I’m half depressed and half angry tonight.
Tomorrow I go to have a consultation with an attorney. But all I can think of is if my husband hadn’t begun to lie to me I would not be “lawyering up” right now. I’d put it off.
I am so resentful that I have to sell the only pieces of gold jewelry I have left. I mean, this is just so wrong. During my association with him I lost everything I had: my home, savings, 401ks, and good credit rating. I have nothing now. NOTHING. And yet here I am selling the last nice things I own.
I don’t want to do it.
I don’t want to literally have to lose everything just to get rid of him.
And I don’t know if he’s in the States or not. I don’t know if he’s lying about having an appointment with an attorney in Portland on Friday. And he doesn’t know that I know he bought a car and a lot of other things.
I have a theory about the money he’s been spending. Just a theory, but it’s based on what I know about him and his spending habits.
His mother probably began to give him money (or loan it to him) based on the fact that he was certain to get a settlement in October. That didn’t happened, so I don’t know if she’ll keep the dough coming or not.
I know a lot of what he’s been buying. All purely frivolous stuff including the car that’s a spendy one to maintain. That’s how he was with me too. That’s how he got joy in his day to day life. He would never admit that it added up, no matter how I tried to show him. “Why do you need more ties?!” He looked at me as if to say, “If you have to ask you are not civilized.”
Do you know I used a credit card to buy a fucking Mercedes in London (one that ate gas like candy) for 3,500 pounds ($5,000) and when we went to trade it in nine months later before we came back here they bought it from us for 300 pounds. But no, he could not get a reasonable car. He had to be seen in a nice car with leather interior. It ended up being in the shop for weeks at a time mostly because we couldn’t pay to get it back.
Once we were in Central London with his daughters and one of them kept asking for stuff to eat and it was adding up and we were really broke and only going out to save our sanity. I felt resentful every time another five pounds was spent for her to have pizza or a waffle or an ice cream.
I said to him, outside of earshot of the girls, that I didn’t understand why we can’t tell them we’re on a budget. That we can’t say, “Girls, we will give you 5 pounds each to spend on whatever you want, but that’s it.”
He really blew up at me. Completely out of proportion. I was actually genuinely surprised he took that so hard. It mystified me.
He said that his girls wouldn’t want to spend time with us if we said we were on a budget.
I told him that the girls aren’t like that and if they were, whose fault would that be?
No getting through to him.
It’s an Iranian thing to never say no. Ever. To everyone, but especially your kids. Well, you don’t say ‘no’, but by your actions you express it. So if the girls asked for something instead of the truth, they got ridiculous lies and stalling techniques. It seemed so silly to me. But it definitely was a cultural thing. Children must feel spoiled.
His daughters would have to be deaf, dumb, and blind not to see that we barely had two cents to rub together. But we could never directly address that.
I’m sure his pride was mixed up in there too. His kids have lived with his mother for so long that they call her ‘mom.’ She’s been the only constant in their lives. He has never supported them.
But right now all their dad can think about is that he has a classic car, a twenty-something girlfriend, vintage sunglasses, and a future in America. That’s it. Why are narcissists so amazingly shortsighted?
He was lucky enough to simply push the delete button to make me disappear. He’s the luckiest man in the world.
I’m filled with such hatred for him right now. Do you know how much I love this ring? 18k with a huge tourmaline and some small diamonds. One of a kind, made locally. I won’t get enough for the whole retainer, so that even makes me feel worse about selling it. Fifty seven years old and can’t scrape up three grand. I am so ashamed.
I’m going to meet with the attorney and then decide about the jewelry. If he thinks something can be done to protect my future, then I’ll sacrifice one more thing.
I’m such an effing chump! I should have known he was only being decent with me before the trial because it was before the trial. He has no reason to be decent with me now.
I can’t get it through my thick skull that the man I fucked and lived with for eight years truly doesn’t care what becomes of me. It makes me so ashamed to think about what a true gentleman my last husband was.
I’m so tired of this shame and humiliation. I want to rid myself of it somehow. I’ve done enough penance and will continue to struggle as I figure out how to put my life together. When I think about my future I go into a complete panic and have to force myself to shove the thoughts aside. I have no future. I have no future love interest. I am in utter despair.
I emailed the priest at the church I went to on Sunday and asked to meet with him. I need to belong. I need to find hope. I need an emotional net.
I don’t think I’ll ever get over that I was intimate with a man who has no regard whatsoever for me. I had heard people like him existed, but never knew one up close and personal before.
How I wish I hadn’t.