What I Have Learned Thus Far

Dearest S-D-T-B-X (Some Day To Be Ex),

On this most auspicious day, which will no longer be celebrated as our wedding day, I would like to discuss what I have learned about myself in nearly eleven months.

I have learned that we were perfect for each other, in the sickest sense of the phrase.

The last eleven months have made me examine what makes me tick. I have tried to figure out your clockwork mechanisms as well, but that only leads me down blind alley after blind alley.

I only have control over me. I only have control over the few square inches inside my skull. Everything else is a tangle of darkness.

I was the perfect person for you from the time I was three or four years old. I remember thinking the disordered and disjointed thoughts that every child of that age thinks. There has to be reasons for why things happen. Small children don't understand adult problems. When they are given away for their own safety and well being, they don't, on average, go into the entire socioeconomic and psychological benefits that they stand to gain by such an arrangement.

All they know is that they were given away. People give things away that they don't want. Things that are broken. Things that are damaged.

Correct thinking? Not for an adult it isn't. For a small child trying to make sense of the world? Perhaps.

I also remember, as a small child, coming to the realization that if you can give a kid away once, you can do it again.

Would I have ever been given away again? No. Did my child's mind realize that? No.

I remember being consciously aware of being a "good girl" before I even went to kindergarten. Not because I was afraid of being beaten or anything but for the simple fact that, if I was a bad kid I would be sent away.

Here is my foundation, laid bare. I was the kid in school that could be utterly gutted by a look from a teacher. If I didn't get a sticker on my paper in kindergarten and the kid next to me did, I would spend the rest of the day wondering what I had done wrong. (Do kids ever realize that maybe, just maybe, the teacher ran out of stickers?)

And it was always that... "what did I do wrong?"

Kids always place themselves at the center of the universe, that's what being a kid is. Now, place an incredibly insecure kid at the center of the universe and you will note that they will not feel that the sun rises and sets just for them. They will feel that if they don't do every single thing right and take on all the responsibility of the milky way, that everything will go horribly wrong and it will be because they are a screw up.

Anxiety much?

Yeah. Now flash forward a few years. As the child racked with insecurities and anxieties, I was the perfect mark for the pedophile disguised as my aunt's boyfriend. He was a predator and I knew that he had hurt other girls as well. I was just another in a long line but hey, I kept my mouth shut and I learned to stuff it all down inside of me so far that it only came out at night. Night time was when the monsters came whether real or in my head.

It pretty much sealed the deal on the whole anxiety/insecurity/self-esteem thing when I went to college and fell apart so badly that I ended up coming home at the end of the year and disclosing to my aunt.

When she called me a whore and said it was all my fault, it simply proved my hypothesis: I didn't matter.

Now, all of this boo-hooing and navel gazing can be very self indulgent. If I had the chance to go back in time and meet my "inner child", I would no doubt give her a swift slap upside the head. But as I have said, kids and teenagers have their own way of thinking. I don't come to my realizations lightly or with a song in my heart.

I come to my truths as a way of understanding how I could have endured seventeen years with you.

I learned to stuff my feelings from the time that I learned to walk.

Conflict is bad. Disagreements are bad. Having a voice is bad. And standing up on your own two legs when they've both been shattered is impossible.

See, I was the perfect girl for you.

For at least fifteen years of our marriage I put up with it. I put up with doing everything and I let you do nothing. Why? It didn't take many times of being called a bitch or a nag before I reverted back to my mantra: Conflict is bad. Disagreements are bad. Having a voice is bad.

You were the kindergarten teacher giving me the stink eye and I put my head down and said nothing.

You told me that I had no right to be upset about our marriage because you didn't beat me.

And I agreed. And I raised our children and I made our home and you never lifted a finger and you only told us how much we were an annoyance to you.

But I have to agree, you didn't beat me. I guess that means we had a happy marriage by your terms, right? I guess learning about you using a belt on our son after you left was supposed to make me realize what a great dad you were as well. Top that off with molestation and physically pushing your daughter around and I'm thinking that all that means is that you believe you were an absolutely stellar human being.

The last wedding anniversary that we spent together laid bare what I was planning. When I started to take control of my life and myself and lose weight and gain back my self esteem, I knew that I had to leave you. You were nothing but toxic. The kids asked why I stayed and beyond being scared of being homeless, I didn't have a reason.

So I started making plans in my head. Plans that kept me sane when I had to walk into this house and sense your presence like a noxious miasma. There were times when I would stand behind you and fantasize about bringing my cast iron skillet down on the back of your head but frankly, I wouldn't want to chance damaging the skillet.

That's where my head was on our last anniversary together. You suggested we go out for dinner at Blackwoods and you kept asking me what was wrong. The most hilarious thing, in hind sight, is that I'm sure you were trying to figure out if I knew you were cheating on me. Of course I didn't know you were cheating me. If I had, I would have whooped for joy and handed you a suitcase.

Hooray! There are other stupid insecure fucked up women in this world! Go exploit them and leave me alone!

But all I could do was sit there and look off into the distance and dream about a day when I wouldn't have to be around you.

I could have told you a lot of things that day. I could have told you how I hated coming home and existing in the same space as you. I could have told you how I wondered what my reaction would be if you got in a horrible car crash and died. Would I be able to pull of a proper grief reaction when the police came to my door? Or would I be honest for the first time and acknowledge to another human being "Good! I hope he rots in hell."

And to think, this was my story before I ever learned about your true nature. This was my story when all I knew was that you didn't take "no" for an answer at times, which worked out really well for you since abuse survivors have a tendency to freeze and not fight back. That was the story of our first sexual encounter as I recall.

And that is what being an abuse survivor can do to you. Hmmmm. I told him no and he didn't listen and I froze and I just pretended that it didn't happen and then I made the ever so intelligent move of marrying the bastard.

I have had eleven months to rake over these coals and recognize my many failures. I feel alternately like a fool, an idiot, and a dupe.

But I also feel like a survivor. I have learned so much about myself. I am stronger than I ever knew. I am surrounded by people I love and who love me. Life is alternately terrifying and exhilarating and to top it all off, I have the most wonderful kids in the universe.

We're not divorced yet but we will be soon. Since I learned that our paperwork is where it needs to be, finally, the gray fog has lifted from my soul.

In the most sincerest of ironies, the happiest time in all of my eighteen years of marriage to you have been the last eleven months when your absence has been the greatest gift of all.

I hope you're enjoying this day as much as I am!

Didn't I Hear All This On Dr. Phil?

Ever had a couple glasses (bottles) of wine and started to comprise your list of relationship "warning signs"? You know, actual things that have happened in your past relationships that you were to stupid to heed but in retrospect, with a head soaked in a little too much alcohol, you realize can be tragically hilarious?

Cuz really, pain and sadness not only deepen our strength and give a greater luster to our colors, but it also gives us some kick ass stories to tell as we whistle past the graveyard.

• STBX put an engagement ring on my finger and as I was going all gushy he says "Yeah, that ring has only been on the finger of one other girl. She turned me down." Hmmm. Smart girl.
  
• My former father-in-law warned STBX against marrying me because I was filled with too much "moxie". What the hell does THAT mean? That I'd get a little pissy if you hit me? Apparently it was a latent moxie, also known as "Mamma Bear" syndrome.
• My former father-in-law explaining to me, as I held my newborn, how it was important to know that you should beat your kids if you needed to, cuz it's the only way to get your point across at times... Yeah, thanks for that Doctor Spock. Hooray for stellar parenting! He also chewed me out for dressing my little girl in blue because it would make her "funny". Sorry to rain on your parade dad-in-law, but the first signs of a lesbian baby are the booties. They will be VERY SENSIBLE.
  
• After being found out as a cheater, having STBX literally look me in the eye and say "You know, I could go and visit her on the weekends and stay here during the week." This was about 24 hours before I learned the whole story. This was his line of thinking and to this day, I regret not dope slapping him with a crowbar.

We all have them...cringe-worthy moments...let's discuss!

My Book Report- Conclusions

As I stated a few weeks ago, I'm still getting used to people who recognize me through the blog or the the newspaper article. I don't mean to be slow on the uptake, there was just that incident when I was a baby and I got dropped on my head.

So, to the several people at the grocery store over the past couple weeks and the waitress, and the gal at the Farmer's Market and the postal worker, thank you for sharing your stories with me. It's made me even more aware of the stories that we carry around under the surface of our skin. There are so many of us out there.

I've finished Out of the Shadows and I'm getting ready to pass it on to someone else. It pissed me off but I'm glad I read it.

There were reactions in the book from spouses that I totally identified with but there were also conclusions drawn that missed the mark, at least in my case.

I think, once again, it came down to a book that didn't match my situation. It really hammered home the idea of the co addict who assisted in the "addiction" by covering up for the spouse's issues. It also talked about spouses who are controlling because they feel so out of control.

Does the fact that 99% of all the chores and responsibilities in our marriage fell on my shoulders in turn make me controlling? Had I not done them, they would not have gotten done. Whenever I asked for help in doing something, STBX blew me off with sarcasm and turned back to his computer.

If this indeed means that I was controlling, can I ask what my options were? Or does controlling mean that a spouse tries to manipulate her "addict's" behavior by keeping him busy so he won't cruise the bars and pick up prostitutes?

The only control I had was over myself and I realized that long ago. STBX didn't want a wife, he wanted a mommy. Women who play that role for their husbands DRIVE ME AROUND THE BEND.

The book did mention how a common theme for "addicts" is that they want a woman who is nothing like their mother and then they spend years hating her because she isn't their mother.

I underlined that paragraph. Perhaps two or three times. That is the perfect description of the last 17 years of my life.

Before we got married, STBX told me "I'm so glad you're nothing like my mother."

Hindsight can be so funny. It makes me want to puke.

Where I disagreed with the book most heartily was when it was stated that a co addict is the same as the addict in that they feel they have no self worth and are unlovable.

Yeah, I'm not going there at all. I realized a long time ago that I did not deserve the shit that I was fed. It turned out to be many years of being isolated and manipulated and I became very angry. Unfortunately, after being rebuffed enough times when it came to talking about these things, I gave up. I began to mark my time and plan my escape.

Funnily enough, my revelations all happened after the abuse stopped. Not the brightest bulb, I will admit.

As I stated before, this book is for the "addict", not the survivors. Nowhere, and I mean NOWHERE in this book does it talk about families breaking up over this. Every scenario leads the spouse and children to therapy with the perp and they allllll live happily ever after.

Yeah. STBX was never able to take in information and actually apply it to a new situation. He could parrot those that he shared their beliefs but to actually digest a book and apply it to the reality of his situation, well, that would just lead to a court statement that was painted in rainbows and tethered to clouds.

There are about five sentences or so in this book that state the possibility of "legal action" for some things that "addicts" do. Perhaps this is to refrain from scaring perps away.

It is, however, not grounded in reality.

Not my reality at least.

My Book Report

I'm halfway through Out Of The Shadows and now I understand STBX's statement in court.

Why should he apologize for something he had no control over?

There are many things in this book that ring true to him and to what I imagine his childhood to be. There is also a chapter on co addiction that says it's wrong to hide your spouse's porn and to discount your child's disclosure because you're just feeding into his cycle of addiction.

But thus far, the main gist of the book follows AA and even has the 12 steps for sex addicts.

You are powerless in the face of your disease.

STBX jumped onto that bandwagon as quick as he could. Powerless? Not responsible? Hey, it's the card he played his entire life.

The killer of it, for me, is that he would go on mini-rants about how AA was ridiculous and that alcoholism wasn't a disease and that alcoholics used that "disease crap" as a crutch.

But when it comes to the consequences of his own actions, suddenly, it all makes sense.

As I figured, this book completely ignores the devastation that families are in after the offender has done his worst. I'm picturing the drunk driver lurching down the highway after causing a twenty car pile up and the author of the book running up to the drunk and asking "Are you ok? Let me get you a band aid." Meanwhile, twenty cars are piled up with people bleeding to death, completely ignored.

When STBX turned to my daughter at the sentencing and said "I thought we could just work this out in therapy," I was appalled at how minimizing that statement was.

Now that I read this book, I can see how he made that statement. One of the steps in recovery is to go back to all the people that you've hurt and talk it out.

That idea, in and of itself, is so completely off kilter that I can't even go there. The idea that a person who has done unspeakable things thinks it's ok to force themselves onto their victim at some point in the future so they themselves can "get better" is, once again, self centered. The book does mention that this step should be done so long as it "doesn't cause the victim pain".

What???

Crack pipe smokers unite!

The book also spends a sentence or two on how manipulative and secretive these folk are yet talks at some length about how co addicts are to blame for not listening to the sex addict and not telling the sex addict how they really feel.

I haven't quite figured out if the author is calling all spouses co addicts or just the lucky few that pay off the babysitter after their husband tries to feel them up.

How could I discuss my feelings with "my addict" when I was called a bitch and told to shut up? The most infuriating part of the whole scenario is looking back and remembering the odd questions that he would pose to me. Things that made me look at him as if he were from Mars but never things that made me say "Ah ha! You're a pedophile!"

I'm certainly guilty of stupidity and ignorance. I'm also guilty of staying in a broken marriage and putting up with years of misery. By the time I was plotting my get away, it was years too late.

What this book fails horribly at is looking at the flip side. It can tell all the scenarios out there: Dan was a married man with two kids and a good job. He spent $5000 a month on hookers and porn and when his daughter turned eight, he began molesting her. This lasted for six years.

Poor Dan. My heart is bleeding for him.

How about a flip side to this scenario?

Mary was married to Dan and she had two kids. Communication had broken down in their marriage long ago as Dan withdrew from the family unit. Whenever Mary would try to talk to him about her day or the kids, he would snap at her. Whenever the kids would try to talk to him he would ignore them for at least five minutes, hoping they would just go away. If they didn't give up trying to communicate, he would sigh heavily and answer them sarcastically at every opportunity. Aside from being at work, Dan spent all of his time on the computer. On the rare occasion when he was home at dinner time, he would take his plate and sit at the computer, once again ignoring his family. It was later discovered that Dan began molesting his daughter when she was nine. He had engaged in coercive sex with Mary after the births of their children and Mary, a survivor of abuse as a child, had managed to bury the trauma. Her flashbacks to these times would start after finding out about her daughter's abuse. Mary had distanced herself from Dan emotionally and physically and had been planning her get away from him for at least a year before disclosure.

Wow. Mary and Dan. Pretty screwed up, eh?

Glad I don't know anyone like that.

Apparently, I am not the only skeptic...

Next Up? Daddy Dearest

Continuing on yesterday's thread, the other half of the equation in all of our lives is fathers.

Not having grown up around my father and having the only man my aunt (who raised me) was involved with be a molester, my understanding of what a healthy relationship with a man is hasn't come to light until my life blew up in December.

I've known for years that my marriage wasn't good. Having wanted to leave when the kids were little and being sneered at, something inside me curled up and hibernated for fourteen years.

I stayed. For that choice, I am guilty.

For the consequences of stbx's fucked up childhood, I am not.

Before I knew that stbx was a pedophile, I knew he was a rotten father. I told myself that he would try to get partial custody of the kids if I left. I believe this to be true to this day. He would have done it out of spite. By staying, I could at least be there to protect my kids against his sarcasm, his indifference, his obvious lack of interest in them. Had I known what kind of interest he had in in at least one of them...yeah...there we go with that 20/20 hindsight thing again.

When the kids were little, he called them "screaming balls of flesh" (granted, there were those days and nights of colic when this was an apt description). He told people that he would be more interested in them when they got older. He said it would be great if you could just give a kid a ball and send them to a corner and have them bounce it for hours on end so they would leave you alone.

There were early attempts at school conferences and school functions. But somewhere after third or fourth grade, it all stopped. As I write this sentence, I realize, that involvement with the kids stopped when the abuse started.

That is also the time that he totally withdrew from us as a family.

Seven years.

That's how long the kids have had an absentee father who sat a mere two feet from them, involved in everything online and nothing in his real life.

There were times when I tried to invite him to school functions or to something we were doing but he was always busy or acted like we were the stupid ones for actually going outside the house to have a life. In the last couple years, when I would mention "asking dad to come with us", the kids would sigh and balk. It would either be a waste of time or else he would come with us and make us all miserable with his aura of gloom and sarcasm.

As I've stated before, having been abused, I cut him even less slack for becoming an abuser. He knew where I came from. At any time, he could have sat down and either talked about his past or simply said "I need help and I can't tell you why", but he didn't. He told his manhole that he "couldn't help himself". Well, he could have helped himself. He chose not to. It was easier to use his own child for his own selfish purposes than to pick up a phone and make a call to a professional.

That's what makes this whole scenario so insidious. He has played the victim his entire life. He seeks out women that want to nurture and "help" and once again, he only has to be the ten year old child, crying to his mommy.

That will be his defense when this all goes to court. His lawyer will try to turn the tables away from what he has done and turn him into the victim that he has acted like his entire life.

Since he surrounds himself currently with people that perpetuate that myth, I'm sure he's feeling quite secure in what a terrible lot his life has been and just how much he can sway a courtroom.

And how he had no control over the mess he has created.

Mommie Dearest

It's always interesting to pop the top off your head and take a look at what makes you tick.

I remember a long time ago when my kids were toddlers, I went to a workshop on parenting and the presenter said that, when your kids are misbehaving and you are at your wits end, it sometimes helps to pretend that they are someone else's kids. You are less likely to throttle someone else's kids. You are more likely to step back from the situation and act responsibly.

I've found that advice to be very beneficial over the years when examining my own self. Having had the cheese slip off my crackers as a college student, I really don't want to go there again. Having had less than stellar therapy in the past, I'm less than trusting when it comes to laying all the power at someone else's feet.

Thus, I tinker.

During the years of my marriage, I would stand in the kitchen, stare out of the kitchen window, and psychoanalyze why I was so angry. I would delve into the reasons for my sadness. I would take comfort in the fact that I had reasons to feel the way I was feeling.

And then I wouldn't do a damn thing about it.

It's sort of like being the most enlightened person on a deserted island. In the long run, it doesn't really matter much.

Something I've been examining lately is motherhood.

So much of what is going on revolves around motherhood.

Mother-guilt for not knowing what was going on (yes, I know it's ridiculous to beat myself up for ignorance but SAYING it and FEELING it are two entirely different things.)

Abysmal choices by mothers-STBX's manhole choosing to carry on a relationship with a known pedophile when she has a young daughter. (Do you think he fantasizes about her daughter when they're having sex?).

Maternal abandonment issues-something that I've been working on in regards to myself and my first few months of life.

STBX's mother issues-He never moved past the psychological development of a ten year old and always acted like I was supposed to be his mother rather than his wife. I know a lot of women feel this way about their husbands but his is a deep seated psychological issue rather than an annoying immaturity.

There's also the culture of judgment of mother's, mine being right up there at the top. Mothers are judged far more than fathers. One side of the coin is that we're all trying to do the best we can with what we have. The other side of the coin is the reality that we often act out of selfish desires for our own safety, our own security, and our own desires.

See, prying the top off your head can get ugly.

You have to be willing to own what you have done. To admit that there were times when you should have made better choices and that there were times when you were just hanging on by a thread.

To realize that the decisions you make as a mother are made in somewhat of an echo chamber, they might seem transitory at the time but when you string them together, they make a conversation, the foundation of a life for your children.

That is the ultimate challenge and the heartbreaking joy of being a mother.

Slang This

Newest most favorite slang word?

Manhole.

Definition?

The woman your husband cheated on you with.

I read that today and giggled. Gallows humor rocks!

It's even funnier when your looking forward to going out for a beer with a cute boy.

I'm just sayin'.

I ain't No Elizabeth Edwards

Seriously, can we talk?

Can we discuss the concept of infidelity? And I don't mean infidelity followed up by a dose of pedophilia. Please forgive my life, it has a tendency to be all mushed together like your Aunt Eileen's Spam Loaf on a fourth fo July picnic.

I'm just talking about sticking your proverbial junk in someone who you shouldn't be sticking your junk.

Or to be perfectly fair, receiving said junk.

And to be all inclusive, yes, cheating also consists of the sticking of ones junk/receiving of ones junk via the many electronic media out there. My theory is, people who cheat via the internet and/or four hour cell phone calls only lack proximity. If the object of their junkification was standing in front of them, much merriment would ensue.

Life is very complicated. Marriages break down. My marriage broke down a long time ago. I knew this when my kids were small. It took until recently to start making my escape plan. I was sketching out my roadmap to freedom when the wheels fell off the wagon.

Perhaps my STBX figured this out. Perhaps he realized that I was so incredibly sick of his shit that instead of getting angry that he was a negative, overweight, overbearing bastard, I simply decided not to give it anymore of my energy. I was sick of him. I was taking care of myself and my kids, and he no longer had anyone to complain to, to play the victim for, or to harrange. He was a non-entity.

So he found a twenty-something with mental health issues and a six year old daughter. Everything that he needed. Someone who didn't know his game. Someone that he could try to reinvent himself with. Someone that spent an equal amount of time online and wouldn't feel like they were dealing with an emotionally immature idiot.

So, the question I ponder here is this: Is she innocent? Is she a victim because she's got a history of mental health issues? She's still hanging with him and had the gall to email me to tell me what a great mother she is. To quote the best cowboy movie ever "she just can't quit him".

This whole situation has made me feel like I'm surrounded by crazy people. My STBX can molest his daughter and try to come off as the victim, his fuck puppet girlfriend can try to convince herself that she's a good mother because she would never let her daughter near her new boyfriend, and her husband still wants her back.

Did I mention that this is the second time she's cheated on her husband?

As I said, marriages break down. It's the strong couple that can face each other and say "we either need to fix this or we need to split." I knew there was no fixing my marriage because my STBX will never change. That is the saddest and most ironic part of his fuck puppet's story. She thinks that he will change. She thinks that she has some magical thing that will turn his life around. She just can't realize that she is mearly a hunk of meat heading for the grinder.

And people who are prone to cheating DON'T CHANGE.

If it's in your psyche that it is permissible to cheat on a spouse, changing your spouse won't change that part of their personality. One day, they will get bored, angry, depressed, whatever. Then, they will cheat again.

If you appreciate being a doormat, stick around. You'll have your chance again.







This is me. Not being a doormat.

And Now The Award For Father Of The Year

The autopsy of a relationship, especially a bad relationship, is not for the faint hearted.

I despised weekends because I would be home to witness the fact that my soon-to-be-ex husband would sit in front of the computer for ten hours and never speak a word to his family. My weekends were exhausting because I had to invent reasons to either stay away from home or else come home and risk mentioning something like, "Can you take the trash out?" and be met with the attitude that I had just requested his left testicle.

I learned a couple days ago that during one of the times that my son and I were out together and our first dog was a puppy, my soon-to-be-ex-husband was glued to the computer as usual and when the dog, who he was also ignoring, had an accident at his feet, he flew into a rage at my daughter who wasn't even in the same room. I remember her telling me that he had gotten really mad at her but I didn't realize that it involved him screaming at her that the dog having an accident was all her fault. If she has to take the dog outside and spend four hours to get him to go to the bathroom, then that was what she should have done.

She then proceeded to take the dog outside and decided that if she went back inside he would probably slap her so she sat down on the front lawn with the dog and waited for me to come back home. Within fifteen minutes, he screamed at her to come back in the house because she was taking to damn much time outside.

When she came back into the house, he continued to scream at her and when he wanted to get past her, he slammed her against the wall to get through. She ran up to her room and shut herself in and he left the house for a half an hour.

When he came back home, he went upstairs to her room and asked her, through her closed door, not to tell me what had happened. He then proceeded to tell her that if she kept her mouth shut he would buy her something.

Thankfully, she told him to fuck off.

And when I got home, he was sitting at the computer. Maybe he gave a grunting acknowledgement that I had entered the house, maybe he didn't. I don't remember.

It was just another day in the life.

All Pissed Off And Nowhere To Go

This journey is such a strange one, the emotional roller coaster never ceases to amaze me.

I really haven't honestly sat down and acknowledged my incredulity and anger regarding the whole cheating aspect of this melodrama. I found out about it and then less than 24 hours later I found out so much more that it was immediately pushed to the back burner.

Since my soon to be ex-husband hasn't changed his address yet, I'm still receiving his mail. There is nothing like looking at his cell phone bill and realizing that the man who would completly ignore the presence of three other human beings that lived in the same house as him and were less than three yards away from him the majority of the time, was chatting up his girlfriend while at work for sometimes three hours at a time. There were thirty minute conversations from him and then two hours later another hour conversation from her. They spoke on the phone three, four, sometimes five times a day.

This, from a man who would go for days and exchange only snide, rude, condecending comments to his family. This, from a man that I struggle to remember the last time he said a single positive thing to anyone.

There are things that I am keeping willfully ignorant of. I am not trying to find out where in this city my soon to be ex-husband is since I would be all to tempted to stand on his doorstep with a baseball bat. That's why I so appreciate my lawyer in this matter. She realizes that there are times when I am in a very dark place indeed.

This morning's rage has nowhere to go. I have been doing my best to channel my anger and anxiety into exercise and meditation and sorry stabs at humor. I hope that this will be the week that the police bring my husband into custody. I hope he actually doesn't force everything into an open court where he will not only have to admit to being a deviant but also drag us down with him. I hope he signs his divorce papers this week as well. I hope I never have to see him again.

I have an amazing group of friends. I have a web of support that will wrap me up in a heartbeat. But this morning, right here, right now, I have a heart filled with rage and anger. Hope may be the thing with feathers Emily...but things with feathers are notorious for shitting on your head.

Jilted for a Level Seven Healer

Drama, drama, drama.

For anyone reading this blog for any length of time, you may note a conspicuous dearth of blogging about my husband. That's basically because he does two things, he works and he plays World of Warcraft. And when I say that he does just two things, I sincerely mean that. He does not participate in our lives, he just bitches about things that he knows nothing about and pervades the house with Eu du Negativity.

Well, ACTUALLY, he does THREE things! He works, plays World of Warcraft, AND fucks around with his level 7 healer.

"Fucks" being a word meaning "having pathetic online and telephone sex" with his level 7 healer.

All of this came out after he called me out to the garage to discuss the fact that his level 7 healer has a husband and guess what! That husband found out and believe it or not, was none to happy about the state of affairs. Level 7 healer's husband tracked me down on the internets and was planning on calling me at work to tell me that my husband was an ass. Funnily enough, I already knew it, but just not the degree of assholedness.

I've been comtemplating escape routes for awhile now but there is nothing like a touch of adultery to grease the wheels of progress.

The most pathetic thing is that he doesn't realize how pathetic he is. There have been moments since he told me this that I actually stopped and started laughing to myself. He has a family in front of him and a woman online that he has never physically met. He actually tried to justify his actions because "You don't understand how important World of Warcraft is to me."

Hmmmm. Silly me. My priorities for the past 17 years have been raising happy, well rounded kids. Obviously, I don't see the BIG picture.

Well, financially it will be scary but mentally, I am so much better off. I needed this kick in the ass years ago. I needed someone to grab me by my face and say "you are enabling a loser!"

Damn! Looks like I could have used a level 7 healer!