Making Your Day Better....Yea, Right!!

Someone sent  me an email this morning.  Subject: Making Your Day Better.
It was full of Hallmark card worthy snippets, accompanied by an applicable, placid photo intended to motivate the reader to search their hearts for Serenity Now and to turn any sad-sack Eeyore into a positive Pooh Bear during a read that could be completed on the crapper in a snapper!

Nothing like Instant Inspiration before breakfast to bring out the sarcasm in me.

Why I didn't hit delete as soon as I spotted the sappy subject line escapes me at the moment.  I guess I was still a little drowsy so I scrolled down the page, as I pursed my lips and squinshed up my face in  a flagrant indignant expression sure to make any Mom warn, "Keep it up and your face is gonna stick that way!"  I was way into judgmental mode.

I know you have heard me preach like Polly Anna.  I know I lecture on attitude and owning your happiness.  I rarely miss a chance to encourage a betrayed spouse, stuck in a DDay quagmire, to focus on what is good in their lives.  Hell...I just wrote about that in my last post, Lost & Found.
So why am I being such a Negative Nelly about potentially beneficial, uplifting messages?

Because one of them struck a sour chord in me.  I might have to take a hard look at myself today and for the next few weeks.  This is the flowery blurb that made me think...and I hate that!

Well, Crap!  These 8 simple words seemed to be screaming, "Shawn!  I know your brain still goes there every damn day!  What's up with that, Sister?"

Let the meeting begin...HI,  I'm Shawn and I'm a betrayed spouse. I'm over 4 years post DDay and I'm more than positive that I made the right choice to stay and repair my marriage.  Reconciliation was the path for me.  No doubt.  BUT...me thinks I missed a section of the healing highway.  I ignored the overpass called "forgiveness".   If forgiveness was to be found on the high road...that would explain a lot.

Sure, I rationalized that sorry is just a word and forgiveness isn't tangible.  Actions are the only way to know beyond a reasonable doubt if your wayward partner is truly penitent.  Time is my friend and as it passes, my heart will be repaired.
Readers ask me all the time.....How much fucking time are we talking about???
How I wish I knew!

Why can't I say I forgive Richard?  Why have I fought the absolution option for so long?  The quote above tells me my unmerciful heart is the reason my cynical brain replays fragments of Richard's time with She Who Shall Not be Named over 4 freaking years ago!
Does the heart really wield that much power over the brain?  I always thought it was the other way around.  I lived (past tense??) by the credo that mind over matter and genuine confidence can save the soul.  I didn't need no stinkin' forgiveness!

Today I'm admitting I still think about IT at least for a few minutes everyday.  Something pops into my head about IT with no warning and seemingly no trigger to provoke the memory much more frequently than I am willing to accept.  Maybe it isn't about WILL.  Maybe it's about absolution.
I'm asking you AND myself....Does the answer to releasing my mind from occasional Brain Worm bondage require me to open my heart?  Please ponder this question with me.
To lighten my heart, do I have to forgive?

Lost & Found

There is a word, other than Crazy, that most accurately describes my personal psyche for a Year After the Affair....LOST.
Infidelity = LOSS on a massive scale.

When we are unwillingly dumped into the ranks of the betrayed, we lose a lifetime of learning to trust in a micro-minute.  We lose the basic feeling of comfort in our home and hearth.  We lose faith in the person we should be able to have complete faith in at all times.  We lose the ability to imagine any happiness in our future.  We lose our normal life and all the security that came with it.

We also may lose ourselves.  The most important thing I lost was me.  My husband's selfish choices robbed me of my self-esteem and the inner strength I had grown to depend on when times got tough.

I told you I didn't feel like I had much to contribute to a continued discussion on recovery after an affair.  I told you a story.  You don't have to be an author to tell a story.  It's all there for you.  Just start typing and the facts of the events fill in the blank page.  I'm not a writer.  I'm no one's idea of a reliable therapist.  I'm not even a strong example of affair recovery.  If I'm going to continue to write and any of you find my musings worthy of perusing,  I think a decent place to start is to address LOSS because so many of you write to me about it.

Maybe we can share our feelings of LOSS and then offer ideas to how we became FOUND.

Let me start:  If I knew then what I know now, even though I loss all trust in my husband, I would have worked much harder to maintain trust in myself.  Today, I often preach that we can't control the actions of others.  We can only control how we react to them.

If you read any of my story you know I LOST all control over my reactions to anything related to Richard, She who Shall not be Named and the affair.  I understand why that happened, but I believe that it won't happen again.  (please note: I didn't say will never happen again.  Never doesn't live here anymore.)  The big difference is I refuse to allow the behavior of anyone else to dictate my life.  I make decisions for myself and for the benefit of those I love.  I can do that without touring Crazy Town because I have FOUND my inner strength again.  I might be tougher than ever.
I know trust is very hard to come by for many of you right now, but please try to trust me on this....you can learn to trust yourself again.  As your pain recedes, you will find your inner Princess of Power.  Trust her.  She has your best interest at heart.

Please comment.  Share what you LOST after DDay,
but then try to focus on what you FOUND.

4 Years After the Affair

Today isn't 4 Years after the affair.  The title implies that but it's not exactly accurate.  I mean, Richard and she who shall not be named started their affair weeks before I pulled my head out of my Polly Anna ass, saw the vigorously waving red flags and confronted my wayward husband.
 
Today is PRECISELY 4 YEARS SINCE DDAY.  October 12th, 2010, my world disintegrated.  My husband told me he had "deep feelings" for another woman....girl...whatever.  He might have said "strong feelings."  Again...whatever.
The point is I can't remember! Or...maybe I choose not to remember.  If I didn't decide to write down my emotional/mental state on the blog today, anti-versary #4 would have passed me by like any other Sunday, except for this subtly surprising feeling of contentment and optimism.

On my first anti-versary, I could have told you EXACTLY how DDay went down in our kitchen and on our patio and on the phone after I made him leave.  I rehashed every tear, each moment of despair and every single detail of the time he spent with her.  I wallowed in the agony, reread each email they shared and shut down like a coffin lid closing on my marriage.

By my 2nd anti-versary, I was still pretty clear about each syllable we uttered to each other that first fateful day.  I was very tender and Richard could feel it.  Out of pure necessity, his senses had become acutely in sync with my emotional state.
We had tried to anticipate how the day might unfold, tried to be prepared for Royal Bitch or Debbie Downer while hoping intensely I could just summon Shawn to show up for duty.  Richard continued to do what he had done since the original DDAY...he followed my lead and we managed to survive the dismal day unscathed and without turmoil but there was little joy in our hearts.

I can't tell you exactly what happened on our 3rd anti-versary.  I could scroll back through the blog and see if I wrote about it.  I'm guessing it didn't suck that hard because nothing stands out.  I'm gonna call that a win for my forward momentum on the Road to Happy and let it go at that.

NOW...about today...anti-versary Numero Quatro!!  A couple of hours ago I realized that I have had a Cheshire Cat kind of smirk on my face all day.  (maybe because I had a lovely round of morning sex)
While shoving a ton of denim in the washer.... (My family creates an exorbitant amount of laundry in 3 shorts days!  It's freaky.)  Grinning.
As I was picking out Gala apples at Stater Brother's grocery store.... (fall is the best time of the year for a juicy apple.) Grinning.
Typing these words right now..... (hopefully to entertain or inspire)
That's right...Totally Grinning.  

I want to shout it from the roof:  I recovered from marital mayhem!
Today is like no other, to be sure, but not because I am dwelling on the worst day of my life.  Quite the contrary!  I am patting myself on the back for never giving up.  So many times I could've.  I'm certain many people out there reading think I should've.  But 4 years after the affair I know, with true perfect clarity that only comes with a great deal of passing time, I made the right choice for me.

I wasn't going to acknowledge today, but I have shared a whole hell of a lot of bad.  It seems like some counter balance is needed.  If you're reading, I want you to feel a little more hopeful today.  Reconciliation might be the hardest thing you'll ever do, but I'm here to assure you...it ain't impossible.  If I can do it...you can, too.
Richard and I survived Crazy Town and lived to tell you the tale 4 years after the affair.
How awesome it feels to be celebrating my successes today rather than wallowing in past failures.

Anti-versary #4 can kiss my ever-so-gratified and satisfied ass!!  LOL!

One more thing...most of you that emailed me after my last post wanted me to write about what Richard did to help me on the Road to Happy.  You want to know what worked for me.
I'll try to do that real soon, but for now maybe you could just try what's working for me today...Focus on what is good in your life.  Relish it.  Embrace it.
Leave the ugliness in a mental lock box for a while.  Hide the freaking key!
Make a conscience effort to choose to be happy and eventually you might find yourself happy through no effort at all.

Where to go from Here?

I've been taking a little time to consider where this blog should go from here.  When I started writing on December 1st, 2011, I had less than no idea of where this path on my Road to Happy might take me.  Back then, I didn't even know about the elusive Road to Happy.   I couldn't see anything joyful.  I was much too wrapped up in my misery.
At that low point, the Road to Happy was an unknown entity.  Since DDay in October of 2010,  I had established residence in Crazy Town.  To find a Road to Happy that led out of that dismal, convoluted habitat I required the combined skills of Vasco de Gama and Sigmund Freud....OR other betrayed spouses that had traveled the Road before me.  They were my Map.   This blog was the path that led me to that map.

That first day, when I turned to the screen of my iMac longing for an electronic epiphany, I don't remember what I was looking for.  I know I started the blog before I began to surf the web searching for other possible remedies for my plight.  I spent hours that first day online.
Where in the hell did I get the idea to write a blog?  Beats me.  I had never read a blog, any blog, not even one about cooking or child rearing or the latest fashion trends.  Before that day, I had never visited a single web site that offered advice about Surviving Infidelity. (which was the first online forum I found.  It was so big it over-whelmed me.  One size does not fit all.  Soon I found the Healing Heart. It was a much better fit.  I felt so safe there.)
Googling 'how to heal after you discover your spouse is a cheating bastard' just never occurred to me.  Guess I'm kind of old school, but more than that....I think I wasn't ready to start walking my Road until I was ready to let "She who will no longer be named" go.
(That's right.  No more "J" name around here.  I might refer to her in a derogatory way from time to time, but I will not be typing her name on the pages of this blog again)

When you're ready to find your Road and take strong strides forward, you'll know.   It's a surge in your attitude, good or bad.  It could be a renewed sense of determination....or in my case, elevated desperation.  That's when you'll reach out for help.  It might be in the form of finding a new therapist.  Maybe a lengthy trip to the local Barnes and Noble self help section.  For me, it was extended time in cyber space and an urgency to empty the venom out of my soul.

Now that my story of "A Year After the Affair" is done, we have an opportunity to morph this blog into whatever we desire.  Here's the way I see it...
I'll do my best to post when I have a fresh thought I deem beneficial to other betrayed spouses in need of a little GPS. (Girl Powered Support!)
BUT....this blog would be better, greater, helpfuler, (that should be a real word!) if All of You shared your experiences here as well.  We should work together to transform this blog from it's beastly beginnings to a safe sanctuary for others that have yet to find their map, or even the desire to start looking for their Road to Happy.
Please send any topics, questions or experiences you want to share to my email:  Shawnthewife@aol.com
All views and members of the adultery triangle welcome with one stipulation only...
No haters allowed!
That's it.  Simple enough.

Thank you for being my Map, my guides and my motivation.
This blog was the first path on my Road to Happy.  I really hope it can be a least a stepping stone on the Road for other betrayed spouses, too.
Hope & Hugs, my Friends.

The End of Jaymie...For Real!

~~~Thanks so much for your patience as I worked to finish the story of my day in court.  This last post got a little protracted and took way too much time to write, but I promised I would finish this weekend and I did!  Go me!!~~~

After 'D' propitiously placed Nikki and I as far away from Jaymie and the Back Up Boys as possible in the rather cramped quarters of the court room, he retreated.  To where, I had no idea.  I couldn't very well turn around to see where he had ventured off to because to do so, meant showing a full face frontal to Jaymie and the Back Up Boys.  (do I stay with the new combined male moniker or apply the old handles of Daddy James and Geek Boy Kevin?  Back Up Boys seems to be so much more concise and expedient.  Wish I had thought of it sooner.  But...it is the last time I intend to write their respective names in this blog except maybe in the comments section....Perhaps they deserve to be declared individually....Mmmmmm.....pondering....wasting screen space and your time....Sorry about that....I'm gonna go with specific personalization since this is their last hurrah!  I'm certain they would appreciate the extra effort of the additional key strokes.)
Where was I?  Oh, yeah.  Where in the hell was 'D' going?  Nikki whispered, almost in panic mode, "Where's he going?  Why is he leaving us here?  Don't you feel vulnerable without him?"

NOPE.  I didn't.  I can't really explain it.  Nerves should have had me fidgeting and uptight.  You'd think I'd have been straining to keep my morning tea down.  At the very least, I should have needed to pee again in a major way.
My calm and unruffled demeanor surprised and pleased me.  I almost felt like the Old Me.  Strong.  Confident.  Self-reliant.  Maybe even a little Spunky!  I don't mean I was gonna jump up and get all sassy and bossy with the judge and bailiff in close proximity, I'm merely saying I felt OK about whatever was gonna happen.
What were the possible outcomes here?
1.  Jaymie gets her way and decides to fight it out with me. We share stories of despicable debauchery  with anyone within ear shot and in the end I am slapped with a restraining order listed with all law enforcement agencies in the country for three years.  OR...
2.  Jaymie backs her skinny ass down and we stick with the Non-Clets order, also valid for three years, the judge approves it, we sign it and Richard and Jaymie get to retain some small measure of dignity by not discussing their shameful behavior in open court.

Either way....I'm golden, People!  Jaymie will be out of my life.  Sure, I preferred the second scenario because always getting the extra pat-down when you fly could get old, but other than that, I just wasn't overly concerned.  Jaymie and I both wanted the same thing. (No, I don't mean Richard.)  She wanted me WAY gone and I finally wanted no more of her either.
This would be my Independence Day no matter the outcome.

Nikki and I sat quietly and listened to the first few cases.  MAN!  There are some authentically fucked up people on the planet! (I know. For a while, I was one of them.) Scary shit.  I'm not kidding.  To this day, I wonder if this one woman that was seeking a permanent order against a stalker old boyfriend is living safe and sound.  Made me shudder!  I sent some nasty emails and visited a church.  That guy was following the poor woman everywhere and trashing her property.
Put anything in perspective, Jaymie??  Maybe we could make this go away, huh?

Again...NOPE.  'D' comes back and quietly spoke to me saying he had been talking with Jaymie in the hall and she wanted to move forward with the Clets order.  He could not convince her otherwise. Our case would be heard next.
OK.  So be it.  Our case was called and we moved to the desks in front of the judge.  Now our seats faced one another.  I made sure Jaymie saw me look her right in the eyes.  Not a threatening gaze, just a glance that said what the angels of the Healing Heart had shared, "Hold your head up.  Be strong.  You did nothing wrong."  After that first eye contact, she never looked at me again.

Then, I sat down next to 'D', crossed my arms on the desk with my wedding ring hand on top pointed toward Jaymie like a laser beam.  That just felt right.
Jaymie was all on her lonesome at her desk, she never sat, looking very timid, very distressed and kind of wretched.  She had a folder presumable chalked full of copies of email I had sent.
Awesome.  Let's read every one out loud.

There was no swearing in.  Nothing formal at all.  Just the judge asking Jaymie simple questions.  Maybe he was purposely dumbing it down for the frightened pixie.  He told her he knew that there had been a Non-Clets agreement signed yesterday but she had chosen to disallow that document to be approved today.  He was bewildered by that decision. He asked, "Why is that, Ms. Sim****?"

Jaymie, in a barely audible tone answered with something that sounded like, "She has a lawyer and I don't."  (Waaaaaaaaa!  Want some cheese with that whine??)
The judge was ever so patient. "Why are you here, Ms. Sim****?"

To me that meant...Let's get the party started, shall we?

"A year ago I had affair with her husband.  She has been harassing me since she found out."

Harassing is such a subjective term, but there are legal standards.  The judge sensed our case was not going to reach the level of LEGAL harassment and right away, he started to steer toward the path of least resistance.  He asked 'D' if he hoped the Non-Clets order could still be implemented.  'D' assured him, "Absolutely, your Honor.  We believe we all want the same thing here."

Back to the whiner, "Ms. Sim****, are you alone here today?"
"No. My Dad and boyfriend came, too."
"Why don't we have your father join you at the plaintiff's table?"
Daddy James maneuvered through the maze of chairs up to the front of the court to sit next to his darling baby whore bag. (Some of you hate when I resort to name calling, but I plead for your understanding here.  This is my FINAL post about Jaymie!  Allow me a little leeway.)

The judge welcomed Daddy James to his courtroom and then the cajoling began.  I'm paraphrasing here...the judge started with:
Ms. Sim****, I have read the Non-Clets order and it appears to be very thorough.  Maybe we could begin by reviewing it and see where you feel it may not be what you are looking for.
Then he asked Daddy James to take a moment and discuss the options available to his daughter with her and perhaps offer advice on how to proceed.

That may not have been exactly what His Honor said, but what he meant was clear enough.
Jaymie has every right to plead her case, but she could walk out of here with no order at all if she pushed her luck.  The bird in the hand, the Non-Clets order, was looking pretty good.  She may want to reconsider.

After a few awkward moments of the hushed conference between Daddy James and Jaymie, the judge asked them if they had any questions.
"May we speak to Mr. 'D' outside for a moment?"
The Judge with the patience of Job, nodded to 'D' and 'D' couldn't get to the door quick enough.
After they left, I moved back to sit with Nikki, wondering aloud, but discreetly, about how poor, poor Richard might be holding up out there.  I can't fully express to you what a mental train wreck he was.  I took some measure of satisfaction in that.

A recess was taken in our case and the Judge heard another while Jaymie met with 'D' and Daddy in the hall.  Later, 'D' would share that Jaymie was easily convinced by Daddy James to move on and let it go.  Ironic that is exactly what so many (stupid) people say to betrayed spouses, right?
'D' only had to assure her that if any of the specifics of the Non-Clets order were violated by me within the three year period, the order would automatically revert to a full Clets restraining order, then he left the two of them to confabulate.

'D' returned to his seat next to me.  All we could do now was wait.  Soon, Daddy James returned alone to his perch next to Geek Boy in the back.  Maybe Jaymie had to potty.  Less than 5 minutes after Daddy James, Jaymie came back, almost rushing through the doors.  Weird.
'D' stepped toward the back to ask if they were ready.  They said yes.  After the current case being heard was completed, he informed the bailiff that we were ready to proceed.

Back to the desks in our previous positions, the judge asks, "Ms. Sim****?  What have you decided?"
"I want to add something to the Non-Clets order and then I'll sign it."
"What is it you want to add?"

Get ready....You are gonna LOVE this!!

"She has to keep her husband away from me, too!"  
I almost laughed out loud right there!
I know I sucked in a quick breath and held it for a while with my lips pinched together.  The idea was just so absurd!  'D' didn't need to ask me if I would approve such an addition to the order.  He felt he could answer for me.
"We would be fine with the addition, Your Honor.  I will write it in now."

The very smart judge knew the not-so-smart plaintiff was moving toward the outcome he had desired from the get-go.  Even though this was a totally non-enforceable requirement in the order, he nodded his approval.  The bailiff handed the agreement to 'D'.  He made the changes.  I initialed them. (while doing my best not to snicker!) The agreement was given back to Jaymie, then the bailiff again, who gave it to the judge, who passed it to the clerk.

It was a done deal.  Up until this point, I hadn't said a word.  No one had even said my name except the bailiff when he called our case.  But, now the judge turned to me.

"Mrs. Fe****, do you fully understand that if you violate this Non-Clets order you will find yourself right back in here?"
I answered him succinctly and loudly enough for all to hear, "Your Honor, I never want to see or hear from Ms. Sim**** ever again.  Thank you for your time."

Alrighty then!!  We're outta there!  Jaymie, Daddy James and Geek Boy Kevin left first.  'D' said he needed to stay and finalize the order with the clerk.  He would meet us in the hall with Richard.

I was jubilant! Back in the hall, Richard was sitting close to the doors.  I guess he saw our smiles because he went from frightened puppy face to the look of a man that had just been pardoned from death row.
I couldn't wait to tell him about the new clause Jaymie added to the order.  I had to keep HIM away from HER!  Hilarious, right?

He dropped his head.  He said he knew why she added that.
When Jaymie and her Daddy were in the hall, Richard had been in the men's room.  Richard had completed his piss just as Daddy James left Jaymie alone in the hall.  Richard saw what he thought was a boy with his head down in a book sitting by the doors of the courtroom.  He walked toward him (her!) to take the seat he had been in pre-pee-pee trip.  He (she!) looked up at him and he smiled.
Then, a second too late...he realized his mistake!  Damn his poor vision!  Damn, Jaymie's boyish new hair cut!  Panic setting in!!  He starts to retreat just as Jaymie leaps to her feet and makes for the safety of the court to announce the addition to the order.
I wish I could've been a fly on the wall for that accidental encounter!
The perfect ending.  Nearly poetic.

The only way this day was gonna get any better was if I took my friend, Nikki, to a fine lunch, with wine and then did a little shopping at Nordstrom.  So, that's exactly what I did.

Bye, Bye, Bitch Whore.  THE END.

The End of Jaymie, Part 2

First an apology, not for my extended time away, but for underestimating my sorely lacking aptitude for brevity in story telling.  
In my last post, when I started writing about my day in court with Jaymie, the END of my time in Crazy Town that was wrongly ruled by my bitterness and contempt for the embodiment of my husband's mid-life crisis solution, I think I predicted two posts only. That's not gonna work out.  This second installment has run a little longer than I anticipated.  
So, sue me and back to court I'll go.

Nikki and I powdered our noses and chattered quietly about Jaymie's lack of hair and about how she has very diverse taste in her sexual partners.  It was sort of confusing.
Geek Boy Kevin was younger than Jaymie by a year and if stereotypes hold true, probably even less mature than his total years on the planet.  Even at the fake age Richard told Jaymie, 54, that put him at 30 years her senior.
Geek Boy writes comic books.  Richard is an attorney.
Geek Boy was just about as tall as his new mate, about 5'10 and couldn't weigh more than 140 pounds soaking wet.  (if Jaymie and Geek Boy breed, they will have some seriously scrawny kiddos.  I see many years of school yard bullying in their futures.)  Richard had been working out hard to impress his baby whore.  He had quite a set of guns and his pecs were solid.  He stands 6' 2" and usually weighed in around 190.  He was looking his best for "a man of his age" as the saying goes.  He sported a bit of a sagging bootie and love handles formed by many years of sitting at his desk in his office/love nest.  Even with those normal age related body shape maladies, he would have nothing to fear from Geek Boy, should the bean pole get feisty with desire to defend Jaymie's honor.
There are many more contrasts and anomalies between Jaymie's two most recent fuck buddies, but I grow bored with this deviation from the end of my story.  Besides, I'm sure you get the idea of the point I was beginning to make.  IMHO, Jaymie latched on to the next guy in line that showed an interest in her.  I consider it scripture to say, women that have affairs with married men have minimal self-esteem at best and resolute self-loathing at worst.

When Nikki and I emerged, all freshened up and ready to rumble, Richard and 'D' were waiting.  They motioned us to the elevator.  When we all entered and the doors closed, 'D' said he had stopped and introduced himself to Jaymie, Daddy James and Geek Boy.  I glanced at Richard, wondering where the hell he took his shivering self while that little conversation had taken place.  Never asked, because I felt fairly certain if he could have been in a completely different time zone than Jaymie and her Back-Up Boys, he would've given his left testicle to do so.

'D' informed me Jaymie had girded her loins and declared her intention to seek the full on CLETS restraining order, disregarding all agreements that had been made previously.
I gotta say...that threw me.  I had beaten down my fighting persona, sucked up my compulsion for retribution and ultimately craved a fresh start far away from Crazy Town.
This is when 'D' showed me he was undoubtedly good at his job of client control.
"Shawn, I know you wanted a chance to speak and tell your side of the story.  I understand why that would be important to you, but if you'll just trust me, I think I can get the NON-CLETS back on track.  If I can't, I'll get a continuance and we will come back prepared to defend against the order."

My brain only registered the words "COME BACK".  No way.  Not a chance. That was not gonna work for me.  It had to be done today.  Now.  At once.  On a normal, average, boring day, I have the patience of a gnat with ADHD.   This sure as hell wasn't a normal day.  There would be no coming back.
"No way, 'D'  We are not coming back.  This ends today.  I do trust you.  You can do what you need to do first.  But if that little cunt (yea..I said cunt in a courthouse and I despise that word.  Sorry.) won't let it go, I want to fight.  I want to make it as awful for her as the law will allow.  Are we agreed?"

After a very brief glimpse at my increasingly uncomfortable husband, 'D' told me we were on the same page, and proceeded to lead us to the assigned courtroom at the end of the lengthy hallway.
As we approached the court of contention, we all spotted Jaymie and the Back-Up Boys (starting to like that nick-name!) ahead, entering court through the double doors.
'D' paused.  "Rich, I want you to stay out here in the hall.  It won't help having you in there.  It would probably make matters worse.  I can defend against what Shawn has done to Jaymie, but not what you did.  Why risk pissing her off even more?"
At first, I protested, but 'D' gently reminded me, I had given him first shot at finishing this and as such, should yield to what he considered important for the best possible outcome.  I took a very deep, cleansing breath and relented.

A chivalrous 'D', pushed open the door and held it for Nikki and myself to pass through.  Instantly we saw my nemesis seated with her guards in the back row, faces forward, away from us.  As soon as 'D' saw where they were seated, he ushered us to the row furthest away in the surprisingly tight space of the rectangle room.
We were not the only restraining order cases to be heard that morning.  Not even close.  We were fourth on the docket and there would be more after my case was finished....and it damn well would be finished today, hopefully before lunch...one way or the other.

The End of Jaymie, Part 1

You know what?  I could waste another entire post telling you all about how I spent the rest of the night after I was pummeled with the news of my impending trip to El Cajon Court, a command performance for the judge that refused to sign off on the Non-Clets agreement.
I could admit how much wine I drank while seeking a means for my survival when having to be in the same zip code, let alone the same damn stuffy courtroom with Jaymie, from the angels of the Healing Heart.
I could wax quite eloquent (that might be a bit of a reach!) about my excessively dutiful husband and how he was struggling to come to grips with the SNAFU that was our Plan A.
I could type a page full of words, forming sentences, some interesting to read, others just placed there to elaborate so I can hear myself talk.  Stretching out the inevitable.  Trying to entertain with my tale of trauma.
Hell...you must know I can squander cyberspace if you've followed me for long!

But, I owe you all better than that.  I deserve better than that.  Let's just cut to chase.  We're within two last posts of the End of Jaymie in my life.  Can I get an AMEN?!

Sleep came at a premium that night, but there was no way I was gonna resort to medication to knock me out.  I wanted to be at my most alert when I walked into court the next morning.  Armed with astute advice from my time spent on the Healing Heart, my attitude was not what I had anticipated.  I can't say I was anxious to get on with it, but I sure was not over whelmed with trepidation. 

In the morning as I rose and enjoyed my tea, the day seemed non-threatening.  I continued to be very pleasantly surprised by my demeanor.  I showered and dressed, carefully selecting the perfect articles of clothing from my embarrassingly over stuffed closet.
You know I made sure I looked GOOD.  Black slacks tucked into tall black, very well polished riding boots.  Black and white silk blouse with a long knit black vest.  Just the right amount of jewelry and make up to be a veritable style icon, while showing the proper respect to the venue.  Pulled my hair back in a Sarah Palin-esque twist.  With my black glasses, I could have passed for her younger, taller sister.   I was going for a stellar combo of hot and business smart and I think I nailed it.
As my dear friend and business partner, Nikki, says...I was smellin' the fart!  LOL!
Crude, but hilarious.  Cracks me up every time as I am a huge fan of potty humor!  In case you don't get it, it means I felt like a world class bad ass.  No one was gonna bring me down.
BTW...Nikki met me at court.  She would never let me face the bitch whore alone.

Richard and I had to take two cars because he had to go to work after our morning meeting with the judge.  I don't think he had any clue what to expect.  I didn't either, but I just knew I'd be fine regardless.
I don't want to belabor the point of how pivotal the guidance from my online friends was for me, but I certainly can't neglect it either.  They gave me courage when I needed it most.  The instruction given to me online the previous night was this:
Hold my head up.  Be Strong.  I did nothing wrong!
Simple and absolutely exactly what I needed to hear.

Many of you and most of Jaymie's clan would disagree with the 'I did nothing wrong' part of the inspirational mantra.  Some might say I did a whole lotta shit wrong.  Maybe so, but in the end, I had tried to do the right thing.  I signed the Non-Clets agreement.  I didn't cling to the dream of public humiliation for Jaymie.  I "Moved On".

If you ever find yourself being summoned into court, I hope you can feel the same.
Unimpeachable and Righteous.  I sure wasn't innocent, but I felt guiltless.
I'm not gonna try to convince you I wasn't apprehensive about how this morning would go down.  As usual, I'm trying to convey precisely what I remember about the experience.  There were a couple of stray butterflies in my gut as I drove south to court, but not enough to cause intestinal distress.
Looking back, it is curious how relatively calm I felt.  Of course, that was on the drive.  I hadn't seen Jaymie's skeletal face yet.

'D' didn't want Richard to come to court.  Can you believe that shit??  I insisted on a united front.  Of course, Richard wanted whatever made me happy.  The plan was to meet 'D' and Nikki in the court cafe.  Richard said they had the best little breakfast bargain ever.  2 eggs, 2 pieces of bacon, toast and coffee for $3.99.  With the aforementioned butterflies taking up residence in my tummy, I would have to pass on the awesome deal.
We found a comfy booth and while Richard squirmed nervously, 'D' began to prep us for what he deemed was routine in these circumstances, the judge just asks each of us to state for the record that we agree with the order and then he signs it.
'D' told us where we should sit in court depended on where Jaymie and her crew planted their butts.  Her support system would probably be Geek Boy and Daddy James. We should sit in front of them so as not to cause undo dismay by staring at the backs of their pin heads.  'D' thought she may have a bigger entourage, but I was confident she didn't want an audience to witness the details of her shameful lack of social graces and possible residual comeuppance.

The clock showed less than 20 minutes to launch.  There had to be a pee stop and fresh lipstick application before we proceeded upstairs.  Nikki and I left the boys, telling them we would meet them at the elevator.  As of yet, there had been no bitch whore sighting.  That was about to change.

Nikki and I walked out of the cafe, stepped around the corner of the hallway to the right and almost strolled directly into Jaymie.  I'm not adding this little moment for dramatic effect, People.  It was a total shocker but I am happy to report that I was beyond cool.  I smiled in her direction ('D' would not have approved!) without making actual eye contact and turned back to Nikki, casually laughing as if she had just shared another comical bit of potty humor with me.  In my peripheral vision, I noted Geek Boy and Daddy James gawking, as if in abject horror, at the sight of me.
I leaned closer to Nikki and whispered, "There she is.  That's her.  Don't look now, but that's Jaymie."
Gotta give Nikki credit.  I would have given myself whiplash spinning my head around like that poor little girl in the Exorcist, to get a peek at the slut that had been the torment of my best friend for a year.  Nope.  Not Nikki.  She didn't even flinch.  She just kept walking but as we turned left into the ladies room, she cast a quick glance backward.

The thing about Jaymie that Nikki noticed immediately was her hair...or lack of it!  Nikki, wide eyed, blurted out, "What the hell is with that awful hair?"
I was astounded by Jaymie's new look, as well.  She had allowed someone to whack off her less than luxurious locks into a pixie!  It was such a bad alteration, I wondered if perhaps she had diced and cleaved it off on her own without the benefit of a reflective surface.  I know that in school she used to cut herself.  Maybe this was another form of self mutilation.  She looked like a scrawny school boy.  I confess, as small and superficial as it seems, this pleased me.

This is as good a place as any to pause.  The next post will be the End of Jaymie.  It will start with the news that Jaymie decided to change her mind.  I guess after getting another look at me, she decided she wanted a legal order with teeth.  No more Non-Clets.  She wanted it all on the record and listed with law enforcement.  Guess there would be a battle after all.
The End of Jaymie was gonna be an event to remember.

Best Laid Plans

God must have been of the opinion that I still had lessons to learn.  I was finally ready to accept the dreaded phrase "move on".  I was all systems go to actually embrace the idea with devotion and endeavor to implement those two previously spiteful, ill-conceived words into my life.
Before I was blessed with the supportive wisdom from the members of the Healing Heart, if anyone had told me it was time to "move on"....let's just say it wouldn't have gone well for them to remain anywhere within ear shot of my retort.

The relief I felt when I told 'D' that I wanted to accept the Non-Clets restraining order and NOT have to go to court was more than remarkable.  PLEASE, all of you that plot revenge on the affair partner in your head for fun, try and understand how incredible it feels to let her go.  It is a true adrenaline rush of self satisfaction.  The best gift you can give yourself.

I told you earlier, I thought I'd let Jaymie go weeks before this restraining order issue.  I firmly thought I'd removed that ugly monkey from my back, but it wasn't until this day that the release felt genuine.  When I actually chose to NOT jump on the chance to ridicule Jaymie publicly, I was amazed at myself.  Maybe that's the same way an alcoholic feels the first time he turns down a cold beer on a hot day....stupified but elated.
I felt victorious.  I felt liberated.  I felt empowered.

The next day, Sharon got Jaymie to sign the agreement.  I stopped by 'D's office on the way to work and signed it as well.  I didn't even review it.  I knew what it said, in way too many lawyerish words it said I had to stay away from Jaymie.  I didn't care how many ways the attorneys could write about no contact.  No need to read any of it.  In simple words it said...Let Jaymie Go.

Drove on to work as usual, right past the hotel where Jaymie and Richard had spent their last night together and I paid it no mind at all.  I was too busy basking in the glow of my emancipation!  I had been delivered from the bondage of obsession.  I know...I'm just repeating myself, but I so wanna be certain you get it.  This was a phenomenal leap forward for me and it felt glorious!

The whole day at work all seemed right with my world.  I knew it wasn't ALL right.  I knew Richard and I still had a long journey on the Road to Happy, but I was focusing on my successful first steps.
I was still floating on wings of hopefulness and well-being as I drove home when my cell phone rang.  It was Richard.  I was happy to see his name come up on the caller ID.  I knew he was pleased I had chosen wisely and avoided further confrontation.
And....my joy filled day was about to screech to an abrupt halt.
You know what they say about Best Laid Plans, right?  I had such high hopes for Plan A!  Crap!

"Hi, Honey.  What's up?"
"D called.  There's a problem with the order.  The judge refused to sign it."
"What?  Huh?  What are you talking about?"
I am always so articulate when caught off guard.  Not my fault, really.  Once again, my brain just wasn't able to process such nasty news very quickly.
Richard continued trying to clarify what he meant.
"The judge says he wants to hear the case.  He insists we all appear tomorrow in his courtroom."

Holy Shit!!  I already knew what he meant!!  He should just shut the fuck up!!  I needed a minute to shove my freshly battered brains back into my skull!  My heart was about to pulverize my insides and  I doubt there was a whole lot breathing going on.  Between gasping for small gulps of air, I managed something like this:

"How can he do that?  We both signed the papers.  We both agreed.  How can he do that?"
"He's a judge, Honey.  He can do whatever he sees fit.  'D' is still working with his clerk trying to get the judge on the phone.  It's not a done deal yet.  I wanted you to know exactly what was happening as soon as I knew.  It just doesn't look good."
"Well, fix it!  I can't handle anymore!  I do not want to see her, Richard!  I don't know what I'll do if I have to see her! Fix it!"

And then, he apologized.  In the past year, I heard that man say I'm sorry more times than any person should ever hear anyone utter any words in any lifetime.
He was so sorry that he was the cause of it all.  Sorry was not gonna help now.

The next day, I would have to rise and shine and face the Bitch Whore.   What a difference a day makes!  In my momentarily clear and jubilant mind, Plan A meant I was done with Jaymie.
Now, I had to face Plan B.  What the hell was Plan B?  The freedom to take another whack at taunting, humiliating and exposing Jaymie for the fallen woman (girl) she was?

This time I wasn't falling back on that version of Plan B.
I remained steadfast in my desire to "move on".

So what would Plan B look like?  I couldn't picture it at all.
I needed my new best friends, the clear thinking, enlightened members of the Healing Heart.  They would be there for me.  They would know what to do.  They would be able to visualize Plan B for me.
I couldn't get home to my computer fast enough.

The Home of the Brave

I love the 4th of July, Independence Day!  I love everything about it.  I love time off to enjoy the company of family and friends.  I love baseball, the beach and a good barbecue.  I love hot dogs, hamburgers, potato salad and s'mores.  I love wearing red, white and blue, especially the cool 4th of July t-shirts you can get for $5 at Old Navy every year.  I love fireworks.  I love our flag.  I love our country.

I did not plan on writing a post today.  I have been gearing up for a festive celebration at the beach tomorrow.  Packing up all the trappings needed for an early get away to the coast to celebrate our country's declaration of freedom with thousands of my closest friends.  (It's gonna be a zoo out there and I love that, too!)

::::Adding this little factoid on July 5th;  There were over a million people on the beaches of San Diego yesterday!  CRAZY!  It cost us $50 to park!  Worth it!!  So fun!::::  

As I was loading the back of my car and humming Yankee Doodle (Really, yea.  I do that.) my brain drifted to thoughts of the real meaning of the holiday.  The signing of the Declaration of Independence.  Such a monumental, historic day!  How brave those men, Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Jefferson and John Adams, to name but a few, were knowing that if they signed their names to such a treasonous document and were captured by the British, they would be hung, at the very least, probably drawn and quartered, too.  Amazing courage!

From there, my brain shifted gears again (ADD much?) to how brave we, betrayed spouses, are as we do the work to recover from the trauma of infidelity.   Whether we ultimately decide to stay or go, the courage required, the fortitude, the grits and the guts to survive and thrive after adultery are pretty damn close to heroism.

A reach?  Not in my book.  So I decided to come back to my computer and share some of these thoughts with you.

To heal we must declare ourselves independent of the need for any guarantees, not that we ever had any to begin with, but it sure felt like we did before DDay, right?   We renounce the shelter of the safety net that used to be our previously loyal spouse.  We boldly take control of our own destiny, not able to ignore the possibility of future peril, but able to function in spite of it.  We debate the infinite number of issues between staying or going.  With great intensity we weigh the pros and cons of leaving the cheater and starting over alone, or reconciliation with someone that nearly destroyed us.

That takes some serious chutzpah, People!  It's not fearlessness.  Nooooo!  Not even!  Far from it!  It is wicked scary!  But that's why I decided to stop packing up the towels, beach chairs and sunscreen.  I had to tell you all how freaking proud I am of you!!  Of ME, too, for that matter!!  We are reclaiming our right to the pursuit of happiness!  We own it!  Maybe it took longer than we thought it should, but like our great Nation, nothing worthwhile ever comes without supreme effort and sacrifice.

If you haven't found your Road to Happy yet, I hope you still take a minute to give yourself some credit. When I was living in Crazy Town, I never gave myself credit for merely enduring.  Just enduring when life is spiraling out of control is an achievement worth celebrating.  This weekend, as you put one foot in front of the other, heading into another pain filled day, please remember...You are stronger than you think! You are a champion in the making and I am a BIG fan!

Happy Independence Day, my friends!

To CLETS or Non-CLETS? That is the Question.

Legal jargon, rules and specifics can be very dull and dry.  Being married to family law attorney, I understood more than the average temporary restraining order recipient.  But I didn't know dick about a CLETS or Non-CLETS order.
What I did understand was that for the time being I was under the restrictions of a temporary restraining order.  It demanded I stay the hell away from Jaymie.

Before I was served, I was settling into a much brighter place, out of Crazy Town, that was a Jaymie Free Zone.  I could have cared less that she wanted a piece of paper to make me stay away from her and any aspect of her wretched little life.
The key word in the above sentences: "BEFORE".  The order was a monumental trigger!  After I received the temp order, I dashed, unthinking, motivated by pure visceral anger and very few rational thoughts, out of my newly found Jaymie Free Zone right back to a rapid fire dangerous neighborhood in Crazy Town called, Fuck Jaymie and the Horse she Rode in on!

So close to moving on and out of Crazy Town, but when Jaymie decided to push me, I was determined, almost compelled to push back.  I was certain I could wipe the floor of the El Cajon court with her boney ass.  She would rue the day that she challenged me and spread her stick like legs for my husband.
(For any new readers...PLEASE remember, I am writing this about the past.  I have learned much since then.  SO MUCH!  Most importantly, wasting time, energy or emotion on the other woman or man, is less than pointless.  It's self-sabotage.  If they stay out of your life, if a strict no contact policy is maintained...let the trollops go!  They will do nothing but hinder your recovery.)

'D' was working like a rabid legal beagle to sell me his peace plan.  I'll briefly try to share the particulars.  As I said before, what I had now was a temporary restraining order.  In court, Jaymie would ask for a permanent order.
My attitude continued to be:  She could have the damn thing but I was gonna make her pay through the soul to get it.  I told 'D' that I wanted my chance to tell my side of the torrid tale.  'D' was a quick study.  Richard must have schooled him.  'D' didn't tell me to do anything.  He didn't tell me what I couldn't do either.  He shared options.  The solution that Jaymie had already agreed to was the one he hoped I would buy.  I didn't have much time to dwell on it.  We were supposed to meet in court in two days.

This is what I learned:
CLETS:  California Law Enforcement Telecommunication System.
It's a data base designed to enforce restraining orders.
Once you get tossed into that data base, your name pops up with a big red check stating how naughty you've been anytime there is any type of law enforcement checking your ID.

 There's really only one difference between the CLETS and the Non-CLETS...but its BIG.
A CLETS is filed with Law Enforcement.  A non-CLETS isn't.  It is merely the same order agreed upon between two parties AND approved by a judge.  If the terms are violated within the agreed time period, the Non-CLETS automatically becomes a CLETS.
Get it?  If not...no biggie.  This ain't law school.  

Just know that 'D' was all about getting me to agree to a Non-CLETS so I wouldn't be detained by police if I got pulled over for a speeding ticket and I wouldn't have to go to secondary when reentering the country.  Stupid pain in the ass bull pucky like that made the Non-CLETS look pretty good.  I mean, who wants to worry that a piece of paper could make every cop and immigration official look at you sideways??

'D' was quite convincing.  He explained that Jaymie had already agreed to the Non-CLETS.  If I agreed to it as well, 'D' would take it to the judge to be signed the next day and I would not have to go to court at all.  Jaymie and I would never cross paths again.
Richard didn't say squat, except maybe, "It's up to you, Honey."
Was I ready to give up my last chance to purge the poison in my gut, let it rise like bile and spew it all over Jaymie and her clan in court?
You'd think so, but I needed to be slapped around...in a compassionate sort of way.

Enter the members of the Healing Heart.  I went to the message board that had recently jump started my walk on the Road to Happy.  I posted the issue about court.  What I thought I wanted, felt I needed and what 'D' strongly urged me to do.  
It didn't take long for for me to hear the responses loud and clear.
Let her go.
Don't give her anymore of you.  
She has taken too much already.  
You can't recover with her in your life.
There's nothing you could say to her that will help heal your marriage.

Lots of replies.  All of them the same.  What all their inspirational words said to me was:
I gotta run as fast as I can from Jaymie and Crazy Town! This is my moment!  Make the right choice today for a better tomorrow!

That's the day I truly let Jaymie go.  I thought I had weeks before, but the restraining order had me locked and loaded with renewed animosity.  With the support of the amazing mentors on the Healing Heart, I was empowered to face my future completely Jaymie-less.
I felt 1000 pounds lighter!  Jaymie was a burden that I should never have tried to carry.
I let that thought go, too.  What's done was done.  I was gonna learn to focus on NOW and let THEN take a distant backseat.
The relief was as life changing as it was fleeting.

Compromise

Richard was anxiously waiting for the details of my appointment with 'D'.  I don't know what he thought was gonna happen down the hill in 'D's' glass office, with banished best friend, Marc, staring at my back.  But, certainly after my unpredictable nature the past year, it was reasonable for Richard to be a bit agitated until my return.
Lucky for him, he didn't have to wait for me to drive the 20 minutes north.  As soon as I left 'D', a call was made to Richard presumably so the two of them could decide what to do about me under the guise of discussing legal strategy.  Told you 'D' wasn't really MY lawyer.  He was all about protecting Richard.  What 'D' seemed to know instinctively was that protecting Richard was the best way to help me, too.  Of course, I was blinded by my dark anger and could not see any of that.
I was gonna see the light soon, but almost not soon enough.

'D' wanted Richard's thoughts on contacting Jaymie.  Did Richard think she would be receptive to a conversation with the attorney representing the crazy woman that had made her uncomfortable (that's putting it lightly!) enough to file a restraining order or would approaching her be more like poking an angry rattlesnake with a stick?  Might she accept a compromise?  Richard was honest (this was an attractive new trait he seemed determined to employ with consistency) with me about the call.  He told me he explained to 'D' that he had no idea how Jaymie would react to contact of any kind.  He also told 'D' that we had no current phone number or email for her.
Richard, 'D' and I came to an agreement about a starting point.   If there was gonna be a conversation, it would have to start with Sharon, Jaymie's ex-employer.
Per my request, Sharon had just recently reconnected with Jaymie and had forged some weird sort of bond with her.  Regardless of Sharon's view on this entire debacle, at least she knew how to get Jaymie on the damn phone.  That was the first call 'D' needed to make.

I think Sharon actually enjoyed the drama.  She was more than happy to be a mediator.  Within the hour,  Sharon coordinated the dialog.  'D' got a call from Jaymie and he made it count.  He wasn't about to miss an opportunity to throw some cold water on the over-heated situation.  In the next couple of days, 'D' and Richard would do all they could to prevent me from pouring on copious amounts of lighter fluid and striking another match, sending the minimal chance for compromise up in flames.

I'll never know what 'D' really said to Jaymie on the phone that afternoon.  If I was given the chance to write the script the call would have gone something like this:
'D':  Jaymie, I don't think you thought this restraining order through.  Shawn will do her level best to degrade, disgrace and discredit you in public court.  She will not hold back a single sordid detail of the time you spent with her husband.  Are you sure you want that??
Jaymie: (whining and crying pathetically) Shawn is so mean!  I don't know why she won't leave me alone!  I can't live like this anymore!  I don't know what else to do!  My daddy and my geeky boyfriend say I have to take her to court.  My life is so awful!!

The actual compromise communion probably went more like this:
'D':  Jaymie, I'm hoping we can avoid a visit with the judge.  I am working to find a solution that will bring closure for everyone involved with the least amount of distress.  There are a number of ways for you to feel safe without you and Shawn having to face each other in court.  I think we should try to avoid that scenario, if at all possible.
Jaymie:  I just want to be sure Shawn never bothers me again!  She is a hateful human being!

'D' had an idea that would insure a tidy ending to the turmoil.
Could we really both get what we wanted without standing before a man in a black robe asking us to swear to tell the whole truth?  Hadn't I craved a chance to tell the whole truth for a year??  On what fucking alternate universe did Jaymie and I share any common ground??
So began the CLETS/Non-CLETS compromise idea.
(legal details of this maneuver to follow)
With a little help from Sharon, 'D' managed to sell it to Jaymie.  Sharon agreed with 'D' that Jaymie & I meeting in court for a showdown was not in any one's best interest.  She told Jaymie she could get what she wanted with this compromise.  Jaymie felt like Sharon was in her legal corner and as such, followed her educated lead.
The next step was gonna be quite a hurdle.
'D' had to convince me I was gonna get what I wanted.

Thank you, Maya Angelou

In case you live in a cave, or a remote village with no cable or Internet access or you actually have a relatively normal busy life that allows for little attention to be paid to any news channel, radio or television, here's a not so new News Flash...Maya Angelou passed away.  If you are not a fan of poetry or authors that write to inspire all of us to a higher calling, you may not know her.

I was never a fan in the truest sense of the word.  I admit, what little I knew of Ms. Angelou was because of Oprah.  I just never paid a great deal of attention to all she had to share.  She seemed lovely, kind, caring and capable of influencing some very powerful people.  I had never read any of her essays or autobiographies before, but since she passed yesterday, I have heard and read many of her most memorable quotes.
This one stood WAY out from the pack.

"I can be changed by what happens to me. 

But I refuse to be reduced by it."

Maya Angelou

Thank you, Maya Angelou!  Those two short sentences speak encyclopedia sized volumes to me!  If only I had just a small fraction of her command of the English language!  To be so motivational, I would need a large infusion of her introspective brain function, as well.  If I had been so blessed, maybe I could have shared something this empowering with you before today.  I could have learned to live by this credo before now.

We are ALL changed by infidelity.  All of us.  The betrayed, the cheaters, the affair partners.  
In so many ways we will be altered forever.  BUT...we do NOT have to let the havoc and devastation "reduce" us.  No way.  We MUST refuse to let the woeful unfaithfulness render us "less" than we have always been.

In fact, my hope and ultimate goal is to rise above the duplicity, the deception, the wrongfulness and the bitterness to become substantially more than I was before DDay.  I want US, Richard and I and all of you to do much more than endure.  We can INSIST that we grow into caring spouses and friends that are enhanced by the pain instead of diminished by it.

In very simple words that come much easier to me...Adultery sucks.  It kicked my ass and rocked my world and changed me in many ways, but it will NOT drag me down forever.  I won't allow it!  I intend to rise above it.  Join me, won't you?

Time to Lawyer Up

Each word I read of Jaymie's statement in the restraining order subpoena was another step backward, deeper into Crazy Town.  Any of the meager progress I'd made traveling out of that God forsaken hell hole was nearly lost.  I say "nearly" because I had an ace in that hole...the good people of the Healing Heart.  I don't think I went to them for help when I first received the order to appear in court.  Wish I had.  Yeah, whatever!  If wishes and buts were candy and nuts my cheating husband would have kept it in his pants and I wouldn't be writing this blog!  Blah....

Anyway, my anger level was peaking as I read how she felt like such a victim.   Her life was so disrupted by my intrusions!  PLEASE!  She'd noted that she had an affair with my husband.  That was the way she put it.  "A year ago I had an affair with Shawn's husband."  The rest was all about my "harassment" of her and her family.  Most of it was true.  Some of it wasn't.  Didn't matter.  I wanted to make her eat every word and the paper it was printed on.

I needed a lawyer and NOT the one I was married to.  I wanted a shark.  Someone that would help me take down Jaymie like the doomed swimmer chick at the beginning of 'Jaws'.  (I'm loving that visual!) Asked Richard who I should call and he suggested 'D' the law partner of banished best friend, Marc.  'D' isn't just Marc's partner.  He is also a very old and dear friend of ours, because of that I chose to use only his first initial in this post.  I say "our friend" but more accurately I mean Richard's.  We knew 'D' way before Marc, but it's a boy's club, I tell ya.  They are only friendly with the wives if there is no need to cover the man's rear end.

In my mind's eye, I saw myself in court, facing Jaymie, all lawyered up and supremely intimidating.  I'd get my chance to speak and my voice would make her ears bleed.  This is what I had wanted for a year.  This is why I "harassed" her and her family.  She would have to sit there while Geek Boy Kevin, Daddy James and maybe even her Mama listened to me wax eloquent about the times she got naked with my husband, the places she slept with him and even the time she begged him to leave me and our kids.  They would learn of all the lies she told to be with him in secret and how she was tossed aside like a used condom when I found out.
I was thinking I could chalk a big one up in my win column.

Did Richard really want me to drag 'D' into this?  I tried to reason with him that he was running out of friends.  Maybe we should use a stranger.  I planned to spill it all.  Keeping it as anonymous as possible seemed to be the responsible and reasonable thing to do.  (the fact that I had any reasonable thoughts at that time is surprising, right?)  He felt like 'D' would take the best care of me. That's how he put it.  He explained that a restraining order was not a little thing to be dismissed.  This was very serious and he wanted a friend to have my back.
I said OK.  He's the lawyer.  Gotta trust his gut when heading to court.

He gave 'D' a call and set up an appointment for me.  I think I saw him the next day.  I went to his office and of course, Marc was there.  I didn't even look at him.  Walked straight to 'D's office and sat with my back to the door.  I was grateful for the positioning.  'D's desk faced out to the hall, straight toward Marc's office and both walls were all glass.  Staring out at Marc while I told 'D' the horrific story would have been too much.  I mean...it was all TOO MUCH, but that might have sent me running for another attorney in a hurry.

'D' let me tell him about the past year and how I couldn't wait to share it all in court.  He seemed like a good listener, but I think he was manipulating me, or at least trying to.  He really thought if he let me bad mouth Richard and Jaymie in the privacy of his office I'd get it out of my system and he could talk me into a gentler way of dealing with the mess I'd created.
I found out later that's how he saw it.  This was MY mess.  He thought Richard should be running for the hills because I was a nut job.

He tried to convince me that I was talking about ruining Richard reputation.  That open court wasn't a place to air dirty laundry.  He told me I might not even get a chance to speak.  I said if I didn't, then he was a really shitty attorney.  I gave him a chance to back out.  I told him I thought contacting him to represent me was a bad idea, but that Richard was adamant.
I asked him if he was my lawyer or Richard's.  That was key.

I was in that office over an hour.  Crying, yelling and demanding, but not once acquiescing.  'D' finally decided he was not changing my mind that day, so he offered up a compromise.
He said, "Let me call Jaymie.  Let me get a feel of where she is on this.  Maybe I can find a way to work all this out."

Work it all out??  Wow.  Was 'D' really like "Super Lawyer"?  What did work it all out even mean?  My head was throbbing and my eyes were swollen from sobbing.  I was spent.  I asked again, "Are you my lawyer or Richard's?"  He assured me he would be my attorney and mine alone.
Can you believe I bought that?

Debbie Downer Checking In

I almost didn't post this.  As you may have come to understand if you are a regular reader, I don't like myself much when I whine.  I expect more from myself.  I like to wear the Toughie Pants.  Then, I figured screw it.  This blog started out as a virtual diary, a place to pour out my emotional bile and help me understand how to feel better, to DO better.  I put everything else out there, might as well show the world my whimpering side.  I'm working hard to convince Debbie Downer that depression isn't a sign of weakness.   It just means maybe I've tried to be strong for too long.

Before DDay, I never really understood the condition of depression.  I had not experienced it.  It was so foreign to me.  I considered it to be a state of mind that only infected weak people that couldn't get out of their own way.

Self-righteous and pompous much??  My judgmental mind thinks God doesn't like us to be self-righteous and oh so sure of our inner strength, so He sent me a ticket on the Karma bus to knock me right off that lame high horse.  That ticket was called DDay.
Don't scoff!  I know infidelity is never the fault of the betrayed.  I didn't deserve to get kicked in the heart.  I KNOW!  God wasn't really punishing me for feeling superior to those that don't wear Toughie Pants.  But, when other parts of my life aren't shining like rainbows and running like clock work, I just don't bounce back or fight back like I did before DDay, so sometimes I feel a little more sorry for myself than I should....or than I would have Pre-DDay.

Let me try to explain my melancholy attitude.  I've told you that I have tried very hard to learn to be a more sympathetic person since the end of my time in Crazy Town.  The old Toughie Pants me strives daily to be compassionate for others in pain instead of rolling my eyes and thinking something intolerant like, "Quit whining! Suck it up and move on!"
Well...maybe I wasn't that indifferent and hateful, but I was no bleeding heart to be sure.  If I can find understanding and even tender feelings for others suffering, why can't I give myself a break when I'm in pain??  When my heart aches, I get angry with myself.  What's up with that??

There is no doubt that I have been wallowing in a pseudo-state of depression for over a month.  I wasn't gonna write about it because I felt my woefulness unworthy of screen time.  I keep waiting for Toughie Pants to show up and rescue me.  She has been absent too long.  My spirit is as flat as Kate Moss' chest and I am sick of it!

Before you start thinking Richard did something heinous, let me clarify.  He is innocent.  I am heavy hearted because of something else regarding other members of my family.  This situation is just too personal to share.  I give you all most of my life here on these pages, but I am loathe to drag other dear loved ones into my online pity party.  Suffice it to say, my heart feels like a truck full of lead is resting upon it and I am helpless to do anything to change the course of the situation.
So as not to worry you, no one is terminal or even slightly ill.  It is all about distance, time apart and choices being made by someone I love more than life itself that has given life to Debbie Downer.

Debbie became part of my persona after DDay.  I never knew anything about her before then.  She had never revealed herself to me previously.  When I began to walk my Road to Happy, I thought I beat her back.  I was way wrong about that.  She lies in wait, just under the surface, for any situation that rocks my world.
She sucks the life outta me.
I question my lack of resiliency right now.  Did the affair aftermath rob me of my backbone? My steadiness? Should I be resigned to the fact that I am most certainly not the same person I was before?  OR...would I have reacted the same way right now dealing with this issue even if there had never been a DDay?

Besides questioning myself an exorbitant amount, I also worry that Richard will get tired of me being less than I used to be and move on.  Doesn't sound like I'm feeling my marriage is all that and a big bag of chips, does it?  But, in the deepest part of my soul, I believe it is stronger than any of our 31 years together.  Seriously.  How can I feel so sure of us yet question his commitment?
He has watched me sink for a month.  He has tried to be supportive but he is sad as well.  As I struggle with this fresh drama I worry about disappointing Richard.  WHY??  Because, contrary to what I am telling you I truly believe about our relationship, I worry he will get very tired and become exasperated with Debbie Downer and seek out a new Jaymie!
Irrational?  You bet! Since when does that matter to a depressed person?  I never claimed or even thought I was perfect before, far from it, but since DDay, every now and again, when Debbie Downer rules the roost, I feel the need to be closer to perfect to protect myself from being hurt again.
That's a whole new neighborhood in Crazy Town.
That's a whole lot of pressure.

I'm not sure writing this is helping.

Here's the big question...why can't I just deal with the issue at hand without intermingling emotional baggage from the affair?  It's been 3 1/2 years!!  Will I battle with Debbie Downer and lingering effects of Richard's infidelity forever?  Will I ever stop questioning myself when I am in a tight spot?
Is this normal or am I not nearly as far along my Road to Happy as I profess?
Geez.  Son of a bitch.  I can't focus.  Somebody smack me.

The Last Straw

I'm still not quite sure which straw was the last.  Jaymie had been quite good at ignoring me for over a year.  What made her decide to take a stand now?  I already mentioned the fact that I feel confidant Daddy James and Geek Boy Kevin were ready to throw a tight lid on the pot I'd been stirring, but what was the last straw?  Would Jaymie really be willing to face me because the men in her life told her she should?  Maybe, but I'd be willing to wager there is a bit more to what broke the little skanky camel.

I think I know what this particular straw was made of and why it sent Jaymie over the edge into Crazy Town territory.  I mean...she had to be nuts to want to face me in court.  Even if it meant getting me out of her low life for good, she had to know I was gonna let it fly.  Daddy James and Geek Boy would never be able to look at her the same again.
So what was it?  I had not contacted her in over two weeks.  Why now?

The last straw may have been Sharon, Jaymie's ex-employer  The job Richard got for Jaymie with Sharon was undoubtedly the best one she had ever scored.  It was a bright star on an otherwise dim resume.  When I asked Sharon to help me get Jaymie to talk, I was tipping the scales, adding one final stick of straw too many.  Jaymie knew I'd tell anybody about my wayward husband and his baby whore to get what I wanted.  Until now, none of those people might be detrimental to her future.  That bright star in her work history was becoming overtly dark and smarmy.

I could be totally off base.  Jaymie had been fired, so maybe she wasn't listing Sharon on future job applications at all.   Sharon already knew about the affair.  I mean, I did walk into her office shouting, "Did you know Richard was fucking Jaymie?"  (That was quite a day! You can read all about that here:  Manic Meltdown Part 2)
Truth is...who gives a damn?  The last straw may have been named Daddy or Kevin or Sharon or maybe just Jaymie is sick of Shawn's shit.  Regardless, the straw was not to be denied.

Jaymie got no satisfaction from the call made to me by the sheriff on 11/11/11 but even though I had not tried to contact her since October, the following week, on 11/18, she filed a restraining order against me.  I didn't know about it until after I started this blog on 12/01/11.  I guess they were a little back logged at the Sheriff's department.  Not a lot of available staff to drive around delivering paperwork for restraining orders based on bull-puckey written by a dip-shit that thought sleeping with a married man nearly three times her age was a good career move.

My timing has never been great.  Just as I had decided to move on, to find a way to heal myself, Jaymie was stamping her foot and was getting ready to rumble.  Ironic, right??
I start writing.  Putting my pain into words on a computer screen in hopes of discovering the beginning of my Road to Happy.
Less than a week after I started typing my story, I found  The Healing Heart.  The blog was a good first step.  The members of the Healing Heart message boards were a giant leap.
A couple of days after that, Richard gets a call from Sharon.

Jaymie was kind enough to call and let Sharon know about the restraining order.  Again, not sure why she decided to keep Sharon in the lurid loop.  If I had to surmise, I'd say she wanted very badly to make me out to be the evil bitch in all this.  She was playing the poor innocent young girl taken advantage of by a filthy old perv and then terrorized by his wicked wife.
Whatever her motives, it served me well.  I knew about the restraining order before I ever got served publicly.

I wasn't dreaming about getting served the subpoena at my store.  My business partner, Nikki, knew all about my time in Crazy Town, but it wouldn't be fair to her to bring it to our place of business.  Nor was I enthusiastic about the Sheriff showing up at my house with the paperwork demanding my appearance in front of a judge.  The thought of my kids answering the door wanting to know what Mommy did to require a visit from law enforcement was very unappealing.
No prob.  As soon as Richard got the call from Sharon, I drove straight to the court house and served myself! So simple.  I wasn't hiding from this.

Even though I had made great strides to find a new road to recovery that didn't involve Jaymie, I was more than ready to hang a U-turn on the Road to Happy I was just beginning to discover.
The last straw that broke Jaymie's back set in motion the opportunity I had wanted for so long.
I was gonna throw dirty straw all over the courtroom!
So much for finding my Road to Happy just yet.

Face Off

(Gotta warn you, dear readers...I was a little heavy handed with the Jaymie bashing on this post.  I think the anonymous commenter that defended Jaymie from my last post got under my skin.   It never fails!  Tell me not to do something and I do it double time!!  Whatever.  Bashing Jaymie is harmless, satisfying and if it gets Anonymous riled up...Bonus!)

Don't get it in your head that Jaymie was growing a pair.  Geek Boy Kevin and Daddy James were behind this transformation of sorts.  I was certain of that.  If left to her own devices, Jaymie would have continued to ignore me because facing me meant facing herself.

Not unlike myself, I think she had been Living in the Land of Denial for the past year, too.  Could you blame her?  She had been given the dirt end of a shit stick by a man she begged not to leave her.  He dumped her, shunned her and let me run over her repeatedly.
That's gotta shake your self confidence...that is if she ever had any to begin with.  Dealing with me left the door wide open for her to be Focused on the Rear View Mirror.  Why would she want that?  She had Geek Boy and Daddy James throwing a massive tarp over any reflective surface that examined her part in the affair too closely.

Daddy James and Geek Boy must have convinced Jaymie to put a stop to my "harassment".  What they didn't know was I could not WAIT to get inside a courtroom with the Bitch-Whore!!
A FACE OFF!!  The chance to tell the world (or at least a little piece of El Cajon) on the record how I had been damaged, how I had been brutalized, how I had been betrayed.

If Jaymie was gonna force this Face Off, she had better be prepared for Daddy James and Geek Boy to hear every sordid, sleazy, despicable detail of the time she spent with MY husband.  I was almost giddy thinking about letting it all fly!  Way back when I made A Visit to Casa Jaymie, with my BFF Julie, to pick up all the goodies Richard had so generously given poor, unemployed sudo-hooker Jaymie,  I told Daddy James I had no problem airing Richard's dirty little secrets in court.  If I had to sue Jaymie to get back the swag, I relished the opportunity to shout from the witness chair that my cheating prick of a husband and his precious prostitute of a daughter were fucking every which way and back again.
You think he'd have remembered that.  How could he forget?  I was abundantly clear.
They must have wanted me gone even more than they were concerned about the fitful prospect of meeting me for a final Face Off.  That says something, People.  They were truly tired of being reminded about the truth of the events a full year previous.  Daddy James and Geek Boy wanted to see Jaymie as redeemed from the stupidity of her time spent as a lying, home wrecking tramp.  Time to go all in to make it be all gone.

The first call from the Sheriff's office came right before Julie's wedding on 11/11/11.  (Great anniversary date, right?)  Don't worry!!  I didn't have my phone on during the ceremony, but I did listen to a voicemail right before Julie walked down the aisle, from a deputy scolding me for my... what was the word he used....ridiculous?? I think that was it.  My ridiculous behavior.
I'm telling you it was like he was talking to a 7 year old.  He said something close to, "You don't wanna make me have to serve you with a restraining order.  You should just stop bothering Ms. Simpson.  This behavior is ridiculous."  LOL!!  It was absurd!  This particular deputy didn't think much of Jaymie's complaint.   It seemed like he made the phone call just to shut her up and send her packing.  He obviously had no interest in the paperwork required to even establish a case number.

Here's where I am still confused....I had not attempted to contact Jaymie since 10/25/11.  This is the last email I sent her:

I hear you're leaving soon.  Daddy buying you a trip, huh?  It's good you have someone to pay your way.

I still need to talk to you.  There are too many loose ends, too many question marks, too many holes to fill.

No way I can do it without having a conversation with you.  This will never be over unless I get the answers I need.

Wouldn't it be wonderful to just move on?  Forget the whole sordid mess?  You haven't even sent one email that says. "No!  I won't talk to you.  Never contact me again."  That leaves the door wide open.  Your dad and Kevin slammed the door, but we all know it's not them I need to talk to, even though I would LOVE to share some of what I know about you with them.  

Call me.  Get it over with.  Be done, so you can go on your little trip knowing I'll be nothing but a bad memory when you get back, instead of a shadow hanging over your head.

If you do the math, that's over 2 weeks of no contact before I got the call from the Sheriff.   I hadn't looked at her Facebook page.  I didn't leave any voice mails for Geek Boy to share with her.  I had sent no communication, electronic or otherwise for 17 days!  For the past year, I had rarely let more than a week go by without stirring the proverbial piss pot, but the warning from Sharon about the possibility of a restraining order did give me cause for consideration.  It made me think hard about how far I really wanted to go, so I hit the "contact" pause button.
Why did Jaymie want to go to the Sheriff now?  Why wake the sleeping antagonist?

At this point, it could've gone either way.  The fact that Jaymie was yanking my chain, challenging me, would tend to make you bet on me striking back, right?  I had been determined for over a year to get her to talk to me and in court, that could almost happen.  She might not be talking TO me, but she sure would have to listen.
Or...I might finally be ready to move forward and forget Jaymie ever existed.
As it turned out, just when I was ready to back off, Jaymie geared up for the Face Off.
Game on, Biyotch.