It Wasn’t Just Cheating

Monday morning I got a text from my mom saying that C (my husband) had contacted her asking for my address, so he can serve me with divorce papers. He sent the same text to my daughters. Last Wednesday he asked me for my address, and I told him that I won’t give it to him until I speak to my attorney. Thursday he told me never mind, he doesn’t need it. But Monday he felt it acceptable to send to my mom and children what was very likely the only text he has sent to them in years, that wasn’t initiated by some sort of event, or encouraged by me because of said event. He declined coming to New Jersey with me to visit my daughters in the past, and was reluctant to see them when they came to Michigan, because of how guilty he felt for all that he’d done (that they knew about.) He was regularly invited to get togethers with my family, but always declined, for the same reason. There were times after he did see the girls that he’d comment on, or like their Facebook posts, and a couple of years ago he actually made pics of us and him, his FB profile pic, but other than that, nothing. But when he needed something from them, texting suddenly wasn’t a problem.

I guess it is important to interject that my daughters really love(d) him. When he was good to us, he was really good to us. He was there for my oldest daughter at a particularly difficult time in her life, and she in fact lived with us for  some time. And he flew my youngest daughter to AZ to visit us, as a surprise for our birthday, because she and I share the same birthday. Their father having had his own addiction issues, for my girls to now have a father figure who was loving, and caring, and for us to have our family, was really a big deal. They were all “stepbuddies.” It KILLS me to write about these happy times, and the good things, because it was those things that kept me holding on for so long. There was a point in time, after his first affair came out, that they were both very angry at him, but since I kept forgiving him, and encouraged the relationship between them,  they forgave him too.

But back to Monday, I called him and reiterated that I’d give him my address after speaking to the attorney. I also told him what a dick move it was to text my family when he needed something, after not having bothered to be in contact with them in the past, and when they know he’s a cheating douche again. (Which is really more of a still than an again.) He said he’s willing to hear anything they have to say to him, as long as he got my address, and that he loves my girls, the end. I told him that I had to, for my own well being, tell my full-truth about what had happened, especially to my girls, and he had his network of enablers, band, groupie bimbo, and that he, in refusing to get well, chose addiction, rage, and bullshit over my girls and I, again, and that he might love them, but, he sure as fuck didn’t make sure to keep in touch with them in any real way most of the time, so doing it now was bullshit.

In the interim, one of the girls sent him a text saying she didn’t want to be in the middle, and offering kind words to him. And then he sent me a text telling me that his stepbuddies love him, no matter what happens, and they know that he loves them. And I lost it. After making his friends and family hate me with his lies, after me covering for him to my girls and most of the rest of the world because I wanted to believe that he’d get his shit together and we’d be the family I always wanted and for a while thought we were, he used the kindness from one of my kids as a taunt to hurt me. Because that’s what a sick, manipulative fuck he is.

It didn’t happen anywhere near the way I planned for it to happen, nor was I quite ready for it to come out, but come out it did. For the first time I spoke to people who know me about having been physically abused by my husband. I spoke to the only 2 people whose opinion of me really matters to me. The details of all of it aren’t important for the purposes of what I’m writing here, but for my own healing, the words have finally been said.

He knows they know, so I thought he’d have some shame and actually fuck the fuck off where they are concerned. But today, in true narcissist/sociopath/don’t know what he is but definitely fucked up, form, he “loved” the pictures of my grandson, posted by my oldest daughter of his 6 month photo shoot. The man who was too busy recording with his band and playing shows, and then fucking his groupie, to come meet baby boy, in spite of having said he’d be coming here to see us, a lot, 2 days after my kids found out he beat me up, thought the appropriate thing to do was “love” those pictures. “I can’t even…”

There is the tiniest sense of relief in having done this, but unfortunately it didn’t make me feel dead inside where he is concerned. It didn’t make me stop missing the memory of what we had for a while, and it didn’t stop me mourning what I’d so long held out hope for. But the words had to come out. I have to not let him keep hurting me, and absolutely fuck him for trying to use my kids against me.


This is all so black and white and clinical and un-poetic, and uninspired, and I hate how it reads, but maybe its the topic, or the utter exhaustion I’m feeling.


My ultimate intention for this blog is to be a place of healing for me, and encouragement for others, as well as to shed light on the reality of sex addiction, and domestic violence. I fully recognize and acknowledge that in order to be those things, at some point my posts can no longer be about him, what he did or is doing, or anything but me. But I’m still bleeding, and kind of profusely. Hopefully this mess scabs over soon, and healing can begin.

 

 

 

 

 

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