Thursday, September 16, 2010

Dear Everyone, I'm Sorry

Posted by Anonymous.

A letter to everyone:

To my work wifey, I am sorry for what I am about to say…I would gladly sleep with your husband if given the chance. I never will, out of the fact that you’re married and you’re a great friend to me. But it does not help that there is an obvious mutual attraction that we have both admitted to. We’ve both also said we would never, ever act on it. But please know that if the circumstances were any different, I would gladly sleep with him. When he’s helping inexperienced me saddle up the horse, the look in his eyes is unmistakable. Why do you think I always ask you to help me? But he always jumps in, and you’re all too happy to let him so you can saddle up your horse. He’s a great man, loving, respectful, hard-working in every sense of the phrase, funny, and smart. I fantasize about him quite a bit. I’m sorry, I truly am. This is why I am not over at your house as much as I used to. Because I do not want to see him kissing you, wonder what it would be like if it was me. I know this makes me a horrible person, and I’m sorry.

To my fiancé, I am no longer in love with you and have not been for quite some time. You are a fantastic father, but a horrible partner. We have not made love in over three months. You come home late with no explanation or such a flimsy one; I am convinced you are seeing someone else. You smell like perfume that is not mine. You always have a new reason why you will not touch me. You’re tired, you’re sore, you’re mad at me for [insert small inconsequential thing], or you’re just not in the mood. I stopped trying after a month. That was two months ago. You always have to be right. You have an experts opinion on everything, and there is no such thing as a debate with you. You MUST be right, you cannot fathom that someone else would have a differing opinion. You always seem to find fault with something and yet you are so skillful at doing it. “I’m sorry, and I’m not trying to be rude but…” Can’t I do something 100% right anymore? You seem to think that it’s constructive criticism but when you say that there’s always this long list on what I’ve done wrong. I’m too impatient, too bitchy, not smart enough, don’t know enough, can’t do this, can’t do that…I cannot honestly remember the last time you said something positive or nice to me. And trust me, I sat here for a good ten minutes before I typed out that phrase.

If the constant belittling wasn’t enough, you seem to resent the fact that I have a life outside of the home. You don’t say anything until you’ve got yourself good and pissed then you explode. It is not my fault you’ve alienated all your friends and they never want to be with you. One of your “friends” admitted that he was tired of your cheap & elitist attitude, so he stopped calling. I go out maybe twice a month, which I didn’t think was THAT big of a deal. Most of the time it’s just hanging out with my girlfriends, helping them out with something, whatever. I have tried to explain that I need time away from the baby, you, the house, just to keep my sanity. I have explained the importance of girl-time, and me-time. You cannot fathom why taking a five minute daily shower is not enough. People that have only met you once or twice have commented on how surly you seem to be, and how short you are towards me. I am tired of saying, “Oh he’s just having a bad day. He’s normally not like that.” But you are like this. All the time.

You deposit my paycheck and then drain the bank account without warning. I stopped bothering using the debit card for fear that it would be rejected. It is humiliating to have to ask for $10 to treat myself to lunch ONCE A DAMN MONTH. I am a grown woman who works hard for her money, and I would think 4 years would prove to you that I do not spend money frivolously. Yet you treat me like I’m spending our rent money, or taking food out of our pantry. It is humbling and humiliating. You say you’re “shielding” me from the money stresses of our lives. You seem to forget that I am an accountant by trade. I deal with money and could probably do a better job than you’re currently doing but you control the finances with an iron fist. You REFUSE to let me get involved, and become infuriated when I ask to be so.

You aren’t aware of this yet but I am currently trying to figure out a way to leave you. Despite your protests, you WILL pay child support. You will NOT get her for a week on and a week off. That would mean two daycares and finding a daycare that is kosher with that arrangement would be impossible. No, you will see her every Wednesday and every other weekend, just like your children from your first wife. You will pay child support again. I do not care if you must move back in with your Mother. Tis I that must set up a whole new household, since you own just about everything. New furniture, new deposits, yeah, this is gonna get expensive quick.

I won’t do this to you, but I could nail your ass to a cross for sexual abuse. Oh, yeah, buster, I could. When I say STOP or NO or THAT HURTS, guess what? THAT MEANS YOU STOP. That doesn’t mean you should forge on ahead! You have whittled away my self worth to nothing, and I feel lower than a whore. At least a whore gets paid for services rendered. I get you rolling over and going to sleep. Last time you did that to me, I wanted to simultaneously vomit & crush your hands. I will say this to you….You should be thanking whatever cosmic deity you pray to that I have not told my ex-Special Forces father about this. You see, I’m still his baby girl that he will kill to protect. If he found out his precious baby girl was being molested by her fiancé, he’d have to kill you on principal. Laws be damned, nobody fucks with his little girl.

To my daughter, I am sorry that I can’t be the mother you need me to be. Right now, you’re only two years old. You’re content to blow kisses and proudly show off the new body part you learned that day. But you’re so full of energy, and you want me to run around with you and I have nothing left to give you. Between the demands of my job and trying not to break the eggshells I walk on around your father, it takes a lot out of me. I never wanted to be like my Mama was with me, but I fear I am: always tired, always crying, constant headache, popping anti-depressants like they’re candy. Mama drank pretty heavily, and I used to refill her wine glass all the time to keep her happy. The difference between Mama and I is that I wait until you’re in bed. I don’t get drunk like Mama did, but I know I drink too much. I drink to feel numb from the situation I feel trapped in. I’m sorry that you were given this sorry excuse for a Mama. I try to play with you, paste a smile on my face, and try to find the energy to be the Mama you need. You can’t understand this right now, but most of the time I feel like breaking down and bawling. But you don’t like it when I cry. “Mimi no cry?” you ask, wiping my tears away. No, baby girl, Mimi no cry. Mimi is happy! See Mimi smile! It’s so hard to smile when you feel dead inside, like the very life has been stolen from your soul. But I smile for you, my dear girl. Because you want to see Mimi happy, and because I would give up my life to make you happy. Because you are the only true source of joy in my miserable life anymore, because your smile and laugh makes me fall that much more in love with you. Because your hugs and kisses make me want to shed tears of joy that someone as wonderful and as magnificent as you loves me so completely, though I have done nothing to deserve your unwavering love. I am trying to be the Mama you want and need me to be, but please understand my darling girl…Sometimes Mimi’s do cry.

To my fiancé’s ex-wife…You do not know the rage I have inside of me. It is only the fear of prison time that keeps me in check. Woman, you’re one more snide comment away from getting a black eye, courtesy of yours truly. I may not have a four-figure handbag, but at least I didn’t gang-bang a group of sailors on leave and then do a line off their erect penises. Yeah, bitch, that actually DOES make me better than you. That makes be SCADS better than your coked-out cum guzzling ass. How you haven’t lost custody of the kids is beyond me. But please…DO remark how my purse CLEARLY came from a discount store and YOURS is Gucci and by GOD that makes you a better woman. I trained under my ex-Special Forces Papa, and while I’m certainly not the most threatening thing on two legs, I can fuck. You. UP. And woman, the rage inside me is bubbling just below the surface, courtesy of a fucked-up family dynamic and your lovely ex-husband. When you see me smile when you pull up, it’s not because I’m happy to see you. I’m envisioning ways to maim your skanky ass. For this I am not sorry. I hope you straighten up, but I sincerely doubt that will happen. In the meantime, please just get arrested so the kids can go to their father. Or die. Dying works for me too. The contempt and hatred I hold for you knows no bounds. I think I’m a bad mother, I know you’re an abominable mother.

To everyone that tells me I’m bat shit crazy and need therapy. I’m in therapy, assholes. It’s not fucking working. Y’know what would work!? Lets see here…Oh yeah! My Papa could stop blaming my Mama for everything wrong in his life since they divorced, for starters. My Mama could stop drinking herself into oblivion every night. I wish my twins epilepsy would get under control. She’s losing her memory, her motor skills, and they’re coming without warning. Eventually, it’ll be ME taking care of her. Yet another thing I would happily do so she can FOR ONCE IN HER LIFE know some peace. Her life has been wrought with struggles, pain, and suffering. If taking care of her full time means she can be at peace for once, I will do it. My soon-to-be-ex could stop being such a controlling abusive asshole. Oh, yeah, that’s right, NONE of the above is going to happen any time soon. So I guess in the meantime I’ll have to shut up and plan on leaving.

And smile. Just keep smiling for the one true love of my life.

Monday, September 13, 2010


Posted by Anonymous.

Sometimes I feel like if I don’t write, my head will explode. I don’t even have any privacy for that anymore. He checks my phone, my internet history, everything is suspect the moment I want a little privacy. I don’t have a blog either. No place to put all the words in my head, so they just circle the drain, maddeningly slowly, until they are gone.

The feelings that inspired them just pile up. They never go anywhere even when the words are no longer there.

I am so sad lately. Angry too. But the anger is at myself. I’m 39 years old. I should have known better than to find myself here, again. Why did I ever marry a man who doesn’t like me? Only a few months ago, in fact. And now I can see, he doesn’t like anything about me, nothing I do is good enough….certainly he certainly isn’t in love with me…. I have come to realize I simply can’t please him. He is never happy and always looking for something to criticize. No effort I ever make is good enough.

I myself, I have come to realize, am not good enough for this man. I can’t remember the last time he really smiled at me or made eye contact that wasn’t an angry glare. We never make love, seldom even “have sex” and when we do, it’s fast and rough and there’s no joy in it….I miss that loving touch and the beauty of that so much I can taste tears in my throat just thinking about it. No one but my kids ever touches me
anymore, no one really ever smiles at me. No one ever talks to me in a kind and concerned voice, to the point I teared up hearing a compassionate and caring tone from my doctor last week.

I feel so stupid. I knew this was what I was getting into…I knew I wasn’t going to be cherished, treasured, respected, prioritized, adored. I suspected he was using me and marrying me as a means to an end in his custody battleway to get more time with his kids. He didn’t propose, he just told me the kids were “ready” for us to get married. I feel so stupid and so, so ashamed. I can’t even pretend to be surprised, I knew all of it. He never urged me to do anything for myself, even buy a nice
dress for the wedding instead of the cheapest one. My dress was $13… his suit was $500….did I mention I paid for it all, and put the last of my savings on a downpayment for his new truck, while I drive a real clunker? There was , and has been, no mention of a honeymoon, nothing. Not even a wedding night somewhere special. Didn’t I think I deserved more?

All we have done since then is fight. He is sure there is, or has been, another man. Every day he turns something into “proof” of that and accuses me of all manner of nastiness. If I defend myself, he self-righteously claims that’s “proof” too. I want to take a lie detector test but he refuses to participate because his ego can’t handle the idea anyone would find out the lengths I’d have to go to get him to believe me. Also because (I secretly think) once I passed it, he wouldn’t be able to stay mad at me, and he enjoys that too. Because if I am tripping all over myself
defending his accusations against wrong numbers and texts to girlfriends and why I was 5 minutes late, he still has the upper hand, and I am not an equal.

We are in counseling. Already. We had homework, about my feelings. They are still sitting on my dresser three weeks later. He won’t ask to see it or talk about it. It will sit there until I get so embarrassed and hurt that I pretend it’s lost just so I don’t have to deal with it anymore.

The Dr. is running tests in a few weeks to see if I have something seriously wrong….maybe cancer even. It’s not likely, but even so. I just wanted him to hold me. To act upset that something might take me from him. To seem concerned in any
way. Instead he just told me I was probably in menopause and nitpicked me for not staying at the office and having the tests run right then., with my mother there (oh hell no.) There was no kiss, no stroking me, no kindness, no concern. I fell asleep
and dreamed he got upset and said he couldn’t stand the idea of anything happening to me. But it didn’t happen. , really. It won’t. Yesterday he got up and stormed out because I didn’t say “bless you” when he sneezed. But I guess I don’t deserve
his concern and comfort when I’m really scared.

Here it is the next day and all we have done is fight some more. He made a nice dinner and gave me a card, and now he’s insisting I haven’t “tried”. I have tried so hard and nothing’s ever been enough. I am tired of failing with every effort. I “try”
every day. It’s all I think about- how NOT to make him mad. I just want to hear something nice. Something kind and loving. Instead I hear how disrespectful and callous I am for being 5 minutes “late” home from the store or I get ridiculed at a
family gathering for how I am so stupid for flushing a tampon.

I used to be pretty, and smart and a good mom. I had nice things, I drove a nice car and wore pretty clothes. My house was clean. My kids got good grades. I used to have friends and people had nice things to say about me. I liked myself. I believed in myself and I had dreams. I wish sometimes I hadn’t. Maybe if I had never had that I wouldn’t have such a hard time with this, being no one.

Every day is a struggle, nothing I do is ever good enough to matter. I work harder than I ever have, and its not enough to make anyone happy. I am invisible and unappreciated. I literally cannot remember the last time I felt whole. I think
about ending my life all the time, I don’t see any way that this will get better. I can hardly bear the idea of another 20 years of days like these- working and working and working with no one to hold me or love me or appreciate me. No one to ever smile
at me or laugh with me; no one to ever tell me I am special or smart or worthwhile. Just an endless stream of accusations and criticism and cold rejection….right now the only thing that keeps me here is a promise I made my grandfather- and
the thought of someone telling my baby girl that I left her on purpose. So I just go through the motions and I wait and see. I can’t put my kids through another divorce. No one wants to hear that you are in ANOTHER bad marriage. My family knows something’s wrong but they cant handle it and so they are turning a blind eye. I can’t leave. But I don’t know what happens to me if I stay. I am disappearing a little bit every day. At least sometimes in my dreams, he still loves me and I
am still good enough.

Wednesday, September 08, 2010

The Problem With Porn

Posted by Anonymous.

It started off as "one of those days" and it's turning into "one of those weeks." I'm happily married, or so I thought, I have a beautiful son who is about to turn a year old and a hard working husband. Just last week I found out that he's been watching pornography. I researched and researched and I get the technicality of it. How it has nothing to do with how happy he is with me, that it doesn't mean I'm unattractive to him, and someone compared men and porn to women and fashion. I didn't buy any of these explanations. When I confronted him about it I asked him if he was unhappy with me, or if I wasn't enough anymore. He said, "Men just watch porn. It doesn't mean they're not happy." I told him I considered it cheating and he opposed. The thing that bothers me the most is that a few weeks ago we had been discussing the subject and somehow it came up and he explained to me that when men watch porn they imagine themselves being the man on screen. That just keeps running through my head. How can that NOT be cheating? HOW?! You are imagining yourself with another woman that's not your wife.

This is slowly tearing me up from he inside out. I already feel myself falling away from him. Already know I'm going into a depression. I might be overreacting but I really feel cheated. I feel inadequate. I don't care what the "experts" say. It's not right. I just don't know what to do. I know he's not going to stop, and it hurts me so much to know that. I feel like our marriage is a lie. Sex is intimate, and should be shared with your partner. Not by yourself as you fantasize about some other person. For anyone who might suggest for me to watch it with him I refuse. It makes me nauseous.

Wednesday, September 01, 2010

Utterly Miserable

Posted by Anonymous.

I'm so sorry, but I'm utterly miserable here.

You have been great this last week, putting on this little act. But I know it'll disappear and you'll be this uncaring, unaffectionate person again that finds fault in every little thing I do. It's happened before and it'll happen again.

We never touch each other anymore, despite my advances. I asked you if you were seeing someone else and you blew me off. Is she at least prettier than I? I am pretty sure you're seeing someone else. You come home from a 4-hour haircut smelling like cheap perfume. You work late but your paycheck doesn't have any overtime on it.
You're also abusive. You've never hit me, this much is true. But you control every penny of our finances and make me feel like a spendthrift for daring to need a new pair of jeans since my old ones fell apart. You get mad when I need things like shampoo or soap and I have to beg for $10 to put gas in the Jeep.

You make me do things in bed that hurt, and I don't like them. You keep forcing them on me, and telling me I'll learn to like it. I don't like it, B, I never have. I've told you that and you keep doing it to me. Why do you degrade me in such a way? I've been a mother to your kids when your exwife was out getting drunk, and I'm the mother of our daughter. Haven't you seen the tears when you're doing this to me? Of course not, the lights are out and you probably don't care.

Thanks to you, B, my self esteem and self-worth are no longer there. I feel like the lowest scum on the planet right now. I cry constantly, I'm a nervous wreck, and I'm not too far from a nervous breakdown.

You're not aware of this, but I've signed a lease on a new apartment. I haven't told you yet because I am scared out of my mind and my heart is breaking. I know this will cripple you financially, and I'm sorry. For what it's worth, half of my income will go for rent. It's the only place I found that isn't in the middle of gang land. I can barely afford it, but at least I know every night won't be an episode of cops.

I hate to see you move back in with your parents, but I have to do this. I hate to do this to our daughter, who will not see you every day now. She adores you so much, she lights up when she sees you. But I know if I gave her over to you before we had a custody agreement in place, you wouldn't give her back to me. At least until everything was finalized, which you've said before you'll drag out as long as you can to spite me in the past.

God, B, I love you so much despite what you've put me through the last 4 years. But I cannot do this anymore. I am so utterly miserable, I hate coming home. Your touch makes me cringe for fear that you're going to do something to me that I don't like.
I love you, B. I love you more than you can ever fathom. But I cannot stay here when I am so utterly miserable that I would sooner die. Which, if I stay, that's what will happen. My soul will die inside and I'll be that Mama that cries all the time and never smiles.

Good-bye, B.