Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Here's what started my misguided musings: A comment from an anonymous reader chastising me for "some of the most irrational behavior I've ever heard of." When I read the comment, it really didn't phase me much. Even though, in the remarks, I was also told "you are more than entitled to your pain, but not to your pound of flesh." Eeewww.
My response was extraordinarily eloquent, "DUH!" I know I was nuts! I post all the time about how much I know that!
But, then the black veil of guilt crept in. I let myself fall back into a place of vicious self- doubt.
Why did I do all those cruel things? No wonder Richard fell for a 24 year old, soft spoken hippie chick. He must have been totally sick of my take no prisoners personality! Then, I threw fuel on that fire by becoming Mrs. Hyde for a year! I was a lunatic! For good reason, sure...but SOOOO over the top!
Even though I am well aware that there is nothing good about going backward in your brain, I found myself beginning to withdraw. Not lashing out, but reeling myself in. More than once Richard asked, "Are you OK?" I assured him I was fine. Not so much.
Now, here's where it gets weird. I bought some new lotion at the Nordstrom Anniversary sale. I think I have mentioned how much I love me some Nordstroms!! This particular body lotion is by a company called Philosophy. (can you see where this is going?) The scent is as light as the fresh smell of soap and water. A subtle blend of bergamot, lavender, water lily and jasmine. (Maybe I should write ad copy!) I recently found this 32oz. bottle under the sink in my bathroom. Because I had spent more than I should on that particular day at Nordies, I forgot I bought the stuff. Oops.
I put the big, pump bottle next to my bed. I use it every night. I read the black lettering on the front of the white bottle as I apply the silky, soft, product called "Pure Grace." The company is big on sharing inspired thoughts through their bath & body line...Hence the name: Philosophy.
There is a full paragraph waxing poetic about how walking outdoors and breathing in nature empowers our spirits. Serenity Now prose like that makes me throw up a little in my mouth. BUT...the bottle also reminds me nightly to reflect on the simple blessings of my life. When we do this, we are better able to manage our troubles. We embrace our highest potential...Our Pure Grace.
Who would've thunk it? I am being placed smack dab in the center of the Road Back to Happy by my body lotion! Instead of drifting to sleep with thoughts of the emails Richard wrote to Jaymie or me telling her Dad about all the reasons Jaymie surely needed to attend church more frequently, I have been making a concerted effort to focus on simple blessings.
How much I love to hear my 18 year old daughter sing. The fact that my 14 year old son seems so eager to begin high school. The energy and strength I gain from my dearest friends and the mere fact that Richard and I fall asleep holding hands nearly every night.
Since I read the comment accusing me of "irrational behavior", I was not drifting off to La La Land with the best of thoughts, which can cause the worst of dreams. Then, I found the simple words on the front of a very plain bottle of moisturizer.
I am going to conquer my mental relapse: After I smooth the floral fragrance on, and lay my head on my pillow, I come up with at least 4 simple blessings every night. I close my eyes and focus on how damn lucky I am and the warm feel of my husband's hand. My dreams have been much sweeter.
That might be the blessing I focus on tonight, sweet dreams and how grateful I am for those of you out there reading. Yep. You are truly one of my many blessings.
***An amusing afterthought: I headed for the shower after I finished this post. Inside said shower stall was the Philosophy facial cleanser I also purchased during my spree at Nordies. Until today, I never read the bottle. I don't wear my glasses in the shower so I couldn't have read it even if the thought had previously occurred to me. After utilizing the facial wash, I brought it out and put on my glasses.
At the top, the bottle says: Purity. In the paragraph following....there was nothing I related to at all.
Saturday, August 25, 2012
Sitting outside, in the dark, at our smoking table, on our second cocktail, Richard dialed Jim's number. He didn't put the conversation on speaker phone. I don't know why I didn't insist, but I think instinctively I knew I was pushing the envelope already. The first part of their chat was all about Richard expressing his remorse. His declarations of guilt made me nauseous. I had heard those words of regret way too many times. It's not that I didn't believe he was sincere. I just didn't care that he was sorry. What good is sorry if I knew I could never forgive him?
He apologized to Jim, but he didn't ask for forgiveness. Perhaps he was starting to believe he didn't deserve any.
Yuckolla! I was so over seeing my husband, the man that I always thought was my pillar of strength, become a limp-ass jelly fish! I had to turn away. I know it would not have gone well if Richard had not been contrite and humble, but Damn! I would've paid good money (not to Jaymie or Jim, but to the Gods of Payback!) to hear my man say something like, "Jim...your daughter used me for financial gain. I used her hot, young bod to get my rocks off. Let's just call it a day and give Shawn her half of the cash back, then you can get on with your miserable little life."
Hey...we all have our fantasies. Don't judge me.
After the prerequisite apologies, the debate began and it became crystal clear that Jim was determined to hear Richard say the cash had never been a loan. Daddy Jim became One Note Johnny, beating the same dead horse relentlessly!
"Jaymie insists the money was never a loan."
My husband, the attorney, was ready for this argument. "It doesn't matter, Jim. Half of the money she received belongs to Shawn."
"I want to hear you admit that you gave Jaymie the money."
"I can't do that Jim."
"Just between us...is Jaymie lying to me? Did you loan her the money?"
"It is a moot point. Half of the money is Shawn's and she wants it repaid. I intend to back Shawn up in this request. Shawn has been hurt badly. She needs this to help her get past the betrayal."
Richard looked at me with pleading eyes! "I can't do this!"
My eyes told him, in no uncertain terms, "Don't you dare let me down!"
I won't bore you with the repetitive dialog of the rest of the phone call. The bottom line is, without a handshake or a signed contract, an agreement was made.
It was an agreement within a stalemate. By the end of the deliberations, I was the only winner. Richard never admitted the money was a gift or payment for services rendered, but he sure confessed to being a deplorable stereotypical middle aged adulterer. Jim never found out if his daughter was lying about the money being a loan to save a small shred of her dignity or if she was merely a naive, school girl that couldn't say no to hundreds of dollars being thrown her way for a quick roll in the hay.
I won. Jaymie was going to repay $500 at $100 a month. The agreement was Jaymie would make the checks out to a charity, chosen by me, send the checks to me at work and I would forward them to the proper address after verification. All very business like.
The kink in the agreement...no future contact with anyone in her family. Cased closed. Cutting me off cold-turkey from Jaymie. I believed she was the only person that could quiet the quandaries that haunted me constantly. She was like my crack pipe!
You all know what happens to people coping with addiction withdrawal, right?
The next few months were not gonna be pretty.
Thursday, August 23, 2012
A little warning here. The rest of this post took on a bitter, sarcastic tone. I ask for your forgiveness in advance.
Richard got a call from Jim. He didn't take it. The message was he wanted to speak to Richard about the money I was demanding. Jim said he would send an email regarding the "issue." ISSUE? Is that what this is? An ISSUE?
Oh, Lord! So much of this really would be funny if it weren't so tragic!
The negotiation for the return of the cash began via email. Here's Jim's email to Richard:
My talking points in a future phone call will be this:
· Shawn is asking for remuneration of $500. She says you loaned Jaymie money, Jaymie says you did give her money at times but it was never a loan.
· Any items that were given to Jaymie were returned to Shawn on Friday. This should end any conversation with her.
Any talk that needs to be done, should go between you and Jaymie. Since Jaymie does not feel comfortable talking with you, she requests that you work through me.
All I need to know is that you agree with these 2 points and the matter is closed.
Rich- I really liked you, and had hopes to build you into my key persons network of referrals. This probably will not happen.
Because my faith is important to me, I was hoping to be help to you in your restoration and rebuilding your personal life, as I have training and experience in these areas. Based on where this is now, I don’t think I can be of a personal help to you anymore.
JimI gotta dissect this a bit.
First: REMUNERATION?? What? Come on! No one is impressed with your big words, Homeboy.
Second: Richard gave her money AT TIMES?? How about every time they fucked and then some!? Deal with it! Your baby girl is as close to a hooker as she can be without her own corner and a pimp!
Third: You think this should END any conversation with me? You would rather talk to the old man that banged your daughter and then left her out to dry than me? Whatever. You're a chickenshit.
And, Last...but most certainly not least: You had hoped to work with Richard and now that PROBABLY won't happen?? What would make you SURE it could never happen? If Richard had slept with Jaymie AND your wife? Would that do it? Seriously, Dude. Must be that solid Christian faith. You are just chalked full of forgiveness. Either that, or you were really hoping Richard could help you reel in a much needed client base. I'd guess it's the latter, but that's just my take.
Richard sent this reply only after he let me proof read it and edit it to my satisfaction.
Thanks for your thoughts. I want to first tell you I apologize for the affair I had with your daughter Jaymie. I am deeply sorry for the hurt I have caused so many and that includes you and Karen.
You say “any talk that needs to be done should go between you and Jaymie.” But that is not the case. I hurt Shawn badly. She was deeply impacted by this. So she is involved as well. Half of what Jaymie received was Shawn’s money. Shawn wants it back and I support her in this request.
So here is what I suggest:
1. Write a check to Shawn or to the charity of your choice and mail it to Shawn. I am suggesting $500 but will take any reasonable amount. If you are tight for Christmas, it can be after the first of the year.
2. This will bring us to complete closure. Neither Shawn nor I will have any further uninvited contact with your family.
I appreciate your offer to help me and I know it is sincere. Jaymie often spoke of your and Karen’s Christian values. Shawn told me that when she called you, the two of you prayed together. This is a gesture that I will never forget. I believe you are a good man. I also believe my proposal is the right thing to do.
I'll give Richard a nod of appreciation here. He followed my lead. He wouldn't say the money was a loan, but he wouldn't deny it either. He asked me, "If I do this for you, will it help you heal?"
"Yes. For sure. I need this."
Problem was, I would need a hell of a lot more before it was over.
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
Why couldn't I see that Jaymie was an addictive deadly poison? For my recovery, she was kryptonite.
Since DDay, I had been through the entire gamut of emotions, same as most betrayed spouses, utter shock, wretched grief, intense bewilderment and tumultuous anger. If you've been following my story you know how I handled myself the first couple of months after DDay. I hope you also know, that I was my own worst enemy.
It puzzles me. I had been meeting with the lovely Dr. K since the day after impact. She never told me to stay away from Jaymie. I had been talking to Dr. N with his magical bag of happy pills for a least three weeks, but he also neglected to let me in on that little nugget of wisdom. Why didn't they tell me that continuing to pull Jaymie into our lives might possibly make me the biggest moronic, betrayed wife on the planet??
Healing after you catch your spouse cheating is like raising children. There is no freaking map. It's one of the hardest things you will do in your entire life and nobody gives you an instruction manual. Well, that's not completely accurate. There are a shit-ton of books out there for raising kids and for recovering after an affair. Although, many of them might as well be written in Greek. My guide through the black hole of infidelity came from my computer screen and it took me over a year to find it.
Please use this post as a caution sign, a flashing red light or one of those TV warnings...PLEASE don't try any of this at home! I should been done with Jaymie after the phone call the first morning. I let the intense anger rule my actions. I couldn't direct that much anger at Richard. As much as I hate to admit it, I was scared he'd leave me for her! I hammered away at her for nearly a year. Such a monumental mistake for anyone that is dealing with betrayal.
I felt compelled to share that even though my story of revenge might make me sound like a bad-ass, it only proves that I was a HUGE dumb-ass. So, if you're out there reading and you think throwing the other woman under the bus would make you feel better, this is your cease and desist letter.
DON'T DO IT! Let her go. Ignore her. Get as far away from her as humanly possible. She can't answers your questions. She doesn't care about helping you at all. Announcing to the world that she's a husband stealing low-life skank will feel good for a minute, but the juice ain't worth the squeeze.
Maybe you can use this blog for sort of a vicarious pay-back rush. I really wanna save you the time and energy, Friends. Let the Bitch Whore go.
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
Dropped Julie and the massage table off, then drove to La Costa. What a mood (or should I say MOODS) I was in! The meeting with Jaymie's dad had me amped into severe Royal Bitch mode. I tied to take deep breaths to calm myself. I was on my way to one of the most beautiful spas in California. Thank God! If I ever needed to de-stress...now was the time!
I trembled with anger, but in the same moment I wanted nothing more than to roll into a fetal position and sob like a baby. How many times since DDay had I been subjected to fresh mental injury, additional heart crushing pain and pure, horrific humiliation? More times that I cared to count. I couldn't admit until months later that I could have avoided some of the trauma. If I had treated Jaymie like the non-entity that she was, I would have found my path on my Road to Happy much sooner.
Oh, well...would've, could've, should've.
Pulled up to the valet. Gave him my small suitcase and asked him to dump the room fragrance reeds, which were already open and stinking up my car, in the garbage. I took the perfume and the bracelet with me. Time to check in at the spa.
Richard pulled up to the valet right behind me, just in time to see the valet pitch the revolting reeds. He told me later he didn't even remember buying those.
If you are a betrayed spouse, be prepared to hear these words relentlessly:
"I don't remember." AND..."I don't know."
The aggravation caused from these responses is immeasurable, but there is a chance your wayward spouse is telling the truth. They could also be stonewalling in a pathetic attempt to save their own asses, but MAYBE the guy was into the FOG so deep, much of the affair was dream like, therefore, difficult to recall.
How hard it was to allow for that possibility. The frustration from the lack of details nearly ate away my sanity.
I didn't speak to Richard. I barely looked at him. He knew he was in for the absolute most miserable experience one could have at a fabulous resort. This visit to La Costa would not feel like the paradise of R&R I had come to expect. It felt more like a visit to Hell. Something to be avoided at all costs. If I try to describe the whole La Costa experience to you, it will be redundant. Suffice it to say, I was blatantly vicious to him for the next 24 hours. I will share what happened to the swag.
The couples massage must have been so uncomfortable for the therapists!! The tension in that room was as thick as Affair Fog! If they could have read my aura, the color would have been basic black, with fire engine red around the border. The lovely masseuse, that worked on me, commented more times than she should, about how tight my neck was. Other than that, few words were spoken for 80 minutes.
I got out of the dressing room before Richard. I went to the front desk to take care of the bill. Instead of adding a 20% tip to the total, I reached into my purse and pulled out the velvet box containing the diamond and emerald bracelet. I handed it to the young lady behind the counter and said, "Please give this to my therapist. Tell her thank you and Merry Christmas."
I went outside for a cigarette. Nothing like smoking at a spa!! People LOVE that! I doubt anyone would have been brave enough to ask me to stop. I'm sure I looked crazed with my face tightened into a foul grimace. I could have cared less what anybody thought about anything that day. It was one of my worst days since DDay. I felt so sorry for myself and that is NOT the way I roll.
We tried to talk. We tried to reason. We talked about the high school picture he gave Jaymie. Richard could see how disgusted I was with all of it. He explained about the picture. He said it proved how desperate he was for his lost youth and why that was such a huge part of why he cheated.
But, truly, none of the limited conversation was productive. I was just too angry, too hurt. I do remember saying, numerous times, "I can't do this." By the time we walked to our room for the night, Richard looked like he wanted to slash his own throat. In my mind's eye, I imagined doing it for him. This little date night couldn't end quickly enough.
We rose early because we barely slept. In silence, we packed to leave way before check out time. Along with a ten dollar bill, I left a little something extra on the pillow for the housekeeper. The barely used bottle of Dolce perfume with a note:
"I didn't forget this. I left it. Please feel free to enjoy it or toss it at your discretion."
Back out to the valet and into our cars. I left for home first, Richard followed me. I remember wishing he wouldn't.