Chef and Bird Try to Communicate

 

Yes. Like that.

Yes. Like that.

In deference to my earlier post, and to emphasize how unstable our relationship has truly become, I’m posting this little tidbit of conversation. Let’s call it a little fly-on-the-wall peek at how things usually go when Chef and I have to be around each other longer than an hour or if the stars aren’t aligned just so.

Hungry, we’re deciding what we’ll have for dinner:

Chef: Church’s Fried Chicken is having a special on their 15 piece chicken meal. We ought to get some tonight.

Bird: Sounds okay to me. Wait. How do you know they’re having a special? You don’t have cable, you don’t get the newspaper…. Wait a minute!! Isn’t Church’s her favorite place to eat? You’ve been calling her, haven’t you. Or she’s been calling you, right? Don’t think you can be all technical with the truth with me, Chef! I’m listening to you very carefully. Why are feeling all nostalgic for your girlfriend all of a sudden, you p****? I knew it! I knew you’d be cheating on me again first chance you got. You lying … (Yeah, let’s stop there. You get the jist..)

Chef: No! I get a couple of channels on the tv. I saw it on tv! She hasn’t been here at all. I swear!! We haven’t talked!! Church’s isn’t her favorite place to eat! She likes The Olive Gar…

Bird: (very, very softly and coldly) You remember where her favorite place to eat is, but you can’t remember my freakin’ birthday?? (Incidentally,  he did only once in all of our 22 years together actually forget my birthday, and of which I’ve never brought up in a fight until now. It was the nuclear warhead I’d been saving for just such an occasion as this little nugget of insanity!!)

Chef (slow to think, quick to speak):…den. ……..S***.

Bird: (Sitting silently trying to make his head explode with  just my mind and then very graphically cursing when my mind proved nonlethal and somewhat confused by me itself.)

Chef: You know what I mean, Bird. Why are getting all bent out of shape. She’s gone. She’s out of my life now, so I’m all yours now.

Bird: Gee, where do I send her the thank-you card? I love being a back-up plan. And I’m sick of how you talk about her all the time! Why does EVERY conversation always end up about her? I’ve had it. I’m going home, #$%@#$%!!!

Chef (trying to just keep up with me): …I just wanted some chicken…but.. just..save so money…no, please…I….Bird!

 

Note: I know I sound like a complete moron.

Another Note: In some circumstances, I am a complete fruit-loop. This was one of them.

Last Note:  I hate Church’s Chicken.

 

:-) Good Night!

– Bird

Failures Make The Best Stories Later

good friendsI was talking to my friend Scott the other day, and I mentioned how I had read every single advice column known to mankind about infidelity, divorce, separation, etc., and pretty much broke every cardinal rule there was in my quest to recover from the damage my ex did to me. I can laugh about it now, but I can see where most of this sage counseling would have made things a little easier on me. Problem is, I’m rarely in control of any of my emotions when I’m hurt. I figured I’d share my mishaps with my friends here so all the women out there who know what they should do, but still do the very worst things anyways will have some company.

There’s tons of sites, but I’m not going to quote from just one. Instead, I’ll pick out the ones that really, really were glaringly  correct, and I equally glaringly blew them off anyways. :-)

INFIDELITY ADVICE FROM THE EXPERTS

1. Practice indifference. Cheaters are usually flaming narcissists. The cruelest thing you can do to a cheater is pay no attention to them.psycho

And this is what Bird did: I completely agree that this would have been my best course of action. Instead, I wrote him emails, letters, blog posts, text messages, and slapped him with a PO order. I waited by the phone for him to call. I dropped everything and came running any time he crooked his finger. All said, the guy has a library of correspondence from me that he admits he never read.

2. Let them live with the natural consequences of their crappiness. Cheaters are really good at not taking responsibility. They pin the blame on you.

And this is what Bird did: Because I felt fate and consequence would take entirely too long, I moved the timelines I could control up a notch. I tanked a million dollar lawsuit we’d been a hair’s breath away from winning, because of one snide comment from Chef about pretending he loved me to get the money. One comment. One. :-) I turned off every utility that was in my name, and scheduled them to be off on the same day. I sent texts messages to his new girlfriend about embarrassing secrets he had. I called them both every mean name in the book. There’s more, but I think you get the jist. I was pissed.

3.  Succeed. Go be awesome. You’ll enjoy that in its own right, but I promise you, it will get back to the cheater.

And this is what Bird did: I didn’t totally fail on this one, but it’s all relative if you think about it. Chef lost pretty much everything because of an addiction, so he didn’t set the bar to succeed all that high. Yes, my rent is paid, but I also live in the ghetto. He is unemployed, and I have a job, but it’s the same job I had before. I think where I really succeeded is that I learned to laugh again quicker, and he is still struggling to just get up each day.

4. Expand your world, make new friends and try new things.

And this is what Bird did: Especially at the beginning of the separation, I withdrew from anyone and anything. I hated that I seemed to not be able to think about infidelty fail 911anything or anyone but myself and how much this all had hurt me. I drank like a fish, mixing ambien with it at times, wrote mean posts, sobered up, pulled them down again, and cried, cried, cried. I could hear my anger in every word I said, and it made me feel even worse. Finally, after Bekkie put her foot down about booze, I began to address the emotions, live through them, and as they were tackled, I got the sense that things just might calm down. Still, it took a really long time for me bother with new friends or new hobbies. My world was really, really lonely.

5. Keep being the individual you were before you got in the relationship. When you give up aspects of yourself, you stop being the person your partner fell in love with.

And this is what Bird did: When you get married in your early twenties, and stay that way until your mid-forties, my guess is this advice isn’t all that good. In true form, I reverted back to a dork teen-ager that had been dumped by her first boyfriend. :-) Shall we call that a point for me? I’m still learning who I am, and that has been one of the few things about this whole crappy chapter of my life that I’m really enjoying. I’m a work in progress, but at least I’m progressing.

6. Don’t talk about relationship problems with other potential love interests. Common sense, right?

And this is what Bird did: And still does — talks to The Guy about Chef a lot. But I’m actively trying not to bring things up all the time. Or at least wait for him to ask before bringing it up. What can I say? I’m traumatized.

7. Don’t use contact with other people to make your partner jealous. This is a form of manipulation. Even if gets your partner’s attention, he or she will resent you for it and think less of you.house for sale

And this is what Bird did: Rubbed his nose in all of themMaybe he thinks less of me for it, but I don’t really care. 

8. Don’t cast insults at your ex or his affair partner. You are the victim, and as such, you maintain more dignity than either of them will ever have if you remain composed.

And this is what Bird did: I did not remain composed in any shape, form, or fashion; nor can I say I was in the least bit dignified. Once, I physically hit both of them in their/my living-room. I perceived smugness from them both, and reacted accordingly… I muddied the waters with my reactions, and when it was all said and done, I regretted almost everything I said and did all along the way.

These are just a tiny scattering of the many, many wisdoms I couldn’t seem to follow. So, to my fellow sisters on their own journeys through hell, my only advice would be

Me & T - Ninja Warriors battling for the love of a man who cheated on us both. We're both winnners..even if you can't really tell. :-)

Me & T – Ninja Warriors battling for the love of a man who cheated on us both. We’re both winners..even if you can’t really tell. :-)

to not be all that hard on yourself even if you fail. If all of this didn’t hurt so badly, we could have all followed these truths with no problem. But when something strikes us to the very core of everything we’d built our worlds around, a bit of psychotic, extreme behavior is to be expected….and later, those are the episodes that make the best stories. :-)

– Bird

 

The Keeper of My Demons

As I’ve been saying over the last few weeks, I’ve settled into a pleasant routine here in my ghetto apartment. For the most part, I wallsexist completely separate from Chef and I am growing to really appreciate that. However, I’m noticing a different routine that is forming, and I’m absolutely going to root this one out of my life. It is a new routine Chef and I have developed, and I had to really decide last night to be the one to stop it.

Chef and I can’t make it through one conversation without fighting anymore. All communication has finally broken down, and yet, I find myself trying to communicate with him about how all of his choices and decisions have hurt me anyways! And he, in turn, throws up every wall he can erect to make sure we don’t focus on his shortcomings, instead constantly diverting the subjects back to how I have reacted to the various insults I feel he and his girlfriend have launched at me.

He thinks I over-reacted to all of it. You have got to love the male mind. :-)

And, I, of course, think he’s awfully easy on himself given the different rings of hell he’s introduced to my life. I know. Typically Female.

There is no way for us to meet in the middle here, and the bickering and fighting is worthless. I want to stop it.

Now, in all fairness, I’m beating a dead dog here every time I launch into that tired line of reasoning with him ad nauseam.

Why every single stupid conversation has to come back to all the cheating, lying, sneaking around, and the mind-twisting move of installing his affair-partner into our home, in my bed, and letting her wear my clothes, is beyond me. I don’t even really want to talk about it anymore. And yet, without fail, he’ll make a snide comment about how I cost us millions of dollars by tanking a lawsuit we were in, (and yes, I did do that), and I’ll  just have to defend myself by throwing back in his face what he did that made me do that.

And then it’s on.

Another boring, merry-go-round argument, that we’ll just end up digressing to the point that we’re launching rather witty and clever, but also very mean, and somewhat childish names at one another….Again. Then, we’ll withdraw into our perspective corners of Tulsa,  and there will be no communication…for anywhere between one day to two weeks, depending on just how below the belt we attacked each other in our last round. It’s pathetic, and I’m sick of repeating this useless exercise.

The silence is peaceful, and just as I’m relaxing into not wondering what he is doing, or how he is faring, I’ll get a text message from him. Some of them have been super sweet; some nostalgic for the days we were happy; some lyrics to my favorite songs; some downright sad; and all of them have the power to soothe me enough that I immediately break my promise to myself to ignore him forever, and respond. I wish I could say I was able to withstand the lure for even an hour. Nope. I’m woefully sappy when it comes to those texts. It’s just disheartening how quickly I text him back, that tiny bit of hope sparking back to life in the back of my brain.

Then, it quickly falls to crap, and I’m sitting there remembering how I could have IGNORED that text, and this latest disrespectful event wouldn’t have happened. Hind-sight is 20/20…dammit, Bird!!

I’ve noticed lately that we don’t communicate with one another well at all. And I’m pondering the question — What do we really have to talk about anymore? Our lives aren’t continuing down the same paths. We aren’t working on a relationship. We don’t have little children that keep us connected. The children that we did raise are adults, and can be contacted directly without me. We have no reason to stay in touch. I miss the way we used to be able to finish each other’s sentences, but that connection is severed, and it is just a form of torture to have to go through these emotional sparing with each other just to come out on the other side with the knowledge that it is simply over. How many times do we need to repeat this stupid exercise? Oh, please.

What would happen if he actually was sorry? Would I welcome him back in my broken heart? Can a dozen love letters untangle this mess he left me in? Would I go back to being the girl I was before if he publicly denounced the twit he lives with now and proclaimed his love for me from the rooftops? No. You can’t un-ring the bell.  The rose-colored glasses are off, and I can see both of us much clearer. I’d never be able to pretend I didn’t know the depths of his ability to hurt those he swore to love, protect, and care for. I know what I’m capable of, too, when hurt beyond what I ever thought I’d be able to endure. I’m learning to trust myself all over again…But he’s been introduced to a part of me that he never knew was there either. The relationship has changed from the knowledge of who we are capable of being, and there’s no going back.

There was a time I could have forgiven all of this and set about patching our relationship back up, but that time has come and gone long ago. There’s too much damage done, and daily we stab at each other some more, for no constructive reasons at all. Do I really care if he ever misses me? Maybe. I’m human. But I can live without him being sorry. I can live without him taking responsibility. I can live without him…period. I prove that daily.

Should I continue to let him come and go as he pleases, I’m worried that even the good memories of him will be tainted by this new, sad, angry, sneering version I purposely walked away from…repeatedly.  I say Chef left me behind, but I’m the one who left the marriage because of his infidelity, lying, and general coldness. Sometimes, it is good to remember that I was the one who had the courage to walk away into the unknown future.

It’s sad to leave an old friend behind, but you just have to when they cease to be your friend, and are, instead, the keeper of all your demons.

So, today, I’m deciding YET AGAIN to let Chef fade out of my life for good. Hopefully, I’ll be able to withstand the draw of Hope! :-)

– Have a Lovely Friday!!!

Bird

One Tired, Broken Brain Who Just Wants To Get Over All of This–Quickly.

English: Managing emotions - Identifying feelings

English: Managing emotions – Identifying feelings (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

In all honesty, I’m doing better emotionally about all of this separation stuff lately, but I occasionally run into bumpy times, and tonight is one of those. Earlier in the day, someone asked me about what was going on with Chef, and it served as a launching pad for some of the thoughts I’ve been keeping at bay to resurface. I imagine I’ve mentioned before that I don’t deal with dramatic emotions very well. My stomach turns to knots, and I flounder about in my head trying to find something to take my mind off of painful or intense emotions and back into the controllable bay of my thoughts. The hyper-vigilance kicks in, and I start working on the problem without realizing that I’m falling back into the bad habit of trying to fix this marriage…again! And yet, I don’t want that guy back, so I confuse myself. What fresh hell is this, Oh Broken Brain???!!!

This evening, I just seemed to be unsuccessful at switching channels in my brain. Even prayer didn’t ease it, and I get the feeling I need to address some of this; I can’t hide from it forever, and for me to heal, the wounds need to be scrubbed out…which is always painful no matter what.

Because I found myself alone in the hotel room tonight, I tried to examine why I was so easily launched back into some pain by a casual question about Chef— not the horrible pain like in the beginning– but still enough to really make my stomach hurt. I’ve been doing so well, why is this one vague mention of him causing me to stress out about all of this all over again?

Being me, I decided…if this broken brain has to work on the problem, I’d like to set the goal on something that I actually want, not something the broken part of me seems to need. The goal is …I have no earthly  idea. I know it can’t be a reconciliation. I don’t really even like the man he has become. There is nothing there left to admire. But deep down, I keep wondering if the Old Chef will resurface one day, and I will have given up too soon, and have lost the chance to have him back again. At the same time, though, I am afraid of him, so I don’t want him around me. Does anyone else go through this kind of insanity in their minds? It is giving me a headache.

I’m no fool. I know that it can never work out, and after the last conversation with him, which was just plain evil, I’m even more determined to change that behavior in myself that seems to attract these kinds of men.

I don’t so much miss Chef anymore; instead, I think I grieve for the comfortable stability of the life I had created with him as opposed to a future that I have no idea what is going to look like. Yes. I’m optimistic that everything will work out fine. How could I not? At the end of my life, I will be stepping into something infinitely better, and all this will be just another thing. But, it seems always so uncertain, and I’ve never felt this way before. When I was younger, I would just Forest Gump my way through, always believing that whatever I was doing could be fixed later if it was wrong, but I don’t think that way anymore, and it makes me feel a bit handicapped.

I know I’m grieving for the old Chef and my old life, even as dysfunctional as they might have been. He was responsible, dedicated to giving us a good home, made me laugh, and most of all, I believed him when he said he loved me, and we would grow old together, watching our grandchildren play.

I miss trusting someone, and I can feel those old walls going back up that make me isolate myself from people, especially men. I miss the trust. I can barely look any man in the eye anymore, and that makes me feel even worse. I actually went on a blind date with a guy, and I couldn’t even tell you what color eyes he had. I fled quickly, making an excuse. I can’t jump back in like that…it’s too soon, and any future man would have to overcome obstacles that these scars are causing me. Frankly, I don’t think a lot of men are going to up for the task. :-(

I keep reminding myself that I’ve been with this same man my whole entire adult life, and it is going to take longer than a couple of months to get over it completely, but I still have this tiny fear in me that I will never love anyone ever again like I loved Chef. And frankly, that blows. I loved being a wife, friend, mother, and confidant. But, even if I could “lure” him back, I would feel even worse if successful than this because everything would be a big question. The trust is annihilated. If he was a few minutes late from work, I’d be freaked that he was either scoring drugs or cheating on me. I would wonder what he was up to while I was at work. He has never been able to forgive and forget, so this last painful year would be a subject we’d have to relive over and over every time I freaked out about something that reminded me of it, or when he just happened to be displeased with me. There’s just been too much hurt on both sides to even think this can be redeemed.

And then I went down this fun road. What if  it is just my ego that wants him to want me back just so I can have the fleshly satisfaction of dumping him on his butt the way he did me? I’m hoping that isn’t it. I’m always running this Public Relations campaign in my head and heart for him. Or what if I just want T to have a tiny taste of what pain she has caused me? I fight against those kinds of  motives and thoughts all the time, but only God truly knows what our real motivations are. We are all good at rationalizing our behaviors, and burying our real intent down deep.

I don’t really know what the point of this whole post is. I guess I just wanted to sort out some of my thoughts. Sitting around, being haunted by the memories of all his sweet promises and all the times I cracked up at something he said or did; then, wondering if he’s making the same promises to T, and making her laugh the way he once made me laugh,  is destructive and I figured trying to write what I’m feeling would take some of the sting out of it. And, I must admit, it kind of does. I feel a little more peaceful at the moment.

Also, I would like the Lord to note: I haven’t actually prayed for patience…lol. I know how that works!!

Good Night!

Bird

The Big Day – My Court Hearing

 

Yesterday was just one exhausting day, and it all started with DJ oversleeping, and being late for work. Or so we thought. After the mad scramble, phone calls, and the hustle out the door, I called Chef to tell him I was also running late. The clock said 8am, and I had to be in court by 9am. When he answered the phone, it was obvious that I woke him up, too. After some garbled conversation that I didn’t understand, he pressed upon me the point that it was actually 5am in the morning…lol. Dj, when he was hitting the snooze button, had accidentally changed the time on the clock….LOL!!!!

I sent DJ a text and let him know that he was actually extremely early, and he came back. Poor baby. He was just positive he was going to be fired on his 5th day of work at his new job.

I prayed, read a little from my bible, and then got ready for court. I hate public speaking, and I really hate knowing that I have this power in my hands to make someone else’s life miserable. I hate it. I wrote a few days ago that I’m always suspicious of my motives, so I had the kids and friends pray for God‘s will for Chef. And while I won’t go into the details, suffice it to say, He answered them.

The judge was concerned that I didn’t take what Chef had done as serious as perhaps I should have. I still have problems believing Chef is a danger to me. And that was his only skirt near criticizing me, which didn’t offend  me at all because he is probably right. But I don’t fear death, ever. I look forward to seeing my God, my home, my lost loved ones. I also believe that satan has to have permission from God before my life can be snuffed out, and all the PO’s and self-preservation in the world isn’t going to change the date of my death.

The judge was extremely harsh with Chef, not allowing him to really explain much about his side of the story. Chef is a fantastic public speaker…hands down, the very best I’ve ever seen, and yet the judge wasn’t moved at all by his words. The only thing that really saved Chef from being charged with assault and possibly other more serious charges is that he brought in his paperwork where he had signed up for rehab through the VA. Yay!! Now let’s all pray that he actually goes through with it.

We spent a little time together afterwards — the conditions of his PO do not keep us from contacting each other anymore — and I listened to every single thing that came out of his mouth. Mostly, he was trying to explain how bad his life had become, but I couldn’t really say much about that. I didn’t choose any of this, so I just let him rant, rave, and blame. But at the end of most of these, he would apologize and explain he doesn’t understand why he constantly feels so angry. But whenever I would even mention God, he would go off on a tangent about how all Christians were minions of satan and we all should be shot in the head. Oh, puhhhleeeze! It is hard to stay silent when a person who is cursing God, his wife, his girlfriend, and his children with every other breath, and yet you know full well that there is a minion of satan involved in the conversation, but it wasn’t me.

It is hard to see Chef struggle so hard against God, trying desperately to manipulate anyone and everyone around him to help him clean up his life. And believe you me, if I had the money, I’d be inclined to help him. I have loved him for a long time. But I also know that while I can share some of the meager foods we have with him, or give him $6 for gas money, I am in no position to fix his life. Nor is T, or the kids, and sadly, he has lost all of his good friends and even his mother, who loves him, won’t help him out financially. That is hard to accept when you’ve spent literally decades protecting him from his consequences. I did him no favors. As it has been for our whole marriage, he depends on me to help him instead of God. That is one lesson I’ve learned from all of this very, very well. Stay out of people’s relationships with their God. Period.

The happy thing for me was that I was able to stay calm through those ridiculous diatribes, always reminding myself to a) do not return evil for evil or insult for insult, but give a blessing instead, and b) don’t argue with a fool. Sadly, Chef seems unable to see how his pity party makes him look. I reminded him of all the strong, confident things he’s done over the years, and there was no reason he couldn’t pull himself together again now, but he just wanted a quick fix. There are literally no quick fixes for this kind of damage. Money won’t fix his burned brain, friendships won’t last because he is completely focused on his wants and needs, giving nothing of himself to anyone else. It all makes me feel sympathy for him, but as I drove away from him, I felt that peace again knowing that God had saved me from an even worse nightmare. No way would living with this man be any kind of life with the way he is now.

But I will continue to pray for him, and I will continue to forgive him and T. I will hope that God manifests Himself in Chef’s life in a very powerful and real way. That is all I can do for him anymore.

Thanks to all of you who were praying for us in court. God bless!!!

 

– Bird