Stand Back! I'm An Expert!

So many people that I know of have had issues with infidelity lately. Straight friends, gay friends, people are horrible to each other and seem to have no conscience when it comes to cheating.

As I was waiting in the lobby of the therapists office this week, I read an article about the different online sites where people can go for forums on different marital issues, where one forum will be for the spurned spouse and another will be for the cheaters and every now and then people will lurk on the cheater forum and find their "manhole", et cetera.

Dear f'n God! Is this high school???

There are people that hang out on these forums and act as these all knowing advice givers. Just because you have 2000 posts on a website doesn't give you a degree in marital therapy. It does, however, prove that you haven't seen the sun for months.

Perhaps I'm so incredulous regarding sites like this because it was a similar format where my daughter's molestation came to light.

Here is how this whole nightmare started.

Every now and then I go back and read the thread (which I HOPE AMONG HOPE to have parts read aloud in court). After reading the article on marriage sites like this, and knowing the facts that his manhole didn't willingly bring forth, it still makes me gap at how stupid vast swaths of the human race are.

"Let me give you my expert opinion. After all, I sell cigarettes and beer down at the One Stop. I should know!"

"Expert opinions" while knowing 25% of the facts are even more dangerous. No one even offered up the fact that she has a child of her own. And of course, her final post leaves it looking like she's ALL BETTER NOW THANKS!

I was astounded when someone commented that "no one has heard from the daughter yet", apparently thinking that having the victim of molestation comment to her daddy's girlfriend would be a stellar idea. Yeah, she's going for her psychiatry degree while popping popcorn down at the local cinema.

In fact, my daughter has read this thread. She wanted to know the caliber woman that would actually be taken in by her father.

"Oh my God", she concluded. "They're perfect for each other."

This Is Not My Beautiful Life

Within the past few weeks, I started actually paying attention to my Facebook account. I set it up before all this crap started and believe it or not, on the day when I found out the whole truth, I came home that evening to find that an old boyfriend had tracked me down on Facebook and wanted to be my friend.

HELL NO!

IGNORE! BLOCK! RUN SCREAMING IN THE OPPOSITE DIRECTION!

Since that time, I've had a lot of contacts with old friends from high school. It always starts out with their question "So, what's new in your life?"

Hmmmmmmm.

How do you approach that?

How, after not seeing someone for 22 years, do you immediately lay all the shit of your past two months at their feet and then say, "So, hows about you?"

No matter what, they will never believe that you haven't spent the past 22 years in and out of rehab, incarcerated for writing bad checks, sleeping in gutters, and making meth in your lovely claw foot bathtub. When you find yourself in the midst of a nightmare, inviting outsiders in can be less than easy.

I've just told people to come to this here blog and if they really want to know what's going on in my life, pop some popcorn and start in Mid-December. Maybe crack a beer and put your feet up. Might as well get comfy.

Right after it all hit the fan, I was quite insistant in letting mutual business acquaintences know why I was leaving my husband. Our car insurance representative got a little more than he bargined for when I told him why we were splitting the insurance up. The common reaction to initially finding out we are getting divorced is "Oh, sorry to hear it!" To which I've taken to replying "I'm not. I found out I was married to a pedophile. He admitted to me that he molested our daughter. Kinda makes getting a divorce a relief..." Yeah, I've gotten used to the jaw on the floor reaction. Our mutual tax preparer? Yeah, we had a half hour counseling session before we even broached the subject of taxes. Our old neighbor that fixes our copier at work? Completly incredulous. The phone calls I get for STBX at home from people trying to find him get my standard "He doesn't live here anymore and he's been charged with being a pedophile after molesting his daughter. Do you STILL want his cell phone number?" So far, no one has pursued it any further.

I'm so tired of him hiding like the cockroach that he is. The light of publicity and knowledge is not something he wants and it's something he so desperately deserves.

I refuse to hide from this. I refuse to act like we have done something wrong. I refuse to play into his face saving game.

At least when he talks to the insurance office, they'll get off the phone with him and perhaps have the desire to go wash their hands.

I swear, if they don't read the charges out loud in court on March 9th, I will personally stand up and shout them.

But until then, I will try to smile when I hear from old friends. I will try to take in their question of "So, what's up with you?" and not wince. I'll stand in front of the mirror and practice my lines:

"Oh...nothing much."

Any Interest Ladies??? Bueller? Bueller?

I almost shot milk out of my nose when my daughter showed me this. Another one of those gallows humor moments that I love her for.

This would definitely be the dating service my STBX would use. The resemblance is uncanny!