You’ve Got Time

I’ve been binge watching “Orange Is The New Black”…

I have a young friend that started watching with me, and we pile on the couch, after changing into sweats and t-shirts. I like it.

Is it graphic? Yep… Is it realistic? Probably not… But it does have an awesome theme song, and often times lessons to be learned.

I think it hit me when I realized the similarities of prison and life after an affair.

You are in a prison after you find out about an affair. Your fairy tale is over, your life before discovery is over, and you are starting over. You start over in a really shitty place too.

You are trapped between loving your spouse/family, and wanting to escape it. To dig a tunnel and run away to Mexico, Canada, hell anywhere but where you are.

You are infamous in your small town. Everyone is talking and staring…or at least it feels like it. You feel like you aren’t good enough for the polite society, and like you just don’t fit in.

You find a gang to hang out with in prison. They are divided into the ‘divorcees’ who hate all cheaters, the just ‘move on and pretend it didn’t happen’ crowd who can’t even begin to accept their new life, and then my crowd…we face it, head on, and try to salvage our marriage ‘crazy enough to try’ crowd. None of us hate the others (at least I don’t) nor do we hang out, because it’s painful. We ‘crazy and trying’ see the ‘divorcees’ moving on and doing what we all said we would if we caught our spouse cheating, and it makes us question our sanity. The ‘divorcees’ see the ‘crazy and trying’ as slightly pathetic, kind of brave, and are maybe a little envious of us salvaging our families. As for the ‘pretend’ crowd? They want to pretend neither of the others exist, because it reminds them what they are trying to forget. In the end? We are all probably crazy, slightly bitter, and just damaged.

The worst part of being in prison? Standing still…infidelity makes you stand still for way too long. You have to stand there in the mess of your life, in unbelievable pain, and decide. Decide, do I stay or go? Do I love or let go? Do I tell or stay silent? Do I try or burn the mother fucker to the ground? What do I do?

I can’t tell you, wish I could…

I can tell you that if you do your time, and deal? At some point you get out of prison. You get to start a new life.

And you will move forward.

I have.

I won’t ever forget the choices.

I won’t forget the pain.

I won’t forget the voices.

I won’t ever forget the people I’ve met.

the stories,

the questions,

the friendships,

the lessons.

I will take them with me when I get out.

And I will never, ever, as ‘crazy eyes’ as my witness, come back here.

“The animals, the animals

Trapped, trapped, trapped ’till the cage is full
The cage is full
Stay awake
In the dark, count mistakes
The light was off but now it’s on
Searching in the ground for a bitter song
The sun is out, the day is new
And everyone is waiting, waiting on you
And you’ve got time
And you’ve got time

Think of all the roads
Think of all their crossings
Taking steps is easy
Standing still is hard
Remember all their faces
Remember all their voices
Everything is different
The second time around

The animals, the animals
Trapped, trapped, trapped ’till the cage is full
The cage is full
Stay awake
In the dark, count mistakes
The light was off but now it’s on
Searching in the ground for a bitter song
The sun is out, the day is new
And everyone is waiting, waiting on you
And you’ve got time
And you’ve got time
And you’ve got time”

-Regina Spektor-

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Jordan’s Sugar Cookies

One of my favorite things to bake? Sugar cookies.

I love a good sugar cookie. But I am a sugar cookie snob, they can’t be crunchy and crumble…they can’t be gritty…they have to be a light and fluffy, moist and soft, melt in your mouth, don’t even need frosting…that good of a sugar cookie.

The first time I made these for my son’s best friend’s wife? She took a bite, her eyes lit up and she said ” Oh my God, these are so good!!”, I smiled and nodded, because they are.

Sugar Cookies

1 c. butter                                       4 c. flour

1 c. granulated sugar                    2 tsp. cream of tartar

1/2 c. powdered sugar                  1 tsp. soda

3 eggs                                               1/2 tsp. salt

1 tsp. vanilla

Pre heat oven to 375.

Cream butter. Add sugar gradually, creaming until light and fluffy. Add eggs, one at a time, beating after each addition. Stir in vanilla. Whisk or sift together dry ingredients in a different bowel, then gradually add to the creamed mixture. Chill the dough for 3-4 hours. On a well floured surface, roll out dough to around 1/2 thick, cut out shapes. Bake on an ungreased cookie sheet for 6-8 minutes.

You can frost them when they cool. They are great with a butter cream frosting and decorated at Christmas. If it’s summer you could make a lemon frosting, yum.

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Big Girls Don’t Cry

Should an affair change you?

I know…”What the fuck you talking about Kelly? Of course affairs change you? Are you serious? Is this crazy Kelly at the computer?”

Give me a second to explain my question…

I know affairs change us, the betrayed. They make us trust less, cry more, paranoid, depressed, sad, crazy, and we are broken people. But should they change us?

First month after I found out about the affair? I was looking about getting a boob job, and possibly a tummy tuck. I saw myself in the mirror and could only see my faults, the imperfect things and fixate on them. I was flat chested and had some sag to my flat stomach caused by giving birth to four kids, one of which wasn’t even potty trained. But I was completely off my rocker and just knew this was why my husband had cheated.

Truth was… I was aware the whore was also flat chested, and didn’t have a mere sag to her belly when she leaned over but a whole skin apron to her waist. She wasn’t thinner or had great boobs, instead was way saggier and…well just nasty. So it wasn’t because I was fat or flat, it had nothing to do with my appearance, and yet I considered plastic surgery for a month, because I felt I needed to change.

I wondered in the beginning if it was because I was a nag, if it was because I hassled him to do honey do’s. I decided I would never, ever ask him to help me…with anything. I know, how healthy is that Kelly? To live in a world/marriage where you do everything yourself? I figured if I fixed myself and made myself stronger then I would be a better wife.

I, Kelly, who was already taking care of cattle, pigs, kids, household chores, cooking, cleaning, hauling feed, cleaning pens, delivering pigs by myself, putting in walkways, patios, fire pits, koi ponds, planting trees, painting houses, sanding porches, and rebuilding pens…was now going to repair appliances and figure out how to weld, cuz I would never ask for help again.

Truth was… I was well aware that the whore was a woman who liked to play the damsel in distress…she liked to claim her ex-husband was abusive, she was taken advantage of by men, she needed help moving, help with a fire pit, help with a bear on her porch, help with her girls, she needed she needed she needed…but I was afraid of seeming naggy for asking him to look at a garbage disposal that I couldn’t figure out how to fix or change out.

I was afraid, I was too opinionated, too set in my ways, I needed to be more fun. I was going to agree with him more, stop arguing, stop telling him he was doing things wrong and just smile and agree. I was going to stop being Kelly, and start being a ‘yes’ wife.

Truth was… I knew the whore was demanding and a bitch, but I thought I needed to hide the fact that I was smart, I was a problem solver, and by golly I was right a lot. I was going to dumb myself down to make him happy.

The first couple months after finding out about the affair, all I could do was think about things that I might need to change. I could only compare myself to this image of who the whore must be vs who I was. The truth was she wasn’t near the person I was, inside or out, and that it was never a real competition. Even on my worst days? I was better. But in the crazy that followed the affair, I tore myself apart, looking for reasons why he had cheated, why he had chose her.

The only time I was truly pathetic? Was when I was going to change me, to make him happy. Funny thing was? The parts I was going to change are what makes him happy…I am a strong person who rarely asks for help, with anything, so when I did it made him feel needed. I am a smart person who likes to challenge him, and gives him advice or a listening ear, he doesn’t want a ‘yes man’, he wants a partner. And the sag to my belly? It comes from having his children, and being so little that my skin stretched. As for my small chest? I am okay with it, always have been, and to get implants because my husband slept with a whore? It makes me feel like a whore, like I need attention, like I wasn’t born enough…and I was enough.

I was enough…it was his issues, her issues, it wasn’t mine. I was always here, living a real life, an honest one, as a good person. The truth was I wasn’t the one who needed changing, who was broken and needed fixing, I was good enough as I was.

I know I have changed…but I’m so glad I didn’t change too. I am so glad that in the madness which followed I was sane enough to have an inner voice that spoke the truth.

I hope whatever stage you are at? You listen to yours too…

“I hope you know, I hope you know
That this has nothing to do with you
It’s personal, myself and I
We’ve got some straightenin’ out to do
And I’m gonna miss you like a child misses their blanket
But I’ve got to get a move on with my life
It’s time to be a big girl now
And big girls don’t cry
Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry

The path that I’m walking, I must go alone
I must take the baby steps till I’m full grown, full grown.
Fairytales don’t always have a happy ending, do they?
And I forsee the dark ahead if I stay”

-Fergie

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Learning to Live Again

I have the summer off…

Best part of my new job? The kids.

But a close second? Summers off…

On my agenda this summer? To write more.

I was teased the other day about not writing as much, that this person was glad I was doing better, healing, but it sucked because I wasn’t writing as much.

I still can feel the need to write, I hear the voices, I get sad…but I can usually deal without needing to purge…to throw it all up on a page and exorcise my demons.

So all better Kelly?” asks my poor abused and tired inner psychologist Bob.

Not perfect but I am good,” I reply keeping an eye on Crazy Kelly and Angry Kelly sitting on the couch beside me.

“Good?” Crazy Kelly narrows her eyes at me,” So you don’t feel the urge to throat punch a certain whore?”

Angry Kelly chuckles,”Good? So you don’t ever want to CanCan dance on ‘someone’s’ head?”

A sob comes from behind the couch and I slowly turn to see Sad Kelly laying in the fetal position on the floor.

“Good? So you don’t cry anymore?” Asks Sad Kelly.

I turn back to Bob, ” Good, as in healing. I still get angry, I still cry, and I am probably always going to be crazy…but it doesn’t control me anymore. It doesn’t define me anymore. I am Good.”

I am not perfect…

If we’re being honest? I never was.

I will always have triggers….

They just don’t bring me to my knees anymore.

I still hate the whore…

But Lord knows I’m not the only member of her fan club.

I still love my husband…

He has become someone worth a second chance.

I kept my family whole…

We are a resilient bunch.

I am spending my summer finding my happy…

watching my niece get married, my kids fighting/playing/growing up, feeling the sun on my face, and learning to laugh again.

“But I’m gonna smile my best smile 

And I’m gonna laugh like it’s going out of style 

Look into her eyes and pray that she don’t see 

That learning to live again is killing me 

Now here we are beneath her porch light 

And I say what a great time it’s been 

A kiss on the cheek, a whisper goodnight 

And I say, “can I see you again” 

And she just smiles her best smile 

And she laughs like it’s going out of style 

Looks into my eyes and says, “We’ll see” 

Oh this learning to live again is killing me 

God this learning to live again is killing me”

-Garth Brooks-

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Something Unpredictable

It’s a cool, after the storms morning here in Oklahoma…

I was woke up last night by my oldest son, and told we needed to take cover. When they mention our small town on the news, and say a tornado has been spotted? You wake up your mom and drag her butt to the basement.

In the chaos that followed (no tornado touched down here), I forgot when I climbed back in bed to take my sleeping pill. “You’re still taking them Kelly?” you might ask remembering I hate taking them, hate using a “crutch”, hate the fact that they broke me.

Yes, I still take them. They make me sleep, keep the voices quiet and keep Crazy Kelly, Angry Kelly and Sad Kelly at bay. They let me navigate my life a little better, and just keep on keeping on, down that road to happiness.

So tornado warnings + taking cover = no sleeping pill.

I know you are all wondering, who did you kill and feed to my ever hungry sows…spoiler alert? All’s still good here in the heartland.

I woke up this morning at six from a dream and didn’t fall back asleep. Usually the pills keep me down until I have to force myself awake. I woke up and I could remember my dream, something that I don’t do on the pills.

Parts of the dream is still hazy, but I had gone back in time. There I was, old Kelly talking to a grade school Kelly, and she was having a bad day. We were walking home from school, and had cut across the town park. I don’t remember everything we talked about, but we ended up standing in front of the big rock church in my town. People were gathered and going in, we stood there and watched them for a minute, and then I told her my last piece of advice…

“Nothing in Life, not even Life is guaranteed, so don’t waste it.”

I left her there and started to walk away, then I woke up with the words still lingering. I don’t know if I read that phrase somewhere, I don’t know if someone famous said it, I just know that it’s true.

My middle son is graduating this week from High School. As I prepare there are triggers everywhere, and memories that want to pull me down. I have struggled this stormy month of May.

I am here though. I am alive and here with my family. My whole family.

My oldest just finished his Junior year at OSU. My middle son will graduate and attend college in Texas on a full ride. My baby, my youngest son? He has grown from a little boy into a six-foot tall, broad-shouldered, deep voiced, driving, sixteen year old-young man. He will finish up his sophomore year in high school this week.

I am here. Lou is…well Lou. She is graduating from Pre-K this week. She is a collector of rolly pollys and lighting bugs. She doesn’t walk anywhere, she skips. She goes on grand adventures in our yard with her puppies and dog friends in tow. She is beautiful, and bright, along with being stubborn, funny, and well just Lou.

I am here, alive and healing. I am here with my husband, making a new life. I miss my old life, my old self, but I am still here.

Life isn’t promised to any of us.

Happiness isn’t guaranteed.

Hell it’s not even mentioned in the contract.

Bad shit happened. It sucked, but to wallow in it, to let it win? It’s a waste of time, a waste of life, that you can never get back.

This road isn’t easy, but I thank God I haven’t reached the sign saying “Dead End.”

Nothing in Life, Not even Life is Guaranteed, So don’t waste it.

Another turning point, a fork stuck in the road Time grabs you by the wrist, directs you where to go

So make the best of this test and don’t ask why It’s not a question but a lesson learned in time
It’s something unpredictable but in the end is right I hope you had the time of your life
So take the photographs and still frames in your mind Hang it on a shelf in good health and good time Tattoos of memories and dead skin on trial For what it’s worth, it was worth all the while
It’s something unpredictable but in the end is right I hope you had the time of your life
It’s something unpredictable but in the end is right I hope you had the time of your life
It’s something unpredictable but in the end is right I hope you had the time of your life”
-Green Day-
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Blow Me

I had a little drama…

remember, I hate drama.

I got a little mad….

remember, I sometimes see red when I’m mad.

I started thinking….

remember sometimes I think too much.

So there I was surrounded by drama, mad and thinking. It wasn’t pretty. I, Kelly, had second…or is this third, or twenty-third now?…thoughts about writing an open blog. About writing an open blog, about my marriage, my family, our struggles. I started thinking “what the Hell have I put my family through”,  by as one person put it “airing my family’s dirty laundry”.

I was surrounded by drama because of  low blows taken at my family, my husband, myself, because I write a blog in a small town. So now when someone doesn’t like me, they attack my blog, my writing, me. It’s not the first time, I am sure it won’t be the last. I dare to write a blog about an affair and haven’t written it in the dark, with my curtains closed, and used a fake name. I DARED to face the humiliation, the shame that surrounds being a betrayed spouse with my head held high, and didn’t try to lie or hide it. I told my kids, my family, my friends, and didn’t keep it a secret. I didn’t do things by the book, or by the ‘norm’…I did it my way.

What if it was the wrong way?

Now there was a thought I have pondered.

What if I was wrong? What if by refusing to hide, refusing to lie, refusing to be anything but me, I had hurt my family? I had left my husband, who has tried to correct his mistakes, ‘own’ his wrongs, be a better man, open to ridicule and judgement. I had aired my family’s dirty laundry…Hell I will admit it, I pre treated it, washed it, and  dried it while the whole town watched. I didn’t care, if we are still being honest? I still don’t care.

So I pondered and wondered for about a week, then me being me? I threw in another week of thinking about it, because that’s what I do…over-think.

Then I put my big girl panties on, tucked my lady balls inside, and held my middle finger in the air.

I guess at the end of the day, and as I am finding myself closer and closer to the end of my blog, I just don’t care. I don’t care what small town minds think. I don’t care what people who have no right to judge my family, my husband or me think. I don’t care if people don’t like me. I don’t care if people don’t agree. I just don’t care.

I have been to Hell…

literal Hell.

I have seen my family break…

fall into pieces.

I have seen the deep well of depression…

i lived there.

I have seen love die…

it hurt.

I have shed tears…

until my phone broke from water damage.

I have lost my way…

in doing so found a new path.

I am not the same person…

i like the ‘new’ me better.

I have made new friends…

i really like them.

I have lost old friends…

hope the door hit them on the way out.

I have helped other betrayed spouses…

good night are we a crazy bunch.

I have learned what’s important…

other people’s opinions aren’t.

I think I did the right thing…

throwing open the curtains to what infidelity really is.

I don’t regret being honest…

it feels better than lying.

I am glad I wrote this blog…

my always crazy,

sometimes angry,

occasionally sad,

honest till the end my friends,

blog.

It has helped me heal…

it has helped others too.

Then as  my thoughts ended, I heard Bob clear his throat “Kelly? Are you still helping? If so then why are you asking what to do? Write what you want, how you want, and don’t worry about the opinion of others. As long as you believe deep in your heart it’s doing good? Keep on keeping on.” he paused, ” but try to keep that temper? Under control.”

I am…

I will…

I know…

I do…

I will try…

and trying my sweet friends? Is all any of us can do…

I will do what I please

Anything that I want

I will breathe, I will breathe
I won’t worry at all

You will pay for your sins
You’ll be sorry, my dear
All the lies, all the whys
Will all be crystal clear

I think I’ve finally had enough
I think I maybe think too much
I think this might be it for us
Blow me one last kiss

You think I’m just too serious
I think you’re full of shit
My head is spinning, so
Blow me one last kiss”

-Pink-

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Stacy’s Mom

I have now blogged 200 times. TWO HUNDRED POSTS….two hundred posts filled with my sadness, my crazy, my tears, my laughter, my ups and downs, and most important? My story, the story of me Kelly and how I survived.

I thought about writing 200 things I’ve learned on this journey, but it’s a crazy week. County show, Lou is sick, and I’m working full time now, so it will have to wait. Then I thought let’s go back to the start, the day I took a deep breath and found my voice.

I like to think “Stacy’s Mom” still has it going on…

Happiness used to live here...surviving an affair

“Testing…Testing… One, Two, Three…is anyone out there?” Deep Breathe Kelly this isn’t rocket science and Lord knows it ain’t the hardest thing you’ve ever done. So here we go my sweet friends, grab my hand tight, I don’t know where we are going to land, All together now..One, Two, THREE JUMP!!!!”

I feel better now so lets begin this journey. I’m surrounded by my friends and while there might be some in the shadows reading this…following me for an entirely different purpose, I am not afraid. Your power over me and my thoughts is over, and while I still struggle to find my Happiness again, I have found MY voice. So you over there…yeah YOU in the shadows with your hate and your lies, keep on moving Honey “ain’t nobody got time for you”.

I have struggled with the decision to write this, to pull back the curtains and let…

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Karma

I used to love Karma…

I did, I loved the thought of karma. Loved it…then my husband had an affair, and I started thinking “What did I do to deserve it?” Because karma is all about what you put out into the world coming back to you. It is the boomerang of life, of cosmic justice…if you do bad? Bad shit happens. If you do good? Good things happen.So simple, so easy to follow, just be a good person and you would get a good life.

I stopped believing in karma after the affair came out. I couldn’t because no matter how hard I racked my brain (and trust me I spent hours, days, months, years trying to figure it out) I couldn’t think of one thing I had done to deserve this level of bad shit. I was nice to kids and puppies. I loved old people. I never went out of my way to find drama. I was a good mom. I was a good wife. I lived my life on the straight and narrow. I was the person who would stop and help an older person put groceries in their trunk. I always held the door open for others. I would let people with a couple of items go ahead of me, with my cart full at the check out line. I spent hours crying over dead or dying animals in my lifetime. I loved deeply, and I laughed loudly.

I WAS A GOOD PERSON.

Then a bunch of really bad shit happened, which I really didn’t deserve…

So I stopped believing in karma, couldn’t believe any longer. Karma was bullshit. After the affair? I had no time in my life for bullshit.

But then?

My new endeavor? The one I teased you all about?  The one I’m still not talking about? That one? It made me stop and think maybe there really is karma in this world.

Maybe God every once in a while stops and thinks “Hey you know what would be poetic justice? What would be karma-tic? What would make Kelly giggle again?”

Okay the last one is far-fetched, I’m assuming with all the bad crap in the world God doesn’t really think about my giggles. But I do think he likes to teach people a lesson. This time it wasn’t me but Mrs. Can Can herself…I heard her ex-husband refers to her as his wife again, did those two crazy kids remarry? I don’t know, don’t really care except to question what she wore to the ceremony if they did. Please tell me it was her can can girl outfit…pretty please?

So where was I? Oh yeah my up in the air endeavor and how it brought the whore karma-tic justice.

So the people I have been in talks with, were a little curious about her. In the whore’s defense, I probably made her a little more interesting in my blog than she is in real life, and that made them curious enough to want to contact her. I thought about it, and then I giggled a little, said “sure”. I mean really, I have nothing to hide, everyone knows my story. So I gave them her name, her real name. They contacted her.

They sent her a letter.

I hear she declined to participate in my project.

I wonder what it is like to open your mailbox, and receive a letter that makes you want to scream.

Oh yeah, she sent me one a couple of years ago. I hope she enjoyed her letter as much as I did mine.

Karma…I hear she is a bitch.

“This is the payback from the past
You threw me down like I was just a piece of trash
You gave me cash every week just enough to live
But didn’t get what I deserved instead I was deceived
Still young and didn’t know about this in the street
Of the acts, so crass and shady
Don’t crush your dreamshow and your whole entity
Subliminally you’re on the hire from a slavery
Remember that “What goes around, comes around”
God is watching you and evrything that you do
Do you remember everything that you did before
The way the bad action opens cosmic door
I’ma leave it up to God what he got for you
I’ma leave it up to Him what he got for me
And he’s watching you

Yeah, yeah
Watch out

Ain’t no running from
Karma, and no running
Ain’t no running from
Karma, and no running”

-Black Eyed Peas-

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Celebrity

I have a secret…

I don’t really like secrets.

I have told my family, and some really close friends. The people in my life who needed to know. I am waiting to see where this leads. I am waiting to see if this is real. I am waiting to see if I need to tell you all, or it will just remain an unwritten chapter in my life.

I am not pregnant.

Just saying…

I will find out a little more today. I will be able to figure out how this is all going to go.

My life is getting surreal.

I might be redoing my Koi pond again, pulling out all the rocks and dirt.

I might be walking down the road of infidelity again, retelling my story.

My life is taking a turn, and leading me down a path I never thought I’d take.

Cause when you’re a celebrity
It’s adios reality
You can act just like a fool
People think you’re cool
Just ’cause you’re on TV
I can throw a major fit
When my latte isn’t just how I like it
When they say I’ve gone insane
I’ll blame it on the fame
And the pressures that go with
Being a celebrity

I’ll get to cry to Barbara Walters when things don’t go my way
And I’ll get community service no matter which law I break
I’ll make the supermarket tabloids, they’ll write some awful stuff
But the more they run my name down the more my price goes up

‘Cause when you’re a celebrity
It adios reality
No matter what you do
People think you’re cool
Just ’cause you’re on TV
I can fall in and out of love
Have marriages that barely last a month
When they go down the drain
I’ll blame it on the fame
And say it’s just so tough
Being a celebrity

So let’s hitch up the wagons and head out west
To the land of the fun and the sun
We’ll be real world bachelor jackass millionaires
Hey hey Hollywood here we come

‘Cause when you’re a celebrity
It adios reality
No matter what you do
People think you’re cool
Just ’cause you’re on TV

Brad Paisley-

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What Hurts The Most

 

Hi…my name is Kelly and I am a betrayed spouse…”

“Hi Kelly…”

I’m 809 days into my recovery.”

“And?” Asks Bob my inner therapist.

And I’m okay?”

“And Okay is good enough?” Questions Angry Kelly from the audience.

Okay is better than horrible…better than dead…Hey it’s better than bitter and angry.”

“What’s wrong with angry?” Angry Kelly stands up and starts heading to the front.

Nothing, I mean I just don’t like being angry all the time, and acting crazy or bitter…”

“So now you are too good to be shitting on cars or keeping people in dog crates? Ooohhh look at the ‘goody goody’ being all sane and okay!!!” Crazy Kelly joins Angry Kelly as she storms to the front.

“I wish I was okay…” cries Sad Kelly from the back of the room as she sits rocking back and forth.

I get it I do.

Okay is shit.

Okay sucks.

Okay is just that, okay…

I used to be better than okay. I used to be good and on some days? Great…I became a betrayed spouse and ‘Okay’ is as good as it gets.

I was asked the other day if I was recovered.

Recovered? Betrayed spouses are like recovering addicts, we will never be fully well again. We will never be recovered or the same, we will never be healed, we will just be taking it day-to-day for the rest of our lives, praying we don’t relapse and go all the way back.

I think it sucks. Why are we the ones who are stuck with issues?

I didn’t get to have any drunken benders, have any ‘fun’, be stupid and selfish. I was the one here, changing diapers, feeding cows, and chasing teenage boys. I never got a vacation from reality, got to regress to my 20’s and pretend to be something other than a mom.

I get to spend the rest of my life in recovery for someone else’s actions, okay two ‘someone’s’ and it isn’t fair.

I am 809 days into this…EIGHT HUNDRED AND NINE FUCKING DAYS.

I wish I could tell those in the beginning of their journey, who are looking for comfort and for me to be someone to hold up as a beacon of hope in their newly destroyed lives…

” Hell yeah I’m recovered and just fine, good as new”

I don’t lie on here though.

I don’t think you ever ‘recover”.

I think we get to be in recovery forever.

Scary thought?

What the Hell is 809 days on the journey to forever?

Just one small baby step down the road of infidelity…

“I can take the rain on the roof of this empty house
That don’t bother me
I can take a few tears now and then and just let ’em out

I’m not afraid to cry every once in a while even though
Goin’ on with you gone still upsets me
There are days every now and again
I pretend I’m okay
But that’s not what gets me

What hurts the most
Was being so close
And havin’ so much to say
And watchin’ you walk away

And never knowin’
What could’ve been
And not seein’ that lovin’ you
Is what I was tryin’ to do

It’s hard to deal with the pain of losin’ you everywhere I go
But I’m doin’ it
It’s hard to force that smile when I see our old friends and I’m alone
Still harder gettin’ up, gettin’ dressed, livin’ with this regret
But I know if I could do it over
I would trade, give away all the words that I saved in my heart
That I left unspoken”

– Rascal Flatts –

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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