Sweet Dream or a Beautiful Nightmare

I realize I titled this with a Beyonce song title. I am in no way affiliated with Beyonce... shocker... and I don't really even like her music. I mean... c'mon folks? Bootylicious? Girls rule the world? Everything you own in the box to the left? Who wrote this stuff? Whatever. I am straying from the subject at hand. I latched on to the song title because I have been pondering how to finish my auto-biopic (no, I'm not narcissistic, thanks for asking)... and it seemed to fit. If you don't stop by my blog often, or you want a little refresher, or you just love me, you may want to start here, and then proceed to here, and after that you could stop by here. Or you could just read the whole dang blog. Whatever floats your boat....

Can you see the light at the end of this tunnel yet?

My story is my own. It is unique in it's own way. It is no great movie script. It is not even truly extraordinary.  But things that happened in my life, the griefs, the triumphs, the great leaps of faith shaped me and made me. In the spirit of closure, catharsis and release I am going to finish my story here so I can move on and write about other things. Funnier things hopefully. Things that will keep you coming back to my blog... because I like having you here.

I have written and rewritten and deleted and rewritten this post a hundred times- at least. I am finding it difficult to write anything else with this post hanging around in it's draft state. I have been over thinking this. I decided I had to take all the gory details of having an affair, going to marriage counseling, going to a shrink, separation, medication, moving back in with my parents, watching friends take sides, losing friendships, and losing my kids and all the things that came with divorce... and whittle it all down to what I really wanted to say. I had intended to write a story with lots of fancy verbiage and pretty $10 words. Now, however, it has mostly come down to a list of truths...

-I had an affair. It was morally wrong, and completely inexcusable, and I don't regret it. I'm not really sorry about the pain it caused my x. I'm just not. I am sorry that my older two sons get bounced between houses like ping pong balls. I am also sorry that I wasn't strong enough to fight for custody of them. I was scared of my x and believed his threats and manipulations. I gave up too soon and gave in for the sake of staying out of the court and dragging them through a relentless custody battle. It would have been nasty. That was a guarantee. He promised to rake me over the coals and I just wasn't strong enough to fight back. This is why... 10 years later... my older boys claim their father's house as primary residence. It hurt so much to give up. It hurt to admit that I was wrong. It hurt to essentially walk away. But I didn't really. I have been here whenever they need me. I have done my best to show them that they are loved and I have come to the conclusion that my boys are fairly happy well adjusted adolescents and I'm glad they didn't have to go through a nasty custody battle. I refused to allow them to be used as pawns or weapons, as was their father's intention in the beginning. They know they are loved by both of their parents. The petty fighting mostly ended a while ago. Now it's primarily a matter of what is best for the boys, and that is as it should be- don't you think??

-I would advise anyone and everyone to have some sort of bank account in your own name. Don't ever depend on another person completely for your financial security. Once my affair was discovered I was cut off. He closed accounts and cut up credit cards in front of me. It was scary, and humbling. And even though I'm a SAHM now, I have money tucked away in my own account. Sgt. Dad knows. It's no secret to him, and he's totally cool about it. Never ever be in that place.

-Blood is thicker than water. My family, my parents were there for me. They gave me shelter and supported me while I scrambled to find a job. I stayed with them for about a year and they never made me feel bad for it. As functionally dysfunctional as my family is, they were there for me when the shit hit the fan. I remember when the x would come pick the boys up from my parents' house... my dad would lock himself in the bathroom so he wouldn't be tempted to thrash the x. Love my 'John Wayne' dad.

-Water is thinner than blood. Disturbingly so. I might as well have worn a scarlet letter and been stoned by my so-called friends. Next to losing my boys, this was one of the hardest pills to swallow. These 'friends' made it obvious that they also felt betrayed by our actions. We were ostracized. People that I trusted were hateful and did hateful things. I was told I was no longer to be a part of a 'friend's' wedding because my actions had affected 'the group'. I was weighed, I was measured, I was judged, and I was found to be... well... Hester Prynne. Evil. Immoral. The phone stopped ringing, and after a while, I was okay with it. Your real friends? Your true friends? Those are the folks that stand next to you no matter what storm you're traveling through. No matter what transgressions you've made. They are there. I know who those people are now, and they are few, and I can not tell you how much I value them and love them. Subsequently, my trust... it's not easily earned. I just don't put myself out there anymore. It's not worth the pain.

-The man that I had this affair with? He's not perfect. But Sgt. Dad is my husband, and has been for the last 8 years. Our marriage is not perfect. We've made mistakes and had our fights... but I wouldn't trade him for all the world. I adore him still. I imagine I will adore him always. All through my separation and divorce and the loss of the folks we thought were our friends, we told each other... it's you and me babe... and here we are... it's still him and me... and our tiny brood.

Sure, I fight depression. I suffer from some seriously debilitating social anxiety. I have quite a bit of baggage that I haul around. I make mountains out of mole-holes. I second guess most of my decisions.   There's a whole corner of my brain dedicated to guilt. Another corner dedicated to anxiety over... well... you name it. But I love, and I am loved. I made a choice 9 years ago, and I firmly believe it was the best thing I have ever done in my life.

And that my loves.... is that. And now you know. Now I can move on to other things....

P.S. I must add this song that I have been playing over and over and over some more while I wrote this... If John Mayer and Dave Matthews had had a baby it would have been Phillip Phillips.... <3 nbsp="nbsp" p="p">

As always.... Thanks for reading my blog <3 nbsp="nbsp">