Claiming the center.

Awhile back a dear friend asked me if I had claimed the center of the bed yet? I wasn’t sure what she meant, so she basically asked if I was still sleeping on “my” side of the bed even though I was the only one in said bed. I told her I hadn’t and she said “you need to claim that bitch” or something along those lines. So, I did.

It lasted about two days and then I was back on my side of a queen size bed. I had thrown away the bed linens we shared simply because I looked at them as tainted. She would be with the POS and then come home to me. But I still remained on my side of “our” bed. And then I realized something. I guess I still considered it “our” bed. After all of the betrayal and the pain and the loneliness it still remained in my head and my habits as my side and her side. Old habits die hard, old memories die even harder.

So this past week I looked at the bed and realized it still had a pillow on “her” side. Like there were still two people sleeping in this bed. Well that shit had to end. I removed the pillow, put mine in the middle, and claimed the center of my bed. I can flop around if I want, I can sleep crossways if I want, I can fall asleep with the light on and a book on my chest if I want (a common occurrence). I can do anything I damn well please in MY bed. I can eat, drink, tweet, text, (okay I’m stopping here) in MY bed.

I may not have a lot of control over things in the next few months, but I can choose to take back what’s mine and not let anything else be taken from me.

My sanity, self esteem and my will to live were almost taken from me, but I persevered thanks to many, many people who were there for me at my absolute lowest. Crazy thing is, most of them were total strangers hidden behind anonymity and fake names, but we all shared a common denominator that none of us asked for.

I’m feeling the old me coming back. A much more empathetic me, but still mostly old me. I like old me. He’s an okay guy with a bunch of shit jokes, sarcasm and a lot of love to give with a new sense of self and awareness.

I hope you all get to take back or find what you need in order to move on and realize that what happens to you doesn’t have to define you.

This is MY time and YOUR time to take back the center, of whatever it is that brings you joy and happiness and the self realization that you’re so worth it!


The gift of perspective.

So today was Fathers Day. All 3 of my children were here to celebrate me, their Dad. They made me dinner and those of age shared a drink with their old man. It was a fun day, as they always are when we all come together as a family. I had a good day and it wasn’t just because my kids were here. It’s because I gained some perspective in my life and things became a bit clearer as to what I need to fret over and what I should be thankful for.

You see, the day before Fathers Day my stbx and the AP (POS) decided to post a Facebook video for all to see sharing their secret of a solid Christian relationship. *Take your time to let that sink in, or let the bile settle back down in your stomach *

So anyhoo, since I’m not on Facebook some family decided to share it with me. Although I only watched maybe 30 seconds of it as it is still kind of painful to see your wife talking about love and respect and Jesus while staring into the eyes of her infidelity partner, I’m grateful they shared it as I’ve been blindsided enough without this creeping into my life at a later date. The video truly shows two lost, narcissistic, sociopaths who found each other and will eventually devour each other’s souls.

I’m not going to lie, it upset me and with her not having any contact with virtually anyone in her family, I highly doubt the timing of the video (Fathers Day weekend) was a coincidence. As my family started to leave comments such as: “Hey, how does Jesus feel about the whole adultery thing”? she removed the video and blocked them. This video was a HUGE mistake on her part and showed how mentally ill she is thinking it was a good idea. If she had anyone hanging on, this might’ve been the last straw. She purposely humiliated me in one comment and outright lied also.

With all that on my mind, something made me go into my DM’s and I noticed one of the tribe hasn’t been on in awhile and I simply reached out to say Hi and hoped she was doing well. What she said, was exactly what I needed to hear. I hope she doesn’t mind my sharing what she said, but since I haven’t mentioned who it is, I don’t think she’ll mind. This is what she shared:

Hi!! Happy Father’s Day! I’m doing really well! I hit this turning point with my friend who has stage 4 cancer and is in the fight for her life. It made me see that I’m ok. It literally changed my perspective. I realized that I have zero complaints. My problems are 100% solvable. And for the first time, I was able to see my ex husband as a human. I can’t explain it, but I was able to let it go. All pain, and the hurt .. I was able to say that in the end, he hurt my feelings. He hurt my feelings and it’s ok. It’s ok that he hurt my feelings. And in that little space, I was able to breathe and find a bit of freedom. So, I come to check Twitter now and then. How are you my friend?

There is no such thing as coincidence. I needed to hear this and put my problems in perspective. I then reached out to a dear, special friend to tell her about this message and she shared this:

I have a coworker who’s Niece just turned 21 and has been disabled all her life. Wasn’t supposed to live passed age 5. Well, her shunt in her brain was blocked and she had to be airlifted to a bigger hospital and coded on the helicopter. She’s now on life support and won’t survive. Her father is battling stage 4 pancreatic cancer. The mom of this girl is going to lose her husband and her only child in the same year. It’s been heavy on my heart all day It makes me grateful for the small problems I have. Everything in our lives is fixable. We can solve all of our problems and keep moving forward. I think that’s why I keep a Blessings Jar & Gratitude journal. It’s so easy to get blind sided by the struggles and let them grow bigger than they deserve,but we all have to get to that realization on our own. It takes an aha moment. That was yours maybe

Ughh, reality is subtle sometimes and sometimes it kicks you in the dick. These were messages I needed to hear. My children are healthy and safe. I have my own health and am blessed beyond measure with kind, caring, loving people in my life who have my back. I can’t control what she does, but I can control how it affects me. I’m tired of being the betrayed husband. I’m tired of feeling like somehow, because of HER horrible life choices, I’m the one who is hurting. I’m tired of this defining my life. Yes, it was an awful, painful thing to do to someone, but concerning the messages, my TC says: “I listened to the God whisper” and I’m going with that.

It may have been a whisper, but I heard it loud and clear.

The spackle of the broken.

I haven’t written a blog for awhile. I’m not sure why, no excuses. God knows I’ve got plenty to say.

I’m in a much better place emotionally and maybe I didn’t want to screw it up with touching on things that might spiral me back down into the mind trap of despair and loss.

I’ve been thinking about (and occasionally using) the term “broken” lately. A little over a year ago I would’ve never associated that term with a human. It was reserved for electronics, cars, tools, dishes, and the occasional lease. Now, people are the first thing that comes to mind when I hear it.

I was broken. She broke me. She broke my heart, my family, and very near my will to live.

But then something happened. Not all at once. Oh God no. But over the months I could feel the cracks being repaired. I like to call it “The spackle of the broken”.

It’s kindness. It’s compassion. It’s empathy. It’s quite simply love. The love of others whether it’s family, friends, church, or the most amazing and honestly the most surprising, the support and love shown by complete strangers online who have come together in some very unfortunate circumstances. These amazing people which we all call our tribe are singly the most important part of my healing. It still blows my mind to think that’s even possible, but we all know it is. We laugh, we cry, we flirt, we poke, we support we advise,and most importantly we listen and we don’t judge.

All these greatest of human traits, love, compassion, empathy, kindness, all of them, are the spackle that’s filling in the cracks of my brokenness.

I was broken., but I’m not anymore. I’m cracked, and they are disappearing as I get back my Mojo and can now truly see what lies ahead. It’s not frightening anymore. It’s still not known, but it doesn’t matter. I’m going to be okay, and it’s all I wish for all of you beautiful people. To be okay and find your Mojo and get back what was taken from you. ❤️

Human touch.

If you follow me on Twitter, you probably know that recently I had an MRI. It was on my shoulder and I suppose it’s just part of getting older and what not.

During the part where they numbed my shoulder and injected the dye, there was a nurse who was assisting the PA. He would warn me about how I was going to feel a slight pressure, or this one is going to be a little more painful than the others. While he was saying these things, the nurse would rub my calf and reassure me.

None of it hurt. What did bring tears to my eyes was her empathy. And her touch. It wasn’t by any means sexual, and I didn’t take it that way. What I did realize was that I REALLY miss the human touch. I get hugs all the time, but this was different. It just made me melancholy for the warmth of contact.

I miss it, all of it. The male/female hug, the chance to put my arm around someone, spooning before we would fall asleep, and of course the sexual contact that we had for 30+ years. It’s a huge part of all of our lives, and for over a year now, it’s been absent.

My trust issues suck right now understandably, but someday I hope to have the contact back. Not for a day, or a weekend, those I’m guessing are attainable. I’m talking about the kind of contact that literally makes you suck air, makes you shiver, makes you smile and has you thinking about it during the day. It just pops into your head and brings a smile to your face. That’s what I want again.

I may find it again, who knows, but I know that the longer I go without it, the more I miss it.

I was made for the long haul. I just need to be patient and see who is out there that wants the same.

A loss is a loss, a death is a death.

I ran into a woman from my old church last weekend. She was wearing a long winter coat with the hood up and I didn’t realize it was her until she dropped the hood and said “Hi”.

A little back story. Her husband was killed in a freak traffic accident about 3-1/2 years ago. He was a father of three and a great guy. He was 43. He was also a grade school teacher so to say this death impacted a lot of lives would be an understatement.

After D-Day my closest friend who was texting me constantly, keeping my spirits up and generally checking that I wasn’t planning anything nefarious shared something the widow had told him.

She said right after her husbands death, she didn’t think she could handle the waves of grief that were washing over her. But, with time, the waves got smaller and more manageable. They still came, but with much less intensity and frequency.

I’ve seen her here and there since D-Day but we’ve never spoke of it.

When I saw her last weekend we immediately hugged and just looked at each other and I could tell she knew. Not of the betrayal, everyone knows about that. But she knew, she just knew. The pain, the anxiety, the loneliness, the crushing depression, the loss.

She asked how I was and I asked the same. She shared how her Dr. had put her on antidepressants. She’s off now, but if he didn’t, she said she was becoming an alcoholic. We spoke of our children and the need for therapy.

In the end, we both had tears in our eyes and she just said” it sucks, it all just sucks”. I couldn’t speak anymore, so I just said “we’ll talk” and I left.

Most of my family and my stbx’s family have treated her betrayal like a death. It’s the death of the wonderful person that we knew. The wife, the daughter, the sister, the aunt, the Mom.

I’ve always thought to myself that this is worse than a death. Her husband didn’t choose to leave his wife and kids. He didn’t leave that morning and say “I love you, but I’m not “in” love with you, or another classic ” neither of us wanted it to happen”. She has no chance of running into her husband with another woman.

I don’t like to compare my situation with hers because unless you’ve been through it, that comparison seems unfair. But it is fair in my eyes. The death of my marriage, my intact family, all of our hopes and dreams. They’re dead. She killed them.

The waves are much smaller these days, sometimes it’s even calm as glass out there. I know my friend and I will be fine someday. It’ll just take time. And then we’ll talk.

The AP

I’ve been struggling lately not to act on my feelings towards the AP in my story.

A little background first.

My stbx is self employed as a hair stylist. She decided to start giving massages after getting them herself for several years.

My trust in her morals and integrity were enough to let me go along with this idea.

I was wrong.

She met him when she went into a vitamin/wellness shop. She was always quite flirtatious when approaching possible clientele, sometimes in front of me, but I stupidly wrote it off as her way to build her business. I actually had said “whatever it takes”. Oops.

I mentioned he worked in a vitamin shop. A forty eight yr old “man” working in a vitamin shop.

She had known him for a couple years at least before D-Day. I met him. He was quite forgettable to be honest. I didn’t give him a second thought because he was quite effeminate and definitely not her type so I thought. I knew nothing of his background because like I said, I didn’t give him a second thought.

He was heavily into Facebook and constantly posted Christian word salad posts. Lots of memes and such. I’ve never been on Facebook so I didn’t see much except what she would show me now and then. I believe this is where it began.

After D-Day I had several people say “I knew it was him”, he liked everything she posted no matter what”. Side note; if you ever see this, please point it out to someone. It may be nothing, or it may be everything.

Anyhoo, This blog is about this piece of shit.

I’m not under any illusion that she wasn’t 50% of the betrayal, but let me explain how I see it.

I’ve posted about his “past” but I’ll refresh your memories or fill in those who aren’t on Twitter.

He’s a deadbeat “dad” who been married 3 times. His first marriage produced a profoundly handicapped son. In my flurry of investigating his past like we all do thinking it’s going to make a difference, I actually contacted his 1st wife. I asked if she was the one that he got the spousal abuse charge on. She was, and after her initial shock of me tracking her down (Thank you Google and my own late night obsession), she was quite lovely and forthcoming in her answers.

She explained that they had got into a fight one night and she scratched him and he hit her. His drunk friend told him to call the cops and he did. She spent an hour in jail, he spent 5 days. A month later he punched her again and she left. She said he always contacted and flirted with other women and she thought he cheated ,but she never caught him. It was a short email messaging session but she left me with this.

“We had a son together. His name is Preston and he is twenty five years old. He is tube fed and diapered. He (theAP) has made no effort to see him since he was 3 yrs. old. This should tell you everything you need to know about what kind of “man” he is”. She remarried and her second husband raised her son like he was his own.

The AP has a record. 9 small claims against him for non payment, theft from the vitamin shop (which took place the night she left me), and of course the spousal abuse.

This is the person I was replaced with. His online bio says he’s a “life coach” and he also dabbles in other life changing horse shit.

As far as anyone can tell, he has no clientele. I’m not sure how he makes a living since losing that sweet gig at the vitamin shop.

One last thing.

On December 28th 2018, my son and I drove to her shop to surprise her and take her out for dinner.

We were sitting in the parking lot and I could see her massage door was closed so I assumed she had a client. I waited until she came out and I could see her in the window and I texted her and said “you look pretty”. She obviously didn’t see it right away because the next thing I knew, a guy came out and walked right in front of my truck and looked at me and froze. I recognized him as I had met him before. He continued over to MY wife’s car and started it. As it was winter out, I didn’t think twice about it because it was like her to have a male client do something like that.

What happened next I will take to my grave. That Mother Fucker walked up to my window, with our SON sitting next to me and shook my hand and introduced himself. I told him we had met and then he went back inside her shop for a minute and then left.

He had just fucked my wife and then shook my hand…with my son next to me…

Like I said, I’ll take it to my grave.

A Brotherhood/Sisterhood .

I was just reading a post from @betrayedAug3118 on Twitter and all of the responses from beautiful, caring, compassionate, online friends and all of a sudden my mind pictured all of us as one. We were all squished together I guess in a mass of feelings and emotions and empathy and quite frankly Love.

We don’t “know” each other really. Not in a physical/visual sense anyway. We all met online for the same unfortunate, terrible, avoidable reason. INFIDELITY.

I could feel the support that was coming her way as she poured out her heart to her online tribe. Her struggles, her doubts, her heartache, all of it being validated by those that can relate.

I’m not sure how people did it before the internet. Yes, they were probably tougher, maybe more resilient, but they were still human. Did they suck it up? Was their support system bigger, stronger?

I doubt it. I think they just endured in their brokenness. They got up each morning and got ready for their day just like all of us. They slogged through whatever it was they had to do, and maybe they had someone to bounce things off of, but nothing like what we have now. We literally have countries if not continents listening to us.

We’re all going through something, and now we have so many more caring people who have “been there-done that” and can offer something worthwhile, even if it’s just a virtual ((hug)). I speak for me when I say I think that showing support for other’s has been as important to my healing as the support I have received.

I for one am so grateful for the online support of all of my tribe. I’m not sure where I’d be without you all. I would be alive, but I’m not so sure I’d be living.

We will persevere.

We will thrive.

I thank you all for everything you’ve given me and taught me. You know who you are.

We will make it through to the other side together, as a family.

An unorthodox family, but a family all the same. XOXO