by Band Back Together | Dec 17, 2010 | Codpendence, Coping With Divorce, Divorce, Infidelity |
I finally told you I wanted a divorce.
You forced me into this corner and I have no other way out. You cheated on me – again – with your daughter’s mother, and who knows who else. Just like all of the other times, you never came clean. I never got the full story. You apologize and expect me to move on, but I can’t do it anymore.
It’s never going to stop and I can’t be that woman – the woman who always looks the other way. It eats me up inside trying to figure out what was said, who you were with, and when you had time to do it. And why? Why would you do this to me? What did I do to deserve this? What is wrong with me that almost all of the men I have been with have cheated on me?
You seem surprised that the people in my life who care about me are mad at you. I’m not sure what you expect from everyone. These people actually care about me and my welfare. They know what you’ve done to me isn’t right. I know it’s not right either, but part of me just wants to try to forget about it. I am not emotionally detached. I still love you. I was still trying to make this marriage work.
One of the hardest things I will ever do is to leave you. You know I hate to be alone. I need to be around people all the time. I know I am going to be so lonely. You were my best friend and now I will have no one.
One of your “friends” called last night. I can’t believe that you don’t have enough respect for me to wait – wait until we are separated. I asked you to move out but you say you have no where to go. What am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to live with you for the next couple of months when it is so obvious that you are already moving on? I cried myself to sleep last night, and you asked why I was crying. What do you think? That I am some kind of emotionless robot? That I would just move on since you have?
For the most part, I am holding it together for my kids. I don’t know how much longer I can do that.
I am hoping that going to counseling will help. This is eating me up inside so bad. Lord knows I don’t need any more stuff to make me depressed.
I do not want to go back to that place.
by Band Back Together | Dec 11, 2010 | Infidelity, Jealousy, Stress, Trauma, Trust |
There is nothing worse than knowing that the man you are supposed to spend the rest of your life with has betrayed you.
I still have the wrath of a betrayed woman.
You see, I’ve been through more than one betrayal. I’ve experienced one too many affairs in my short marriage, but I have managed to rebuild that broken trust over and over again. I have forgotten the pain over and over until one day it’s all too late and everything finally shatters to pieces.
Now I can smile. I am thankful that after nearly 7 months of trying to find a job after leaving the corporate world, after moving halfway across the world to be with that man with whom I thought was going to grow old with, I can finally smile again.
But tucked inside me is that bitter feeling that still pops up once in awhile.
There are always those little things that kick me in the gut. Things hurt like seeing other mixed couples and the way I seethe with jealousy inside thinking, “Let’s see how long this guy will stay faithful to his wife,” to a simple song that used to be ‘ours’ or just going to the places we went as a family.
Memories have been shattered. Dreams that were never fulfilled. A son lost the family he know. Broken and bruised – that’s how I still feel underneath all my smiles and laughter.
The pain is so unbearable sometimes that even when I think that I’m used to it, it sneaks in on me and ambushes me when I least expect it.
When I look at those young girls clinging to their boyfriends, I wonder how many of these guys ditched their families the way mine did. It pains me to see how some women have no respect whatsoever for themselves or their children.
How could he walk out on my son and I? The two who have been there for him? Granted, I wasn’t eligible for Wife Of The Year, but I did try my hardest and bent over backwards to save what was left of the marriage. Yet when I think about how one-sided the ‘repair work’ was or how much he had mentally checked himself out, I was left with no more strength.
My heart breaks for my son who hasn’t seen his father in months. His father is too drunk from lust for this much-younger woman so he never even calls his son. In the past 8 months, he has only called his son once and that’s because I begged him to.
Being betrayed by my husband with a younger woman felt like a slap! It crushed my self-esteem.
If she was beautiful maybe that would be a different story, but she will always be ugly in my eyes, not only because of her looks but because of her behaviors. She knew he was married and still went after him. She’s milking him like there’s no tomorrow, from having him pay for her online school, to opening up an online travel business, down to paying to set up her business website. He did it all while he said he couldn’t spare any money to pay for my son’s preschool.
If she was smart, maybe that would be a different story but it felt like a yet another blow reading her poorly constructed, doesn’t-even-make-any-sense English. How on Earth are they communicating? Is he able to carry out the same kind of discussions he and I used to?
It wasn’t until one of my close friends told me that he’s not looking for someone beautiful or smart. He picked someone who is much less than me so he could feel superior. It feeds his ego. Is that true? I don’t know. All I know is she’s a much younger girl, almost young enough to be his daughter and she’s single. She’s also tiny and petite!
But knowing how he had repeatedly cheated on me and on his first wife (yes, I called the ex and we compared stories which were shockingly similar) then it’s only a matter of time before he gets the itch to cheat again. This time, I will not fall victim!
It may take years to really mend myself from within, but I’ll take that road rather than driving myself to the loony bin with all the lies and deceptions.
by Band Back Together | Dec 1, 2010 | Abortion, Abortion Recovery, Abuse, Anxiety Disorders, Coping With Domestic Abuse, Domestic Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Infidelity, Major Depressive Disorder |
I can’t believe it has been 15 years since I meet him. There are days it feel like it was just yesterday. I knew his past – his Dad killed himself when he was young and he rebelled. He still did things that you would expect a troubled youth to do, but that stuffed seemed to stop once we started dating.
I can’t really complain about the first year and a half of the 3 years we were together. We were a normal, young couple in love. Everyone thought we were a happy couple. Then I got pregnant. It wasn’t planned, but I was young and “thought” I was in love.
That’s when you started telling me how worthless I was. It’s also when you started to hit me. A punch in the arm here. A shove there. Then you started with my stomach. Told me I was stupid and I wasn’t going to have this baby. You forced me to have an abortion, which in hindsight I am glad I did, mainly because I think if I had carried this baby longer, You would have made sure it didn’t survive.
I was no longer allowed to see my friends. I feel into a deep depression and was heart-broken when you broke up with me. What to do with all of this new found freedom? Take a trip with my BFF of course! Well, once you got wind of that, you had to have me back. Could it be the rumor that I was planning on moving with her to Florida, start a new life? Foolishly I agreed to meet you for lunch. I let you make me think you were truly sorry and wanted me back.
Things only got worse. I had a curfew, had to sneak out to be with my friends, could only do what you wanted me to do. The beatings and verbal abuse got much worse the second time around. I remember the time I picked you up from work at one in the morning in the city and you beat me in my own car because I was listening to a mix tape of songs that my favorite cover band played. A stranger came up to the window as you were banging my head into the car window. He said he was calling the cops and told me to get out of the car, that he’d help me. You stopped hitting me long enough for me to drive away, only to start punching me in the legs the whole ride home.
If I loved you enough, you’d stop, I told myself. You told me how much you loved me.
You were only doing this because it’s what your Dad did to your Mom.
I started sneaking out to go out with one of my BFFs. I started having fun again, feeling like myself again. I cheated on you. I found a great guy, at my favorite hangout, who I had known since high school. He worshiped me. He told me how smart, beautiful and fun I was. It gave me my confidence back.
I got the nerve to leave you. I made sure to do it when everyone was home at your Mom’s house.You proposed to me, told me you’d already asked your Mom for her engagement ring your Dad had given her. I took all my stuff out of her house and moved right in with my new boyfriend. I lived 10 minutes from you for 3 years and you never knew.
To this day I live with the scars you left me, physically and emotionally. I have been on and off anti-depressants for 10 years. I have panic attacks when I am reminded of a bad beating. I freak out when my husband tries to kiss me (like if I am leaning up against the counter & he blocks my way out). I feel trapped, yet I know he would NEVER lay a hand on me.
Luckily I found REAL love with my husband. I told him EVERYTHING you did to me and he still loves me. I am damaged goods, but he loves me anyway. You told me if I left you NO ONE would want me. I can count on one hand the number of people who know what you did to me, but I need to get it all out.
I was a silly, young girl who believed I could change you. I now know, that you were the one who changed me. Not because you loved me, because what we had WASN’T love.
You made me stronger, no I made me stronger.
I survived the hell you put me through.
by Band Back Together | Nov 23, 2010 | Anger, Anxiety, Coping With Depression, Emotional Abuse, Infidelity, Loneliness, Major Depressive Disorder, Marriage Problems, Sadness, Self Loathing, Self-Esteem |
I have a fairly melancholy personality, but that doesn’t mean I can’t see the good things. Most days, I do see the good things. I revel in them. But I do have bad days. Maybe more than your average chipper wonder-girl, but not enough to be a ‘bad thing.’ Problem is, there are parameters around my life that make it difficult to have any bad days at all. And so on those days, I feel very, very alone. Today is one of those days. Today, I had to write. I’m not alone if I have words to keep me company. I don’t have to be scared if I can still be coherent. But really, I am alone.
I’m married, but I have no husband. He would rather spend time with his Facebook or his phone. Or his pillow. He doesn’t love me. He says he does, sometimes, but how could I ever believe him? He doesn’t like to kiss me. He only touches me when there’s no chance of anything more. I go for sex and get excuses, or yelled at, or worse, silence. Snores. When I’m upset, he goes to sleep. The self-proclaimed night owl can’t keep his eyes awake at 8:30pm if he thinks there’s something bugging me (or I’m feeling amorous). I have one bad day in months, and it’s further proof to him that we should never have kids, that I would be a terrible mother. As if I’m the one unable to care for someone else. The best birthday present he’s ever received is an email from his ex-girlfriend. At least, that’s what he told her. He doesn’t know I know that. I asked him about his favorite birthday present, and he said it was the concert tickets I just gave him. The ones I couldn’t afford, but I rubbed two pennies together to make happen. Because for some inexplicable reason, I love him, I believe in him, and I have hope for us. And for my next act, I will jump off a bridge.
I’m a sister and a daughter, but I have no family. They don’t understand me, and they put up a facade of attempt. It fails. They fail. Or maybe I’m the failure. Either way, they’ve fenced me out. And then criticize me for it. Do I deserve to be the black sheep? My guess is that if you met all of us, you’d wonder how I ended up the way I am. You’d wonder what they have to vilify me. You might tell me I’m better off being the black sheep, but I don’t feel better off. Not today.
I have friends, too, maybe, but none are nearby. None know me. Not the real me. Most days, I like it that way. There are only so many words I can share on any given day. And how do you maintain a friendship without words? Besides, I don’t even know myself right now, so how could I possibly expect someone else to? It gets a little lonely sometimes. Then again, people are self-absorbed, and they give bad advice. Last thing I need is someone telling me how they’d like to solve their problems, under the guise of my benefit.
I’m say a Christian, but I have no real faith. Belief, sure, but in what? Who is my God? I don’t know. He’s a stranger right now (he, or she, or it, or them…). As a recovering fundamentalist, I don’t understand God at all. I’d like to try better, learn more, figure out what was and what is true, but when it comes to God, there aren’t answers, just more questions. Questions, and narcissism. Funny how God’s attributes line up so nicely with your own opinions.
All in all, I have a great life. Sure, it’s lacking in some areas, but I have no shortage of things to be happy about. Most days, I’m happy. Content and smiling and good. I want more than good, though. I want more than a decent marriage, I want an out-of-the-park one. I want to be married to someone who cares about ‘us’ as much as I do. I don’t have that. I don’t have a spendthrift cheating drunk abuser, but I don’t have a true partner either. I want a family who doesn’t just love me but accepts me. I don’t have that either. I could sure use a friend, too. Someone I didn’t have to pretend with. Someone who could point out my own childish crap without making me feel guilty or condemned. Really, though, I just want some answers. About God. I used to have them, until I saw how lacking my perspective was.
Right now, during this bad day, lack is all I can see. And that is why, today, I hate myself.
by Band Back Together | Nov 23, 2010 | Abuse, Coping With Domestic Abuse, Domestic Abuse, Emotional Abuse, How To Help With Low Self-Esteem, Infidelity, Loneliness, Psychological Manipulation, Self Loathing, Self-Esteem, Shame, Sociopathy, Stress, Trauma |
I’m planning on leaving my husband.
I’m running away.
Last night, after an especially bad fight, I was talking to one of my best friends. I told him what the fight was about (husband got upset at me because I was on my phone while he was asleep) and I told him that it’s my fault, because I’m such a bad wife.
My friend got mad at me. I mean, really angry, and I couldn’t understand why. He told me to search the term BWS. He said that he thinks that I have battered woman syndrome. But you see, it’s rare that my husband actually hits me. Generally he just throws verbal punches.
Since the day we met, something about this man has made me bend over backwards for him. I let go of long time friends (because he didn’t like them), I turned my back on family (because he said that he was my family now), I missed my little brother’s funeral (he thought it would be a bad idea for me to go back home by myself and wouldn’t take me).
He screamed at me and told me I was worthless, and I cried and begged him to give me another chance, because I CAN BE BETTER.
Let me give you some background information on me. Up until I met my husband my friends called me CK, or Cowboy Killer. I had a bad reputation for taking a man and turning him inside out.
Not because I was mean, because I wouldn’t be. But because they all usually told me they loved me within a week or two and then I’d have to let them go. CK rule # 1 is don’t get attached to me. Rule # 2 is I don’t take shit so back the eff off. So when my friends saw the little things that he started off doing to me, they were baffled.
To say the least, I’ve let this man run my life. Deep down there is a little voice in my cold empty heart that says that he is wrong and bad.
But everything else inside of me screams that this is my fault. After he hits me, he says things like “I didn’t hit you that hard, you must bruise easily” or “I didn’t push you that hard, you threw yourself” or “Baby I’m sorry, but you just shouldn’t push me like that”.
A few months ago he put me in the hospital because I said “I hate you” after I found out that he was cheating on me, again.
But the making up… I live for the making up. He is so sweet, and he tells me that I’m beautiful and he loves me and that he’ll change. He asks me to just stick it out, because he knows that he can be better. But a week later it’s back and worse than ever.
When he broke my nose last month another good friend offered to pay for me and my children to move back up north (my homeland) and live with him. He offered me a job in his company and a safe place for my kids and I to live, complete with 2 puppies and a fenced in back yard. I told him at the time that I would think about it.
Last night I did a lot of thinking. And a lot of web searching. Did you know that my husband matches almost every single sign of being a sociopath?
Manipulation? Check. This is the same man that says I force him to treat me this way because of the things I do, like buy myself a coffee with my money.
Lack of remorse? Yeah, we already went over that one.
Poor behavioral controls resulting in acts of rage? Mmhmm.
Promiscuity? LOLZ. This is the same man who has NO IDEA how many women he’s slept with. Since we started dating I know of at least 8.
Parasitic lifestyle? If you’ve read any of my other entries here on BB2G you would know that for the last two years I’ve supported him financially.
Apparently the sociopath’s main goal in life is to create a willing victim. That’s been me for two years. And I think I’m done. I sent an email to my friend, asking if I could still come up. I won’t tell my husband.
But I’m scared. I’m scared of taking my kids up to PA and worrying about whether I can support them. I’m scared that I won’t be strong enough to say no when my husband begs me to come home. I’m scared that all of this is in my head, and maybe I am the crazy one. I’m scared that he’ll find us.
But it’s what I have to do, right?
Because I can’t continue to live this way, right?
*On a side note, thank you all, for being the people that you are. Sometimes I just read over the comments that you leave and I cry and wish that I had people like you actually in my life. Thank you for trying to help me see the bright side, and for telling me that it will get better. A million times over, thank you…
Prankster, there’s no such thing as “abuse light” or “a little abuse.” Your husband is abusive. That’s not a question. The question is, “do you want to take it?”
You know that the answer is no. You don’t deserve it. Nobody deserves to be treated like that. Nobody.
You are loved. We will be here for you no matter what.
Whatever you do, please be safe. PLEASE.
by Band Back Together | Nov 11, 2010 | Gender Nonconformity, Transgender |
I turned the radio on to that station you hated.
You know the one, with the blaring rock music, and the DJ’s you never liked. Not that you found them offensive. You just thought they weren’t funny. You laughed when I told one of their jokes.
I turn the volume up. Just a little. Just because you always hated it.
I don’t drink anymore. You ruined me for it. Not that it is a bad thing, not drinking. But sometimes I think of those girly drinks I used to love, that you would always tease me for… Cosmos, redheaded sluts, you know, the fruity ones. The ones that I would joke would make me no less of a man (even though I was and am pre-op trans). The ones I would chase with a shot of tequila, or whiskey. Or both. Those were some interesting nights we had, huh?
I still sometimes think I see you in crowds. It used to be, if I thought you were there, you probably were. Magic of running with the same crowd, and inevitably doing the same things. Now, I haven’t seen most of those people in over a year. Interesting that the people I called friends weren’t more interested when I fell off of the grid.
Hey, congratulations. You always talked about wanting to do something big and lasting, in that way that people who fancy themselves artists have. You certainly managed it. Thanks to you, I can’t be a mentally healthy human being. Probably ever. You didn’t start the ball rolling, no – we have my family to thank for that one… Though you did pick at that wound, so thanks for that. But you managed some irreparable damage, and left me totally broken. You rock.
So, still hanging around the same crowd? Anyone ever mention me or where I went? Probably not. They were all pretty superficial. Unless they were high… In which case, they tried so hard to be deep. But anyhow, they ever ask you what happened? You ever tell them? Probably said that I made a move on you. Because you were so fuckin’ irresistible. I don’t trust people very easily anymore.
Over a year since our little ‘anniversary’. Do you ever regret it? You planned to prey on the one with the blossoming drinking problem, shame and guilt issues and the body issues who trusted you? Probably. I sound like kind of an easy mark.
I just wanted to let you know that I found people that accept me for all of my awkward, neurotic tendencies. They always call me by my right name. They love me, and would protect me from someone like you. And yeah, in the back of my mind, I am still just a little fearful of them. Because I trusted you that much once.
Funny how something like a radio station can bring back such memories.
