Month: August 2018

The Grief that Keeps on Giving

~ TheCobblersDaughter ~ 2 Comments

Stop me if you’ve heard this. Ten years ago, I was a happily married woman with three kids. On my 40th birthday, I looked out of the picture window of my living room and thought, “I’ve never been so happy.” My husband was an introvert, and I’m an extrovert, and we complemented each other just about perfectly. We really dug each other physically, spiritually, and intellectually. We’d been together 11 years.

Over the next several months, while my husband was earning his graduate degree, I felt overwhelmed with work and the kids, and I perceived my husband’s turning inward as turning away. I also thought he loved the one child we had together more than he loved me. For whatever reason, I was afraid to confront him with this information and figured things would simply work out as they always had before.

A guy at work with whom I’d been collaborating closely started inviting me to coffee, talking about his miserable marriage, and started flirting with me via text message. I was so in love with my husband, I didn’t think twice about any of this until it was too late. The guy chased me until I relented. We had a  three week affair and then he dumped me. To say I was devastated barely covers it–for the next several months, I hid in my room, drank alone, and dreaded seeing my husband’s family.

When I finally came clean about the affair, my husband was sad. He had to see the guy at work. My husband and I went to marriage counseling. We took weekend trips to try and reconnect. But because the “guy” was still around, it became too much for my husband. He put a GPS tracker on my phone, looked up the number of text messages through ATT, and insisted I quit my job. I put up with all of this until he turned violent. I had to kick him out of the house. He filed for divorce almost immediately.

My soon to be ex husband and I kept a cordial coparenting relationship for the kids. We sat together at Christmas concerts, sporting events, and graduations. He never really forgave me for the affair, but at least we could be in the same room. Then, in November 2016, five years after our divorce was final, my ex husband and I started hanging out together as friends. He said, “I’d like to rebuild the deep friendship we had when we were married.” We had monthly conversations, went out for beers, watched TV, and hung out with our son.

From February 2017 to July 2017, my ex husband and I casually dated. He kept saying he didn’t want a commitment with anyone, and we would see where this would go. I thought it was the least I could do since he had convinced me I single handedly ruined our marriage. Aug 12, 2017. My ex husband went to his high school reunion. The next afternoon, he shared funny stories with me.

He had been becoming more distant since July, and I figured he was still gun shy. We still went on a few dates, however, he made no moves beyond a platonic relationship. One time, he even asked me for recommendations on bed sheets. Sep 22, I told my ex I wanted to spend more time with him. He said, “I reconnected with someone at the reunion, and we’ve been seeing each other.” I said, “When you said you didn’t want a commitment, you just meant with me.”

Do you think the woman was unfettered? Nothing like me? A fresh start for my ex hubby? Think again. “Jill” was in the midst of an acrimonious divorce, had three kids, and had been dumped by her husband for …wait for it… having a 15 month affair with a man who lived in Europe, several fake FB accounts, drunken violence, and a secret trip abroad.”

Jill was a mean girl in high school who wouldn’t give my ex the time of day back then, when he was chubby and obnoxious. He adored her, however, and felt all “those feelings come flooding back.” When they reconnected at the reunion, my ex was the ONLY single guy there. Jill, depressed and rejected, somehow convinced him that they were “star crossed lovers” who were destined to be together. Then the love bombing began. Letters. Cards. Photos. Collages. All in the first few weeks of dating, proclaiming ever lasting love.

Although Jill lived seven hours away with her husband and kids in a million dollar home, she drove to our hometown about ten times over a month and a half to put her hooks into my ex. When he told me who it was, I said, “Ew. The girl with the fake eyelashes who gave me the dead fish handshake when we met? She’s such a bitch.” Her husband finally kicked her out of the family house in October.

Today: my ex and I no longer have a relationship. Jill has made sure of that. I have no idea what lies she has told him, but I’m guessing they are about her millionare husband who always took care of the kids, and didn’t make her work outside the home more than 15 hours a week. They guy who bought her three cars and took her back after the first affair. What an asshole.

My ex defends her to the death. He has spent weeks away from our son, doesn’t care about anything but her, and when he got fired from his job, instead of looking for another one, he drove to her new place (3200 dollars a month and funded by the estranged husband) and stayed for days at a time, sometimes without telling me or our son. It’s the perfect fantasy. For them.

When I asked my ex how he could be dating someone who cheated on her husband twice, he said, “She didn’t cheat on me.” Everyone keeps telling me what a jerk he is and what losers they both are, and to put them out of my mind. However, when you come so close to rebuilding your family and watch it get ripped apart because of two people in a mid life crisis, it’s hard to watch it disappear without feeling a huge sense of loss.

Dump the Narc — Keep the Dogs

~ TheCobblersDaughter ~ Leave a comment

If you’ve ever dated a narcissist, you will identify with this post. If you haven’t ever dated a narcissist, you’re damn lucky. Few experiences make you question your self-worth, sanity, and reason to live more than being “loved” then dumped by a narcissist. I say dumped because they are people who dispose of things and people once they are used up. The first time the narc came to my house, my black lab chewed up his phone charger. Smart dog.

“Narcs” love vulnerable people. You know, widows, the broken-hearted, the poor bastard going through a mid life crisis. And the worst part is they are exactly whom you were looking for. The rescuer. The comedian. The princess. The prince. This is because they are chameleons, changing shades and personalities to be everything you had ever hoped for. Love live music? So do they. Love politics? So do they. And if you like hiding from the rest of the world, they love that best. You will find yourself saying “I can’t believe how alike we are.”

However, the moment you begin to show a sense of self outside the narc’s view, beware. The narc is king and you are merely a subject. Avoid telling truth to power if you want to stay in the narc’s good graces. Otherwise, you will be out on your can. And don’t ever criticize–you will be extracted from their life.

One narc I dated drew me in with promises of intimacy and closeness. We had a long distance relationship, consisting of FaceTime, text messages, and emails. When we did interact in person, we were electric. He was sarcastic and cute, and I really liked him. However, his decades long pot habit had given him the memory of an errant puppy, and when I called him on it he flew into a rage.

The narc often told me to wait in the car when he stopped by a friend’s house, or the store. I thought, What the hell? Is this the 50s? He once turned to me and said, “There’s stuff in the fridge. Go make us a couple of sandwiches.” I started laughing hysterically. He said, “What’s so funny?” I thought he was joking. And yes, I made the sandwiches.

One morning after breakfast in a diner, the narc introduced me to his friend who was thinking of joining the army. I talked to this young man about my stint in the navy and how I went to college and grad school. The narc interrupted and said, “She also sells crack to kids.” On the walk to the car, I said, “Why did you do that?” The narc went bananas! “Can’t you take a fucking joke?” The narc had never finished high school.

I knew we were over when the narc barked an order at me and I said, jokingly, “Quit telling me what to do.” Right there, mid vacation, (we had three days left) he said, “I think we’d be better off as friends.” This from the guy who said we belonged together forever. I walked to the bedroom and started crying.

Over the next three days, the narc and I acted like roommates. He went back to his town, and during a long phone conversation in which we truly broke up, the narc said “Tell everyone this break up was mutual. Don’t put that shit on FB. You will look like an immature drama queen.” Would you believe I listened to him?

Luckily, the narc and I only dated a few months, and yet, I was reeling. I started running long distances and imagined his lying face beneath my right foot every time it hit the pavement. Ahhhh. Ahhh. Ahhh. I spent a lot of time crying that December.

After our mutual friends learned about the break up, they told me, “He’s a huge loser. We couldn’t figure out why you were with him.” I rolled my eyes. I fell for him because I had lost my father and the narc came to his funeral. I was so tuuched. We started texting, he called me “Baby” (puke), and the rest is history.

The red flags were abundant and waving. I should have known the minute Gus chewed his phone cord that the narc was not accepted by my very smart dog. Looking back, I see this as a wonderful learning experience. My antenna are up, and I have taken a haitus from dating. Until then, I will hang with my dogs.