Big Changes

Well, everyone is facing major changes these days…are we not? It is in how we handle them that we will one day be able to look back and determine our own humanity and if we rose to the occasion of acting and being our best or not. Determining what is important to our concept of a higher good and promoting what we consider to be virtues that we wish to live by will, undoubtedly, be a test for us all as we go through this uncharted territory.

But I digress.

Last week I flew to Texas to be with the kids. I took them to an island off the coast for Spring Break and we had a wonderful time. Our condo was right on the beach and to hear the waves rolling in was a treat and something you could depend on in these uncertain times. Of course, South Padre Island is party city during break, but not this year, as events began to be canceled due to the virus outbreak.

After arriving back in San Antonio Sunday night, I began to get concerned about if I would be able to fly home on Thursday. With all the corona virus news and the policies that the President was implementing it seemed like the right course of action would be to leave in the next day or two. Getting stuck at my Texas home with B, possibly indefinitely, sounded like it could be very uncomfortable. It was further complicated by the fact that his traitor sister, who promoted B’s affair, was driving in on Thursday with her daughter and I figured that three against one did not make for good odds. Frankly, I began to question just what they might do to me. I mean, they have no loyalty to the person who has helped them over the years (me) and I was concerned that they could concoct some sort of story and I might see the inside of a jail cell, so I changed my airline reservation and got a credit fo $200…a rather nice surprise!

Things began to change rapidly in regards to the corona virus across the state and the country. By the end of the day on Monday, the kids school was being closed and the diving program was possibly being terminated for a undetermined amount of time. When I went to pick Gracie up from practice I thought that perhaps it would be a good time to ask if she wanted to go with me and give her a taste of what living with me might be like. So I asked her if she wanted to come home with me and she couldn’t say yes fast enough. So I told her that she had to tell her dad and then I would book a ticket for her.

When we got home B flat out said, “No, she is not going. She has school and practice. No, she may not go!”

Gracie begged.

He was unrelenting.

I finally told him school was closed and I would get her to practice her and frankly, she had the right to make her own decision and that at her age a judge would let her do what she wanted. I told him I was going upstairs and would try to order a ticket for her. He was angry and not happy but I booked a ticket for her anyway. Later he accused me of plotting to take Gracie but in reality I had no plans of doing so. The reality of the situation is this: because of the corona virus, an opportunity arose, and as a result of it, Grace and I decided to take advantage of the time together that it presented.

Later that evening I told Paul and that because he had a neurology appointment on Thursday he could not come with me. However, if he wanted to come after that he was welcome to do so. He seemed hurt and angry that night but the whole entire time I was there he appeared to be angry at me. For instance, when I asked innocently what B was doing the weekend we were on Padre he gave me a big defensive “WHY?” and it began to seem that he was beginning to, for lack of a better word, make it a B (and him) vs me type of situation. Frankly, that saddens and worries me.

Later that evening I asked B why he seemed to dislike me so much and he replied, “I don’t hate you. I still love you and care for you”  to which I replied something like: “…you know, it was hearing (the butt dialed) conversation between you and your sister that made me leave. The distain and hatred you have for me was so evident and never once did you correct the lies and ugliness your sister said to you about me. That is not love. The things you said were not loving so please don’t tell me your care for me and love me because no one speaks about someone they love the way the two of you spoke about me Hearing the two of you broke my heart and it became evident when you talked about Nhi with such love and me with such anger that it was time for me to leave.”

Anyway, the next morning, before our departure, B played his instrument and hummed all morning long. Not a word was mentioned about our impending trip.  He dropped us off at the airport giving Gracie a brief hug and was gone.

The airports were eerily quiet. On our flight from San Antonio to Las Vegas the 145 passenger plane had 32 people on it while the second leg of our flight from Las Vegas to California sat 50 individuals out of a possible 175. I have never seen so few people on a plane in my life.

So Gracie and I are here. She will be doing long-distance on-line learning through her school. It is nice to have one of my kids with me….it feels good…it feels right and it is wonderful being a hands-on mom again even though my fibromyalgia is still kicking my butt. But having Gracie here makes the pain bearable because she is such a joy to be around.

Another interesting development…B’s sister did not come after all but her daughter (the Meth-head (clean for a little over 100 days) flew in instead of drive…my, how plans change!

If you remember, B stated after I left, that he would have to hire someone to help him even though my kids said they did not need anyone to come in nor did they need any help. I now suspect that he brought his niece to Texas to be the nanny. When I asked how long she would be staying the original answer was a couple of weeks. I then asked if she didn’t need to return to her job at which point B said, “Well, maybe three weeks or a month. I don’t know at this point.” What I do know is that on her Facebook page she wrote “TBD” when a friend asked how long she was staying. As friends who have met her said at this turn of events, “Well, how would that work? Gracie is more mature and together than she ever will be.” And so, a messed up 26 yo is at the house providing guidance to my sons and I don’t like it one bit. Luckily, the boys are both anti-drug so I hope that provides some level of protection.

One more thing. Since moving here and living alone I have found it difficult to sleep at night. I have heard every creak and groan of the house during the night. So yesterday, Grace and I went to pick out an alarm. Here it is…

 

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Going Back To The Gaslighter

Tomorrow I leave for Texas. It will be wonderful to see my kids but it will not be wonderful to see their dad. Every time i am there I am terrified that he will do something…what I don’t know but I do know that I do not feel safe. Physically I feel safe but mentally I do not. When someone has screwed with you for five years and everyday was just new lie waiting to be inflicted on you…there is no way to feel safe ever again.

I did make it to the doctor regarding my Fibromyalgia. She prescribed the usual Cymbalta and was concerned about how my legs were in such crippling pain. I have some blood work to do and back to see her in two weeks. My therapist had an interesting take on the matter. She said I needed to honor my fibromyalgia in that it was telling me to slow down and take time for myself and that the more I try to deny my anger at this situation I find myself in regarding the divorce; that the worse the Fibromyalgia is going to get until I give myself the mental and physical rest it needs from five years of mental abuse. I guess she should know. She has been on this journey with me from the start and she knows exactly what B did to me and just how conniving and destructive it was to me and the kids.

In a similar vein, someone I love and respect sent me this video of the new Dixie Chicks song, Gaslighter, and said, “How fitting. Someone made a video of your marriage just change the words from “we moved to California” to “We moved to Texas.”

Even more true to just how much B’s affair and our impending divorce has just about done me in over the past five years. I can relate as Maines sings. “I’m your mirror, Standing here until you can see how/You broke me.” Just insert my photo in Maines place and you can see how broken I really am. In fact, this song feels like a personal anthem dedicated to me.

So I leave you with this wonderful new video and if you have your own gaslighter in your life I hope that you get some strength knowing that you are not alone in the situation.

P.S. Thank you for all the lovely responses and comments. For whatever reason I am unable to respond or reply. Just know that I so appreciate your support.

The Pain of Fibromyalgia

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I don’t write about it often. At times. the mental pain of B’s five year affair has occupied me enough so I figure who really wants to listen about the physical pain that resides in my body…not me. Usually, I ignore it. Pretend if I don’t acknowledge it that it doesn’t exist. But the pain of fibromyalgia is often with me and for the past month it has been my constant companion My legs burn all day long and at night I wake up often as the burning pain creeps from my toes to my thighs rumbling like thunder across the grassy plains.

The soreness and muscle fatigue also snake through my shoulders and down my arms until my arms are so heavy it feels as if they are pulling a tank.  My neck often feels as if it is missing the very threads needed to keep it on straight as if the parts don’t line up and the awkward angle throbs. Combined with the fibro fog in my brain which makes studying almost useless and retention of facts nearly impossible..well, let’s just say I have had better days.

Usually I have managed to keep the pain at bay by keeping stress down, meditation, light exercise like walking and getting enough rest. But since I left B the pain has intensified to the point of being unbearable at times. I don’t know if it because I am under a different type of stress or if the sadness I am feeling is just making itself at home throughout my body. Or perhaps, when I had my family I was so busy and was depended on to such an extent that I couldn’t just sink into the pain and let it envelope me. But now, in this new life I hurt. Every inch of me aches and this physical pain combined with the mental torment has produced a tsunami that is pulling me under. Today the pain was so bad it was difficult t get out of bed without crawling on the floor first to find the support I needed to lift myself up.

THIS SUCKS.

Long story short, I went to the doctor today crying like a fool and she has put me back on the typical meds available to fibromyalgia patients. There really isn’t a great treatment available unless you go the Dr. Paul St. Armand way which is probably the closest thing to finding a path towards relief. I have his book…somewhere… and plan to look at it again when found.

In the meantime, I have decided to try and get more sleep, eat more greens and increase my meditate time in an attempt to cleanse my body of things that damage it instead of holding on to those things that keep it in a state of disrepair. Perhaps with the meds and taking better care of myself I can bring myself back from the brink of never-ending pain to that of just manageable pain…and with it a way to view life in a more positive way because I am tired of these “growing” pains.OIP-1

 

A Loving Response To My Husband’s Affair

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A dear friend of mine read Running On Empty and took the time to write to me. They were loving words, get “off your ass” words and “let’s get with it” words. I appreciated each and everyone so much so that I decided to share it with you.

…. its understandable to feel these emotions and its too early to rejoice in the future.  This future offers promise, independence and peace.  You’ve had half a decade of discontent, mistrust, suspicion, self doubt and a self image that was devastated by uncertainty and malicious evaluation from someone who saw fault in you but not in themselves.  How much more do you have to torment yourself?  When do you say, its enough.  You’re a strong enough person to realize what has happened here.
B, unfortunately, was snared by someone calculating enough to realize that she found a money pit.  Someone who with the briefest of encounters was willing to support her financially, adopt her family and support them as well and to surrender his very existence to follow a myth that she provided.
I hate to say it, but to my way of thinking, B is a temporary inconvenience for her.  She’ll live well here, if, she is, as you say, on his list to bring over, but she’d be a queen in her own country and a family matriarch if she were to go back to Vietnam a wealthy single female.  B is financially worth a lot to her but I would think as benefactor of his will and insurance coverage, even more.  I honestly believe she’s set him up as a gullible westerner who is going to be sugar daddy to her family and friends.  The age difference allows an early exit leaving her beneficiary of his fortune,  My guess is that he’ll be taking care of her family almost immediately.
All of this is conjecture, you don’t know for certain but regardless….he has his life to live….good or bad.  But be more than a bystander with yours.  Your offerings are more than just what B provided you.  Dig down and rediscover yourself.  Be Lynn.  There was another person before B, you know. Find her again.  It may not be easy but there is someone there, just look.  You’ve been a genealogist and expert on others lives… how about reading about your ancestors and realize someday one of your heirs will be looking into their history and stumble upon your name.  Show them something. Show them something good. Show them what you are made of and what they inherited from you. Make them proud but mostly make yourself proud and become who you were meant to be.
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What Do I Want To Reflect?

One of the nice things (if you can call ANYTHING about divorce nice) is that I get to start over, While moving is usually exciting to me this time I find everything seems muted, Colors, sound, views…all different than before. Almost like seeing everything in black and white instead of in beautiful vibrant color.

One of the things I am starting over on is my home. What do I want it to reflect when someone steps inside? How does it identify who and what I believe? After 32 years of marriage who am I ALONE? What do I want people to glean about me when they enter my domain? And so I have been working on this the past week and would like to show you a few of the results….starting with the kitchen.

I paired an antique french table with these modern chairs. I think it says a lot about who I amIMG_3893

Next is the formal living room. Since I left my beautiful baby grand piano back in Texas I find the room has doubled in size! I have a corner to fill but other than that it is done.

First I went on Craig’s list and found this old desk which I brought home and painted. I paired it with a chair from Ross Dress For Less which cost under $50.

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Remember the Persian Rugs that I bought and that B hated well I think this one looks really good with the sofa. I found the modern chair to pair with my art deco cabinet as a floor sample and swept it up for under $175. Yes, I bought that beautiful velvet Green sofa off of Wayfair and I LOVE it. So tired of the former all brown “Family”  look.

 

I have had this large scroll painting since I went to China the last time but had no where to hang it. With that big boring blank wall hogging up the space I decided the Giant Tibetan Mastiff and his girl really needed a home there. I love this picture because it reminds me so much of Tibet…the kids with smudges of dirt all over their faces no matter where you went.

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Finally, I had this other picture from Ethiopia and have never done anything with it. The dimensions were such that it could not be framed so I solved that problem by filling the landing wall with it.

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I hope through these pictures you get a glimpse of who I am.

Today, I also got off my ass and went for a three mile walk. Here are a few pictures of what I saw:

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Running On Empty

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And so I start my new life. A life that once offered such promise and now I know not what it brings. One could say we never do…know what life brings. But when I was married for 32 years, I know that life brought me hope, assurance, and feeling appreciated. Now I feel nothing…but empty. An all encompassing emptiness like the lack of sound around you as you stare wide-eyed at the snowy silence in a forest.  That surreal reaction that feels so other worldly because it makes your ears hurt with the nothingness that fills them. That is kind of what leaving your children to get away from your cheater “I’m in love with our tour guide who is 20 years younger than you” feels like when you finally put your foot over the threshold. All the remains is a vast and unending silence. And while I am glad to be away from B’s constant lies, the price I am paying for doing nothing but believing in him…in us… in our family… is a heavy price to pay. He cheats…he has our kids. She cheats…she walks into my life and I am replaced. Everything I have poured my heart and soul is gone. Everything I loved into since I ran out my door at 15…never to return…gone. There was nothing to return to then and nothing to return to now…but emptiness…vacant hearts…desolate times in which I could not compete with the forbidden kiss of a woman across the world. A love, once whole but now dried up… falling apart… flaky and hard… like a day old biscuit.

Yet, every morning I put my feet over the side of the bed refusing to give into grief and pain that pulls at the roots of my insides, snapping like a rubber band against the skin…a wince coming just prior to letting go of the stretch. And so I stand, taking my first steps just like I did 58 years ago when first steps were exciting and everyone squealed in delight. Not terrifying as they are now. Falling when you are one = bandaids and kisses whereas when you are my age it can mean broken bones and even possibly death.

I feel like I should be grateful…I have a place to land unlike so many others in this world. But I feel no gratitude. Only the emptiness of once abundant touches…gone. “Hey, mom…I’m home!”…distant dreams. I miss my kids. I miss my life. But most of all I miss me.  Who I was when I was their mom? When I was someone’s wife?  When I thought I knew what I was and what I wanted. Now I look in the mirror at a stranger. A person’s whose eyes flash like a loud neon sign, ” Vacancy!” There is nothing here because I don’t even know the place that I am at, the language that is spoken, or the resources available to me. Life on this side of the aisle is so different and full of unknowns. Like being dropped off on a desert island with one match and being told, “Okay, now go make a life for yourself!” Does striking the match guarantee fire? Where to I even begin?

I have been reading Joan Didion’s book The Year Of Magical Thinking in hopes of reacting to grief in a normal way, yet, there is nothing normal about this. Grief when someone leaves you alone due to death protects the mind. While all encompassing you know that the person who left you didn’t have a choice. They didn’t want to leave you. Grief when your husband is in love with someone else is different. They had a choice and they choose someone else.  They wanted to leave you or wanted you to leave. Either way it makes no difference. You are rejected for who you are and all you ever hoped to be. You are not enough…never will be. This kind of grief doesn’t allow for “what if’s.” It just allows for the coring out of your heart and soul…all that is left is dry dusty bones held up by pieces of your life that fill in the joints making it possible to remain upright like a medical skeleton hanging in a med school dorm. Something hanging there that no one even notices anymore in the age of the digital life. Something regulated to the obsolete.

I will be okay. I keep telling myself this because if there is one thing I have learned in life it is that it will be okay…eventually. It always gets better…eventually. And when my eventually comes I will kick up my heals and dance celebrating who I am and all that I have created. But for now I sit quietly contemplating the same life questions I did when I was 15, 20 and 35. Who am I? Who will I become? What do I want? How do I go about achieving this?  The devil is in the details and the details have yet to be revealed.

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CHEATER LIVES…WHILE I SLOWLY DIE

I have spent the past week in Texas taking the kids to one doctor appointment after another. It has been trying.Leaving my kids is the hardest thing I have ever done and they are depressed and worried…I can’t even process their sadness because it feels like a tidal wave knocking me down deep into the sand. And several times, suddenly, when we hug the waterworks start even though I try to be brave in front of them. I guess that is life. Floods start where they wish and end at some far remote location and rarely can we control them. Mother Nature’s way of cleaning out some stuck areas on the earth.

My fibromyalgia has also been kicking my butt…stress does that to you.

Meanwhile, B is busy calling NHI. What he doesn’t know is that one of her friends disapproves and has been letting me know what is happening. Appears that they will be getting married soon after we divorce.

One thing that has shocked me this week is that Paul said to me, “you know you don’t have to join Facebook to see profiles.” Seems he had searched for the mistress quite a while ago and found her. He said to me, “I look at how poor she was when you met and now all the nice things she has thanks to Dad. She is a GOLD DIGGER and he is going to lose his retirement.” Of course, B wanted to blame me  but like I told him…”her pages said it all. The pics of you two together, the engagement ring you gave her, her Yves St. Laurent boxes with expensive birthday presents.” The lovely thing is that I don’t have to say anything because Paul saw it all for himself and sees her for who she is and for what she is. All thanks to her own words.

Tonight I will start the long drive home driving a UHaul and towing my car behind. It pisses me off that B refuses to pay for this move and won’t spring for a POD so I don’t have to drive a huge UHaul. Really…after all the cheating, lies and moves and 32 years of marriage and he won’t do the right thing to make this just a tad easier on me.

But truly what hurts the most is that I am so easily replaceable. One woman out and another woman in. I am losing my family, my life, my happiness…everything…while he destroys our family with no price to pay. He’s in love, has our kids, has our house, and life looks pretty rosy for him while I am left driving a UHaul…alone…the wind withering and plucking away at my soul on Interstate 10 due to five years of lies and chaos. But I have promised myself that while I may feel weak at the start of this trip with each passing mile I will gain strength and clarity as I crest the hills heading for my home and my new life.

 

Funny The Things We “Think” When We Leave

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I arrived back in California early in the morning. I had nothing at my home. No beds, no chairs, no spoons…no nothing… except lots of memories and heartache. This is the house where I first separated from B and the place I would leave in order to “rekindle” my hopes and dreams about our marriage. And it hurts to know that soon I will return as single person after 32 years of togetherness tricked into believing in a carefully crafted mirage. But I digress…

The only thing that was open at 12:30 a.m.  was a Walmart in a town about an hour away from my house.  I stopped. If you have ever been to a Walmart at that time of the day it is depressing. The buzz of the automatic floor cleaners greeted me while nary a person could be found. Silence permeated a place that usually roars during the hours of 8 a.m.- 10 p.m. It reminded me of the hours that teens spend locked away in their rooms avoiding their parents.

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I wandered through the aisles in a daze…on a autopilot…aware…but not really…of what I was doing. It was as if I was looking through glass…seeing the light shining through but what was behind the glass was GONE. There was nothing to look back on and no future to look towards. Just a vast empty place…the place where my heart once beat rapidly whenever I saw B. A place of comfort and security. A place that no longer existed except inside my head.

Soon I came to the aisle loaded with dishes, cups, and silverware of every shape and color. I picked up one of each thing to put in my cart and then, just as quickly, put them back onto the shelf. I just couldn’t commit to anything permanent. The bowl in my left hand seemed too weighty, too purposeful. Even though this is what I needed…TO BE GONE…it didn’t seem real and I wasn’t even sure that I wanted it to be true yet. It felt like a commitment to being forever single and baking lots of bread that I cold never consume all by myself.

“Maybe living back in my fantasy of how it once was is better than how it is now,” I thought as I fought back tears.

So I headed over to the paper goods with a mission. It’s a place full of throwaways…things to dispose of…items not to be kept forever… just like my marriage. It felt comfortable but sad. Cheap plastic cutlery, paper plates, and red DiXIE SOLO cups stared me down. I picked them up, the weight of them almost bringing me to my knees. I went to the self-check out (a very lonely place at 1 a.m.) and scanned each item checking my cart for any items left behind. All I saw was my heart, lifeless and barely pulsating….  according to B it wasn’t worth much… so I left it there at checkout #8 quivering on the conveyor belt. After bagging my necessities, I headed out the door with my twin-sized blow up mattress. It sat high in my cart advertising my new single status like a Vegas neon sign to the homeless man and his dog sitting at the cart return.

Two days later I felt stronger and headed down the mountain to Goodwill. There I found some 1980’s juice glasses, a variety of mis-matched silverware, and a nice set of four matching bowls. This I could do. It made my departure a little more real but not so real as to overwhelm me. This GONE thing was becoming more doable. Yet, I am homesick…missing my children and feeling guilty for “Abandoning” them…when I really haven’t.

Three days later I was feeling even stronger and more sure of my decision then ever. I was contemplating buying a matching set of dishes at a store a step up from Goodwill. The fact that a complete set of dishes is now a thought although not yet a reality is encouraging. For picking out a set of dishes signifies permanence to me and I have not felt quite ready to admit defeat. But each day I am stepping out and dipping my big toe a little deeper into my new life. It is a re-birth and it takes time. And this time around I want to craft a life for myself that is purposeful and meaningful in all areas of my existence…emotional, physical and spiritual. And while Goodwill is a good place to start this adventure… I know I do not want to begin with the left-overs of others. This time I will choose exactly what I need and want to nurture myself and my new beginning. I deserve to give this time to myself and I will. For I am worth it.

 

Congratulations Winner!

It’s funny. I have been thinking a lot about the last and only conversation I had with you (the five year mistress) since finding out about the affair. You know the one… during which my husband told you it was finally over while I listened and Skyped with the two of you… you being fully aware of my intrusive presence and witness to your heartbreak. During this conversation, with all the contempt you could muster, you said to me “Congratulations, Winner!” and over the last few months I have thought about this often.  This is because far from being “The Winner” I believe I have been the biggest loser of them all in this sick love triangle, except perhaps for my children who have lost their sense that the world is a safe place now and forevermore. And for that and that alone, I will never forgive you, try as I might and as a result, I end up hurting myself each and every day. For this sorrow, as we both know, only hurts me and doesn’t begin to touch you because you are not a part of their lives and you don’t have to bare witness to their pain.

Yes indeed, I may have my husband back but there are so many things I have lost forever or have yet to regain. I have lost my innocence regarding the 30+ year relationship I have had with my husband.  I lost the notion of true love and happily ever afters. And unfortunately, I have learned that the man I once trusted with my life is capable of deceitfulness and lies so deep that the Grand Canyon is not big enough to hold it all.

Sadly, I have lost all belief in myself: the idea that I can discern truth from fiction, that my perceptions are to be believed without question and that my feminist stance is a in-dwelling part of me which I honor no matter what. I have even been stripped of parts of my dignity. For those who know of the affair and the fact that I went back to a cheater, judge, I have somehow given up on my own sense of self, and my self- worth….and they pity me for it, thankful that they aren’t a spineless me. Yes, now I  have whole pieces of myself that have disappeared as I tried to preserve my children’s lives and my own no matter the cost to my own sanity and ego.

Further, where once I believed that my husband was incapable of  certain behaviors; I find he is capable of so much more than I could even conceive that it makes me feel emotionally unsafe. I may have him but I often feel alone as I wonder if he is still thinking of you when he closes his eyes while we are making love. I have lost my sense of joy and gratitude that I am alive because I no longer feel fully alive in this shell of myself which I now inhabit. A shell that my oldest son no longer talks to because he is angry at me as he feels I have turned my back on everything I have always professed that I am and he says I am no longer a role model for his daughter, a fact that may indeed be true. Now, the ground that once held the foundation of my marriage strong and steady is soiled and has turned to quicksand and what is left of the foundation is so unstable there are days that I don’t know if anything can be built on it to last no matter how hard we try.

But mostly what the two of you have taken from me is a sense of peace and all I am left with is an anger which rides a broomstick like a witch on Halloween. Here one minute, gone the next, casting spells and leaving behind ghosts which haunt me and rise suddenly out of nowhere their shadows throwing themselves throughout my life in the most unexpected places and ways. It’s the peace I miss the most. That sense of security which dwells inside your soul… quiet, restful, content contributing to a persistent belief in yourself and all you can accomplish. That stolen part of me hurts the most and at my age I worry that I will never find it again… keeping me in death tied to this thing I lost in life…forever searching and becoming a ghost myself. Oh, I do all the right things. I read the self-help books, I meditate daily, and  I try to practice forgiveness, but sadly, this sense of peace I once had is now elusive and I equate it to trying to find a lost diamond in the forest after you have walked a thousand miles. Although you re-trace your steps it is nowhere to be found. It’s the same with peace.

Even more bewildering than all this is that there are days that I still obsess about you, and while these obsessions are less frequent, they still interrupt me and my life at the most inconvient times. Like when I am finally finding peace in my husband’s arms, or while I am in the check out line at the grocery store, or while gassing up the car. Sadder still, I believe I think of you more than my husband thinks of you and it makes me scratch my head in wonder that you take up any single part of my day when you don’t deserve being thought of again for one measly nano second. And yet I do.  I resent that you now rent a room in my head when I never gave you permission to move in. I also find that when I think of you I find myself trying to I hate you, just so I can live with him. For the truth is that if I spent the amount of time thinking about what he did to me…to us…to our family,; then there are times I think that I could probably never live with him again. And so the blame lies solely at your feet.

Frankly, it would have been so much easier if you had been a six month affair. Easier still if you had lived down the block but being around the world made you that much more desirable because you were never put to the test, never had to live day in and out with this man or the chaos of our very complicated family. You never had to have a fight because he had to come home to his family or because he put us first. You never had to see us, husband and wife, laughing and joking together while walking down the street disturbing your sense of righteousness at saving B from the “awful” woman that he made you think I was. No, you never had to pick up my boys underwear, smell my husband’s farts in bed, iron his shirts or clean up after him. You got the fantasy relationship that I now dream of. That one that is free of complications because reality never actually touched it. Both of you were each others perfect fantasies because your relationship was just that…a fantastic dream. And therefore, the forbidden kisses you gave one another over the phone were sexier and more exciting than any I gave him. Nothing I did could bring satisfaction because you were mightier in his mind than I. And that mightiness overshadowed his “disappointing “real life with me which was all created in his own head to justify what he was doing and it was egged on by you. And as a result, during your “perfect” five years of Skyping, B got the perfect untested woman who would tell him whatever it was he wanted to hear, would listen and cluck with sympathy, all the while telling him all YOU would do for him once you took my place and how much you would appreciate him. Yes, you made him a King and he found wearing your crown was  quite addictive.

Sadly, it was not so much him you wanted but merely to take my life so that you could have my status, my home, my American passport and my “THINGS.”   I suppose the $50,000 he paid you for that three day fuck cemented that interest in obtaining my place in his life too. I am sure it gave you hope that you would be lifted out of a life of poverty and uncertainty because of “your” savior and our resources. And I have to say that I “get it.”  I understand why you betrayed me, the woman you had over for dinner with your family. You had hopes of permanently securing what you could only get in small very lucrative doses… freedom, security, citizenship, and “love.”

So, while you think I am the winner in this game I can assure you that I am not. No one wins in the game of adultery. Not one single soul. Our children lost big-time. They were hurt in so many ways and now wonder if their father is someone they can truly rely on to be there for them for the rest of their lives. You were hurt and I was hurt… both of us stripped of our dignity, left naked, exposed, and very much alone in an wasteland of empty emotions. I did nothing noble in fighting for B. If the truth be told, I was just a wife and mother who was trying to hold onto our family and our dream of what our life would look and be like all those years ago when we married. I was stubborn and petty and just angry enough not to let you “win.”

No, if there is a winner in all of this it would be B, the man who strung along two women, gave and with held his love as it suited him and who ate both from the plate of the secure and that of the fantasy. He got to feel undeserved admiration from the two of us, and your family, along with the rush that comes from being the prize. And he wasn’t left feeling “less than nothing” whereas the two women involved were.

So sleep well tonight knowing that you were not the “loser” and I the “winner.” This game of deceit and sacrifice did nothing for any of us except to line your pockets and to line B’s head with ideas of who and what he is not. And if adultery is the game for losers as I suspect it is, then the game becomes less about winning and more about just surviving. And all of us are now left just trying to survive the selfishness of two people who thought they had it all but in reality had nothing.

 

Best Article I’ve Come Across For Women

So I have been wanting to write something all week but just haven’t had the time. Right now I am on the coast having an Open House to try and sell my house that needs to be sold due to the divorce. This is my heart and soul place. It it where I come to rest and rediscover myself. It hurts that this beautiful place will no longer be mine sometime soon. However, at the same time I do know that everything is transitory in life and it is all just on loan to us anyway while we are here on earth. Therefore, I am grateful to have had stewardship of this little slice of heaven for the past eight years and will wish the new owners as much peace and joy as I have had owning it.

The other day I read an article that literally changed my life and how I see myself. It pretty much explains why I have behaved as I have during B’s affair. After reading it it has allowed to me see myself as optimistic rather than stupid…a nice thing after four years of BS. Still, just about everyday B says he will give up HER IF I promise never to divorce him. I tell him that I already had committed myself to our relationship but had not even though I was under the impression he did. They deserve each other and I deserve better…so much better.

Anyway, here is the link. I hope it helps someone else as much as it has helped me. Also you will find a few pics from my soul’s resting place.

https://www.elephantjournal.com/2019/06/the-unexpected-reason-wonderful-women-find-themselves-in-horrible-relationships/?fbclid=IwAR3eNJH0V8TQlnLvspz67AlNnvrni8uRLH69sXhNfcVdlHzYnCzKKKXtbLE

 

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