This too , shall pass

Femme Hopefull is still on vacation

2010-10-27T12:49:00.000-07:00

There are things that strengthen us over time. Hardened by the knocks of real life. Many are unavoidable , but some...yes they can be avoided.
How ? my mind has pondered this question over and over again over the past two months. How would I have known. Was I too busy to notice?

Did I simply trust to completely? This answer comes close to a first option. Not out of a toss-up but simply truth. I trusted. With every fibre of my being. That I would be loved wholly and solely , for life.. Just as I loved absolutely without a shadow of a doubt never to even consider or allow my mind to stray.
I was utterly convinced the feelings were mutual.

And now , what now? How does one make sense of such a prolonged period of betrayal? I had no clue. I knew we had problems. But I knew they could be resolved. But if I am completely honest , I felt the betrayal before this women entered centre stage in my husband's life. What were those signs? The unwillingness to forgive my past and mistakes. A constant irritation with our children. An annoyance with our lifestyle. His need to "get away", His frequent evenings at his friend's house...tThe complete disregard for my load as a mother and business partner, unwilling to share the load. Selfishness , a need to assert himself in simple situations. He was irritated all right , very much so. And he wanted to talk to someone else. He wanted to vent his utter unhappiness to her. And she listened. And he loved her sensible answers...hooked line and sinker.

Understanding the circumstances that led him to this does not diminish my pain. Dissapointment and shock may pass , but paid and betrayal does not. Faith in my life partner does not just restore itself.

As I embarked on a healing process I was frequently berated for my inability to perform sexually. He wanted to show me he loved me. I was having nightmares. Not a night has gone by where I have not been shaken awake in horror of the memories. I am fighting and praying and wanted so dearly to allow God to heal us in this situation.
Then my neck hairs once again rose and I new I had lost him again. He was besotted once again, this time by guilt of what he had bough upon her. Her finances. Guilt riddled him and bought out a second round of betrayal and lies. He spent hours pouring over every possible detail of her life and her home. He went to extreme lengths to find information on her wellbeing.

Our marital healing process was abruptly pulled away and pushed back into a web of lies and deceit. He claimed back his love poems to her.

Where does this leave our marriage? I say what marriage. Where do we start? On what level or platform?Trust is earned , not a given like it was for 15 years. My saving grace is the Lord , without whom I would not have stayed in this home until know. At times my depression has been so dark that I have had trouble finding meaning to eat or wake up. In these dark hours is was only my Father that held me together....Showing me a way and actually making a way for me. I have cried forgive them more times than what I can count. And it has gotten easier and I forgive them as I type here. Bless them and do not curse them. I bless them abundantly! And my heart hopes for nothing more than my husband's freedom form the clutches of this controlling spirit.

However , am I the one to "control"and direct his release from this by fighting , shouting , losing the plot and berating him for his actions? NO , no.....this is not my job but God's and I pray God will slap Him real hard! yes Lord , I repent right here and now for that. This is for YOU and HIM and not for ME and the KIDS. All glory to you... Amen...

I know and He knows my number of coping is up. I am no longer required to put up with daily betrayal. I know now I am not bad for not coping. I am a woman of God and I celebrate my womaness and the beauty God has given a woman. Our need for unconditional , whole love of a husband is not wrong. This is a quality He gave us.

I don't know where I will end up. But this I do know. My children and I will be safe in His arms , no matter what. And my Husband will be fine , wherever he goes. The difference now is , it's not my problem or my responsibility any more. His actions are his own choices , as are mine.
And my choice is LIFE , life without feeling this way.

Governments , Spies and the 5th column

2010-10-26T23:56:00.000-07:00

As that cliche goes , all good things must come to an end.....
So it was without much fanfare that my cowgirl had to be laid to rest. She no longer found comfort in the half-jack in her saddle and revolted against riding under the moon's shadow. Clouds were hanging week in and week out so she dusted her boots off and hung them up for good.

Enter the International Spy..... "Femme Fightwell". She would be swift , relentless in her pursuit of truth and stealth like an African Lion. She would research her target with passion and her execution with precison. She was a lone spy but not without guts or faith.

Essential tools for Femme Fightwell
1- Gather spy tools
2- Be courageous
3- Don't let love sway you

Gathering spy tools:
With no team behind her to guide her steps , she scrounged around for tried and tested tools. Researched the "undercover-worthiness", the performance and risk.. Bingo! , she grabbed the tools offered and ignored their disclaimer "we take no responsibility for what you find"
However with courage and prayer she took her chances and hoped than a fortnight would yield the truth she so desperately seeked. That her tools would not run out before her much needed evidence would jump at her face. Like a jittering novice spy she executed her plan. She waited for her target to show its ways....

Be courageous:

The pain of her recent stint as a cowgirl had admittedly burned her ass and she battled time and time again to keep her cool so as not to blow her cover. The courage would derail her and threaten to keep her at peak performance. Not having executed such a complicated assignment before , together with it being her maiden voyage , it would later become obvious that far more training was neccesary to achieve success.

Don't let love sway you:
This rule was undervalued. Love derails all. It has the ability to overthrow goverments , businessess and sound judgement. She could no longer keep to her loyalty to the "group". The government won, the institution that had kept them together. The safety of the rules of engagement. So it was with drama worthy only of a day time soap opera that she blew her cover after only a few days. The information was heart wrenching.

The building was damaged but still stood ready for repairs

With information in hand and blinding anger at the misjustice done unto her , she attacked her target in a mess of pain and desperation. Unable to contain her sound judgement she forgot her ammunition of reason and calm. Rockets were launched and hit the wrong target. As the trigger was pulled it exploded in her own hand. Glass shattered and tremors were felt. Innocent bystanders were hurt. Even the target saw the weakness and denied all evidenc put before him. It was war gone wrong , poorly panned and atacked pematurely.

Her cover was blown. Her "grace period" had expired.This "would be

spy" has learnt you cannot be a proper spy if you are in love with your target. Love weakens even the most qualified professional. The safety of time was no longer her ally. Picking up the pieces of what was NOT was an arderous task , made more painful by the realization that she could not change the outcome , even by her small knowledge of the facts.

NO MORE DUCKING AND DIVING

The time had come again , as with cowgirl ,time to hang up those boots.

Epilogue
Enter "Femme Hopewell"
Next column: The 5th column is tackled minus the tools of engagement

Why Isn't Forever Easy: Emotional Affair vs. Friendship

2010-10-06T13:40:00.000-07:00

Why Isn't Forever Easy: Emotional Affair vs. Friendship

A beautiful blouse

2010-10-05T23:15:00.000-07:00

The cool thing about losing weight is the fact that you can now buy pretty little nothings to fit your new shaped booty and bust. So it was new jeans and tops.

I am not a blouse kinda cowgirl , but this one caught my eye. 3/4 sleeves , in my fav black and white pinstripe but with a glam factor lurex silver thread woven it. It caught my eye , fit my bust and looked nice with the new jeans.

Amidst snuggly rainy weather in the throes of Spring , I decided it was a worthy day to shine in my blouse again. It has that "I feel good today" look about it. I had a morning of beautiful quiet time behind me and a long foam bath to boot! As I buttoned it up , a dread came over me. Memories came flooding back.....

It was a great day 2 months ago. I arrived sparkly for work and my trusted muse and friend had taken allot of time to comment on my appearance of late. Not one to enjoy flattery I succumbed and thanked her. For a change , allowed the conversation to flow about how nice it was to look good and change styles. We chatted hairstyles and confidence. I had the stamp of approval , it felt good. She always had that way to make one feel great.

Back to present unpleasant. I fought with this blouse from the moment I started faffing with the now imperfect sleeves. they are too short , I can't bend my elbows in it. It's too wide in the waist. It's hanging over my jeans. I look silly and I am very uncomfortable. I hate it!!! I can't stand wearing this stupid blouse that provoked such false compliments. Such attempts that seeked to flatter me in the midst of deception. The blouse that couldn't nearly beat the fugly dress , extra length jeans for the perfect size 34 , the tops and shoes. Forget the decor items and car services , new tyres to keep the Bluff girl safe on the road. The car service that made her purr like a kitten on the second hand couch that was expressly delivered to the damsel in distress. The damsel and friend who allowed my husband's obsessive affections run rampant.

"For I will surely deliver you

and you will not fall by the sword,

but your life will be as a reward

of battle to you,

because you have put your trust in me,

says the Lord"
Jeremiah 39: 18

Ok puppy dogs , this is MY blouse , woman , you will NOT ruin my blouse. I take possession of every pleasant thought this blouse has provoked in me. It's mine , go away!

I stop , pause and breathe again..
Do I really want a crap day because of this *&ˆ%^blouse?

I shriek , (insert expletive here) , rip it off and throw as much distance as the now hated lurex weightlessness will allow it. It's not far enough , I pick it up and throw it further. It lands on husband humanoid's side of the bed. I look fiercely left and right for him. He is outside , I leave it there. I hesitate , don't want him to think I am being purposeful. He has not heard my mental rant in my bathroom.

I carry on with my "making pretty for the day's moment"while he dashes for the bathroom in between kids shrieks and gates that are jammed. I will polish my shoes. Wax 'em to shine better than that lurex thread can shine!!! My mental state here get's a cross check.

Pause girl , calm in them shiny shoes. Who cares about that tarty blouse. This blouse is fast losing rankings in my coveted new wardrobe. It stinks , but hey , it cost money. I reach for it and fold it neatly. Back to wardrobe or throw it again. It burns my hands. Without much thought , I hand it to my husband who looks puzzled yet afraid. Be afraid , be very afraid you...you....you... I forgive you , I forgive you 1 million times.
"Take this blouse husband humanoid , and give it to some poor person or anyone who might need it more than me"Silence follows. Can he read my mind? I don't know. But he knows not to ask.

I call on Him , I ask for forgiveness for my rant. I forgive them both. I don't feel forgiveness so I say , Lord , I forgive them over and over and over again.

The blouse has made an exit......

A new platform

2010-09-25T06:22:00.000-07:00

At last!! There is a platform...a space , a summit reached , call it what may..but it feels peaceful.

"There is no hope of peace without a willingness to humble ourselves"- Joyce Meyer from her book "Conflict-free living

So , why do "these things"happen to us when we quite rightly don't' deserve them? My oft used statement is that is was tuff and bad and I made it...but quite frankly I would much rather be suntanning in the Bahamas. Now since I ain't anywhere near the Bahamas and lacking the dough to do so...reality is this. You gotta deal with it , head on baby shoes! Did I want to? Hell no. Did it feel great , NO. But here I am , able to sit and write without bitterness. Why? Well because somewhere in all of this , with the little strength I had left , I said a single word...

Jesus

He did not come with force or noise , He came gently and nudged me to myself , and away from the offenders. Told me to stop praying "about then" but rather "for them". He further guided my time to read scriptures and literature that I did at times find hard to swallow. I read to get over an offence , it would be best not to spend time with offended people but with stronger people. At times , when a God filled human counseled me , I would respond with disgust and "You don't have any clue what this feels like!!!

Pride

But He never gave up on me. A friend told me , I love you, but God is crazy about you.

I am learning to let go of pride. Pride is what tells me "I didn't deserve this". Pride tells me , I am better than "them". Pride tried to tell me I had to get my message accross to them. Ouch , I didn't like it one bit being smacked over the head about my own issues. Ha Ha , hello Pride!

I continue to learn and choose life. I continue to be vigilant about the true offender. That angel that thought he was better than God and got his butt fried. (What have we here? Pride? )

Its not dem humans that cause us to suffer , it's that stinky devil. He has been trying real hard but He didn't bargain on God. The power and the might.

Life

I continue to walk on grace. I cannot say I will not falter and perhaps trouble or entertain the reader , but I am not giving up on Life , His way , not my way or the highway.

Famously Keeping doors closed

2010-09-20T11:54:00.000-07:00

"Let those who think I have said too little and those who think I have said too much, forgive me; and let those who think I have said just enough thank God with me." - Saint Augustine
An encouraging thought. I love quotes by both famous and ordinary people. They have a way of just capturing a moment in all its famous and infamous glory. So , yes , thank God with me for all the things I have not said. Because , not only do words have the power to hurt , but also heal. When they hurt , they can also destroy lives. Other times words can be a timely warning so others do not suffer the same hurt at a bad person's hand.
Bad people come in many shapes and forms. The obvious bad person is easy to spot. It's the crafty one that does not even know their "badness"we have to be vigilant against. Aha , here's time for another quote.
"Be wary of the gentle manipulator , it rarely shows its true intentions" - Wounded Cowgirl August 2010
I have always been a smart chick. I study people , I know their mojo even before they know their own. I rarely make a mistake. So , it is with great distress and self annoyance that I could not spot a Crafty one. Where was my weakness? This is a question I have struggled with for a few weeks. Unable to identify the facts through my heartbroken state , I could not understand why a trusted friend would hurt me so much ,willfully , yet ignorantly. It was only when I decided to forgive the offender that I could truthfully reflect within.
It sent my mind back to a date early this year when I was accused of not appreciating all that I had and scorned for
throwing it all away. Oh horror of horrors , I simply had to set the record straight! What was this? It was ........

a) Offence taken BEEG MISTAKE!!

b) Retaliation

c) A need to justify and explain myself

I should have not taken offence and followed Leonardo's advice in the movie , The Beach

"Richard: No offence an' all, but, you're %@ ed in the head, right? 

So , zeees leedle spider pulled me into her den. I confided , trusted and broke my own rules. Letting an employee into my private life. I asked her for advice , confided. Again , horror of horrors. What was this cowgirl thinking. She broke her cardinal rule! The disastrous situation was before her. She was accused , and retaliate she had to. Retaliate to near death dear wench! The mind controlled the mouth , they keyboard. Such foolishness!
"Retaliation is a mug's game." P. Clark

This realization has put the Cowgirl on a decided course of new found wisdom. Identifying her weaknesses and learning from them. No longer thinking she was a smart chick , but rather a soldier who will learn from his previous battles. A soldier who will not be afraid to take the saddle again and continue the good fight of faith.

Flee , run for your life!

There will be no bitterness, there will be no more regret. Instead there will be grace in accepting nobody knows everything about life all the time. But , the gut within will be followed.

It may look right , smell right and even walk right , but if you have a feeling you need to defend yourself against ridiculous accusations , WALK AWAY , FLEE! Close ranks on that which is dear to you. Protect yourself , your husband and family. Speak up. Pray , spend time with the Lord.Do not let weakness in your circumstance make you abandon those rules that have stood you in good stead all your life. Let the light guide you.

"Never ever feel the need to retaliate against offence taken , it may cost you your life" -Cowgirl from Africa

We cannot erase our past , but we can accept it as history - The Five languages of Love by Gary Chapman.

Closing Doors

2010-09-18T02:41:00.000-07:00

Been slamming them hard for a while now. Decided actions of putting the past where it belongs , in the past. The problem with closing doors is that very often there is an object stopping full closure. So , my attempts to close have been hampered by these little critters. Little critters become Elephants when you want to close a door. And before you know it , there is an Elephant in the room.

But then , "it"was there all the time. So , now we have to work our way either around it or face it head on. And " head on we have , uncomfortable truths. My version , her version , his version.

Back to closing doors. Die to yourself his scripture says. God says to forgive so we can release those who have hurt us. Our carnal minds want to make right what was wrong. We want to make sense and challenge the offenders.

We lash out when they are unrepentant. We sin in our anger. We get to a point of throwing up one too many times shows us we cannot handle this monster by ourselves. But having known God well and spending hours of my life arguing , praying and celebrating , I DO know the truth does not lie in the heart , but the spirit. We fight not against flesh and blood , but principalities and evil. Our offenders who are blind to the control of evil will not be released to healing from above until we do not release them in our minds. God wants to work miracles and release all His children.

Forgiveness is liberating

And since I have known and tasted his awesome love , who am I to deny Him the right to heal whom He chooses to heal. I want to do His job , but seriously , He has the tools! So , my decisions have been made. I have identified the control. I relinquish by choice and wisdom the spirit that attempted to wreck havoc over our entire lives , our business , our marriages and our self esteem.

I release you woman , I release you into His care. May God have mercy over your soul. We serve a great God , able to heal and restore even into the most divided spirit. I forgive. I do.

I breathe , I breathe. I have hope. I am not a victim but an over comer.

Finders not keepers

2010-09-17T05:08:00.000-07:00

When these humans find this blog they blow their lids. When it is me that directed them I clearly am either...

a)wanting someone to care
b) wanting those offenders see what they have done

My Team went wonky on me

c) not giving a stuff
d) sharing being human and wanting to encourage the reader as the journey improves

In my very jaded opinion , it is all four , depending on who sees this. An offender today told me I was emo and allowing evil to guide me. Tut tut.
Me tinks it's the pot calling the kettle black. While I know very well my rantings are one sided and nobody has the opportunity to defend themselves , I also know it is true and real what a cheated woman feels. And what we plot and digest is ugly. It sucks. But we get even , we get over it , we cry , we rant and we behave badly. And the offenders can't stomach it. A very uncomfortable truth.

Listen up puppy dogs , when I get over this , I am better , repentant and sorry I went "awol on my mind. But the offender that points fingers at the mourning process would like to tell you your mourning mojo is wrong. What is wrong with this picture? They sleep well at night , they substantiate their every action. They flatter you , they flatter themselves. They insult , belittle , make more false accusations. So , the victim's brand of mourning just doesn't fit into their profile of the strong woman.... The stupid wench who sat and didn't know how funds were illicitly channeled to the damsel in distress who meant no harm? I say go to your own special dark spot and feel better as much as you like. Whatever it takes , couldn't be bothered.

SO , I cook up a storm and realize life is worth more than arguing with the past. Dips , crumbs and all manner of loveliness. This will work , leave the past and move forward. Repent for my sins, my badness and anger. My hate. I will not hold onto this , this too shall pass. I may never be able to make rights for my venomous rantings but peace shall be found. Closing the doors on humans of ill repute. Forget , cut the ties. It's over. Forgive but not bond. Live and laugh.

Hairy matters

2010-09-15T12:51:00.000-07:00

Never took much notice of my hair till I had a good smack of chemo. The chunks that came off unexpectedly.

I recall chatting to my neighbor in the supermarket , and as us chicks do , brushed my hand through my hair after a weary day at work. Oops , a bunch of hair came with it. Not knowing what to do with it and utterly embaressed , I shoved it in my pants pocket. You see , I had just finished telling him how well I was coping on chemo.

Here I was standing , cherry red. Was it not for his typical male ignorance and continued banter , he sure as heck would have seen that bunch of hair , roughly the size of a small packet of peanuts.

This was a significant day for me. I was coping , I was doing well...but the hair!! Darn darn. *&ˆ% There goes my whole mojo...

From here onwards , I developed quite a relationship with my now dwindling crown. In the shower as I washed , It would come off like a horrible "glue gone bad hairpiece. It was humbling. It was heart wrenching. Not for reasons of vanity but more the fact that my body was not behaving the way I wanted it to. And behave I wanted it to!! The drugs , the needles , the ashen face , the collapsed veins and sharing my time with those who were shortly to embark on their dirt nap. This was a culmination of the reality for me and I did not like it one bit. At least I had my make up , clothes , you know all that crap that makes us feel special.

The funny thing about chemo is that it is supposed to heal you , make you better. But hello , you look like hell and you have no hair on your head , eyebrows or private parts. While the latter would make men quiver with glee , it was not my idea of a kinky thing. Back to the "supposed to getting better part... So you step out in your sporty hats and browless wonder and people stop you and say "Oh my God you look ill , shame"or messages get around to you "Did you see how awful she looks? Shame man , must be nearing the end"Hell noooooooooooooo!!! Is it only me but I am NOT fucking dying people.

I am so NOT departing nowhere!

Speaking of dying , such a topical issue for those with little green monsters growing in their titties. After the "samurai chop"aka "we take your tit for good mam", I decided to be seriously healthy and eat well. So inspired was I that I decided to give my very overweight husband humanoid a speech in diet. Such was my enthusiasm and lack of empathy for him that he felt he was in a dead end corner and the only way out after a 10 minute tongue lashing was to exclaim "I am not the one dying here"!! Ok then , this was * it* for me , was I the only one who thought I wouldn't die from this? Bastards , the whole lot I said. This fucking disease is not killing me and just stay the hell away from me.

Back to the hair. Why does it always have to come back to the hair? It does , from the CFC cocktail chemo combo to the MFing husband human who got itchy feet/ fubar brain this year. My hair is falling out again. Lots , every day. On my percale cushion covers , my lovely Victorian enamel restored bath. It's coming out again baby. Once again that feeling overwhelmes me. My body is not behaving the way I want it to. I don't like it , I want to be in control but I am not. It pisses me off no end. I want to squirt Vigra hair juice in his fucking face along with Gromor hair tablets planted firmly in his asshole for every bit of shit he has given me. Instead I dash out and look for something good , some vitamin or some brain helping mojo to get my body out of "strain mode". It's stress and my failing body is making my hair go apeshit again. I google , I feel better.
http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/mining-the-headlines/200807/her-crowning-glory-when-women-lose-their-hair

Pause , wait. This is up to me. I need to get better. Sleep , rest. I consider downing a few shots of neat whisky aka Cowboy style , all lined up on my pretty vanity before bedtime. That should stop those Nightmare on Elm street dreams in their evil bleddie tracks. I pause again , no no , don't start drinking again you stupid wench. keep it together. Just suck on one light goblet of seriously reduced calorie wine and "look glam"while you are at it. Great , it goes down well. I ponder and sit down to write this stupid blog for Lord alone knows who. To make sense, to get it out. Aaah , that feels better. I plan to sleep tonight , and get some botox for my scalp so the glands can tighten up in their tracks.

As for the husband humanoid , he is off the hook for one night. Got some guilt gifts passed on. Lovely and all smelly to spray around the cheeks tomorrow. Tonight no nightmares , no visuals , no wicked thoughts of revenge. They can all go *&%# themselves.
What matters now is to save the hair!!!! If not I shall be riding off into the sunset on my filly.

Illicit lunches and more lies

2010-09-13T11:21:00.000-07:00

Working at it....not!!

Ouch this weekend a friend told me the man human was in turmoil knowing he could not be with the Jezebel as we now refer to her if he didn't leave me. "Charges"against me were made to appear enormously despicable. Ammo , conscience cleared for the slick two operators. I gnash my teeth.

She "granted"him three questions. Like the Fairy Godmother .One was ... "Are you my soul mate?"She smiled gently and said "Yes , maybe" She later tells me her idea of a soul mate and his idea differed greatly. I quote "as a friend" Hell when last did my soul jell with a man human and my knickers didnt somewhat knot!

When they left after an impromptu lunch she was nervous and said she was afraid of being "seen"with him.
This lunch seemed like a turning point. She says it was a quick bite, he says he lost his mind here. She said it lasted 15 minutes , he says it was much more. She shared her life with him , he spoke of his feelings for her. She denies it. Truth versus fact , only the two of them will ever now. As for me I am singing that song " And I wonder , how many...... She spoke freely while I was out the office , threatened she would tell me everything if I found out. Hear the crickets in the night...tick tick , I am waiting......

But I wonder like an intelligent chick gone worried bout her mental capacity , why did she not firmly tell him NO NO NO. She comforted him , tried to be a friend , shared provocative poetry with him. Bad Bad girl! She met up with him to buy her an animal skin. She loved having her car serviced and smiled in thanks. When he declared his love to her , she replied with a gentle smile and said that she knew. But never confirmed her feelings , leaving him on a limb , and wanting more. Like a toy she dangled his broken heart. Now mine. Aligning herself to those in authority. The indispensable one.
And he lied to me , repeatedly. I knew he was having an emotional affair and confronted him several times. A cowgirl just knows.

Sometime today I collapse in a heap of shock. I don't feel like lifting my head up. Pitifull wench!Then I start plotting all manners of revenge. I get excited but also sick in my stomach as the Lord reminds me it is HIS to avenge. I switch the TV on and watch interesting medical things. I think I should be grateful my kidneys work and I am alive. Never mind this mess.
I think of the word in capitals ..MARRIAGE, did they not think there is a wife , a mother and a woman to consider? That there might be a special place in hell kept warm for them? I feel guilty for that. I half repent , more later. He says again "It is mine to avenge". Yes Lord. ok. But Lord!! But But But..ok , I relent , let it go. Don't fight evil with evil... Gnashing those teeth again.

I want to forgive but I battle. I cannot begin the comprehend how people I shared so much with could take my rights and dignity and kick it. Not once , not twice , but repeatedly over a year. Yuck bad people , bad bad people for breaking my spunky heart. Hell I don't trust at whim , but decided this girl could be trusted. Shock and horror , humans do evil stuff. get a grip chick , get over it. It happens ...yikes it does!! Blech

I think that I am tough, but they have successfully achieved what no human has before. Crushed me , bought me to my knees. I am battered and bent , washed up cowgirl. Lost a couple of teeth from the gnashing. Need a new make up kit. Where are MY gifts you bastard husband humanoid? Pay , get poor , retribution you terrible bad word to be inserted here! No caps , she told me not to use caps on her and I considered obliging....

Pause , breathe , ......................I revert to homework and children time. They need me to stay sane. I need me to stay sane. I need to get mojo back. I love cooking , lemme yank the head recipe book out. The ass loves my cooking. Can my cooking possibly compare to the dream of the perfect carefree Bluff bad girl with the insatiable smile? Oh bugger than. I'd rather find my handguns. Ok Lord , Ok , I hear ya on the revenge stuff. But at least while I am cooking I can sharpen my knives , eh?

Now that sounds like a plan...........................................

another day

2010-09-13T01:10:00.000-07:00

Work to go to. Reality in the sadness. A savior of sorts. Show face. Be brave. I'm late. Make it work. Learn to dress , eat and be a mother again. Look for reasons why the man trouble should not impede on these basic human responsibilities we have. It sucks me in and lets me go. I choose to go. It's Monday.

Sanity in the Insanity

2010-09-12T13:18:00.000-07:00

The insanity within is chasing my mind in places like these. I have not lost faith and believe getting it all off my chest will indeed bring forth healing. It is late , I should be sleeping. But the moment my head hits the pillow, I either start arguing with God or my thoughts race about my husband and what he has done to us. Why should he stay? The pain feels unbearable at times. I feel like a statistic. Our has been a match not without conflict , but a match made in heaven on earth.

Friendship and a kindred spirit has been our glue that has seen us through. My Rock , my soul mate..... who has hurt me and deceived me He fell in love with my "right hand"lady and she sucked him into her den. Bastard , and bad bad person this woman. Never agreeing but always holding him there. Poison with the one hand and sweeties with the other. She gave him clarity and an ear to hear when he had his midlife crisis. A sensible friend. And here started a year of games and lies, all within one meter from my desk. Skypes , private mailboxes , a lunch stolen.... Bad bad girl , bad bad boy.

Until I caught them. Three weeks later he is begging me. I don't believe he should be begging , he should be mourning her "loss". She ran away and couldn't face me. Writes to me and calls and assure me she was never keen. In fact she hated it. She hated it so much she made him promise never to tell me. The gifts , the lies and deception have cut through my chest like a giant cleaver. I am in agony. It hurts so severely at times I literally jump up and start running. I look in his eyes and he is disarmed , desperate and yet so helpless to comfort me.

I argue with myself , God and him. Why would I want to live with a man who I trusted with every fibre of my being? The Jezebel fooled him. I don't care that I understand why he got hooked.

I sigh , I drop my eyes and I think it must be time to try and sleep.
I hear his steps on the staircase..snaps me out of my writing brain. The night will be long. Lord help me have peace and clarity. Help me forgive even though I just don't know how to. Show me how to move forward and hear your voice.