What Got You Unstuck?

Smoked the hopium pipe, spent every dime on marriage counseling, and completely gave away my dignity…..until she basically tried to kill me. Death has a unique way of changing your perspective on life.

I was at the lawyer’s and I realized if I left without writing him a check for his retainer that I would never take the next step. I wanted to get a divorce but I was still very scared to take the next step. Terrified. I realized that I had to put the wheels in motion. So I wrote the check.

After a year of having a bad gut feeling plus many broken promises over various day to day life things, when DDay came, my very first thought was of my mum who’d died of cancer 7 years before that day (she’d never know my ex husband).
Two things: how incredibly furious she’d have been with me if I’d stayed, and how there was no fucking way as long as I was alive, that I would allow my mum’s time raising me to be confident, happy, and self-reliant, to be wasted time.
So really, I took action to honour my dead mother. Sounds weird ????

The defining moment that got me “unstuck” was the best man in our wedding calling me & telling me I needed to immediately go get tested for HIV & other STDs because my husband had been having sex up with lots of random women he was soliciting on the internet from Craigslist & Ashley Madison. Apparently my ex had a giant hole in his heart that only hundreds of strange, dirty internet pussies could fill. Best man said my ex had “problems like this” his entire life, even as a young child, & he had secretly been soliciting sex from strangers (married women, because what got him off wasn’t the sex as much as it was the power of “stealing” these women from their husbands and deceiving me & everyone we knew). He & I were married 10+ years, and I, my family, and friends saw a doting husband. I didn’t see ANY signs this was going on–not a single one. My friends all thought I had the best marriage of any of us. My now ex was so brazen that he would have sex with me and other women on the same days, at both our home and our office. He would have these women in our home if he knew I’d be gone for even an hour or 2 (I volunteered for 2 local nonprofits twice a month for 2 hours at a time).

I explained what I discovered to a psychiatrist, because upon hearing this I legitimately thought he must have a brain tumor. She assured me it wasn’t a brain tumor, but rather she told me my STBX was a textbook sociopath and a sexual predator. Thank God, thank God, thank God that we didn’t have any children!

I cut all contact from that point on–every type of communication had to come through my lawyer–and I have never once looked back. I spend every single day joyful, celebrating and grateful that I’m not married to a depraved sexual predator.

I am unable to pinpoint a precipitating event that got me away from the cheater.

I had always been on edge during our relationship, during pregnancy he was never around. I kept finding Viagra hidden all over the place.

So I learned to start taking care of myself, which made me a little sad because I was in a relationship.

Then home with a newborn baby I learned he was seeing prostitutes while traveling for work. It clicked. It finally fell into place all of the credit card charges, all of the odd behavior… Then I found dating sites as well.

So less than two years into the marriage, I’ve distanced myself emotionally and started documenting things. Of course his abuse still took it’s toll, part of the way these people abuse us is by leaving us with childcare and other responsibilities so we are too tired to look out for ourselves and defend ourselves. I did not have the energy to leave at that time. Again, this is one of their many abusive tactics.

So at that 2 year mark I blocked him from all social media, even though we were still married. That was a great help. I also stop socializing with him aa a Family and as a couple. I told him straight up I would never socialize with him again in a public setting nor would I be a host for his guests in the home.

At that 2 year married mark we had been in couples counseling for several months and of course he was abusive in their sessions and everything turned back on me and my reaction. Nothing about his infidelity.

So I detached emotionally, as I was also looking for work, had a majority of house responsibilities and all of the childcare.

Fast forward from that two-year mark in December 2014… I trudged along Best I could. He ruined our finances I had no money and could not fill out, plus I had a very small child. I started working on a bilateral separation agreement as part of my strategy to get distance from this, and to set him up. I knew that he would not agree to anything and would demonstrate that he is disagreeable which I knew I needed as evidence. I knew that we would end up having to go to court and I would have to do an emergency separation.

I would have to say that Tracy’s book is what got me to lawyer up. I read it in the fall of 2016, after finding many more prostitutes, hiding of assets, more Viagra, tons of dating sites and lots of porn purchased.

Once I read her book, I started copying financial records, getting my strategy in place, getting documentation lined up and found an attorney. By this point I had been documenting abuses, child neglect, financial abuse, for almost 4 years.

Can I tell you getting prepared is the best thing you can do for yourself before dropping the separation bomb. This summer I did the unilateral emergency court order separation and he started hiding assets and pissing money away left right and center. Having the paperwork in order in advance is what will save my ass with divorce.

I also can say after reading Tracy’s book I looked more into narcissistic personalities. George Simon work and HG Tudor very eye-opening and helpful. I now view my abusive narcissistic soon to be ex-husband is a very sick individual, which is helped me stay out of the emotional vortex and remain as a gray rock- no response- no contact as possible.

Daughter found sex pics on the cheater’s phone, and was of course completely devastated. She told son, also devestated, who confronted Dad

That was really the main thing. Protecting them came first. Then came the trek toward freedom and healing for me, as well.

I always say they gave Dobby a sock.

That was not their job–and knowing the cheater put them in that spot steeled me–but I am forever grateful to my bold and bravery Gryffindors.

There were so many little things over the course of our 6-month wreckoncilition, but the clincher was what my counselor called “profoundly disturbing.”

As I unraveled the affair, I discovered that not only was the OW one of my friends, but that someone else very close to me was feeding her information about me, my family, and my husband after the affair ended. When I was out of town, what the mood was like between me and him, if I looked good or tired, that kind of thing.

I was devastated all over again, and my brain started telling me that if this many people I loved hated me this much, it had to be something wrong with me. I started to think my kids would be better off without me in their lives. I started to think about how I could kill myself without anyone knowing it was suicide.

I knew these thoughts were disordered, and went to my counselor. She encouraged me to check into the hospital for a few days. When I got out, I saw the discharge paperwork said they had spoken to my husband and he told them all the weapons were secured somewhere I didn’t have access.

When I got home, life went back to normal. I got up the next day, made everyone breakfast, cleaned house. I was folding laundry and noticed that the guns were exactly where they had been, ammo next to them.

I knew in that moment I would never be able to rely on him, that I would always be the wife/mother appliance there to take care of him, but that wasn’t something he could reciprocate. I have had chump moments since then, but I have been steadily moving away from the marriage since then.

After D-Day, my ex was still texting me every morning and me, being the chump I was, still wanted to hear from him. I didn’t want him back, but I wasn’t ready to let go. The text messages continued and then escalated; he wanted to come over and have sex, he invited me to lunch, etc. No, he said, he wasn’t dating anyone. As far as I knew, the OW was out of the picture. On the day of our daughter’s prom, we arrived separately at the venue and waited for our daughter to show up. Once she did, we took pictures and then we decided to go grab a beer at a local bar. I was trying to make up my mind as to whether or not I should sleep with him one last time. At the bar, everything was fine – we talked like it was old times. I didn’t go home with him, and as I drove home to my place, I felt empty and bereft. I’d wanted to be with him but it didn’t feel right.

When I got home, I checked out Facebook and checked his page (he’d blocked me, but I found a way around it). My blood froze. He was tagged in a photo of red roses by the OW that said, “Thanks for the roses, hon!”

Yes, he’d been lying to me again. He wanted to sleep with me, have lunch, continue our relationship, and the ENTIRE time he was with the OW. I called him up and told him what I’d discovered. He was absolutely flummoxed. “HOW did you find out???” He thought he would get away with it again. Nope. THANK GOD I didn’t sleep with him.

THAT, my dear chumps, was what got me unstuck. I realized that he would NEVER change, and I was DONE doing the pick-me dance. He and the OW are now engaged, the OW sent her three kids away to live with their fathers because she couldn’t handle them and was getting irritated over their discipline problems (I doubt she would have done this if my ex and her weren’t living together because my ex cannot handle small children), and my ex is working a job not in his field, has bill collectors after him, is estranged from our daughter, and his two sons are very unhappy with what he’s done.

Me? My life is calm and peaceful now and the ONLY time that peace gets interrupted is when the ex pops up with his drama. I’m not at meh yet, but I’m getting there.

It was a mirror. I know that sounds strange, but it was a mirror. I wanted to fix up the entryway in our townhouse, to make it welcoming. I had resigned myself to never having friends over or a party (him: this house is too small for that. Me: the neighbors have people over all the time in the same sized house. Him: no. Me: ok, well can we think about moving to a bigger house? Him: what the hell is wrong with you? You’re never satisfied, there’s NOTHING wrong with this house! Rinse and repeat), even though I love having people around. So I thought I’d do up the entryway. He was notoriously cheap, despite the fact that we both made six figures, making me feel so small and greedy when I wanted furniture or a vacation, or ANYTHING, that I had just resigned myself to finding furniture at Target (on sale) to get him off my back. So I went to Home Goods and pieced together quite a nice entryway for about $100. A small console table with knock knacks and a beautiful mirror I got for $50. He bitched and complained “you don’t need this” but I felt so removed from him that I no longer gave a shit about what HE thought I did and didn’t need. I had two DDays under my belt, the first when I swiped left instead of right when he was showing me pics and saw that he was at a park taking pics of other women. He called me a “pussy” for getting upset about it because “it’s something that ALL men do”… The second was when I looked at his phone and saw text messages from Monica, the Tumblr porn star and escort who he lied and said was a fellow lobbyist who had not been to the house but when I asked why she needed our address the story changed to he was just getting her weed, not fucking her. Of course, because people in the sex industry don’t come to a house to fuck you after exchanging endearments via text (“baby” and “love”), they just come grab the drugs and go. Sigh. So back to the mirror, since I was already giving him the side eye on a daily, I didn’t really care if I didn’t “need” to have an entryway – there was a shit ton of stuff happening that didn’t “need” to (sleeping in the basement, speaking to me like I was a whore, checking out of the marriage and all parental responsibilities), so I ignored him. I set up my entryway, but the mirror was so big I didn’t think I could hang it by myself. So I asked him to help me. This was early August – he said I needed to go to Home Depot to get the right stuff to hang it, so I did. He said the stuff I bought wasn’t the right stuff, so I went back and got more. Still didn’t hang it. My mother had a brain aneurysm burst at the end of August, no compassion from him whatsoever, no assistance with daughter as I scrambled to get a flight to get to her bedside the next day because they were talking about giving her last rites, no coming up to bed to hold me as I was out of my mind thinking she was gonna die, nothing except a text message while I was sitting in the ICU asking me to order daughter a pizza from Papa John’s “cuz she’s hungry.” Got back home and the mirror is still leaned against the wall by the front door. Mid-September I told my sister “if I have to hang that mirror myself I’m divorcing his trifling ass.” She laughed but for some reason I was deadly serious. Got home one day and the mirror was gone. He had moved it to the basement because he was tired of it “being in the way.” I went downstairs and got my damn mirror and put it up…he didn’t notice for two days. Anyhoo, I started lining my ducks up after that – rebuilding my credit because he had just stopped paying bills. Then I got downsized so I had to wait and find a new job, one whose base salary afforded me the ability to be independent, one that he was completely against me taking until, of course, he saw how much $ I was bringing in (I had a utility as a cash cow – he sat on his ass for a year not working and drained my 401K). The following June I sat him down and told him if things didn’t change I wanted a divorce so he did me a “favor” and started coming up to bed – thanks. August he called me in a panic because he couldn’t find his phone and I thought here we go again! I came home early to find the phone before he could and it was full of not only hardcore porn, but videos of him stalking women on the street, shoving his phone up their skirts on escalators, following women around daughter’s school, just tons of shit. Ducks got together and I told him to get out October 1. Every time I walked past that mirror I’d say “you’re doing this because at some point YOU need to be able to look yourself in the face and know who you are and what you’re worth.” I file for divorce in two weeks. I love that fucking mirror, it now has a prominent position on the fireplace mantle of my new house.

The first 180 degree personality shift was 9 years after wedding, when his father died, and xh completely turned into his father, raging and compulsive gestures and lurching walk. I was frightened, but spackled that it was due to intense grief.

The second 180 degree personality shift was the clincher, more than 4 years later, after my deep spackling that the poor man was mentally ill and couldn’t help himself and I was married for sickness and worse through that time. So he turned into “new husband” overnight, able to have coherent conversation with me, no obsessive gestures, improved grooming, cooperative with household tasks. He did this for a week or so, then asked me to sign off on a home equity loan for the 10th time, and I said no, and he simply reverted to his usual monster maskless self. But I realized that he had choice, agency in how he treated me, was legally competent, and I had to divorce him.

Four years later, my life is whole and sweet again. Not sure I’ll ever trust anyone else to let them close enough to partner up, but who knows what life will bring.

I think I’ve put something on this here before, but it’s worth repeating.
My ex bailed right after D-day, but then put out feelers to see if I was open to reconciliation before she was even completely out of the house. I was struggling with what to do, swinging back and forth emotionally between “throw the b****’s skanky stuff out today” and “maybe she really will change and we can fix this.” (I know, pass the hopium pipe). I couldn’t sleep a wink, so I stayed home from work that day and read one of those “how to save your really eff’ed up marriage” reconciliation books that morning. It described a letter I could write, telling my cheater that I would be willing to work on our marriage, but not until she gave up the cheating. At first, it seemed like an improvement over the other wreck-onciliation books (what I’d call “just bend over and take it until she gets bored of the AP…if ever”). I wrote most of the letter, like the book said, then I took a look at what I read, and was aghast. “This is ridiculous,” I thought, “Why on earth am *I* the one to bend over backwards, when *she’s* the one who cheated? To hell with this!”
Said letter was trashed (didn’t burn this one, though I probably should have). Said b***** and her skanky stuff were all out within a week.