I was chumped, D-day May 5, 2016. While I was at home raising our two babies (aged 2 and 1), my husband was constantly absent watching my stepdaughter play volleyball. He couldn’t miss a single match, wouldn’t let me go while he stayed home with the babies, wouldn’t compromise on anything. Turns out he was having an affair with a married mom of one of the other girls on the team.
I danced the pick me. I cried and cried and cried. I begged him to be honest with me, go to counseling, stop talking to her, delete her from his social media, etc. He did none of those things, just went further underground. And he screamed and raged at me when I asked questions or begged him to help me restore a sense of security. He threw things, kicked holes in the walls, raged, raged, raged when I brought up my pain.
I got counseling. I kept trying to hold my shit together for my kids. I almost died inside. That sounds dramatic, but it’s in no way an exaggeration.
At around the one year mark, I’d seen enough evidence of their continued conversations so I moved out and filed for divorce. Since then, I read “Why Does He Do That?” by Lundy Bancroft and it turns out the affair (and his rage when I had the nerve to be mad about it) is just the tip of the emotional abuse iceberg.
Anyway, I have finally had enough and I’m moving the divorce along. Today he sent me texts reading:
Just stop it already. (To which I replied, “Stop what?”)
All of this bullshit. Stop overthinking everything. Quit being such a pain in the ass and come home. (No reply.)
This is all so stupid and unnecessary and a waste of a good family. But go ahead and keep pushing all of this. You’re going to deeply regret it one day.
I’m not really asking for any advice. I’m already taking your advice, and your website literally saved my life. I would really like to see your response to his texts, though.
Boy, he’s choosing all the options on the big combo plate of the disordered, huh? “I’d like cheating, raging, and abuse with a giant side order of projection, please. Hold the remorse!”
Obvious translation of his texts is HE needs to stop HIS bullshit and quit being an ass. HE’s destroying his family and perhaps HE’ll regret the kibble loss someday.
But the mindset of the eternally Splendid and forever entitled can never countenance fault, and so SMS (envelop please!) Bad Guy Status goes to… you.
What an honor to be his chump. (Not.) I’d forward those texts to your lawyer ASAP and stay no contact. Never take the bait! I’ll repeat the old adage about narcissists — any communication is “Come closer… so I can slap you.” He doesn’t want close. He doesn’t want insight. He’s not there to help you. He’s there to slap you. THAT’S WHAT THEY DO. So put down the skein of fuckupedness and quit texting with him.
Per your request, I’ll put his texts through the Universal Bullshit Translator. Maybe it will drive home what a hopeless fuckwit he is.
Just stop it already.
Just stop with your uppityness. I need a chump. This isosceles shit only works with three people. (Or 5, or 20, depending the geometric configuration.) Converting a married woman to be my full-time chump is too much work. Now I’ll have to expend energy to find new suckers! And why should I give precious kibbles away when you’re there to do my laundry and cook my meals and be Plan B (C, D…Z)?
I am very threatened by consequences. How dare you impose sanity on me!
All of this bullshit. Stop overthinking everything. Quit being such a pain in the ass and come home.
Yes, the problem isn’t my fucking around, the problem is your thinking. Quit sentience at once! Cease with your logic and reason! Go back to unknowing chumpdom.
You’re an annoying child. Stop your tantrum and come home for a spanking. I am the adult here.
(Okay, really, I am the spoiled child here, and you’re only adult, but I’d prefer to mindfuck you into thinking this is all your fault.)
This is all so stupid and unnecessary and a waste of a good family.
I waste families. Mine. Theirs. Doesn’t matter. I don’t care. I’m all about ME.
But go ahead and keep pushing all of this. You’re going to deeply regret it one day.
This is a threat. Remember when I kicked a hole in the wall? I know you’re a dim child, but let me connect the dots for you — next time it’s your head if you don’t obey me.
I will deeply regret letting you get away from me. If rage doesn’t work, I’ll flip through the other mindfuck channels to charm and self-pity.
Any harm that befalls you is all your fault. You made me do it, because you kept pushing all of this until I hurt you.
SMS, iron-clad boundaries here! Frankly, I’d talk to your lawyer about these texts and getting a protection from abuse order with supervised visitation of his children, and zero contact with you or he goes to jail. I don’t like the sound of “You’re going to deeply regret it.”
Expose this motherfucker to law enforcement and divorce consequences. The regrets are all his. You’ve nothing to regret leaving this loser.