the unknown.

First of all, I’d like to give a shout out to my friend Jamie. I called her and unloaded all this crap on her this morning. Her first question: “ok, do you have xanax?” No. But I will be getting some. Her last question: “why don’t you blog all of this?” So thanks, Spanks, (her nickname…Spanky) for your advice…

The ex has had a baby with his girlfriend, now fiance…Cried when the baby was born (out of sadness, not joy) and cried when I heard they got engaged. (Thanks, Jamie for softening the blow for me) That lasted about 2 days then I was over it. I am sure when the big day comes, I’ll either be:

a. doped up on xanax and sleeping

b. drunk.

c. at a spa

d. with my girlfriends (hopefully c and d)

Fast forward to the unknown…

My kids are making their first communion on Sunday…(we have twins)

One pew. One family. Me, him, kids…I asked my parents to sit someplace else so it wouldn’t be awkward. My parents hate my ex for what happened. Rightfully so.  Did I mention my dad is still paying for our wedding? I digress..

I shared with my ex that we have one pew for the kids’ family. He and I need to sit with the kids, go up with them as they receive communion, etc. I kindly asked him to have whoever is coming with him to sit someplace else. The seating arrangements could look something like this:

Me, kid, kid, ex, my mom, my dad, his whore

Me, kid, kid, ex, my dad, my mom, his whore

Him, kid, kid, me, my mom, my dad, his whore

Him, kid, kid, me, my dad, my mom, his whore.

 

Anyone see a pattern here? Has he answered my request? No. I told him that I wish we could sit on opposite sides of the church but that can’t happen. “I’m sure we can”, said the ex. See, he doesn’t believe in following rules that are given from other people. The letter clearly states that we are to SIT WITH OUR CHILDREN. If he chooses not to, that’s his deal. I’ll be right there with my kids.

My parents agreed to sit someplace else because they don’t want to make it awkward for anyone. Because THEY ARE SMART. He thinks everyone is ok with what he’s done.

News flash–we’re not. Still not. I wish I was. When will it go away? I read an article that I don’t need to forgive. Forgiveness is Overrated. Read it here. If he was truly sorry for his actions, then maybe. Anyway, I digress. again.

I’ve been having the craziest dreams because I have so much on my mind regarding this. I don’t want to dream of my old house (where they live, happily ever after) and them anymore.

I still don’t know where she is sitting. The unknown is killing me. Just as it has in the past. I need to “prepare for the worst, hope for the best, pop a xanax”–Jamie.

 

 

 

 

 

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my ship lights

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noun: friend; plural noun: friends; noun: Friend; plural noun: Friends
  1. 1.
    a person whom one knows and with whom one has a bond of mutual affection, typically exclusive of sexual or family relations.
    syn: companion, soul mate, confidant, similar, kindred spirit, sidekick, buddy, homies, bff, peeps, best friend, ally…
    Ship lights.
    What a feeling it is to know that my friends are there to keep me safe in the stormiest of nights. Stormiest days. Stormiest hours. Stormiest minutes, seconds, nanoseconds.
    They are my blessings. My girls. My shoulders to lean on and feet to keep me moving forward.
    I got back a few hours ago from our annual weekend away. This year we went to NYC for a few days. It’s like not a day has passed and we pick up right where we left off the last time. I can BE MYSELF with my girls. WE can be ourselves. I shake off all of the cobwebs, drama, hateful feelings, bitterness, etc and just be me. It’s 48 hours of constant laughter. Quick witted comebacks and one-liners. Hugs, laughter, happiness, jokes…
    ship lights.
    We all got to NY sometime in the afternoon on Friday. Everyone was traveling from different states..MD, NH, MA and two of us from NY.  Every trip we take, I have a travel buddy. Makes it that much more fun. One year we drove, the next took a train and this year we flew. Planes, trains and automobiles!
    The weekend went way too fast. Friday night we decided to really let loose and “indulge” more than we would on Saturday night. Who wants to be hungover traveling on Sunday? Not us.
    Friday was a blast. Bits and pieces are coming back to me. Drinks were flowing. Jokes were told. Stories were shared. Bonds were made.
    Saturday we walked. and walked. and walked. We shopped. and shopped. and shopped. In Chinatown we found a sign that said “COLDASS WATER, $3.”  More laughter. We followed a sketchy lady to some hideout behind a statue of a Chinese dragon. There we were; huddled in a circle, checking out their knock off purses. A secret society.  A sketchy secret society…
    Cab rides. Scary drivers. Nasty cologne. Brand new cabs. Screeching. Stopping. Going. Honking. Constant stimulation in NYC. I could never live there.
    Saturday night. I have not had that much fun in a LONG, LONG, LONG time. We laughed until our stomachs were sore and then we’d laugh some more. We made friends with the waiter–it was his last night working there. He is striving to be a comedian. Little did he know, we are quite funny ourselves. You can only imagine the banter that went back and forth. All night. We filled our stomachs with delicious food and drink. The diets were tossed away until Monday. Deserts were eaten. The wine was flowing. The conversation was never serious. Light. Fun. It always is.
    Today we had to say good bye to each other. It’s always bittersweet because I don’t want to leave; yet I know we will be traveling again next year to make more memories. And more after that. We all leave to go back to our routine. Back to reality. Back to the daily grind. Back to our children; them to their spouses.
    I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have them in my life. I need them to help me weather my storm. I know I can count on them whenever I need them. They know that they can count on me too.
    I need my ship lights. Life is quite a stormy journey.

one step can change everything.

I thought I was passed all of this.

I thought I had cried all my tears, forgotten about “them” and was stronger than this.

Friday was the first time that I laid eyes on “her” since the truth came out.  One foot out of a store in the mall and there she was.

one step can change everything.

I honestly didn’t think that I would react in the way I did. She didn’t see me; thank god.

Frozen.

Heart racing.

Sweaty palms.

Anger. Anger. Anger. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness.

I called one of my girlfriends (after calling stbex and bitching him out) and she talked me off the ledge.

I walked out to my car and then the tears started flowing.

Flowing like hot lava on my cold cheeks onto my cold hands, pooling in my ears as I talk on the phone.

That totally fucked me up.

The kids were with him this weekend.

I was ALONE. Sick and alone.

Lonely. Alone. Solo.

No one to take care of me while I was sick. No one to rot on the couch with.

The kids came back tonight at 6.

Come to find out “she” spent the whole weekend with them.

Painting pumpkins, making cookies, doing FAMILY things.

That’s MY family.

She was NOT part of this plan. This is not how my life was supposed to be.

This is NOT how the kids lives were supposed to go.

After I learned that she was there this weekend, (according to lawyers and law guardian, she’s not supposed to be there when the kids are until they are interviewed by the law guardian) the tears started flowing again.

Hot lava on my cold cheeks, hands, ears. Burning and stinging like salt on an open wound.

It wouldn’t stop.

All the emotions came back and I couldn’t stop them. The dam had unleashed it’s fury of anger, sadness, depression, tears into my once calm state.

Why does this still hurt? How can I still be sad about this? I don’t want him. I am sad over the death of the vision that I had for our family. I was the one who should be painting pumpkins and making cookies with my family. NOT her.

Run away. Run away as fast as I can. That’s my next thought.

What I want for my kids is not here. It’s home. Family, friends, memories.

Yes their father and his whore are here, but this is not what I want for my children. I want tradition. Family and friends. Holidays together. Lazy summers together.

I don’t get that here. I won’t have that here.

one step can change everything.

NOT MY PROBLEM.

Image

 

Finances. What a pain in the you know what. 

I separated my finances from our joint account. We have automatic bill payment for some and I was unaware of when those bills were going out. Stbex was in Florida vacationing and didn’t tell me that they were going out. If I knew they were going out, I would have transferred my half into our joint. Still with me here?

Stbex gets paid ONCE a month. The beginning. All the bills went out and he has ZERO money. He emailed me an itemized list of my half of the bills. “You owe me $1500.00 and I am giving you two pay periods to get it back to me.”

Ok.

I gave him $500 when I got paid last. He told me that his bills were $250. Those of us who can subtract (or divide) would know that would leave him with how much?

Let’s see…. $500-$250= $250

Let’s try it another way.. $500/2= $250

So you see, boys and girls, that would leave him with $250.00 to spend. Last weekend he spent money on his Alumni Golf Tournament that he “had to play in.”

Now he has no money to buy the kids birthday presents. They turn six on Saturday, party on Sunday. 

NOT MY PROBLEM. I told him that I will be buying EVERYTHING for their birthday from the bounce house to the cups. He can subtract that amount from my “bill.”

“But I have zero money!!!” 

The kids won’t have a gift from you but you made sure you played golf.  Nice.

Am I wrong? Should I be feeling bad for this S.O.B for putting his needs first? NO. I shouldn’t. Next thing you know I will be getting a letter from his lawyer. 

I will be giving him a SMALL (read that again folks, SMALL) amount from my paycheck on Friday. SMALL. I have bills to pay and a birthday party to fund. I’m only a teacher. I certainly don’t teach for the paycheck. 

I am getting anxious just thinking about it because I am afraid of what he is going to do next. I know he will call his lawyer and throw some nasty crap my way. (Sorry, I couldn’t think of a better word than CRAP.)

This weekend will be quite interesting.

My mother has not spoken to him since Christmas.

My father? Who knows. He saved my fathers life when they were golfing six years ago. Dropped dead. CPR and defib and he brought him back to life. My father thought he walked on water. NOT anymore. You can bet the farm that my father will be there as well.

Not only my family, but friends of mine who USED to be his friends. People who he now calls “bad influences on the kids.” NOW.

Now, things are different. There will be so much tension in the air at the party on Sunday that I am going to need to take a Xanax. YES!! I totally forgot that I had some. I have to. I will be cordial. Not angry or mean. It’s the kids party! My babies are going to be SIX!

My heart hasn’t stopped racing since this conversation over text messaging started. I thought writing it out would help. Maybe I need to pick up my knitting needles….

 

This stage.

Image

I don’t want to cry. I don’t want to feel the ache in my heart and stomach when I speak to him. I don’t want to be sad.

I thought I was past this emotion. I thought I was turning a corner to a “new me.”

Why am I being bombarded with emotions that I thought I had buried. Why have they clawed their way out of the locked grave that I slammed shut a month ago?

Why?

I know that with major life changes and grief people go through many stages. Why did I fall back into this puddle of tears and sadness? I thought that I wasn’t going to fall back into THIS stage. I thought THIS stage was long gone.

Kids are with their father at a carnival. That was supposed to be something we did as a family. Those are family activities. I am so sad right now. Sad over the fact that the man I married is dead, but someone who looks just like him but acts completely different is alive.

I spoke to him for the first time in months today. Actually 20 minutes ago. I cried. I asked “why.” I did all the things you’re not supposed to do. I did not, however, try to convince him to fix our broken marriage. Small wins.

I told him that I want to go home. I want to move away from here. I can’t be free here.

Before I enter the store, salon, etc I have to check the place first to see who is in there. Happened today. Went to get a pedicure and I had to scour the place for any face that would make me have any negative reaction. Is that how my life will be like now? I can’t start over here.

I am really sad at this very moment. Tears are running down my cheeks like the rain that is pouring down outside.

I don’t want to be sad. I don’t want to cry. I want to stay angry. I don’t want to speak to him. I have been through so much. I have been on this emotional roller coaster and I cannot get off of it. Is this some sick joke? Am I being pranked by “god”?

Why am I being put through this? I thought I was a good person with good morals and values. Why does someone who has no moral compass and no values get to make these decisions that affect so many people? I believe in karma. I don’t want to be around when his comes knocking on his door.

Big red dot.

Image

Big red dot. That’s what my marriage has come down to.

Red dot on a brown folder.

A big red goose egg.

Cancel.

Dead.

Done.

Zero. 

Stop. Do not go forward. There will be no yellow or green light. STOP. 

 

I went to my lawyers office yesterday to answer a letter from stbex’s lawyer. (gag) She walked in carrying four arms worth of folders, papers and letters all the while managing to balance on her six inch heels. She amazes me! Anyway, she plopped the folders down on the table and pulled mine to my side. “S v. S DIVORCE” with a big red circle next to that. It was like a train wreck. You don’t want to stare but you can’t help yourself. I stared at it. That’s my last name next to that hated word, DIVORCE. My last name next to that big red dot. Why couldn’t the folders at least be pretty? Nothing about this is pretty. Come on–give me something! 

I started to get a knot in my stomach. I hate coming in here, except to have my lawyer validate my feelings. She’s good. REAL good. I know she will try her hardest to get me and the kids out of here and back home to my family.

The big red dot sort of brought some old emotions up for me. Made me sad. For about a second. Then I was ANGRY. I just want out of here. I want to drive home and not have any BIG RED DOTS telling me to STOP.

Grudges.

grudge

While my dad was in the hospital, I talked to him about the fact that he holds grudges towards his siblings for silly things.

Stupid things.

Trivial things.

After he had his heart attack and was literally brought back from the dead by my stbex, we all thought he would have a different take on life.

Be happier.

Hold less grudges.

But my dad being my dad did not change. What a fool I was.

After this surgery I told him how fragile life is.

That it’s pointless to hold grudges and carry around all of this anger.

Why is it so hard to practice what we preach? Why is it so easy to tell someone to just “let it go.”

But we can’t.

Why is it so easy for us to share our opinion and give (fairly good) advice, yet not take it for ourselves?

Should I let my dad stew in his bitterness? Can I compare it to mine?

He takes things so personally. Things that were said or done to him are NOT things to be angry about and cut people out of his life.

Betrayal, lies, deceit, irresponsibility and selfishness are things that I can be angry about. I don’t want to be, but I still am. I still hate him. I cried yesterday. Why? Because as soon as I pulled back into this town after being at home for a week a flood of emotions hit me. I realized, yet again,  that my dreams for my marriage and family were crushed by the one person I trusted and loved. (Even through multiple affairs)

Am I justified in my anger and grudges, but my father is not?

I’m angry just thinking about it…