissed when I think about him refusing to take our daughter to his cousin’s funeral because that was just a front to go fuck his cousin.  I get pissed when I think about how, once again, he told me one bald faced lie after another.  What was supposed to be a quick one day trip turned into a five day adventure.  He was supposed to leave on Thursday, attend the funeral on Friday and return that day.  Instead he left on Thursday, told me on Friday that the funeral had been switched to Saturday (but by golly he swears they told him Friday!), and then plans to come home on Sunday.  When I ask him on Sunday, around 3 if he’s heading back soon he tells me he’s not leaving until 8.  What????  This is a man who had to be coached to drive on his business trip less than a month ago.  This is a man who until recently claimed that just driving to work (a mere 10-15 minutes away) was causing him great distress and anxiety.  Now, not only can the enflamed baboon’s ass drive hours and hours, he can even drive in the dark!  Praise Jesus!  It’s a miracle!  But wait!  It gets better.  I get a text at 11:00 at night letting me know he accidentally left with his mom’s keys in his briefcase.  Oh, how silly you are, Baboon Ass!  What a cute story!  Your mom’s keys are in your briefcase because you drove to the funeral.  On Saturday.  And your mom never needed her keys again between Saturday and Sunday.  Oh, that’s a laugh riot.  Now, he has to turn around and go back to Mommy’s house where he will spend the night.  He will come home the next day.  Yet somehow he doesn’t manage to get his ass home until after 5 in the afternoon.  It’s a 6 hour drive.  It also culminated in him rear ending a truck and him needing his own car repaired.  What’s wrong, Boo?  Were you thinking of sliding between your whore of a cousin’s thighs and forget to stop at the light?  Serves you right.  Too bad you weren’t going 70 mph when you slammed into it.  Hey, I told you I was pissed.

All those lies told to me and not one ounce of regret.  He could lie like a pro and not blink an eye.  That pisses me off.  It infuriates me.  You know why?  Because he’s saying, “You’re so stupid I can tell you anything and you’ll believe it.”   That’s insulting.  No, you flaming turd shot straight from Satan’s ass, I wasn’t DUMB; I was TRUSTING.  I trusted my lying, cheating husband of almost 21 years to be honest and faithful.  I misjudged your character.  I thought you had some and it turns out that much like your hair, you don’t have any.  He used our past and my kindness and understanding against me and then has the balls to believe it’s all because he’s such an impressive person who is so much smarter than the average bear.  Word to the wise, don’t ever mistake my trust and kindness for weakness.

I get pissed when I think about how he would SLEEP with his phone, and then make up lies.  “I don’t want to miss a call from my mom; I was afraid I wouldn’t hear it.”  What are you- six years old and away at sleep away camp for the first time?  Was he afraid I would find it and read their nasty ass texts?  You had a thumb print passcode, you jackass!  That was probably a huge lie, too.  “Oh, the company wants us to have our phones password protected so that if we ever lose them proprietary information is safe.”  Just to up the ante and play on my good nature he offered to add my thumb print as well.  “I trust you.”  Sam, you were an idiot of proportions so huge I can’t even begin to find an appropriate adjective.  You were off the charts stupid!  Yes, that’s me talking to myself.

I get pissed when I think about him boldly texting her AT OUR HOME, IN OUR BEDROOM and then lying to me when I ask him who on earth he’s texting that late at night.  “Oh, I’m not texting.  I’m playing Words With Friends.”  Seriously?  You don’t think I know the difference between a text screen and a game screen?

Then I get pissed at myself because I think to myself, “Why were you such an idiot?”  I don’t know!  Yes, I do.  I didn’t want to believe he could be cheating on me again.  I didn’t want to believe he could blow up our lives like that.  I liked my life.  I wanted to keep it.  So I buried my head in the sand and I believed even when I shouldn’t have.  It reminds me of the time we went to the zoo and watched as this chimp would stick his finger in his ass and pull out a shit-covered finger.  He would look at the finger, cock his head, sniff it, and then EAT the shit off of his finger.  Over and over again.  We stood there transfixed for more than a few minutes before we had to turn away.  He’s my shit eating chimp.  I couldn’t walk away!

I get pissed when I think about him checking me out only days after his return from the funeral and getting a hard on looking at me.  You fucking pig dipped in cow shit covered with flies and maggots!  You’re fucking your white trash cousin!  Don’t be checking me out.  I wouldn’t let you touch me if your dick was encrusted with diamonds!  I wonder though, would it piss you off to know that the reason I was so dressed up that day was because I was going to visit a lawyer to see what my rights were and how much you would end up paying me in child support?  Because I did.  Yes, you see, the very next day after I discovered you were back to fucking around with little Miss Harley I started calling lawyers.  I didn’t fuck around this time.  I started lining up my ducks.

I get pissed when I think about him taking off only a few days later to visit “his best friend.”  I mean, it was only fair since his friend had come to see him last time.  This time it was his turn.  Oh, had he forgotten to tell me that this was the weekend he was going?  He thought I knew.  And, of course, he was planning on telling me goodbye but I had just taken such a long time on my errand that he needed to leave before I could get back.  No, Satan, I think you mean you waited until I left to run an errand so you could get your damn suitcase out to the car without me being any the wiser.  Thankfully, I was already on to him, though so I knew it was all a lie this time.  Nonetheless, it pisses me off every time I think of him asking me why I hadn’t sent him a picture of my boobs.  Um, because, Dickhead, you’re fucking your cousin.  It actually puts me into a white hot rage some days.  The hubris.  A man gets brave when he’s screwing a piece of strange, even when that piece of strange is a white trash, gold digging whore.  Considering I’ve been told he has shown naked pictures of me to the whore I wonder now what his purpose in asking me to send him those pictures was.  Did he want to show her?  Is she eyeing some plastic surgery to be equal to me?  Did he want to show her so they could laugh together about how stupid I was?  Did he just want to test me, to see how far he could push me even when he was being a cheating, lying dick?  I don’t know.  I don’t care.  it just pisses me off.

I get pissed off when I think of how he so blithely spends his work days here at this house and then packs his bags and leaves to spend the weekend with his mistress and her kids.  Seriously, is that some entitled shit or what?  Is he just daring me to say something to him?  She can have you and all of your issues, too.  But it is still some entitled bullshit with a side of “Fuck You” tossed in.

I get pissed off when I think of all the money he has given to her, or spent on her.  That and the fact that he had the audacity to tell our son I “took all his money”.  No, Asshole, I simply made it more difficult for you to continue giving Harley every cent we had.

Similarly, I get pissed off when I think of him telling me, “I’m not going to continue to allow you to steal every dime I make!”  You wouldn’t be making the kind of money you make now if it weren’t for me, you lying, cheating douchebag.  And I didn’t steal YOUR money.  That was OUR money and you were giving it to YOUR WHORE without MY permission.

Simply looking at his pathetic face pisses me off most days.  I suppose it’s a good thing he does slink in and out of the house.

I was pissed off the day he told me, “This can still be civil.”  Fuck that!  I’ve been civil, you pompous, self-righteous incestuous bastard!  Very, very civil.

I get pissed off when I think about him trying to paint himself as the victim to our kids.  How dumb do you think they are?  This isn’t your mommy and your sister.  Those two idiot enablers don’t live with you, but your kids do.  They’ve been here for the last fifteen and thirteen years.  They know exactly what’s gone on in this house and how you’ve acted.  Your daughter called you out on your shit and your son doesn’t believe a word that you say.

I get pissed off when I think of him telling me, “Why don’t you use some of that money you took to pay the bills?” and then smirking, “Someone’s angry,” when I let loose on him.  I understand why the show, “Snapped” exists.

I think sometimes my biggest regret is not raging against him.  I sometimes wish I had Facetimed him when he was “visiting his best friend” and told him I knew, showed him the picture of his car.  Busted!  I wish I had told him not to come home and that I had thrown all of his shit on the front lawn with a big ol’ sign that said:  Cheater lives here! I moved my entire family across the country so I could fuck my cousin!  Along with a lot of smaller signs simply saying:  A cheater lives at xxxx YourStreet!  Enjoy fucking your whore the rest of the weekend, you asshole!

I get pissed off when I think about him giving a performance of a lifetime as Daddy of the Year for her four kids while he neglects his own.  I realize his relationship (or lack of one) with his kids is his own.  He’s going to have to own it and they aren’t cutting him any slack.  But it still pisses me off.  All these fucking years he shut himself away in his bedroom and left me to fend for myself as a single parent.  He fucks a whore and it suddenly jumpstarts his paternal instinct, although honestly, I think he’s just putting on a very good act.  He’ll get tired of it eventually.  And it pisses me off (and makes me a little bit sad for my kids) when I think of how she brags to people about what a wonderful father he is.  Is he?  Because his own kids don’t think he’s doing such a bang up job.  In fact, they’ve said he sucks as a dad.  But it’s so good to hear he’s treating your kids well.  I suppose when you’re fucking their mommy and she’s still married to their daddy you need to be especially nice to them.  What better way than to buy them off?

I get pissed when I think back to asking him for money to buy a Homecoming dress for our daughter and him telling me he didn’t have the money at this time; he’d have to give it to me next paycheck.  Yet somehow he was able to pay over $300 for a dress for a kid that isn’t his.

I get pissed when I think of how he’s ignoring his kid’s text messages, asking if he’s going to give them their allowances, because he’s too much of a chicken shit to actually admit that he’s not.  Now that he actually has to pay support he is apparently going to take the position of:  I pay child support and that should cover everything you need.  Ever.  That, despite the fact that he has NO BILLS outside of his support payment.  He lives here rent free, pays no utilities, pays no share of the marital debt, has no cell phone bill, no car payment, doesn’t even pay his car insurance.  I get a lump sum and I pay for EVERYTHING out of my money.  But he can’t cough up any extra for a yearbook.  Hey, here’s an idea.  Take that $200+ you spend each month on Harley and her daughter’s cell phone bill and use THAT to pay for your kids’ allowances!  Instead of blowing $300 on a damn dress for her daughter maybe use that money to treat your own damn kids!

I get pissed off when I think about how I’ve done all the grunt work over the years to get him to where he is and she’s going to plant her ass in one place, never moving her kids or her own self and he’s going to work around her.  Or at least that’s the plan.  Wonder how well that will work once he begins his new job and realizes he hates that one just as much as he hates this one because once again he has a boss?  That boss might have the balls to tell him no, or to overrule him on something or not let him have his way on everything.  Then he realizes in order to keep his pussy supply going he can’t move very far and now he’s stuck.  Boo hoo.  I feel so bad for you, CF.

I get pissed when I think about how he never arranged his jobs around OUR lives and US.  No, we were always expected to go wherever he took us.  But now, now he’s all about looking close to wherever the pussy is.  And how ridiculous is it that he was looking at a job smack dab in the middle of both of our home towns?  Seriously?  For over twenty years you couldn’t manage to look in that city which would have put us 2 1/2 hours away from your family and 3 hours away from mine?  That was too overwhelming for you but somehow you can now take on a divorce, your kids hating you, trying to sell a house (probably at a loss) with no guaranteed buyout, and a job change?  Once again, alert the fucking press because a miracle has occurred!

I get pissed when I think about the fact that he could have been promoted instead of us making another lateral move, thousands of miles away, destroying our lives.  But no, that all came to a screeching halt the first time he was fucking around with the dumb bitch and they came up with their little plan to move all of us closer (Why all of us?  Couldn’t he have moved and left us behind?).  He started the wheels turning way back then and we all got stuck with it.  So, instead of us remaining where we were, living the lives we loved while he was promoted and traveled, essentially rendering him a weekend husband and father, we’re here in BFE.  She’s the one that gets the weekend partner and father, instead of us.  Come to think of it, one of the reasons he gave for not wanting to travel so much was he didn’t want to miss out on his kids’ lives.  O.M.G.  That is hysterical!  He doesn’t seem to give two shits about his kids and what they want or what they’re doing.  And isn’t he basically doing the exact same thing he said he didn’t want to do?  It’s just that instead of staying at a Hilton or a Marriott, he’s staying in the family home while he’s away at work and then he drives the six hours to spend the weekend with his fake family.

I get pissed when I think of how casually he told me he was “grateful” to me for moving all over the country for him and his job.  Grateful?  How about acknowledging the fact that you’d still be a fucking 2nd shift supervisor if not for me?  Or perhaps a superintendent if you were very lucky.  The fact that I was willing to relocate instead of stomping my feet and insisting that I couldn’t be moved away from my family meant that you got to “self-promote”, as you liked to call it.  But he’s grateful.

Just like he also “respects me as a mother.”  Considering the fact that I’m the one that has done all of the parenting I would sure as hell hope you respect that.  Not to mention the fact that you run off every weekend to go fuck a whore and play family with her kids, leaving your kids with me.  I would hope you respect me as a mother seeing as how you LEFT YOUR FUCKING KIDS WITH ME DURING A STATE OF EMERGENCY DUE TO A HURRICANE!  And then again during a blizzard (also after a state of emergency had been called).

It pisses me off when I think of everything he has put all of us through.  We all gave up so much for HIM, to make HIM happy.  The end result is he didn’t give a shit.  It was never enough.  My daughter could have been a collegiate athlete; he took that away from her.  So HE could be happy.  My son is not happy here; he’s given up all of his friends, the one sport he loved to play, and the cello.  Again, all for his father’s wishes and desires.  My daughter is suffering- frequent migraines, anxiety, possible depression.  She has lost her drive.  My son is miserable here and wants to go back to YYY state.  I left behind friends.  I dropped all my activities.  For HIM.  Because he was unhappy where we were.  So I did what I always did and told him we would all go wherever he wanted to go.  My mother has said more than once that he couldn’t have left us in any worse financial shape.  Seriously- who the fuck puts an expensive inground pool in their backyard and then leaves their family?  A selfish asshole, that’s who!  He moves us here and now he’s planning on leaving?  WTF!  It’s like he dropped a bomb on our lives and once we had partially rebuilt them he tosses in a few hand grenades.  SURPRISE!

It pisses me off when I think of how he thinks he’s just going to walk away from all responsibilities.  He doesn’t worry about who is taking care of the kids.  He doesn’t worry about who will watch the dogs when he goes away.  Doesn’t give a shit who will watch them if we go away.  He isn’t worrying about finding another house in the kids’ school district, or one that will accept pets.  Hell, he’s not even concerned about getting our backyard back into shape in order to sell this damn place, and he sure as shit isn’t planning on doing any of the cleaning or chauffeuring dogs around when it’s time to show the house.  Nope, he’s free and clear.  He’s a bachelor with no kids, no pets, no responsibilities.  He’s planning on ME doing all the heavy lifting, just like I always have.

If I think way back to when I found out about him and Harley the first time it pisses me off to think of how *I* was the one who was expected to change and dance for him.  Oh, baby, tell me what I can do to make this all better?  What do I need to do so you don’t feel the need to seek out other women?  Let me know how I failed you so that I may improve.  You know who should have had a list of things to work on?  You!  You should have been the one dancing like mad, trying to woo me and win me back.  You should have been doing everything you possibly could have to keep me happy and to make me want you because YOU are the one that fucked up.  Not me!  Here’s the kicker, folks- I wouldn’t even want him to feel like he had to constantly prove himself to me.  I never wanted him to dance for me.  But if one of us is going to have a list I think it should be ME presenting a list to HIM.  I didn’t cheat.  I didn’t lie.  Instead he let me know what all *I* could do.  Unfortunately, I was so stupid I went along with it.  I wanted to save my marriage.  I wanted to prevent my kids from growing up with divorced parents.  In hindsight I should have kicked his sorry ass to the curb and got on with my life.  In YYY state, with my daughter still competing in gymnastics, my son still playing hockey, and me still surrounded by great friends and a support network.

In a similar vein it pisses me off when I think of how he would plead for me to “just leave her alone; let her and her husband work things out for themselves while we work on our own stuff.”  Or how he explained the text she sent to him and his wimpy response.  He didn’t want to hurt her anymore; he felt bad because he knew he had already hurt her when he picked me.  Oh, barf!  She was your potential fuck buddy for less than four months.  I’d been your wife for over 18 years at that point.  He is a liar and a coward and a cheat.

It pisses me off whenever I think about the fact that while he was more than willing to stick up for his whore he refused to stick up for me.  I would let him know it bothered me that his family continued to fawn over the dumb whore and his response was always, “I can’t control them,” or “What am I supposed to do?  They’re grown adults.”  He refused to talk to them about their behavior, instead expecting me to just get over it.  And of course, whining about me not wanting to have a relationship with his traitorous family.  Even when I could overhear his mom telling him how she wanted to work on her relationship with me he wouldn’t ‘fess up and tell her straight out:  Stop interacting with Harley!

It pisses me off every time I think about how he would throw me under the bus with his many fucking lies to anyone who would listen.  He was always the victim and he loved to paint me as a heartless, vicious bitch.  He never corrected any of the fallacies.  Oh no, that might jeopardize his victim stance!  He actually had the gall to tell another sister that I filed for divorce and he had no idea why!  Um, that’s a lie, but if we’re going to go down this route then might I suggest you read your damn divorce papers?  I told you exactly why; I even gave her name and listed her address.

Then he turned around and told this same sister I threw out all of his clothes.  Because he never corrects his inaccurate statements I’m sure everyone in his circle still believes to this day that I’ve thrown out all of his clothes despite the fact that they were all nicely hung up in the guest bedroom.  You see, Cousinfucker fully intended to remain in the master bedroom, watching TV on the 42” TV, sipping wine, texting his whore while I slept on the couch or in the guest bedroom.  He, the cheater, would retreat to his spacious suite all during the week and then on the weekends he would leave to fuck his whore, returning back to the master bedroom sometime Sunday evening or Monday morning.  Unfortunately for him he made the mistake of accusing me of stealing “every dime he made”.  Picture me as Julia Roberts in “Pretty Woman”:  Big mistake.  Huge!  I kicked his worthless ass out of the master bedroom; I wheeled his dirty clothes into the guest room and moved all his shit out of the closet that weekend.  I think I should get bonus points for actually hanging them up instead of throwing them out onto the lawn.

It pisses me off when I think about HIS MOTHER encouraging Harley to call him.  What kind of an idiot encourages her son’s whore to give him a call because he’s “so sad”?  Seriously??? Don’t you think maybe that’s something you should be discussing with his WIFE?  Oh no!  Let’s call up the whore and see if she can work her magic.

It especially pisses me off when I think of her sitting in my kitchen asking me why we aren’t Facebook friends and telling me that she wants our relationship to go back to the way it was when we were so close, talking about how CF and I have been together for 20 years and that’s a long time.

It pisses me off that she can then turn around and write on my daughter’s Facebook page that she loves her with all of her heart even with everything that’s going on and then beg her not to shut her out.  YOU CAUSED THIS, YOU DUMB BITCH!  Your granddaughter is going through hell because you chose to enlist the help of her father’s whore instead of talking to his wife, her mother.  You have condoned this.  You’ve welcomed her with open arms.  You’ve basically told both of your grandchildren, “Deal with it!”

It pisses me off when I think of *everyone* who has been working behind the scenes to help destroy our marriage.  There was his “best friend” who so helpfully told him about my other page.  Did he really think that was going to help CF?  I mean, I realize I’m just the woman who has lived with him for over 20 years (incidentally, that is longer than anyone else in his life) so as his college roommate he undoubtedly knew CF way better than I did.  Let’s fast forward and get to the conclusion:  No, it didn’t help.  In fact, it put him into a suicidal state.  Was the best buddy around for that?  No.  He had his own life to live.  Just let the cold hearted bitch take care of him.  He actually had the gall to hug me the last time he saw me, all the while undoubtedly encouraging my husband to trade me in for a newer model.

There was his sister who begged him to leave me, who told him he deserved so much better than me.  Where was she when he was in the hospital?  Oh, that’s right!  She left him with that horrible wife and never bothered to come visit him.  At least now she’s not the only one who has cheated and left her spouse for another.  Welcome to the club, baby brother!

Going back even further it pisses me off when I think about how he wanted me dependent upon him and how nonchalantly he went about achieving that goal.  And it really pisses me off when I think of him wasting 20 plus years of my life, making me dependent upon him, and then discarding me like yesterday’s trash once he has decided he’d rather build a life with his cousin.

If I’m honest with myself this whole situation pisses me off.  Being moved 2000 miles across the country, our lives systematically dismantled for his amusement (and happiness, of course; can’t forget his happiness), money poured into a new house, new car, new furniture, new pool, all the things we promised our kids, the lies he told them about this brand new life out here, and then BOOM!  Lies, lies, lies.  As he blows up our lives completely.

THIS is precisely why I try so hard to take the high road and stuff all of this down.  No, not so much stuff it down.  I try to let it roll off my back, like water on a duck’s back.  This is somewhat ironic because I remember standing in the hair salon with my maid of honor and future sister-in-law, aka Jezebel, the morning of my wedding.  We were wearing button down shirts so as to not mess up our hair once it was done.  Our hair was brushed but that was all, and no makeup was worn.  I let my soon to be sister-in-law go first so my best friend and I were standing around talking.  To keep my emotions from welling up and to prevent the tears from falling I kept saying, “I’m a duck.  I’m a duck.  It’s all like water off a duck’s back.”  Who knew that I’d be saying that again at the end of our marriage?  Such irony.  Can we call that the circle of life?  I digress.

I let it all roll off of me, keeping only enough to power me through to do what needs to get done, because if I didn’t I would be consumed by the rage of everything he has done.  Voodoo dolls would be the least of his concerns.  Another Jedi would fall to the Dark Side.  I’ve got kids to raise; I don’t have time for that shit!  So… I let it roll off my back and only every now and then do I allow myself to take a moment to dwell on the Dark Side.

Let’s All Praise Jesus- Harley is Happy!

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Life Is Too Short to be an Asshole!

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

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

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

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

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

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

Is this really what we want to teach our kids?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why Didn’t You Take the Deal?

I’m a big fan of Criminal Minds.  Anyone else out there a fan?  Do you remember the first episode that had the Reaper in it?  They discover he made a deal with the sheriff or police chief, I’m not sure which.  If the chief stopped looking for him, he would stop killing.  Now, the chief is dying and the deal is going to end.  He tries to broker a new deal with Aaron Hotchner but Aaron won’t take it.  This ends badly.  Very, very badly ultimately because SPOILER ALERT eventually, many episodes later, he ends up killing Aaron’s wife.  But in this episode he ends up boarding a bus and slaughtering a group of innocent bus riders.  He calls Aaron and tells him, “You should have taken the deal!”  Or was that the cliffhanger when he confronts him in his apartment?  Anywho…

Now, I’m not about to go out and hunt down a bus full of innocents.  I do, however, sometimes wonder why STBX didn’t take his out when he first had the chance.  Why didn’t he take the deal?  Two and a half years ago I caught him in an emotional affair and demanded he choose between the two of us.  If you want her, go to her, but I will not be your safety net.

Her answer is, of course, he couldn’t liquidate his assets quickly enough, so he stayed with me (and dumped her).  Oh, you stupid, stupid little bitch.  Do you not realize it doesn’t matter how quickly he can liquidate assets because they are already marital property?  He can spend every dime but he still has to cough up half to give to me.

Maybe it was because he hadn’t had time to move us across the country and he figured I would be willing to stay put if he left.  Hell, maybe he was going to leave but she chickened out at the last minute.  I don’t know.  I suppose it’s not important.  I just keep thinking (well, not really; occasionally it pops into my mind) about how he told me he was ready to hop in his car and come get me and the kids if I didn’t return home from my mom’s house.  If you recall, my stepdad died days before I made my discovery.  We had already purchased airline tickets to go out for the funeral.

He could have left then.  He had the perfect opportunity.  Instead he told me he didn’t want to lose any of us.

A few months later I find out about his plans to marry her.  Again, he could have left but he chose not to.  Hell, he wanted to renew our wedding vows!

A year and a half ago we were moving across the country.  The house was sold, bought out by his company, a sure thing.  Things were looking rocky between her and her husband.  He could have got out then.  Said, “Sam, I think it’s best if you and the kids don’t come on out here with me.  I’m in love with Harley and despite our best efforts I don’t think we’re ever going to be able to put our marriage back together.  The house is sold.  Let’s split the proceeds and start the divorce proceedings.”  But no!  We buy an even more expensive house, fill it with new furniture, get a new car, put a pool in the backyard… He systematically dismantled my life and the lives of my children in order to get us out here.  He could have been free but he chose to keep himself entangled.  Why?  Why didn’t he “take the deal”?

I realize I’m trying to understand that which cannot be understood.  I’m trying to explain that which cannot be explained.

It’s just that I look back sometimes and I think, “WTF were you thinking?  Why?  Why did you do half of this shit?”  He could have stopped construction on the pool.  He could easily have said, “Sam, I’m not willing to get a loan.  I think we should wait until next summer.”   Or, when we found out that excavating the rocks was going to cost another $11,000 he could have said, “Sam, that is way too much money!  We budgeted x amount and now you’re telling me it’s going to be y amount.  We don’t have it.”   BAM!  $57,000 saved!  No, instead he says, “This better be worth it!”  He reignited his affair with his whore of a cousin as he watched the construction all summer long.  Even sent me pictures. How fucked up do you have to be to do that?  Or even better, once the affair was already underway I asked him how much stock we had to sell because I was getting worried about the cost; whatever wasn’t covered by cashing in stock was going to have to come out of savings.  He assured me we had plenty.  I told him in that case I was going to go with the more expensive stamped concrete.  He never said a word!  Hey, asshole, that might have been a great time to say something like, “Sam, the other stuff is fine.  Let’s not spend anymore than we have to.”  But no!  Carry on with your whore while we spend a few thousand more.

Our cats died last year.  My daughter begged me to let her take home a stray.  He could have put his foot down.  No more cats!  He didn’t.  This was much earlier in the year so perhaps he wasn’t cavorting with Harley at the time.  But I’m pretty sure they had established contact by the time Memorial Day rolled around and she wanted to bring home a kitten.  I told him about it.  He could have said, “No more cats!  This is crazy!”  But no, he just let it happen.

Of course, when you’re willing to walk away from all of it and leave your betrayed spouse to pick up all the pieces and take care of everything I suppose you don’t really care what happens.  It sure would have been nice to have that extra money, though, instead of sinking it into a hole in the ground.  Hey, Cousinfucker, most people don’t put a fucking pool in their backyard only to move a year later.  It’s not really profitable.  Dumbass!

The only thing I can think of that makes sense is that he had his own very personal time table and he didn’t want to show his hand.  If that cost him a bunch of extra money… oh well.  I suppose it was worth it to him.  Me?  Well, I sure as hell wish he had “taken the deal” and gotten the fuck out of our lives before all of this went down!