“In the end it is not the words of our enemies we will remember, it is the silence of our friends.”
After spending 8 years of my life loving him, helping him, defending him, covering for him, lying for him and making excuses for him… I am done.
He has betrayed me, stabbed me in the back and thrown me in front of the bus for his own benefit for the last time. I was the only real friend he ever had. He knows it. I know it. And while it hurts badly to face the fact that he will never give me credit for any of that or being the only person in his life who has ever stood up for him and been there for him… I accept it. However – I am not going to tolerate it anymore. The beauty of divorce is I don’t have to.
How soon he forgets about how I left college to be with him when my parents made me choose, because I believed him when he said he wanted to build a life with me and he and his son needed me. Nevermind who supported him in getting custody of Pickle and that I was the one at home with Pickle while Daddy was out getting wasted. That I was the one who gave him money to help him go down to North Carolina to get Pickle back when the egg donor ran off with him only to have him take some skank with him and cheat on me in the process. And why didn’t I run then? Because of Pickle. Who was the one who attened all of his Pickle’s special education meetings, who has been the one to get him all the medical attention he needed?
Nevermind that he asked me to marry him and begged me to have his child so Pickle would “have a good Mommy and the family he deserves” only to turn around and tell everyone in his family that it was an accident and wasn’t planned. Nevermind that he didn’t say a word when his brother and mother accused me of trying to trap him. And hello? For what? Like it was some success to give up college and live with him in a trailer. Wow – good insight. Then for him to get drunk one night and spit in my face and hit me in the stomach and tell me that he didn’t give a fuck what happened to me or Jedi, that all he needed was Pickle and he had him now. Nevermind, that when he asked me a month later to forgive him and told me he had seen the light and that he wanted to build a family with me, I married him while he was unemployed and agreed to leave my job to be a stay-at-home Mom to Pickle and Jedi when he arrived.
Speaking of that – how soon he forgets how I stuck with him through all his job changes, firings and unemployment. One time because he falsified a government contract for a kick back and one time because he was drinking so heavily he couldn’t take his ass to work and got fired when I was 6 months pregnant with Diva. How that stress lead to preterm labor at 6 months and complete bed rest, which I never did, because I could never depend on him.
Oh and let’s not forget how when Pickle confessed the horrible things that had happened to him, I was the one who got him counseling, while Daddy drank and drank and drank to the point of passing out and making Pickle think he was dead – like that’s what he needed, or getting behind the wheel of his truck one night, while it was running in a closed garage and then passing out and me being the one who saved his life. Nevermind that it caused so much stress that I ended up with high blood pressure and toxemia and having to be induced a month early. Nevermind that that’s why our Jedi will suffer from asthma for the rest of his life. And what about me going out for the first time in two years by myself for some stress relief to come home and find him passed out, having left candles burning that were scorching the wall, while our children slept in the next room.
And the kicker? When I would finally have enough that I would go to someone in his family for help, he would lie and say that I was just being dramatic and his family supported him. I get unconditional love – I get that family should support one another, but when a grown man has children that he is putting in harm’s way -it’s time to stop enabling the man, and start standing up for the children. To all of you who washed your hands of me and the kids – I won’t soon forget. I have one word for you: KARMA.
Then, let’s not forget the final straws. El Chupa yelling at me for having him come home from work when my Mom went into A-Fib. SHE ALMOST DIED! and my friend, Crazie, was more compassionate, than my
husband. Then, me passing out in a car right in front of him and him admitting to bringing me home and trying to get me up out of the car, and when he couldn’t wake me up, he continued on and drove to Wal-Mart to get speakers for his beloved Jeep and left me unconscious with three kids in the backseat, tonly for me to wake up, have no idea where I was and for him to offer no excuse and no apology. Yes, just one more example of his loving devotion and concern. Finally – The night he was drunk and walked around all night calling me a “stuck up bitch” in front of my children because I was asking him to turn his music down when I was trying to get them to bed for school the next day. When I asked him again to turn it down he came across the room at me and grabbed me by the throat, only to tell his Mom that he had only tried to hug me and had accidentally gotten his arm around my neck. Yeh – nevermind that when I got away from him and he saw how terrified I was that he laughed sadistically and threatened me about not calling the cops. Nevermind, that when I tried to call my Dad, he disconnected the phone and that because of that MY DAD CALLED THE COPS – not me. And after that, I seriously was supposed to not have him arrested? God only knows what would’ve happened.
Now this – him calling me the past three weeks, telling me how miserable he is with his girlfriend and that he needs therapy and me trying to be supportive, tracking down phone numbers for him to call for help, worrying myself sick….only to have him turn around and back stab me. When a problem arose with one of our kids and I went to him about, he let her run her mouth about me and influence him in the background and ran with it, instead of believing me or giving me the benefit of the doubt. And then to top this off, in case all of this wasn’t enough, he decides to screw me over on our taxes, tells me it wasn’t his fuckin problem and I could fuckin pay it, because he doesn’t live here? After I filed jointly to save his ass from having to pay a $6000 underpayment? Lost my Pell grant money for college because of it and this is the thanks I get? Enough is enough. At some point if you keep piling shit on someone’s shoulders, they’re gonna break. So, I say – you know what I’m done, I’m not helping you out anymore, your unpredictable and you’re an asshole, I tell him I’m not gonna drive the kids 40 mins away to drop them off for his visitations anymore, cause, well, like he said, it’s not my problem. After all, he knew where his kids were when he moved out there – how is it my responsibility now? Then after that – he has the AUDACITY to accuse me of using the kids of leverage.
Why am I writing all this?
I just thought it was about time the truth be told. Not the truth according to Stephanie, but the actual truth. Why would I make this up? It makes me look like a TOTAL DUMBASS! A pushover. A victim. And anybody who knows me, knows that’s the last thing I want to be. But, I am tired of hiding, and I’m tired of nobody knowing. I want somebody, anybody to know the truth. He knows it’s true. And the fact that he will only continue to deny it, says oodles about his character.
To those who read this and choose to continue to enable him – just remember you’re as much to blame for what’s happened and what’s gonna happen. And really, I mean this from the bottom of my heart – you all deserve each other. Know that he talks as much and as badly about ALL of you, friends and family, as he does me. He is two-faced. Bottom line.
t all hurts. Ya know, cause it’s one thing for him to lie to himself and not take responsibility, but it’s something different for him to continue lying to everyone else. Just to make shit up about someone and sell it like it’s gospel…ridiculous! It’s cruel and unusual punishment. And for what? For loving him? For being there for him? For trying to help? For raising his son from his previous marriage on my own? For giving and giving only to have him take and take?I ‘m just sick of it all. All of this is beyond not fair. Fine- he doesn’t love me, maybe he never did. Hell, he doesn’t even have to like me. I sure as hell don’t want pity. But, at the VERY least I think I’m owed some appreciation and respect. Or just leave me the hell alone. Please?
I can’t take it anymore. I’ve had enough. So, from here on out, it’s about me and the kids. It’s not ever gonna be about him or what he needs or what his problem is, I’m done caring, because he never gave us a second thought. He is responsible for his relationship with them. I am done covering for him. I’m done making excuses for him. I’m done helping him in any aspect – ever! If you can’t understand that – I can’t help you, but…
I’m just done.
It’s taken a really long time, but I get it now. No matter what I do – good or bad…. I will be nothing more than someone for him to blame. That’s all our relationship and marriage amounts to. Sad, but true… and I’m ending it.