weepingwillowwhit

Part 2: Cheater, Cheater where’d you meet her?

The next morning was somehow worse than the night before. I awoke to everything feeling normal and then suddenly everything was crashing down on top of me, the memories from the night before came hard and fast. I felt extreme anxiety that started with a tightening in my chest, and continued with rapid heartbeat that made me feel sick to my stomach. Up until this point, I can’t say I had ever experienced a panic attack. Knowing nothing about them, I still knew this was the real deal. I had no desire to try and process any of my feelings so my normal routine started. I heard crying next door, our sweet girl was hungry, and ready to nurse. I got her changed and fed and took her into the living room so she could watch an episode of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, in her nap nanny. I heard the shower running, and knew he was up now too. I hustled to the kitchen and packed the bottles into the tiny black cooler for her day’s milk. There were four bottles total, each with a little over four ounces of breastmilk in each. I pumped it the day before, while on two 15 minute breaks at work. I would do the same that day. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. My repetitive actions were really sticking out to me that morning. Every single day was basically the same. No wonder he’s bored.
Every single part of me wanted to rush into the bedroom and rip his ass for the stunt he pulled the night before. The problem was that I knew it wasn’t going to help. I was no door mat, and I had never allowed him to treat me as such. This wasn’t a situation where I could yell at him, and cry and get some sort of apology though. If that were the case, the apology would have already come. This was not the same person I married. He had changed. Maybe not over night. I’m not naïve enough to believe one day and poof he’s a different person. I’m also not blind in knowing that our daughter had really kept my attention lately, and he could easily be doing something behind my back this entire time without me noticing. I just know that the behavior was the opposite of anything I had ever seen and it terrified me to my core. If any of my friends had told me this same story, I would have been all “tell him he better tell you what the fuck is going on or he can get out”. Again, this was different. He was different. I knew already that if he were given the option to walk, he would walk. I had to dial down my crazy if I wanted to save my marriage. Imagine if this was your marriage hanging in the balance. What if this was suddenly your reality tomorrow?

I heard him shut off the water and slide open the bath tub/shower glass door. It was finally my turn to get ready. I slipped into the bathroom, and turned on a hot shower. I sort of blacked out, and let my emotions take over. I began walking through the previous night’s events, in my head, and tried my best to let my brain piece the questions I still had together. When I started to feel the anxiety in my chest again, I quickly washed my hair and for the first time in a couple weeks I shaved. I felt disgusted with myself for how long it had been. No wonder he’s no longer attracted to me.

I finished up quickly and shut off the shower. I wrapped a towel around my body and slipped into our walk-in closet. Looking through my wardrobe, there wasn’t a single article of clothing I wanted to wear, right down to my underwear. All of my focus lately had been on things for the baby. Up until now, I wasn’t concerned with what I wore to work as long as she looked cute and was comfortable. My work clothes were simple. I was allowed to wear jeans most days and so I did. I had lost a ton of weight since giving birth, and my chest was huge. I went from being a 34 C to a 34 DD. I was happy with my body, but I still wasn’t great at dressing it yet.

My hair was shorter than usual too. I got it cut not long after little lady was born. It was slightly shorter in the back and came down longer in the front to a point, roughly to my shoulders. I got red peek-a-boo highlights to try and spice things up a little bit from my regular auburn hair color. On this day in particular, I went ahead and used a hair dryer on it and did my best to straighten it. I could hear little lady from the living room starting to get antsy, and I knew he was going to be leaving soon. I wanted (actually needed) to have some sort of conversation before he left. I threw on some makeup, a little more than usual, focusing more on my eyes. I was dressed from the waist down and needed to check the dryer for a black cami to go under my blouse that I had chosen for the day. I raced across the house in a skirt and bra, and caught his eye as I dashed into the laundry room. I rummaged through the dryer to no avail. “Have you seen my black cami?” I asked, breaking the silence. “Nope”, he replied. The next question has stuck with me for so long and still to this day stings so much. “Trying to be sexy for once?” he asked. At this point I came out of the laundry room and looked him dead in the eyes. I couldn’t believe he just asked me this question. “What do you mean?” I replied, looking down at myself.  That morning I picked a pre – baby bra. It was white with small purple flowers. “You never wear normal bras, only breastfeeding grandma bras and underwear. They’re basically all the same.” He laughed as the words rolled out of his mouth and he didn’t wait for a response. His mood was strangely happy, almost giddy. I could tell he didn’t want me there, and had no desire to hold a conversation with me. It was such a weird feeling. We weren’t mean to each other, ever and yet he just went out of his way to be hurtful, which was so completely unlike him. I went back to our bedroom and sat down on the edge of our bed. Tears began to pool in my eyes. I heard him tell our sweet girl good bye and he walked out the back door for work. For the first time in 9 years, he left without saying good bye or giving me a kiss. I felt like chasing his truck down and busting his windows out with a baseball bat. I didn’t.

Instead, I finished getting ready and grabbed little lady and her things. We were headed out the door to daycare and work. I checked my phone often that day for an “I’m sorry” text message as it still felt like I was in some sort of weird dream or fog that I was going to wake up from soon. The text never came. In fact, he also skipped going to lunch with me. More like, he just didn’t return any of my texts to meet up. Again, very strange, as we always took our lunch breaks together. Finally, a few minutes before it was time for me to go pick up our girl from daycare, I got a text message from him. “I’ll be home for dinner and little lady’s bath tonight, but I’m going out after that. I don’t know how late so don’t text me” I asked him where he was going to be and he told me he was going to hang out with his friends “or something”. Or something? WTF kind of answer was that? I’d had it, and was already over the games. “Have I done something to piss you off? Why are you treating me this way? We need to actually talk about what’s going on.” His response was simple, but still all at the same time confusing… “I know” and that was the end of the conversation. There was no point in trying to have this conversation through text message. I was furious, and that now familiar anxious feeling crept back inside of me. Another panic attack was on the horizon. I couldn’t stay at work for another minute. I wanted to go get my daughter and head straight to my parent’s house but that wasn’t even an option. If I told them what was going on, they would never forgive him. They’d jump to conclusions, that were more than likely very real and the likelihood of us making it work, and not throwing away 9 years together, would be slim. This had to stay between us, for now.
This same behavior continued on for another week or so, until shit really hit the fan. I feel like an idiot as I write this story, but hind sight truly is 20/20. I felt sorry for him, and I felt he was lost and needed me more than ever. I tried to be supportive of his need to be away from me, as crazy as that sounds and so I made sure to give him his space. He finally opened up to me a little and told me he was just going through a lot, and he felt overwhelmed. I felt overwhelmed at times too. Life is hard. Adulting is hard. There were days when I felt the same way, and everyone deserves to have a break once in a while. I made myself available to him for whatever he needed. I didn’t question him when he would leave after our girl’s bath each night. I let him check out and do whatever it was he was doing. Not in my wildest dreams could I have guessed what or who he was doing. I still sadly had trust in him. We’re now into the following weekend, it’s Saturday. I wake up extra early with our girl, and do my best to keep her quiet so he can sleep in. He had been out extremely late the night before. I woke him around 10 a.m. (at this point I’d been up for a good 5 to 6 hours) and asked him if he wanted to join us for a day trip to an indoor water park. Any other time, in the past, he would have jumped all over this plan. Not that day. “No thanks. I think I just want to hang out at the house. Go have some mommy/daughter time.” I was frustrated, but tried not to show it.I told him we could stay home with him and rent a movie or something. He made it very clear though that his plan to stay home did not include us. Instead of spending money on the water park, I decided to spend the afternoon with my sister who lived about five miles down the road from our house. I had clued her in, during the last few days, about what was going on. She was my only outlet. He had asked me to take my old Jeep that day, so he could drive our new one if he decided to go anywhere. This didn’t seem like a big deal since all he would be left with otherwise was his work truck, which wasn’t meant for personal driving. We always drove everywhere together, on this weekend, up until this point, so the new Jeep was always an option for both of us. Fast forward to lunch time, I received a text message from him…”I need you to sign something when you get home.” What now?! My heart started to race. Did he file for divorce? At this point, I really felt anything was possible. I left our girl with my sister, and drove home. As I pulled onto our street, I’ll never forget the rage I felt when I first saw the brand new Dodge Charger sitting in our driveway. How could he do this? Better question….why??

weepingwillowwhit

Part 1: Cheater, Cheater where’d you meet her?

Do you ever recover from being cheated on? I think this fucked with with me way more than I’ve ever given it credit. Why does four years ago feel more like 10?

May 14th, 2012. This day is forever etched into my brain. I was a new mom, a wife, I worked 40 hours a week at a local university and I honestly loved every single moment of my life. He was my best friend. We loved to joke around and had so many goals. Our daughter was 16 months old and was so much fun. I can honestly say that I felt complete and total bliss. Our bills were paid, we owned our own home, we had reliable vehicles, we both loved our careers, and I honestly thought we loved one another.

It was a Monday, as usual I came home from work after picking up our daughter from daycare and I started making dinner. Her dad came home shortly after and let me know he was going to mow the yard while I fixed dinner. Deal. I was having a hard time frying whatever it was I was frying up that day, so I walked outside and motioned for him to come help me take care of our little lady while I finished up dinner. When he got inside, he looked angry. I told him that I was sorry for interrupting his mowing, and that I’d be done as quickly as possible. This was a different kind of angry. He was furious. I’d never seen this side of him in our 9 years together.

He started yelling at me and telling me that I’m always needing help with the baby, and that every day is exactly the same. He told me our life together was boring, and he needed a change. He seemed over the top and irrational. Anything I said, he countered with another reason why his life was so terrible. He let me know that he was leaving for a little while and didn’t know when he would be back. What? I remember still having no idea how serious this situation actually was. He gathered up some of his things, and left with our brand new Jeep. I fed our girl that night, gave her a bath, and finally got her to sleep. Usually we would bathe her together, every single night without fail, and I’d breastfeed her while he would blow dry her hair. The combination of the two had always put her sleep since she was an infant.

By now, it was past 9 pm, and I started to get a strange feeling in my stomach. Where was he? I started thinking about who I was as a wife and a mother and started second guessing myself. Maybe I was boring? Our lives were pretty average, and he was right that we rarely did anything spontaneous. I decided I would start planning something fun and adventurous and I couldn’t wait for him to come home and find me on my laptop. I was planning our next family vacation.

10 pm came and went and it was coming up on 11. I started texting him to find out what was going on. My excitement of a family adventure was now long gone. He wasn’t answering any of my messages. I decided to call. Straight to voicemail. What in the hell? Now I was pissed. Why would he make me worry like this? Where was he at? Who was he with? None of this made any sense. I thought made back to our dinner conversation once more. Again, I started second guessing myself. Was I really that out of line for asking him to come in and help with the baby while I finished making dinner? Maybe it was an asshole thing of me to do. Hell, everybody has a hard day at work sometimes. I could have found a way to make dinner with the baby, by myself.

I fell asleep in a chair that faced the back door. The door we always used to come and go. When I awoke at 2 am, I had a fierce headache and I was quickly right back to where to my worried state of mind before I had fallen asleep. He was still not home. I picked up my phone to find no text messages. I remember thinking that I couldn’t get angry until I knew he was safe. This was so COMPLETELY unlike him that I just knew something terrible had happened. I pictured our Jeep in a ditch somewhere and immediately starting bawling my eyes out and dialing his number. He answered. “Hello?” his tone seemed weird, like he had just answered my call in the middle of the afternoon, while at work, instead of the middle of the night. “Where are you!?” I asked, getting right to the point. “I’ll be home in a little while. Stop calling me. We’ll talk when I get home.” Click.

I knew in that moment that my life, as I currently knew it, was over. While nobody could have ever prepared me for what was to come, I knew it wasn’t going to be pretty. I fell back to sleep, for another hour or so before the back door finally opened and a stranger, my husband, walked in. He told me that he just wanted to go to bed and that he was sorry for keeping me awake. I was somewhat relieved by just the apology, but such a huge part of me didn’t even want to know where he had been. This was completely opposite of who I was at that time. The fact that I didn’t demand an answer that night still boggles my mind. We walked back to the bedroom, and I checked on our girl. She had slept through all of it. She was such a good baby. As we laid down, both of us awkward in the dark silence, I rolled over and asked him if I could ask him just one question, and then we’d talk more tomorrow. He agreed. “Do you still love me?” I whispered. Silence. He finally sighed and answered with “I love you but I’m not sure that I’m in love with you.” I rolled back over and I felt tears, and a lot of them, stream down my face into my pillow. He knew I was crying, but he never once tried to comfort me. I fell asleep to the sound of his snores, which was oddly comforting. Looking back, I know now it was just me acknowledging the fact I wouldn’t be hearing them in my bed for much longer.

 

 

weepingwillowwhit

Mommy doesn’t try

When was the last time you took a step back and evaluated the people currently taking up space in your head? How often are you willingly handing over your time and energy to someone who absolutely does not deserve it? Make a commitment to stop giving away your inner peace.

Two years ago, I met and fell in love with my fiancé. We had both really been threw some crazy shit from our previous marriages, and actually found one another online. (I’ll save that for a completely different post, on another day.)Together, we have three kids who are four, five and eight years old. Their mother decided the kids were better off living with my fiancé and me, and actually suggested he go ahead and move and take his kids with him, and so she essentially gave them up physically but not legally. Her intentions were to go to school and get some sort of degree which would allow her to better her current living situation for herself and the kids. I respected that. My fiancé and his kids moved 4 states away to be with me and my daughter and to build a life together. We were absolutely thrilled at this opportunity. My fiancé started a career in IT that he’s extremely passionate about, and the kids started school/daycare and made friends very quickly. We were happy. The kids were happy. This felt right.

In my heart, I never thought she would actually “give them up”. Being a mother myself, I absolutely thought it was insane to think a mom could give up taking care of her kids.  I  literally crave my daughter’s existence. When she’s with her dad, I don’t even feel like a complete person. Don’t get me wrong, I knew moms walk out of their lives all of the time, but damn…to suggest they move four states away felt so cold. She still calls them and visits about once every 4 months for a weekend, but the calls have gotten much shorter– usually 5 to 10 minutes tops and they’re asking to get off the phone or she’s jetting off to head to the bar or hang out with friends. Often times “her phone is dying and she needs to go.” Some weeks she has 3 to 4 days pass before she attempts to call. Very early on, the kids would ask when she was going to call, but slowly they’ve quit asking/caring.

Overtime, my feelings for her have completely shifted. I find this woman to be absolutely despicable. I can’t stand the sight of her. I hate her voice. I hate the way she promises to “call you tomorrow!” when calls and talks to them in front of her friends or family even though she knows damn good and well that she has no intentions of calling. How? How do you make the choice to not raise your kids and simply go on with life? Since they’ve moved, she has gotten married and sadly become a step-mom herself. Imagine the horror that mom must have felt knowing someone who doesn’t even raise her own kids is now in her child’s life. I can’t imagine.  

I was having internal arguments constantly about what is best for me and my daughter, as well as my relationship with my fiancé. Never in my life had I met someone so dramatic or so over the top. She is the anti-calm. I craved peace and calm. There’s always something going on with her or a reason she can’t call or can’t send money to help with daycare or just basic needs. Early on, I accepted a friend request from her on Facebook. This was long before I knew who she was as a woman. Seeing her go night after night without calling, but still hanging out with friends, going out to eat, and singing karaoke at the bar until the wee hours…I couldn’t deal with it anymore. The hate that filled me little by little each day began to wear me out. She would constantly post about how she was “a damn good mom” who made the ultimate sacrifice for her kids and all of her friends and family would chime in on how wonderful she was. Seriously….puke. Being a mom requires work, and she doesn’t have a working bone in her body.

Then it dawned on me…why am I letting this piece of crap dictate my mood? It was to the point where it was completely unhealthy. I was losing sleep and dealing with a lot of tension headaches. Finally, I made the decision to remove her from seeing anything I posted on Facebook. No more “please tell my babies that mommy loves them” posts under any and every picture I would post. I quit following her so that none of her “Mommy Tried” shares show up. That mommy didn’t try, guys. She’s a loser.

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I realized that if you are giving even a single ounce of energy to a negative shit storm of a person, it is one ounce too many. And you already know the kind, because everyone experiences a shit storm at least once in their life. It’s always something….quick to quit jobs or constantly in between jobs, starts projects or classes but never does any work to actually complete them, new “bestie” with each passing season, craves constant attention in every relationship, creates “Go-Fund Me” accounts for their own personal gain when they aren’t actually experiencing a real crisis, clings to those willing to make them the center of their universe for any amount of time, including their own children. Everything is constantly changing, and yet they somehow continue to stay exactly the same. You can usually find them playing the victim to circumstances they’ve created all by themselves or with their current enablers. Don’t engage. Don’t make eye contact. Avoid at all costs.

Day by day, I’m slowly finding my peace again. I still hate her for what she has done to the kids because they (of course) still want their mom and that’s completely normal and understandable. For now, at least from what I see and hear, she is their hero and I won’t be the person who ever pops that bubble. My feeling towards her are not their business and I have no business trying to change their love and admiration for her. Nobody told me how to love my mom growing up, and I’m certainly not going to try to dictate how they love her. I’m trying.