It's D Day

It's D day Inmate Brooks.  Soon, it will be OVER.

May the Lord have mercy on your soul.

72 MORE HOURS.....

Her name was JoDeann.

She was a huge tomboy as a kid. My brother, her, and Michael from across the street were inseparable when we first moved to Country Club Oaks. I was 12 that year, so my brother was 8. She lived next door.  She quickly became his best friend.

I have a ton of pictures growing up, and JoDeann is in most of them. Birthdays, pool parties, Christmas, prom, and just random pictures of nothing in particular. She was always at my house.  I regarded her as a little sister.

She was an effervescent ray of sunshine, and always went out of her way to make others smile. She was always smiling, laughing, and bubbly. She was fearless and trusting. She would give you the shirt off her back, the shoes from her feet. She believed in second chances and would often smooth things over between feuding friends. She was the peace maker.  I've often wondered what she would be like now.

Her life ended December 31, 1992. She was only 23.

In 72 hours, the worthless piece of crap who ended her life will be put to death for this crime.

Googling her name will bring up his smirking mug. Every time.

Here is the most recent news report. Every time the anchor mispronounces her name it makes me mad.

http://abc3340.com/news/local/alabama-family-looking-for-closure-as-execution-nears

I know that she would have been embarrassed by all of this fuss. Had he just taken her wallet and nothing else, I know she would have forgiven him. 

But now we will never know, because he never gave her that chance.

In 72 hours, it will all be over.

Only Two More Shopping Days Until Valentine's Day

On my way home last night, I had to stop into a local Wallyworld to pick up some last minute items. The whole place was awash in pinks and red. Flowers bouquets, candy hearts and a stuffed menagerie that would make Barnum and Baily jealous.

The store was rather calm, but I know that in a mere 24 hours the place will be a mad house.

I have carefully shopped over the last day or so in order to avoid being in any store on the final 48 hours until Valentine's Day.

I used to love Valentine's Day with it's sugary sweet confections and flowers and fluff. And for all his shortcomings,  D/H  always made a big deal of it too. I was always guaranteed a gitf on Valentine's Day.  My very first gift the year we started dating was a gold necklace and bracelet set with "I (heart) YOU" stamped along the chain. I only had been seing him, maybe three weeks, After our second year of marriage, the gifts suddently stopped, so eventually Valentine's was the ONLY gift that I got each year (not even one on our anniversary) so I came to look forward to it.  Simply because that one day it seemed like he cared for someone other than himself.

We were disccusing Valentine flowers just yesterday when the Boss said that she wanted something "useful" instead.  That got me thinking about why I enjoyed the flowers so much.

Yes, I know, they were temporary. But what grander gesture is there than to spend money on a fleeting bit of splendor, just for the one that you love.

Okay, okay, I know....that is not very practical. I enjoy a good practical gift too.  But practical gifts are for Christmas and your birthday. Or maybe Mother's Day.

Like I said, I had grown accustomed to D/H sending me flowers on Valentine's Day. But as I looked over the sea of roses in this Wallyworld's produce department, it dawned on me, He never had to spend a great deal of money and have FTD deliver them. He could have just as easily picked up one of these $5 bouquets and BROUGHT them to my office, a mere 10 minutes away from his. I would have much rather had that.  But as my BFF Cyn pointed out, he was always more about making himself look good than actually making the effort to be good.  Indeed.

Ladies here in my office are excitedly talking about the  "50 Shades" movie, All those who read it are excitedly making plans to go see it this weekend, I have not heard this type of excitement since "Magic Mike" That will drive up box office sales of  what is at best, a mediocre movie.

I will be happy with my comfy couch and the ever growing DVD collection. W has already suggested crashing my little shindig, since he doesn't have his children.

Whatever...

Week Of Love...Well That Is What Rick and Bubba Are Calling It

So this is the "week of love." Or at least that is what Rick and Bubba call the week in which Valentine's Day falls.  That is THIS SATURDAY for all you procrastinators.

Usually this week is spent on rating the top love songs of all times, gleaning ideas for creative Valentine's Day gifts for their wives, and playing match-maker, usually between the college-aged interns.

And, on occasion, they will discuss ways that listeners can enrich their own marital lives.

Today, this article on Facebook caught my eye.  It is a list of 10 Ugly Things AWFUL HUSBANDS Do To Their Wives.

 It is no secret, I had an AWFUL HUSBAND and it comes as no surprise that he was guilty of EVERY SINGLE ITEM  on this list.  And given my discussion with Ex Wife Number One, he was guilty of all of them in their marriage too.  Sadly, this is an established habit that will continue to repeat itself.  Though not exactly a Proverbs 31 wife, I had come closer than EWNO, and for nearly three times as long. But I was probably most hurt. I was working to build a life with someone who didn't appreciate anything that I did.

 I could not overcome his issues that were surely formed at a very young age. Just like Tigger and Kit-Kat, D/H's biological mother walked out on him when he was five.  She then went on to a string of short-term marriages (6 now at last count), some of which were abusive. Rather than learning that one must work on thier relationships, she chose the less fulfilling hedonistic part of relationships, and walked when it no longer "felt good." On to the next one.

 John Croyle, a well respected child advocate there in my state, says that a child learns where they stand with a parent by the time they are six.  So despite being raised most of his life with a loving, Christian step-mother, the damage was already done and it manifested itself if the way he treated the women in his life. They were good for the "honeymoon" stage, where it is all sunshine and rainbows.  but when it came time to work, he was ready to move on. Until he learns that ALL relationships eventually require work, namely compromise and sacrifice, he will wind up just like her, bouncing from relationship to relationship.

So, in the interest of nuturing relatonships, please remember, it is not always going to be sunshine and roses. There will be times when you must carry one another. Sometimes you must both crawl. But the point is to get where you are going together.

Read Nurturing Marriage HERE

~EnJOY

Global Warming My Foot!!

Here are the current conditions for Birmingham.....on July 31st.....In Alabama...

 

Currently

68°F

Mostly Cloudy°F | °C 

Thr

84° / 68°

Fri

83° / 68°

Sat

85° / 69°

Sun

87° / 68°

Mon

86° / 67°

 

Global Warming my foot!!

 

The climate change has my sinuses in an uproar. I had to take a decongestant just to breath enough to get to sleep. Of course I was finally sleeping like a baby when it time came to get up this morning.

 

Thankfully I now select the entire week's wardrobe on Saturday as part of my clothes washing ritual.  I set aside five outfits, pants, blouses, accessories, etc... and the only think I have to decide each morning is what, out of those five outfits, do I want to wear.   Simplifies everything and makes getting ready each morning a snap.

 

But these weather conditions are throwing the kibosh on that stratedy. I'm having to scramble for jackets and sweaters to go with everything. Not an easy task when  they are all two sizes too big for me now! I spend most days at my desk under my heater.

 

But I can't say that the milder tempatures aren't a nice change.

 

I wonder what this winter is going to be like!

 

Well En-JOY your day!

 

 

Gluten Free Made Easier!

 

Eating Gluten Free has just gotten easier....and cheaper!!

I am acustomed to paying narly $6 for a small loaf of GF bread (really makes me not want a sandwich).  Mixes for GF items are equally as pricey, twice, sometimes even three times the price. I am telling you, it is easier sometimes to just do without.

I was plesantly surprised to find that on my last visit to Aldi (my favorite grocery store...focus on the food, not the brand) had a large line of gluten free products! They were also very economical, with is rare for gluten free products. 

 

 



I know they thought I was crazy when I snapped this pic, but I had to sent it to mother. The highest priced item I purchased was just $2.99!

It was very hard to not buy one of EVERYTHING they had (but I came pretty darn close)!

You will see, over there on the far right, the brown rice spaghetti noodles that last night's dinner post was made from. At only $1.49 a package I will be picking up quite a few more of these! The fusilli pasta (corkscrew pasta)  was just $1.29.

The chocolate chewy bars were pretty good, but at $2.49 for only 4, I will have to decide if that one is worth it.

I purchased two boxes of mix: a pancake mix and the mix for lemon squares. $ 2.99 each.

I was not expecting the Snickerdoodles to be actual cookies. I thought they were a mix. at $2.49 for just 12 that was a little pricey, but the soft-baked cookies were pretty good.

The frozen pancakes were a little dissapointing. There are 12 in the box for just $2.69, but when I got them open they are "silver dollar" size. Not bad. They are actually pretty filling.

The crackers were the best! $1.49 for the bag. I got Sea Salt and the Rosemary and Olive Oil. Yummy!!

I was disappointed to read that these were "limited time" offerings but hopefully as those folling a GF diet buy them up, they will consider offering them full time.

In the mean time, I've gotta stock up!!

~En-Joy!

Graduation

It is the end of an era: Kit-Kat graduated.

The day was not without the usual amount of drama. It just seemed to be a little more than usual, but I don't know why.

I will try to list these in order:

I had a dream that I was choking to death and woke to find out that I actually was. Because I didn't have to work,  I slept late, apparently sleeping through my allergy meds. I dreamed I was back in majorette camp, with all the girls I had been a majorette with and our trainer. One thing that may seem odd to some, but made perfect sense to us, was running. She would make us run laps around the outside of our bandroom/gym building. It was for endurance and in the end, helped more than I ever imagined.  I always hated it though and would develop a nasty stitch in my side about the 3rd lap. Thing was, if you didn't complete the lap, she would add another for everyone. I start hacking and coughing right away and I stop. Everyone running by me is asking if I am okay, I can't tell them that I am choking, They are trying to help me run. I finally manage to tell them I am choking and then I wake up to find that I was! I had coughed to the point that I couldn't stop and my nose was so stopped up no air was getting through. I thought I might pass out before I got to the sink for some water. Scary.


"W" was sent with his crew to the furthest corner of the state to work on a new site. Sent early...like earlier than he should have been up. I can only imagine how groggy he was with so little sleep, despite our best efforts to both be in bed early. He called me from the road, a very pleasant surprise. I never get to speak to him first thing in the morning.  He said he thought he'd surprise me, but I know keeping him awake had something to do with it.  After his frustrated little rant earlier this week, he was ready to put his hands around the neck of one of two less than stellar employees, quite possibly the yahoo that dropped a wrench off the top of a 300 foot tower just a few days earlier. I reminded him that I got paid this week if he needed bail money.

After I spoke to W, I called my Mother, who is still recovering from her ablation. We talked for an hour. Ten days out of a surgical procedure on her heart and she is doing great! She gets tired easy right now, but is getting stronger and stronger. We talked about all the funny things she said after her procedure...bless her heart.

After our hour long conversation, I debated on going to get coffee, but am really glad that I did. I ran into an old majorette pal at Waffle House! We talked for an hour there at the counter, over coffee and an All Star breakfast. I brought her up to speed on what had been happening in my life and she brought me up to speed on hers. As I reconnect with more and more people from my past, I am beginning to wonder if this is the "life flashing before my eyes" that everyone speaks about when they are about to die and I am getting mine this way.

Then I went to Wallyworld. I had a few things like soap and shampoo to pick up. As I got in the car twenty minutes later, my phone went off and it was Kit-Kat who had been at my house for the past thirty minutes! She was threatening to break in since I had not answered any of her calls. She was coming to retrieve her graduation gift from Mother. When I arrived, she, her boyfriend Cotton, and two friends, were sitting my driveway.  She was grateful for the generous gift Mother had sent. Because her cap hung off her head at baccalaureate like it was stapled to the back of her head, I gave her advice  on a simple way to alter it so the mortarboard laid flat. A pet peeve of my own Senior sponsor when I was in high school. I was her teacher's assistant then and she ranted for the whole month before graduation about how girls never wear their cap properly with the point between their eyebrows and the mortarboard flat on top, not the back, of their heads. I showed her a quick fix for that. She wanted to know what I was wearing. I told her that I needed her help identifying W's niece, because I had not seen her since they were park league cheerleaders in 6th grade. She asked why I needed to know who she was. Oops. I had not planned on telling anyone about W just yet. Things are still new and undefined. I tried to explain without going into any detail. She squealed, grabbing me and hugging me tight: "I'm so happy for you! You deserve someone who will treat you nice for a change"

Before long, it was time to start getting ready for graduation. I was a little apprehensive, given the date, and how I would be in the presence of D/H (which no longer stands for "Darling Hubby" by the way, but in the interest of continuity, I will continue to call him that for the purposes of this story). Just as I was putting on my new (size SIX) LBD. my phone went off.  It was The Boss calling to verify that she had the only spreadsheet with the pre-orders of the Nationally Known Coffee Shop customer that I manage. I get this spread sheet every six weeks from the Production Manager that contains the customers forecast for the upcoming six weeks. I key all the "production stocking" orders so that they pop up in production report to be filled. Then every week the buyer from the Nationally Known Coffee Shop sends me the actual order, which I adjust accordingly and submit to the warehouse for pick up. Each forecast is submitted with a job number which I use to match the pre-orders to the actual PO's. The problem with this is that the job numbers didn't match a single pre-order. I couldn't answer any of her questions without seeing it and everyone else involved had gone home. I  could not explain the discrepancy and the Production Manager offered to call some people at home to straighten it out.

Time was ticking, so as I dashed out of the house and jumped in the car, I had only 30 minutes to make it down the valley to the church.

Still plenty of time, I kept telling myself.  Everything was going relatively smoothly

until

my gas light came on

Great.

I could see myself on the side of the road, missing Kit-Kat's graduation because I had forgotten a very important errand....to buy gas.

Julz called to find out where I was. The church was filling and they were holding my seat. I quickly explained my dilemma. When I panic, my Drama Queen gene rears it's ugly head. (Try not to cry, try not to cry...) "Calm Down Mother" was her reply. "If you run out of gas, I will come get you, it's going to be okay." I prayed for what seemed like ten miles (but was actually only 2 or 3) that the Lord drop a gas station on this curvy country road.  A block from the church, a gas station appeared and I happily pulled in. As I pumped my few dollars worth of gas,  young man tried to sell me some very expensive meat from a freezer in the back of his truck. "No thanks," I replied, "I'm a vegan" (Forgive me Lord for lying to that young man that I really had no time to deal with)

I pulled up at the church, parked my car, and dashed inside. I walked into the sanctuary, along with the graduates. We were seated in the balcony, on two rows. My former in laws, Julz and "Ricky Martin" and me on one row, The First Wife, her husband and boys, Cotton, Tigger and D/H behind us. From our vantage point, Kit-Kat seemed very far away.  By now, several classmates had bedazzled their caps, some with their initials, some with little designs. One with an intricate gold design that covered the entire surface of the cap. But it made them easily identifiable.

All the graduates carried a little plastic ball, that they handed the principal as they shook her hand. Last year, at Tigger's graduation, the teachers were scrambling to find something to put them in. This year, they came prepared with a basket, but it wasn't quite big enough. By the time Kit-Kat handed her ball off, there were several rolling around the stage, hers included.

We left our seats during the singing of the alma mater, my former father-in-law anxious to beat the rush. I took only a moment to hug Tigger, remind him that I loved him, that he would always be my son, no matter what happened, and that I would always be there for him. I teared up, turned, and walked away.

I called W as I walked back to my car. He was still on the job site and not very happy. His crew had gone to "motivate" the crew from another company. The other crew sounded completely bumfuzzled as to what needed to be done and had pretty much left all the difficult work for W's gang.  It was nearly 8:00 pm and he was having to spend the night. Not a happy camper, but my call came at just the right time and he could focus on me instead. 

He asked if the graduation went well, to which I replied that it did. "Are you okay?" he asked. He knew what the other significance to the day had been. It was weird, but I realized not only had I not thought about it, I didn't really care. D/H had looked uncomfortable, and unhappy, and for the first time in a really long time,  I didn't really care what he was thinking. For the first time since all this had happened, I felt sorry for him instead of me.  "Yeah" I responded " I'm good."

W promised to call me back when he got settled into the hotel. That gave me time to get home as well. I sent him the picture of Julz and me after graduation that was taken with my phone.  He shot back "His loss, my gain."

And with that, I graduated.

Talledega Nights

Well it is that time again....

It's a Talledega race weekend.  Ugg.

Talledega is only 45 minutes from my home along the same stretch of I-20. Twice a year for 3 whole days, life is unbearable. But the tourist money is good, so I guess I shouldn't complain.

"Welcome Race Fans" banners and flags will be everywhere.

The RV's and the Winnebegos and other motor coaches pulling trialers with grills and hot tubs started arriving yesterday.  This evening, traffic may very well be at a standstill.The locals (and that stretches all the way out to folks in Birmingham) make use of backroads to get around and avoid the traffic. 

Grocery stores will be packed, as tourists buy those last minute race snacks. One won't be able to get into a local restaruant, like Cracker Barrell and Waffle House. Oh, and guess what: my county STILL doesn't sell beer on Sundays, Praise Jesus.  Heathens. Shop for it on Saturday night like the rest of us Baptists.

I don't have Miracle League this weekend (we do schedule around it) so I will be in hibernation.

In honor of the upcoming nights in Talledega, I present this clip from Talledega Nights, featuring my brother, Dooder. Look for him on the left side of your screen. He is the fella sitting next to Michael Clark Duncan (Lord rest his soul) on the platform.

Yes, we know he looks like Dale Earnhardt. That irony was not lost on the film makers either.

Pardon the language, y'all.

~En-Joy

Uninspired

I know this is where I usually share my Weekly What I Wore but I've been sort of unispired of late.

But you can still take a look at some of the other interesting, inspired, thrifty,  fashionistas over here at The Pleated Poppy.

I haven't really felt like shopping for new clothes in my new smaller size. The size 8 dress pants I just bought no longer fit anymore. A coworker commented, just yesterday, about them falling off of me when I walk. But I'm afraid to buy any more until I "settle". I know that I will never be a size two, but why be stuck with a closet full of clothes I can't wear? I've already had to deal with that once this quarter.

So for now, I am suspending my Weekly What I Wore Wednesdays until things level off.

 

Long Cool Woman - The Hollies (Distant Light Epic Records) 1972

~En-JOY!

Lovely Lakeside View

...only this is not a lake. This is the street in front of my house, draining into the lot across the street.

Pray for Central Alabama, currently facing record flooding.

Wow! Has It Been Thirty Years?!

Monday. March 24th marked the 30 year anniversary that The Breakfast Club met for detention.

It actually tells you that it is March 24, 1984 in the film. I never noticed, which is surprising, because I notice all sorts of things in films.

Some other notable films from 30 years ago include

Footloose
Police Academy
Splash
Romancing the Stone

I loved Romancing the Stone, until someone had mentioned how much they thought I looked like Kathleen Turner.  Okay, so I did, and still do, a little. I admit it. I really wish I had her voice. Why else do you thing they picked her to be the speaking voice for "Jessica Rabbit?"

Though it wasn't released until February 1985, Monday, radio stations and water cooler cliques all over the country were talking about The Breakfast Club. 

I can relate to the nostalgia.

Thirty years ago, I was a Junior in high school.  If I could pick one year to go back to and revisit, it would have to be 1984.

I had good hair.

 

 I had a cute boyfriend, who adored me
(why hey there Brown Eyes)

 I was about to be named the majorette squad captain.

I weighed 110 pounds and was in the best shape of my life.

Really, who wouldn't go back? 

I'm not sure I would want to "live" there again. The person I've become is a result of the things that I have faced in those thirty years.  Lessons learned, obstacles overcome, losing the one I love, finding myself.

Sometime in the future, maybe I will get the chance to visit myself back then. There are times that I think maybe I aready have, giving myself messages to help me along.

I wonder if I am the elderly lady I met in 1987,when I was a golden tanned lifeguard, who commented on the awful effects of the sun, showing me her deeply scarred forhead underneath her turban.

I wonder if I am the woman sitting next to me in the abuse counselor's waiting area in 1995, who leaned over and told me that I "will be better off without him," then got up and walked out.

I wonder if or when I may "run into myself" again.

For now, I leave you with an oldie, but a goodie...

~En-JOY


Romancing the Stone ~ Eddy Grant 1984

Post Mortem of a Marriage: Moving On

Despite the fact that I've posted some tragic and painful things everyday this weekend, my weekend was FABULOUS!

I think that writing is moving out the negative feelings and making room for positive thoughts. These are obviously benefitting me, and others are noticing the difference.

Most surprising is that the house remains clean with little to no effort. None of my stuff mysteriously goes missing. I have enough groceries to last for another month, maybe more. I have a substantial, positive balance in my account, (Or at least I did until I paid my attorney) and ALL the bills are paid.

I've had nearly everyone I've encountered this weekend tell me that they can see how much weight I've lost, and that I look great! One even remarked that it had to have taken off ten years!

I owe thanks to my friends, who keep me busy and keep me going.  They apparently made a pact in the very beginning to not leave me home by myself. Their plan is working perfectly. I've had something upbeat and fun to do every weekend. One passes the duty off to another seamlessly.

Sundays are a little tough. D/H and I would spend them cuddled up on the couch watching t.v. Even the last Sunday we spent together. Now I am alone with my thoughts on those days and the melancholia sets in .

Ironically, I have reconnected with a few people from my past, and had lengthy conversations with them over the past few days. I spent most of Sunday chatting on the phone. As we laughed over old times and new, I felt the sadness slip away.

 All those who I have spoken with these past few days seem to be in agreement on one thing, and though I only know of two who actually know each other, I've heard a version of this advice from them all.

They keep telling me to "go back to the Joy they knew from back then."  The confident, smart, witty, tough, opinionated girl they all once knew. The one that told it like it was, no matter how ugly, but still had compassion in her heart to spare your feelings. The one who made friends in every clique and saw them for who they were, not what they could do for her. The girl who stayed behind after the party to help clean up. The girl who's smile lit up the entire football stadium when she twirled.

I'm not sure where I left her. So much in my past has changed me.

But I can find her again.
And to do that
I must move on

Post Mortem of a Marriage: Time Heals All Wounds

I have been dealing with my life after marriage for nearly a month today.
It has consumed my waking hours and haunted my dreams. I know that everyone thinks that I am crazy for putting so much of my personal life out here this way, but the writing has been cathartic and healing. Purging all my negative emotions and purifying me.

Now it is time to move on.

Too much water under the bridge now. I know too much about the man I am (unfortunately still) married to, and it disturbs me.

What is most disturbing was that I let a passive abuser into my life. A passive abuser is one who does damage in other ways than becoming violent or physical. They hold your emotions hostage.
And what was worse, maybe I was becoming one myself.

Let's look at the warning signs that I've recognized so far.

Intensity and High Involvement: Becoming involved in every aspect of ones life quickly and going over board to fit into this person's daily life. Wanting to be involved in your hobbies,  your sports team, your church activities, or going over the top with outings or dates. D/H wanted to spend every waking hour with me, and probably could have had we not both worked.  He wanted to go where I was going, and didn't mind sitting around and waiting on me. He was more than willing to drop whatever he had planned and change his plans to mine. I was flattered that he wanted to share so much of my life. He was raised in my church so I took it as no surprise that he was so willing to get involved in church so quickly and so completely. He embraced everything about it and we went every time the doors were open. He rededicated his life to the Lord and was rebaptised. We were in charge of our Sunday School department, in the choir, on the prayer team. We were active members for about 5 years before the problem that made us leave our church home. I later learned that he had done this with First Wife as well.

Pressure for Early Commitment: The abuser wants to lock you in and make sure that he has you.  D/H had told me he loved me only 2 weeks into our relationship. I could feel things going that way too. I remember we were both afraid to tell each other that. He had said that he was holding back from telling me because he didn't want to be hurt again. Within a few months, we were shopping in the mall when he pulled me into a jewelry store and asked me to pick out a ring. I knew that it was too fast, but I was in love. Now don't think that I married him right away. We dated two more years before tying the knot.

Being "Too Good to be True": If something is too good to be true, it usually is. But as grandiose ideas or claims never pan out, that is the time to start asking yourself, "Am I being had?" I remember thinking "How lucky am I to have found this man?!" But somehow, the things that he told me would never quite materialize. He would make great plans, and tease me with them to raise my anticipation. But something would always come up, so that he'd never actually have to deliver. And he always had a great excuse,  an unexpected bill, or a bounced check, that I would believe. He always knew what to say and when to say it. A real smooth talker.

When he carried me in to the jewelry store to pick out a ring early on, he had said, "Anything you want! Well, within reason of course." Then he sent me out into the mall to sit and wait while he spoke to the salesman. Of course financing didn't come through, but he was too embarrassed to tell me, eventually blaming First Wife for ruining his credit. I should have run right then.When he eventually did get a ring months later, I wound up paying it off myself.

Need for Constant Contact: Calling or texting constantly to keep them on your mind. D/H and I would talk on the phone until the wee hours every single night. He would be the first voice I heard in the morning, when he called to make sure I was up after our long gab-fests, and the last voice I heard before going to bed. Had cell phones been popular then, I'm sure that he would have texted me "I love you's" all through the day. He was always on my mind, and he had made sure that he would be.

Isolating One from Family and Friends: This one you don't really notice at first. Some people will start falling away gradually. Others will leave suddenly. Or the new partner will begin to convince you that your friends are really not your friends and that you should stop hanging around them. This is because he begins to realize that your friends may just have his number and can still influence you to leave the relationship.  In the beginning, D/H was always willing to hang out with my friends for free food and drink,. But soon he started coming up with an excuse to not be around them anymore, or would behave in a manner that would cause us not to be invited back.

Even worse were his efforts to edge my own daughter out of my life. When we met, she was eight. The very first night I let her meet him, he helped her with a school project. He was kind and sweet and she liked him instantly. She was smitten from the start. After we married, and got custody of the kids, we set about being a family. But then things changed. The sweet relationship she once had with D/H  became hostile around the time she turned 12. Former Alabama standout and Big Oak Ranch founder John Croyle always says that " you can't put anything over on a twelve year old" and he must have been right. She started begging to stay with friends rather than come home. She would openly argue with D/H, and I found myself between them on more than one occasion.  Because twelve was also the time when most girls go "boy crazy" I just wrote it off as normal teenage angst. But I guess she was starting to see through the cracks in his facade and could see the real man peeping out from behind it. Peeping being the operative word.There were some disturbing allegations, based on what I now know was his porn addiction, but he easily explained away. She was having relationships with older boys, and seemed to do anything, short of murder, to be with them. At the time, two other local girls had accused their stepfathers of the similar things. The police feared a trend was forming, but launched an investigation any way. I had been his staunchest defender, and our family had as well. I knew this man as well as I knew myself. He would not prey on anyone, much less my own child; a child that he loved and was raising as his own. The charges were dropped and we struggled to move forward. It did a number on my psyche. It affected "alone time" as the thought of him propositioning her would creep up from the back of my mind when we were together.  Her behavior deteriorated as well. Before long, she had asked to go live with her dad. We had Tigger and Kit-Kat to raise and the constant bickering caused a constant unhealthy tension in our home. D/H convinced me that it was all for the best. Let The Ex be a parent for a change. I took her to him, and things settled down for a while. But The Ex was ill-equipped to handle her. It wasn't long before the courts put her back in my custody, and everything started again. She moved out as soon as she graduated high school. Our relationship has never been the same.

Emotional Blackmail: Behaving negatively to achieve desired results. It started innocently enough.  D/H used to stick out his bottom lip like a little boy and give me the sad kitty eyes (okay, that's a Shrek reference) when he couldn't get something or do something that he wanted. He looked so adorable, I'd quickly cave and submit to his whim to make him happy again.  Big mistake. It only escalated in more and more negative behavior.

Need for Control: There is a constant need to be in control of every situation. Even the ones that he can not control. Control over our time, money, the car, and so on. On more than one occasion, we were down to driving just one car. Three times in our marriage, we spent a year carpooling. That would control how I spent my time as well. But the main way that D/H maintained control was by controlling our finances. While we did have separate checking accounts, he was always trying to whittle mine down by asking for money constantly. He never had any money left after he got paid. That was a huge mystery, because his take home pay was more than mine. He was almost always short something on his half of the mortgage payment. The utilities (which I have since learned are not that bad) were always behind, or worse, about to get cut off. I never got to see those bills, so I was left to wonder what was going on. I would ask pointed questions (Are you gambling? Do you have another family I don't know about? What are you doing with your money?) but he would always have an answer. I am not certain when he stopped balancing his checkbook but he was always overdrawn and looking to me to bail him out. The pay-day loan situation grew out of that. At first, it was just to get him by until his next pay day, but it spiraled out of control quickly. I would pay them off twice a year with my tax return and my company bonus, but he would always go back. I never really thought about it before now, but this was an attempt to bring me under some sort of control. Limiting our finances so that we stayed stuck in the rut....together. I would be mad at first, but then we would pull together and work it out. I was happy that this year we were finally starting to see light at the end of the tunnel. Too bad it was just one of his mistresses driving the train.  I am certain this is where his money was really going...to keep wining and dining the trashy women he was seeing.

Playing the Victim: Everything that has happened to him is someone else's fault. He just can't catch a break. He has nothing but bad luck. He's insistent that he has been wronged by life in general. Such was the case with D/H who seemed to find fault with most things in his life. In the beginning, it worked to his favor. It was him and me against the world and I was happy to take up my sword and follow him into battle. But as time went on, he never seemed to find anything positive. Always focusing on the negative. I also learned that this was how he manipulated people, as in the very first lie he told me that hooked me in. The lie about Old Flame. When this new relationship ultimately goes South, he will blame it on someone else, anyone, other than himself.

Lying To You or About You: Just as D/H had used the lie to Old Flame to hook me in, he used lies or half-truths to make his situation seem far better or worse than it really was in order to manipulate the outcome. Even not telling someone a lie, but not sharing the truth is a form of a lie, like not telling me that the utilities were behind. Or the lies he told me when he was actually with his mistresses. He was very adept at embellishment and would add things to his story to help move it along. Like the story that I was cheating on him. I have always been faithful to the vow that I made to him before God. But it made what he did, seem not so bad to others. Tit for tat. Or the lie that surprised me the most: that we were "having problems."  I was shocked to learn that he had told this lie consistently this past year. BUT  WE NEVER HAD PROBLEMS. Yes, we did have challenges that we faced.. That is what marriage is about, overcoming things together. But we never had problems. That must be the difference between a positive perspective and a negative one. Or his current quest to convince others that I am now "crazy" or "unstable." This was to aid in his "clean getaway. No, I'm not crazy. He just wasn't man enough to face me. Now that our friends know the truth, I am no longer the villain. He is, as is his mistress, who knowingly pursued the relationship. He even managed to get her to lie to me for him on the day that he left. A month out from his leaving, people now feel comfortable enough to approach me and tell me the truth. Things that he had said. Things (and women) he had done.  I'm learning something new and disturbing every day.

Difficulty Cooperating with Others: Someone who prefers to "just do it themselves" rather than working with others, because "people get on their nerves" or they can do it "better their way" are really control freaks.  They always have to be right, win the argument or feel they are in control of the situation  D/H once told me that he loved his job because he didn't "have to deal with people." He hated having to wait on customers. I have a job where I deal with upset customers and staff, all day, every day, but I love it and I am good at it. That is not for everyone. I understand that. But D/H's bosses and coworkers were always jerks and idiots. Always. He never had anything positive to say about any of them. Ever.

Also, D/H always had to be right and when he was wrong, he'd never willingly admit it. It was like that episode of "Happy Days" where Fonzie could not admit that he was wrrrrrr..... wrrrrrr.... wrrrroooonnng.  He would, however, use his apologies as emotional blackmail on me. He'd hang his head and tell me that I was right, and he was sorry and he'd never do (what ever behavior) again.

Few or No Friends of their Own: When you live in a small town, nearly everyone is kinda your friend at one point or another. Having one good best friend is pretty standard. But when those who are closest to him suddenly disappear and his time is freed up to spend with you (but not your friends) its time to start asking questions. D/H quickly traded out all of his friends for all of my friends. He seemed to always be having a falling out with his friends. We would no longer see these  men and he always had an excuse for moving them out of his life. Over the years, he had many short-term friends, many of which were fair-weather at best. But his circle of friends was constantly changing. Even his two closest friends, who served as groomsmen in our wedding, were no longer in our lives. But that didn't matter to him.  In the beginning he was always willing to go out with my friends or hang out with my friends. Eventually, he would come up with excuses to no longer want to be around them either. Unless there was food. Free food would always get his attention. But he would just eat and then be ready to go.

Road Rage: This one kinda surprised me, but trust me, it fits. I would often joke that I knew exactly how I was going to die and when I went, D/H would be behind the wheel. He had to be faster than everyone, be in front of everyone and drive dangerously, at high speeds, everywhere we went. He always had to drive. When we were dating, being a passenger was not a problem, but once we were married, I rarely got to drive. Then he would speed, follow too close, pass to close and so on. He wrecked both of my Mustangs within 3 months of one another. Both total loss accidents. One was not his fault. A man cut him off in traffic going to work. That D/H was in his blindspot because he wasn't going to let him over is a distinct possibility. The second a man was coming from a cross street and pulled out I front of him. Again, the possibility exists that D/H sped up so that the car wouldn't get in front of him, because I had seen him do this with my own two eyes.

Cheating Partners: The more cheating partners a guy has, the bigger the red flag. If no one was ever faithful to him, what does that tell you?  I had fallen for this myself. According to him both his High School Girlfriend and First Wife had cheated on him. How could these women had cheated on the poor, sweet, man? And now, supposedly, I was a cheater too.

Perfect segue to ...

Projection: they begin accusing YOU of behaviors they themselves are guilty of. D/H started telling all our friends that  I was cheating on him.  When I would work over to cover someone's shift, I was actually off having an affair. When I was out on one of many volunteer projects, I was having an affair. Actually, he would use those times to meet his mistresses. Of course, the fact that his latest mistress was trying to convince him of this too,  so he would leave me sooner, may have played a part.

Shunning: The Old Silent Treatment. When D/H was mad, he would clam up and give me the old silent treatment, even when he was in the wrong. He used to tell me that it was best that we not talk so he wouldn't say something he would regret later.  I will admit, I sometimes employed this tactic too. But as you can see, I'm a talker. I wanted to talk over what ever issue we were having and get it out in the open.

Dismissing What is Important to You:  Your job, your hobbies, your friends, your family, your dreams, your goals....what is worth losing to satisfy his need for attention. Well that is what he wants. He will probably complain that it takes too much time, costs too much money, or is just plain stupid. The only examples that comes to mind are church and Toastmasters. Church was important to both of us, but he eventually stopped going, for one reason or another. Then he made it hard for the rest of us to go. Keeping us out late the night before, Planning things that would interfere with worship  Letting everyone sleep in, I kick myself for letting that happen.  I joined Toastmasters in order to improve my public speaking ability. I was presenting an award every year at our national meeting  and TM helped me to collect my thoughts, and speak intelligently on nearly any subject. Those in the group would also give advice on tone and voice quality. This helped with my job, because, well, have you ever spoken to someone from Alabama on the telephone? Enough said.  But the local TM meeting was on a week night, What on earth were they going to do for dinner? It really became a problem when we were down to one car. When I began experiencing health issues and wanted to reduce the stress by quitting my job, we "couldn't afford it" and he was unwilling to do what I needed to help.

Grievance Flipping: I call this the  "One Up" No matter what might have happened that day to me, D/H 's day was always worse.
Every.   Stinkin'.   Time.

As I started reading up on emotional abuse, I could not believe that I had traded one abuser for another. How could I have been so stupid! I had trusted him implicitly. I guess love really is blind. I was living with a con man!

I recognize all of these traits in the man who lived here as my husband.
I also see some of these traits in myself.

The difference is simple: I recognize there is a problem and that is the first step to any recovery,

But time, as they say, heals all wounds.

I am committed to improving myself in 2014 and I've already seen the positive results of the changes that I've made. Like the positive attention from others.

I"m sure that God has a plan for me. I am sure that He will send the right person into my life at the right time and he will be wonderful. D/H will be just a faded memory that only surfaces when I come across a photo I forgot to throw out, or channel surf by wrestling.

I hope it doesn't leave too big of a scar across my heart.

Post Mortem of a Marriage: First Wives Club

This picture is of me and Darling Hubby, seventeen years ago today. I am singing Alanis Morrisette's "Head Over Feet" to him. I had heard the song on her album and wanted him to hear it. The song described how he made me feel so perfectly. It would not become popular for a few more months.

When asked how we met, people told us that we had the sweetest story.

A little background. I had known D/H for a long time.  We both graduated from the same high school though given our age difference of five years, had just missed one another. His family went to my church.  Our grandmothers stood elbow to elbow in the choir every Sunday. As I sang in the youth choir, he sang in the children's choir. Our parents had all gone to school together. He and my little brother had several friends in common. I knew his people and he knew mine. Typical small town stuff.

My group from our small hometown, ran into his group from the same small town at a local watering hole, that was popular 17 years ago, but has long since shut down. I wasn't supposed to be there. I had decided to go and have one beer and if I ran into anyone that I knew, I would have two then call it a night. He wasn't supposed to be there. He had been at his parents house for dinner, when the neighbor invited him to come along. We ran into each other in the hall inside. Chatting with two of my little brother's friends, Darling Hubby got my attention by opening his wallet to a picture of Tigger and Kit-Kat, stuck it in my face, and blurted out, "These are my kids!"  The first words he had spoken to me in probably ten years and that was what he led with.

I had just ended a disappointing relationship with UPS Guy, that ended because I was a mother. UPS Guy just couldn't deal with that. I wasn't really looking for anyone. The breakup had been painful.  A minister friend, who called me out of the blue, had just prayed the night before that God would "send me my heart's desire"  I was looking for the "package deal," someone with children, just like me. And here he was. A sign from God. Over the years, I told everyone that he had the best pick up line I'd ever heard. Some weeks later, for Valentine's Day, D/H gave me a gold necklace that had "I Love You" stamped into the gold. The designer's tag read "Heart's Desire." Only then did I tell him of the minister's prayer. Another sign from God that we were meant to be.

I always left out the part about running into an old flame that night, who stopped to speak to us and hugged me. As Old Flame walked away, D/H turned to me and asked how I had known him. He told me of his distaste for this young man. Later in the evening, he returned from a restroom visit, agitated and red-faced.  He related a story that I didn't really believe, but he was so adamant that it had happened,  I was swayed into believing that it could have happened.

He said that he had run into Old Flame while in the restroom. That O/F had asked him point blank, "What are you doing here with that slut?!" D/H had, of course, defended me. "I ought to go back and kick his ass." he had said. He also got the male group of friends at our table riled up and they too wanted to kick O/F's ass, but thankfully he had left.  Over the years that D/H and I were dating, we would run into O/F here and there. Tensions were always high, and I was often afraid that things would get ugly and people would really get hurt. Finally one night, I had had enough and insisted that they mend their fences over a beer, which they did.

I had wondered about this for a long time. I remember how shocked I was that O/F had said this about me. We had parted amicably and there was no ill will between us, but D/H was so convincing, I couldn't help but believe him. I decided to contact O/F. He was easy to find. The conversation that followed shook me to my core.

O/F told me that he had also always wondered why things would turn tense when we ran into each other. Why D/H would become aggressive and in turn, he would have no choice but take a defensive posture. He was shocked to learn that I had been told this lie. "You were always special to me, " he had said, "I would never had said that about you, even if I had hated your guts." He went on to say that it was very sad that D/H had to go to such lengths for attention from a nice girl.

This was the lie that endeared me to him, and was the catalyst for our entire relationship. Darling Hubby, my defender, my knight in shining armor,  riding in on the white horse to save the day.

What do you do when you suddenly realize that your whole relationship was a lie?
It started with a lie, lies carried it along. and then it ended with a lie.

You find out if your situation was similar to the first go 'round.

THE MEETING OF THE FIRST WIVES CLUB IS CALLED TO ORDER

I had an appointment on the other side of town today and had an hour to kill, so I decided to drop by the office of The First Mrs. D/H. She was glad to see me and was glad that I was fairing okay. I asked her if I could ask her a few questions about the time that they were together and see if what I was being told was the truth or not.  She agreed.

I was told that he was "separated from service" from the Army because she was writing bad checks on post, and in the Army, a crime by one's spouse was as good as a crime by the soldier. LIE

TRUTH: Taking all the money out of the checking account to go party with the other soldiers, while your wife is unknowingly trying to buy groceries or pay the utilities will also get you drummed out of the army.

I was told that their marriage had broken up because she had been unfaithful. LIE

TRUTH: He had actually cheated on her with a girl that he had worked with. (Sound  familiar?) After they separated, only then did she see her high school boyfriend, but then decided her family was more important and went back. I had known a version of this story, where the timeline of events was flipped to his favor. After all, there is a little vein of truth in every lie, otherwise it wouldn't be plausible.

She said that she even thought that her and D/H would get back together during the breakup that led to our relationship. He has wanted to see the kids and invited them over. She brought dinner from McDonalds. They had a nice visit. I vividly remember this dinner, as I was there. When they "unexpectedly" showed up, D/H asked me to hide in his bedroom. I hid there for nearly 2 hours.

I was told that she went out for cigarettes one night, and was later caught in bed with the aforementioned 18 year old friend. She had said "this isn't what it looks like" and the boy was so scared he jumped from the second floor balcony to escape. LIE

TRUTH: Yes, she told him that she was going for cigarettes, because that was the only way she could leave, and D/H stay with his own children. She was found at the apartment of those friends sometime later, but with a large group of people. He attempted to show his ass, and was shown the door.

I was told that she sat on her behind, refusing to work, all while he worked two and three jobs to support them. LIE

TRUTH: He didn't want her to work, but stay home with the children. When the opportunity did arise for her to work in the evenings, he refused to watch his own children.

I was told that she wouldn't let him see the kids. LIE

TRUTH: She would have gladly let him see the kids, but he never called to see them or even ask about them. She said about the same time that she found out about me, was about the time he started calling her about the kids.

I was told that the trailer that they lived in while they were married was apparently  demolished by her drunk, drugged up, crack-head friends that were partying with her after he moved out. I had seen this place with my own eyes, as we cleaned it up to be sold.  Large holes in the walls, carpet torn up, broken mirrors, etc...   LIE

TRUTH: The damage was actually caused by D/H, who would come home, at all hours, in a drunken stupor and lose control.  She had no money to repair it, so everything stayed as it was.

That he had heard that she was telling people all over town that she was coming after us to get her kids back. LIE

TRUTH: The course of events that led to our later gaining custody were tragically true. She was grateful that they had a place to go that was safe, and said that it had been the best at the time. But when she was finally in a good place again and wanted to speak to D/H about it, he refused to speak to her. She said that at that point, all she could do was be patient and pray that it would eventually work itself out.

Some very familiar truths emerged as we talked. I had learned that he had been very controlling, wasting money, mooching off their friends, drinking heavily (another familiar story) and/or becoming violent only to promise to "change/go to church/stop drinking, etc...,  limiting her friends,  limiting access to money or the use of the car. Red Flags went up. More Warning Signs.  Though D/H had NEVER been physically abusive toward me, I too had ignored the signals that something was not quite right.  Had I had a passive abuser under my roof all this time?

When we would have an argument, he would eventually come to me, head down, sullen, and tell me that I was right. He wouldn't come right away, but he would eventually, feeding me the same lines about changing or doing things as I had suggested. Always.

I thought about how easily duped I had been. I didn't mind helping him pay bills, or buy things. I had even been dumb enough to pay his attorney the final payment on his divorce, several hundred dollars, so he could finally be free of her. My guess is that he realized that he drove this gravy train for as long as he could.

I had been harder to control. I was a strong, opinionated woman. I had built my confidence back with each crisis that we faced and won. Little victories that kept the bond between us firmly cemented. I never realized the pattern of crisis vs. victories until now. Even his four bleeding ulcers in as many years had become suspect. They always seemed to appear at times when things were tough and I now know that they were most likely caused by bouts of binge drinking with his buddies. I was recently embarrassed to learn that D/H would make a habit of never having any money at our local hangout and would cajole others into buying drinks for him. Often. Because I was trying to get his drinking under control, I would limit the amount of money I would bring with us, in hopes he would stop when the money ran out. But that never seemed to stop him. No wonder people would dread hanging out with us.

I had insisted from the start that we maintain our own bank accounts, something that saved me from financial ruin in my first marriage, just as it had protected me now. We never maintained a joint account, even separate from our own, though I had suggested it several times, to use to pay bills and make the house payment. He said that we would manage just fine with what we had.  We divided up the bills and each month he'd give me what he had to pay the mortgage.  There were many times when he would be short and I'd have to pony up the extra. But when utilities were behind, or worse, shut off, I became insistent that we open an account and both put money into it . He'd angrily remark how he would just give me ALL of his check and I could handle all of it myself. But he never did that. His money was his money, and my money was my money, and as they say, the twain shall never meet. I resigned myself to the fact that I had spoiled him in the beginning and that I had made him irresponsible. But it turned out to be much more sinister: controlling the cash flow (or the lack thereof) in the household was the only way to bring me under some sort of control. 

Every year, I'd sit with him before the tax preparer, seeing his W2 and be shocked that he made as much money as he did, but had nothing to show for it. I began to resent the fact that he never had money, constantly had his hand out, mooched off our friends and family, but would never tell me where it was all going. What he was telling me wasn't adding up to the evidence I was finding. He started hiding the bills so I wouldn't see them. I'd ask for them but he said that he'd "gone paperless" and didn't have time to pull them up for me. I was constantly having to fork over money. Each time he'd ask if I'd buy gas, or tobacco, or even toilet paper, the first thought in my head was always "Didn't I just buy that?". And yet every year we filed a tax form that showed we should have been living a more than comfortable life.

I listened to the woman I was let to believe was "a monster" in disbelief. All I could do was profusely apologize for all the nasty things that I thought about her all these years. I was shaking, I was so angry.  "It's okay," she had said, "you had no idea that you were being manipulated."  Tears welled up in my eyes. How could I have been so stupid?

She told me how much happier that she is now, and that I will be too. She promised to pray for me. "God has a plan for you, and you are going to be so much happier and better off without him."

MEETING AJOURNED

Post Mortem of a Marriage: The Early Days

This picture has sat on my desk for the duration of my relationship.  I've always loved it, because it depicts two young people, totaly smitten with one another, happy, and ready to face the world together.

The date, on the back reveals it to have been taken seventeen years ago tomorrow: January 25, 1997

This was when Darling Hubby first told me that he was in love with me.

 

 

That following Monday at work, several of us went to the local Chinese buffet. This was my fortune. I remember how we had all squealed and agreed that it was meant to be.  When I got the pictures back, I taped it to the front, and stuck it all in a frame. It has set on my desk to the left of my computer for the past seventeen years.

 

Did you know that Chinese fortune cookies are really an American invention?  The most popular story goes that Chinese immigrant, David Jung, living in Los Angeles and founder of the Hong Kong Noodle Company invented the fortune cookie in 1918. Apparently  David was concerned with all the poor he saw in the streets near his shop. So he created a cookie to pass out to them for free. Each cookie contained an inspirational verse written by the local Presbyterian minister. Not exactly ancient Chinese wisdom.  Kind of a let down, huh? 

 

 That just goes to show, you shouldn't take advice on life from a half-baked cookie.

 

 

 

 

One Day at a Time Sweet Jesus

That has been my theme for the last twenty-eight days.

Surprisingly, I am still alive. Strength has come from somewhere down deep. I know the Lord has put it there. The benefit of being in a continuous prayer state.  I'm just taking each day, one day at a time,

The first forty-eight hours I did not eat or sleep. From the time I woke up on 4:30 a.m. Friday morning, took my shower and prepared for work, until about 7:00 a.m. Sunday morning, every time I closed my eyes, my husbands face was all that I saw.  I used the time constructively, not wanting to sit still as long as the Lord was giving me strength. I packed all of his remaining belongings and stacked them in the corner of the living room, to make it easier for him to pack when he came for them.

When I did nod off Sunday morning, on the couch in the living room,  I had a dream that his mistress had broken in and was standing over me with a gun. A loud bang somewhere in the house, provided the sound effect for my dream. I woke up with a start, startling both of the cats, perched anxiously over me on the back of the couch.

Another strange occurrence is that I haven't really cried much.  I am told that I am a true Drama Queen, and when I was a child, I was known for my crying jags. Emotion overwhelms me and tears just begin to flow. But I have only had a few instances of true tears. I didn't really break down on the day that he left. I think that I was in shock. Looking back, maybe I was relieved.

The first true tears came on New Year's Eve, as I tried to fake being happy at a NYE party. Everyone was so sweet to me, and took turns making sure that I was dancing and having a good time. Everyone was doing a pretty good job keeping my mind off of it and keeping me occupied. But as the clock struck midnight, everyone kissed their partner and it hit me. For the first time in sixteen years, I would not be getting a midnight kiss.  My husband would be kissing someone else.  I fled to the bathroom and locked myself in a stall. Try as I might, the tears flowed. It wasn't long before I decided to make an early exit.

The other was on January 11th, when Darling Hubby backed the UHaul truck into our driveway.

That was the 17th anniversary of the day that we had met. I had always mentioned it to him and this year was no exception.

 "How fitting that today is the day you move everything left out of my life. The seventeenth anniversary of the day that we met.  I guess things have come full circle."

He stoically walked past me, and into the house.

I asked questions, that got mostly one word answers. Only what was necessary for the event at hand, Was this Julz's t.v. table or Tigger's. Where was a bag to put the bolts to Kit-Kat's bedframe. As he rolled down the door of the truck and started to leave, I tapped him on the shoulder and said, "No hard feelings?" He could not even look at me. He didn't even have the common courtesy to say good-bye. I instantly came unglued. My step-dad held me back, as I screamed from the porch, what a coward he was, and didn't have the guts to face me. He just drove off. The whole thing took less than two hours.

I laid in the floor in a heap, sobbing and screaming. How could he just throw me away like this? I had invested nearly fourteen years in our marriage and this woman had enticed him away in just a few short months.

Where did I go wrong? Several friends have chalked the situation up to a middle life crisis. I had never thought of us as "middle aged," being that I was perpetually eighteen in my head. That may seem ridiculous to some, but it is that thought seems to keep me young. Forty-two was around the right age for a mid-life breakdown. He needed someone to stroke his ego again, and make him feel like the knight in shining armor, riding in the white horse to save the day. For that he needed someone who was poor, and even lower in class than himself.  Why else would he pick someone living in government housing? This would make him appear somewhat affluent and could even impress her family. Someone so desperate for love, they were willing to steal him away from his family. Someone who was resigned to being the doormat for him to eventually wipe his feet on when he tired of her, just as he had done with me. After all, if they will cheat WITH you, eventually they will cheat ON you.

I'm just glad that I'm not having to run into him at the local Walmart, like we always did with our exes. I'm not sure I will ever have the occasion to run into him, now that he's moved an hour away. I'm not sure how I would react if I did see him.

 I'm also not certain he will recognize me , as the stress and turmoil has caused me to lose over 15 pounds.  I am now just eight pounds from my goal weight of 140. My cardiologist will be so proud when I see him next month. I came across the jeans I was wearing the night I first met him. They almost fit. Glad I hung on to them.

I have a close friend who lost her husband in an accident over a year ago. She reminded me of the advice that I gave her, almost daily, as she battled the demons from her own loss.  "Baby Steps" I would say, "take baby steps each day. Keep moving forward. It's okay to stop every once in a while. but don't step back. Keep moving forward."  Funny how this message would be exactly what I needed.

I am getting reports from mutual friends about the things he is posting about the situation on Facebook. 

The first was a long rambling post about "walking a mile in his shoes," and that there are "two sides to every story" and he was disappointed that he had to delete so many people he thought were friends because they chose to believe the "lies". He implied that I was manipulating the situation. He admited that was an ugly situation it was, but not to judge him for what he had done. He said that he had reasons for doing it the way that he did, and "those closest to him" knew why.

Maybe he means his mistress. I understand that she is steadily working to separate him not only from his children, but from the life he once had in our town. A red flag went up. That is the first tactic of an abusive partner, and after seven years of being married to one, I should know.  I am left to wonder what other signs that he may be missing  Or that she might be missing. I'm not sure who is using whom here.

Maybe he meant our friends. He had been telling them what he had been planning for the last month or so. He had some sort of dirt on everyone, so no one dared breath a word to me, for fear his allegations would cause problems in their own lives. They tell me that they are all sorry that they didn't clue me in sooner. All are in agreement that real friends don't treat friends this way.

I know that he did not mean his family either, who are all at a loss for words. They have apologized to me for his behavior. I have had them tell me that I will always be "their family" and have given me their support and prayers as we face this situation.  I am told that none of them want to ever meet the mistress. I will be a very hard act to follow. But all agree, I deserve so much better than a man who would stoop so low.

And my children? My girls, both angry and hurt, comfort me each time I see them. Julz has been separated from the siblings that she had so desperately wanted. Kit-Kat was sent off to live with her biological mother, whom she had no contact with for over ten years, and limited contact now. Only Tigger, my son hasn't spoken to me. He will not respond to my calls or texts. He was thrown right in the middle of that lion's den, because he didn't have anywhere else to go. He is a "going through the motions to avoid the emotions" kinda guy. I am certain that he is hurt by the whole situation, that went down just 24 hours before his birthday.

More recent rants from him over the last few days, lead me to believe that he is getting some sort of flack from somewhere. He posts about being "a grown up" and being capable of making his own decisions,  telling friends to delete him from their friends lists if they don't agree with his choice.  He said that he was "happier and more in love than ever in his life."

That stung.

HE was the one that made things ugly. HE left. HE cheated. HE wasn't going to tell me why. HE never told me that there was a problem. HE never told me that there was someone he wanted to be with more than me. HE never told me that he didn't want me anymore. HE was the one that threw away a 17 year relationship for some fling. How does that make ME the liar? How am I supposed to be manipulating everyone? HE was the one who was blackmailing everyone! I just don't understand. Is he trying to ease his own conscience?  I wonder when the consequences will catch up to him.

I grew up with a friend who is a lawyer. He handled the divorce of a coworker, so I called him the first week, right after New Years. He drew up the papers that day. On January 6th, I signed the "complaint."  He signed on the 10th.  Now we wait to come up with the money.

With the stroke of a pen, life as I knew it will end.

I met a friend for coffee earlier this week. I'm not sure what drew the attention to the thin, gold band on my left hand.  "So when are you going to take off your wedding ring?"
I looked down at it, and the indention worn into my finger. It was almost as if it was part of me now.

"I honestly don't know." was my reply.

Until then, I will be taking life just one day at a time.

When Life Hands You Lemons....

I've heard all my life that "when life hands you lemons, you make lemonade."

Not too long ago, I saw a meme on the Facebook page of a friend that read
"When life hands you lemons, throw them at your enemies."

I had chuckled a little, not realizing that I would have to follow that very advice a short time later.

The Friday after Christmas, Darling Hubby walked out. He left for another woman, that I didn't even know existed until that very day. Moved right out of our home into her apartment, and wasn't even going to give me an explanation. After nearly fourteen years of marriage.

And I had no idea he was even unhappy.

These past few weeks have been very eye opening for me.

I am told that he "didn't love me for a very long time now." He complained about me " not fulfilling my wifely duties," if you know what I mean. But for him, sex was all that mattered. He bragged to friends of numerous affairs over the past few years and how easy it had been to have them and still be home by dinner. One that lasted nearly two years was with the girl at our local pay-day loan office. Given his habit of frequenting this place, despite paying it off, several times, that one may still be going on. Others with women he had picked up along the way, here and there, having short dalliances over the years. He would even send me home early from our local hangout in our vehicle. Then he would pick up a girl, do her in the parking lot, and have one of the guys drive him home. Rumors swirled that they included my own friends and acquaintances.

The mistress, he met at a part time  job he had taken for extra money. She apparently had no problem with the fact that he was married, and pursued the relationship quickly. Normally, this person wouldn't have been a blip on his radar. Only pretty girls actually turned his head. Angelina Jolie was his "ultimate woman" and this one was far from that. But he had told his friends that he had needed to "trade me in for an ugly one" who would "depend on him" and "trust what he told her." Someone he would have no problem winning over  and who would not think enough of themselves to ever leave him if something better came along. And that is exactly what he found.

I am sure that she was flattered by the attention he paid her, as she was deeply unattractive. She was nearly as masculine as D/H, with a visible moustache, a tongue ring, and two teeth rotting in the front of her mouth. Short, dumpy, crude tattoos.  Over-processed, stringy hair, that was unkempt in nearly every photo I had seen. She looked far older than her age of 36. The epitome of what one would imagine "poor white trash" to look like, lacking both substance and class. She is also not the sharpest knife in the drawer, as the few texts and posts I've been sent are littered with simple spelling errors. None of his friends could believe what he could possibly see in her. One had said that he was obviously not only thinking with his (insert favorite euphemism for male sex organ) but seeing with it as well. I am sure that my husband saw a woman that he could quickly, and easily manipulate, just by showering her with compliments. As luck would have it, just like me, she too was an Auburn fan. A match made in heaven.

 I am told that neither friend that he usually watched Auburn football with, had seen him all season.  There was only one place he could be.  I shudder to think of the 15 minute conversation I had with him after this year's miraculous Iron Bowl win.

He complained that the house was a wreck and that I "couldn't cook." I worked a full time job.  Actually, I worked more than a full time job. I was the assistant manager of customer service for a national corporation. A ten hour day was pretty much the norm, Of course I never felt like cooking when I got home or had the energy to pick up around the house.  I'd collapse in a heap nearly every night. There were three other people here and yet I was the one expected to clean and cook. Funny, he had no problem sitting on the couch himself doing nothing, or walking around the clutter, nor did he have any problem spending my money each week for fast food. He always picked the restaurant. I had told him many times that if I could quit my job and stay home, the house would be spotless, and he'd come home to a hot, fresh cooked meal every night, but that wasn't our reality.

He said that I "didn't love him" and he doubted that I ever loved anyone but myself. I couldn't believe that he had said that, after all the trials that we had faced together. In sickness and in health. His two total-loss car accidents, his bleeding ulcers, his fall from the roof; I stood by each time, terrified that I would lose him. Of all the times that I had given him pep talks about making things happen if we pulled together, convincing him that there was always a better way, or constantly making sacrifices to pay off some poor decision on his part. But I thought we were making it work. We were building a life together.  I thought of the pizza he had me buy for us the night before all this. And of kissing him good-bye that Friday morning, just as I had EVERY MORNING for the better part of fourteen years.  How easily he threw that all away for a woman he'd only known less than four months.

When exactly did the man I thought I fell in love with and married, turn into this stranger in my home?

When our relationship was new, it was grand. I would physically hurt when I was not with him. I could not wait to see him, or even speak to him again. We would stay up for hours talking and then have to struggle through work each day for lack of sleep. Money was always tight, but I didn't mind paying for us to go out, or buying things for him. I made much more money back then, and the sacrifice was worth it. I could not imagine my future without him in it, and I often wondered what we would be like as grandparents, and retirees, exploring the world together.

He had seemed to have been burned badly by his first wife. He told me that she had cheated on him with the 18 year old brother of one of their friends. He had actually caught her in bed with the boy. I too had had my share of tragedy. In my first seven year marriage to a violent, abusive man who had made a game of cheating on me. He had even built a "love nest" to take his conquests back to.

But D/H and I were kindred spirits. I think that was what drew us to each other, and why we fell in love so quickly. He told me only two weeks in, that he was falling hopelessly in love with me, and I felt the same.  I was thrilled when we went to look at rings just a few months later. I guess I should have run when I found out that he couldn't finance one. That should have been my sign. But I reasoned that a ring was just an outward symbol of an inward attitude and I had the right attitude. I eventually got one, but in the end, I was the one who had paid it off.

 We had vowed to one another that we would never be unfaithful, agreeing that if we ever felt that we would cheat, that we would tell the other that we wanted out.  He told me that he had found "the love of his life," He called me his "trophy wife" and I worked hard to maintain that title. I wanted to make him proud. More than one of his friends told me that he was "in it for the long haul" and to not break his heart.  I guess that was why this was so shocking to me.  I had kept my promise. I guess to him, they were just words.

We have had our ups and downs, like any long term relationship, but we always pulled together to make things work. All I ever wanted was to make him happy, which was sometimes tough, given the way he would sometimes behave. A man should want to take care of his family. We struggled financially, due in great part, to all the poor decisions he was making. But I was happy that we were keeping our heads above water, not realizing that all the while he was shooting holes in the boat.

His only responsibility financially was to pay the utilities. We split the big bills like the house. I paid for my car, the auto insurance and the medical insurance came out of my check too. I bought the groceries and if we went out, I usually paid for that too. He would have to ask for gas money just a few days after he got paid.  He would huff and stomp around if I didn't have it to give him. I had my own gas to buy as well . but I often would make sacrifices so I could help him out. Then he would not only buy gas, but finagle soda, snacks, and dippin' tobacco as well.

I never could figure out where his money was going. Our friends wondered too. He would mooch off anyone who would feel sorry enough for him to pay. It was embarassing sometimes. People eventually stopped inviting us out.  He managed to alienate himself from several close friends. He had always pinned the blame on a fault of theirs, rather than any with his own

He made around 40k a year. I would see his W2 every year, and wonder where it all went.  I knew that the pay day loans were just money down a hole. Now I'm sure it was a ploy to continue seeing the pay-day loan mistress. I justified the premium cable package, and his premium cell phone plan as his perks, because "we couldn't afford to go out all the time."  I didn't mind taking us out every once and a while, because I benefitted from that too.

 I began to have problems with my blood sugar and blood pressure. Constant stress of managing people for eight to ten hours a day in a high pressure environment begins to take it's toll, I told him that I wanted to resign to take care of my health issues. That would free me up to be more of a homemaker than bread winner. I was told that we "couldn't afford that." I guess that situation has changed, as I understand that his mistress does not work, outside the seasonal security job where they met. Now he will be the main bread winner there. I gave him gas money at least 3 times a week. Now that he's tripled his drive, where will that money come from?  I guess that will be her problem now.

The more and more he shirked his responsibilities, the more and more I began to resent being intimate. I felt like I was "rewarding" him, all the while reinforcing the idea that it was okay for him to be so irresponsible. In the beginning we were like two teenagers, always looking for spare time alone. We were connected. Gradually, things started to change. He stopped romancing me. It became more like a chore that had to be handled like laundry. He became demanding and made crude comments constantly. Really romantic. He wasn't holding up his end of the bargain as far as Protector/Provider/ Head of Household was concerned. I felt like I was getting the short end of the stick.  "Time alone" became less and less frequent. It was rushed. I didn't enjoy it and neither did he. Wham-Bam-but-no-thank-you-ma'am. Like going through the drive thru of a fast food restaurant.  Order up...DING!

He had stopped actually brushing his teeth. He always felt that a quick rinse would suffice. His breath was unpleasant and he didn't seem to care. I couldn't stomach more than a quick peck here and there. When we were "alone" he wouldn't even try to kiss me, or he would jam his tongue into my mouth so forcefully, I'd choke on it. All I wanted was to be made to feel special, like his queen, not the scullery maid. Though I loved him, I began to resent him.

And then, there were the "allegations."  When my daughter was around 12, she had made a claim that he had "propositioned" her for a favor in return for not telling me something he had read in her diary. He denied this acusation. I remember him running into the bathroom and throwing up.  I did not believe her and neither did the rest of the family. Of course, two other girls at her school had recently done the same to their step-fathers, and this was the perfect middle school dramatic antics. But the experts at Children's Services had believed her and an investigation began, that was eventually dropped.  But true or not,  the thought of my husband, asking my daughter to perform this favor on him would often pop into my head whenever we were "alone."  I loved my husband very much, and even though I didn't believe it, this thought would make it nearly impossible to "be alone" with him.  This affected our "alone time" ever since.

I know this all led to him looking for "it" elsewhere. In a way I am glad, because I heard rumors that he had contracted an STD from the "Pay-Day Loan Girl" (which he vehemently denies).  But in the end it wouldn't have mattered if we had sex every spare moment of the day. He would have wasted the money and left anyway.

I later found out that he was "rolling" pay day loans, three to be exact. That is where you pay $90 for the privelege of holding $500 every two weeks. You do the math. Don't get me wrong. If I had to have money, right this moment, I know I could go and "borrow" it right now. But it creates such a situation that spirals down really fast and you are caught in a seemingly endless loop of paying and borrowing, over and over again. I would dutifully pay at least one off twice every year (for the past five or six years now) with my bonus, but he would just turn around and start it again. I guess it was an excuse to go see "Pay-Day Loan Girl." We could have had a comfortable life, but it was like he was driving down the interstate, tossing money out the windows.

Recently, he chastised me for not helping him pay bills when I got my bonus this year. Instead, I had opted for a long anticipated minor cosmetic procedure that I would save for, but then wind up bailing us out with that money. As usual, I didn't know that he needed any help with bills. I had offered to give him some money to pay on his pay-day loan, He had flatly declined, so I paid for my procedure and nervously awaited the scheduled date.  I later learned that his mistress had met him at our local hang out the very week that I had my procedure. He had introduced her to our friends, who were stunned. Later, he admitted to one that he "knew that she was ugly, but that was okay"  Poor girl. She has no clue. He's just using her too. He had expected me to bail him out, yet again, and still leave me the day after Christmas.  Really glad that I spent that money on myself now.

Bills were always behind. More than once I would come home to find something cut off for non-payment. We would scramble to find the money and get it paid. It would make me very angry that he was letting our family down this way.  I guess it happened enough that he stopped telling me when things were behind.  I guess I was relieved that he did that, not realizing that this lack of communication over something so basic, was chipping away at the foundation of our marriage.

I was left owing nearly $800 in delinquent utilities, on the same weekend that we were to make our $800 house payment.  I discovered that he had not paid anything in a few months.  I guess all his money was supporting another household.

I'm not sure when the lying began, but I recently learned from his first wife, dubbed " The Monster" early on, that this was his pattern and she was surprised that I had not caught on sooner.  The story she told me differed wildly from the one I was led to believe all those years ago.  But in every lie there is a vein of truth. I had witnessed her bad behavior enough to know that she wasn't completely in the right either.  I had seen her behavior that led to our gaining custody of his children. I had always viewed this as "my mission, " to raise those children as my own. I guess the Lord considers that done now. Mission Accomplished.

But I began to question our entire marriage at that point. Had he lied to me all along?

He told me that he "didn't owe me any explainations."

No explaination for blowing up my entire world of nearly fourteen years and moving out while I was gone and slinking away.

He told me that "everyone knew it was over."

Everyone but the most important person: me.

That is all I can write right now. I am aching, much like it did in those early days.
I hope that I survive this.