It’s been a little over three months (March) since my husband of 7 years informed me that I needed to leave our home with our 6-year-old and (at the time) 1-month-old after I discovered he had been having an affair.
He had already told me he planned to divorce me the day before Thanksgiving and it took me months to figure out why. I was busy going to school and working so I didn’t have much time for snooping. I just figured he was unhappy and wanted a fresh start and I loved him enough to agree to separate amicably.
It was anything but… He was hostile and angry and my pregnancy was a miserable experience (he locked me out of my bedroom and I was forced to sleep with my son on his twin bed until my belly couldn’t take it anymore and then I slept on a mattress on the floor. I suppose I should explain that I continued to stay in our home because A) I had nowhere else to go and B) I was coming up on my last semester of nursing school and couldn’t quit that far in.)
Anyway to make a long story short, a month after I gave birth, I found the evidence that I needed. She had bought him chocolates for Valentines day and included a card that read how happy he made her heart and how happy he made her body parts and how she hoped they would spend many more Valentine days together. I can’t tell you the emotions that went through my head… I gather you probably know what that feels like. But my husband is the only man I’ve ever been with and this hurt like a sonofabitch. He ended up telling me to pack up the kids and leave after we had a massive argument that night.
I’ve been at my mom’s ever since… and boy has this been a roller coaster. For a while I was angry and then I wanted to die…and then both simultaneously…on repeat for weeks. Its been 3 months since then and I’m just starting to feel like I can think clearer. I was starting to feel positive, hopeful, getting more restful with baby’s sleeping pattern. But today made me super angry.
Before he used to spend the night at the OW’s house, but today my neighbor told me that she’s been frequenting our home pretty regularly. Why do I still call it my home? Ugh… She’s sitting on my furniture, using my kitchen table, and screwing my husband on a bed where we created our kids. The bed I cried on when we lost several babies to miscarriage. I worked so damn hard to get us into that home and she’s in there with him and he invited her in. I’m over here changing diapers, staying up nights, studying for my boards and he gets to live like a bachelor. No conscience — no soul. I don’t know how to begin to get “meh” about that. I want to claw her eyes out and I want him to hurt as bad as I do. I could never do something like that to him — why then can he do this to me and not feel the slightest bit of guilt?
Is there no karmic justice? This is it? Suck it up and wait for the pain to pass? Do the daily grind and fake it in front of the kids? I need to know there’s something better waiting on the other side of this. Because right now all it is, is a bunch of soul crushing pain.
Thanks in advance,
Oh Eve! I just want to give you a long, squeeze-the-stuffing-out-of-you hug. You are a mighty beyond words to suffer this kind of trauma AND get through nursing school AND give birth AND raise an infant AND a six-year-old.
However much this hurts right now (and we get it… like your guts are pouring out of a blown-open hole in your chest and you can’t staunch the flow and you feel like you’re going to die, but every day you must walk around like, “Oh? Mortal wound? No, I’m fine.”), the pain WILL END. (On a Tuesday.) Truly, there is an amazing world on the other side.
There will be other houses. There will be other kitchens. There will be other bedrooms. There will be a NEW LIFE that has not been defiled by your old life. I know you worked hard for those things. Sometimes when our minds cannot really grasp the full horror of betrayal and abuse, we focus on the tangible stuff we lost.
For Mr. CL, it was Christmas ornaments. All the glued together popsicle stick art the kids made. The sentimental stuff. The injustice of losing half of those holiday touchstones to his kids about broke him. For me, when I went through this shit, I had just planted a garden. I had put in an expensive Japanese maple. And while the divorce was dragging on and I moved out, and the OW was playing house in “our” house (and I still owned said house), I drove over one day and I dug that motherfucker up, put it in a giant rubbermaid container and took it to work. I gave it to a co-worker who was a master gardener. Fourteen years later, he still tells me how that Japanese maple is doing. Sends me the occasional snap shot.
Millions of people have passed through this site who have lost their hearts and their homes and recovered. And you will too. Because you’re a fighter. You’re an absolute badass of resiliency. You’re sitting NURSING BOARDS now?
He had already told me he planned to divorce me the day before Thanksgiving
While you were pregnant with his child? Before the holidays? And you have a first grader? And he’s cheating and you must all become homeless FOR HIS DICK?
You understand that he is a sociopath, right? No morally sane person could do this.
my pregnancy was a miserable experience (he locked me out of my bedroom and I was forced to sleep with my son on his twin bed until my belly couldn’t take it anymore and then I slept on a mattress…
You put your ABUSE in PARENTHESES.
Eve, come in here for another hug. I read a lot of shit here. Like a metric ton of heartbreak a day, and this fucking sentence has reduced me to tears. Pregnant you on that floor mattress.
That sentence doesn’t belong in parentheses. It belongs in a lawyer’s office. In front of a judge. For a protection from abuse order. For a temporary support order. For a divorce. Eve, you need to take your abuse OUT and GIVE it to the people who can free you and protect you. NOW.
If you can’t afford a lawyer, call a legal aid society. A women’s shelter. Your state bar association. Start a GoFundMe. But Eve, you go get an ATTORNEY and FILE. And if it were me, I would ask for full custody. Or ask to terminate his parental rights in exchange for no child support. A man who can do this to his kids is not someone I’d want to share parenting with (although I know a lot of CN is going through that.) You’re starting this divorce thing out, try to minimize his influence as much as possible. DOCUMENT every diaper change, every expense, every hour you spend parenting and he does NOT.
She had bought him chocolates for Valentines day and included a card
You realize the OW is a pathetic fool, right? She is chasing an ABUSER. She is pick me dancing for his affections. Please love me! Here’s some chocolates! She is conspiring in your abuse thinking it’s going to be different for her. It will NOT be. He is an ABUSER. Her day sobbing on a cold floor is coming. Hope she’s really enjoying those bed linens now.
Is there no karmic justice? This is it?
Don’t wait for it. Get on with rebuilding your life. The immediate justice is that they are fuckwits. Their punishment is being them. People with shallow attachments, users, abusers. Shit life skills. It’s a long arc, and by the time you see anything that will set your heart a-tingle with schadenfreude, you’ll be long past caring. You’ll trust that they suck. You’re grieving now.
Suck it up and wait for the pain to pass?
No, don’t suck it up. Puke it out. Punch it out. Succeed in spite of it. Pass those motherfucking nursing boards.
The pain WILL pass because you’ll be building a new life and that life will fill in and eventually your old life (and attendant fuckwits) will recede. But it’s going to hurt A LOT for quite a while. Acutely, then like a dull throb, then the occasional pain that flares suddenly sometimes, and then it’s just a scar you wear.
Badasses have scars, Eve.
I need to know there’s something better waiting on the other side of this.
YOU are on the other side of this. You minus a fuckwit is a BETTER you. YOU will make your kids lives better every day by not modeling abuse to them. You will be the sane parent with the job that supports them. You will be loved fiercely. And as your kids grow, they will only have admiration for you and awe. Your triumph over this will be the story that gets passed down generations.
And the fuckwit who THREW YOU OUT will be the villain, forever and always. Not because we need villains to be mighty, or because you’re alienating him, or giving him a bad name, but because his deeds will speak for themselves.
He built you up just to tear you down, at your most vulnerable. Imagine how wonderful your life is going to become without Fuckwit The Destroyer. It’s just up, up, up from here.