Bitter Ex-Wives & Other Freaks of Nature

Being the new wife takes on a new demension when the EX won’t let go. My true story…

April 2, 2000 – Nosey Ninnies August 28, 2007

Filed under: bitter,divorce,life — bitterexwives @ 1:22 am

  After last night’s performance – drinking, bumping, and grinding – I am ashamed to say that I went to church today. I figured the least I could do is pay homage to my Lord and Savior, while silently praying for forgiveness for all of my sins as I walked over the threshold.

  “Forgive me Lord for lusting after the cute guy who taught me the merengue last night.  Forgive me Lord for drinking in excess.  Forgive me Lord for grinding on the cute guy who taught me the merengue. Forgive me Lord for grinding on the guy who bought me a drink.  Forgive me Lord for entertaining obscene sexual fantasies about the guy who taught me the merengue. Forgive me Lord for hating Bryce.  Forgive me Lord for hating Margo…okay maybe not; I am not ready to be forgiven yet for that one.  Forgive me Lord for taking two-hour lunches everyday this week to go shopping. Forgive me Lord for using shopping as an emotional crutch.  Forgive me Lord for being vain, but with the rest of my life spiraling out of control, clothes have become my anchor. Forgive me Lord for any other sin I may have forgotten.” 

  I promise, I am a Christian…I just love to dance.  Okay, I love sex even more and surely God doesn’t expect me to ignore my sexual urges – I am married and marriage was supposed to be accompanied with a license to screw.  Albeit not random men, but at least the one I married. Alright, alright, I won’t go down that path again. It’s a daily struggle nevertheless; I’m trying desperately not to be bitter. I’m also trying DAILY to resist the urge to hunt down Bryce and Margo, dismembering them, and mailing body parts to all 50 states plus the District of Columbia. STOP IT!  Now I really look crazy, I didn’t realize I was fussing at myself aloud and the usher was staring directly at me.

  After service, I smiled pleasantly and hugged everyone before leaving.  Recently, I have been considering rejoining the dance troupe at church – being approached on numerous occasions by the leader and recruited by several of the members has somewhat influenced my decision. Once summer break begins, I’ll have more time to enjoy additional extracurricular activities.  I just have to endure six more weeks of classes – honestly, the thought of dropping out of the program is enticing.  The emotional strain is wearing on me and even though Dr. Ellis advised me to refrain from making major decisions at this time, it has proved increasingly difficult to go to class twice a week.  Not to mention completing reading assignments, writing papers, conducting research, and all of the other business associated with being a college student.  I absolutely, positively do not have the emotional aptitude to maintain this level of responsibility even if I will have the summer months to recuperate.  WOW, the answer is becoming clearer by the minute. Okay Angel, stop rambling.

  As Celeste and I like to say…”I was just sitting at home minding my own business, when…,” my telephone rang.  Being the telephonaholic that I am, I was scampering to answer it.  On the other line was one of my “girlfriends” and I use the term lightly, from church.  While a little surprised, I greeted her with ambivalent wariness resulting solely from the nature of our relationship.  Julia Jamison is extremely nice, however, not overly welcoming of me outside of church. Years ago, I thought she was a good friend and asked her to be the maid of honor in my wedding. She attended my shower and was supportive until after the wedding. It became overwhelmingly obvious that I was a friend as long as it made her look good.  I started to notice that I didn’t get invitations to social gatherings at her home or return phone calls in response to my calls.  Just as with Angelina, I became tired of one-sided relationships. Which is why, I wasn’t sure how to react to this unexpected phone call. 

  Fortunately, I didn’t have to wait too long to see Julia’s true intentions – she immediately went for the jugular.

  “Hi Angel.  How have you been?”

  “Good and yourself?”

  “Good. How is school coming along for you?”

  “Not bad. A little stressful, but I’ll get through it.”

  “WOW, I can only imagine. Especially with everything going on with you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well,  I haven’t seen Bryce at church recently.  Where has he been?”

  “Julia, I don’t want to discuss this.”

  “Why not? I am just concerned about you.”

  “Concerned about me?  You haven’t bothered to call me in over a year.  You have not called me to even say ‘Hey, how ya doing.’ You haven’t bothered to return any phone calls I have previously made to you, but you now want to call me and ask questions about my husband? Do you really expect me to discuss my personal business with you?”

  “I was just concerned, because you have been coming to church alone.”

 “Thank you for your concern. When I am ready to talk, I will.  Did you want anything else?”

  “No.”

  “Okay, well, I’ll talk to you later.”

  I cannot believe her audacity.  What a nosey bitch!

 

April 2, 2000 – The Morning After August 25, 2007

Filed under: dancing,divorce,girlfriends,life,salsa — bitterexwives @ 3:33 am

  Last night I had a blast! It has been a long time since I had that much fun. The last few months I have wallowed in self-pity, anger, bitterness, and overall emotional pain. I had no desire to have fund nor would I allow myself the simple pleasure.  The funny thing is I almost did not go last night – when Dionne initially called to invite me, I spent the entire conversation providing the appropriate responses fused with just the right amount of enthusiasm, while secretly trying to figure out a plausible excuse for not being able to join them.  If it hadn’t been for Grace, I would have never joined them.  Faithful Grace. Always the voice of reason.

  The one thing I kept thinking about last night was my “separated” status. Being separated and almost single is a weird place to be in.  Legally I am still married, but my husband doesn’t live with me.  I still have sexual needs that my husband should meet, but he’s fulfilling someone else’s sexual needs.  Sometimes I am lonely and want to be comforted, but my husband is not accessible to me.  I don’t want to date anyone else to get my needs met, because secretly, I would give anything to have my husband back.  That’ why I still wear my wedding ring. The very concept of spending time with another man feels extremely wrong.  Even if I wanted to date, it would never come to fruition, because I am too angry.  Men don’t look at me twice and I think it’s because I give off a seriously angry vibe.  That, “don’t ask me for my number because I might spit on you” vibe OR the “don’t buy me a drink and think your entitled to more, because I might hunt you down and break your jaw” kind of vibe. I have heard men say that when a woman is in the “I hate men mode” they can immediately pick up that emotion and tend to run in the opposite direction.

  The club was nothing like what I expected.  It had a dual personality – Greek restaurant by day, Latin Club by night. I don’t think I have ever seen anything quite like it.  The dance floor consisted of a 12 x 12 space covered with Pergo flooring. It was obvious that restaurant patrons sat in that very spot during the day eating gyros. The bar was large and generously stocked – so I couldn’t complain; although I do not think I would ever go during the week for lunch. Restaurants should be restaurants and clubs should be clubs, I don’t think I like those that serve an in-between function. This was obviously a happenin’ spot, because it was packed. I never realized that Indianapolis contained such a large Hispanic population. Was this new? 

  Notwithstanding my revelations about the population, I quickly overcame my initial impressions and gratefully accepted a drink from a really cute Mexican guy.  After my first drink I danced up a sweat, 50% of the time alone and 50% of the time with one random Mexican guy after another. The time in between was spent drinking and laughing with the girls.  The first time I was asked to dance I didn’t know how to respond.  For some unknown reason, I felt like I was somehow betraying Bryce by dancing with another man. Especially when dancing to a slow song.  What is wrong with me?  Why do I feel obligated to continue upholding marriage vows broken by Bryce over a year ago with Margo? Anyway…after a couple of drinks and continual prodding from Grace I began to loosen up. That was when the real fun began.

  Before I knew what was happening, I had not only mastered the basic salsa step, I was also doing the merengue and the rhumba.  Who would have thought it would be so much fun?  By 3:00 a.m., I had sweated out the alcohol, my feet hurt, and I was ready to go home.  The only depressing part of the evening was that I had become sexually aroused from doing the merengue with no possibility of release.  According to the guy who showed me the step, the merengue is like a “slow grind.”  Well that was right up my alley – after that explanation, every time the merengue music came on all I could think about was grinding.  From now on, just thinking about the merengue is going to make me wet.

  As my grandmother used to say, I left the club hot and bothered. Several of us, including me, carpooled so I was the second-to-last person dropped off.  We departed with the promise to celebrate the next birthday together – a fantastic idea since my birthday was next.  As soon as the front door opened, I kicked off my shoes and limped to the bedroom assured that I would awake with blisters on both feet.  Barely able to keep my eyes open, I peeled off my clothes and fell exhausted into my just delivered that morning, king sized, pillow top bed.   Reeking of smoke, I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.

 

March 30, 2000 (Evening) – Will Work For Food August 20, 2007

Filed under: divorce,family,furniture,insufficient funds,life — bitterexwives @ 2:08 pm

  Call it pride, call it what you will, but today has been quite a humbling experience.  As a child and even more so as an adult, I have always been very independent.  I do not like to ask for help unless it is absolutely necessary and today I had to ask for money to cover the bad check I had written.

  I remember when I was in college and moved into a new apartment.  My new roommate, Roselyn, was not scheduled to move into the apartment for another two weeks so I was living there alone.  My measly possessions consisted of the clothing on my back and in my closet as well as a few miscellaneous pots, pans, plates, and silverware.  Looking back in hindsight, I was about $50 dollars shy of being homeless.  But, with a roof over my head and enough money to eat and buy gas – I was content.

  The first night in my apartment was evidence of this fact.  Armed with blankets and comforters – remnants from my last apartment, I made a pallet and slept on the hardwood floor.  Every morning thereafter, I would awake groggy, stiff, and sore, but without complaints.  It could be worse so, I didn’t complain and no one knew the circumstances of my situation except my family.  Unfortunately, during this time, we meaning my family and me were not on the best of terms.  Actually, my dad and I were not speaking so there was no way in hell I was going to call him and ask for anything.  Especially since I knew he would say “NO” – so why waste the energy?

  Nevertheless, about two weeks later, I received a phone call from my mother, with a secret plot to undermine my father’s authority.  Unbeknownst to my father, my mother bought me bedroom furniture and needed assistance with her plan to deliver the spoils to my apartment.  There was no way my father could ever find out about her subterfuge or all would be lost. 

  Months later, the relationship between my father and I was restored, however, it is out of my character to ask for help.  Thus, taking me back to the present – asking my mother for money.  As I explained earlier, it was a very humbling experience.  Everything in me was having an adverse reaction to the idea…at one point I think my blood pressure began to rise and my heart began palpitating.  Okay, I’m exaggerating, but you get the point.  However, by lunchtime, I could not put the deed off any longer…not with the threat of a bounced check looming in the background.

  When I explained the situation with Bryce, the bedroom furniture, and his mother – who my mother hates and affectionately calls “Hattie the Witch” – there was no need to ask for the money.  My mother immediately asked me what I needed.  Thank you Lord! I considered making a sign that said…”Will Work For Food” and holding it up when I saw her.  My mother has such a sick sense of humor; she would have doubled over with laughter.   Too bad, it was hectic at work this morning, because I didn’t get a chance to create the sign.

  During the walk to my mother’s office, I was filled with such relief.  While only a 10-minute walk from my office, I was invigorated by the time we met during my lunch break.  Quickly, we exchanged a $350 dollar check for hugs and I was on my way to the bank.   However, not without one last comment about “Hattie the Witch”!  Sometimes my mother can be such a “mean girl” and I absolutely love her for it!

  I wanted to email Bryce and pass on this message…”once again I have foiled your evil plot to destroy me.  Like the Phoenix, I shall rise out of the ashes!”  Maybe not, I don’t want him to know that I waste time thinking about him.  My earlier counseling session was emotional enough.

 

March 30, 2000 (Late Afternoon) – More Counseling August 17, 2007

Filed under: bitterness,divorce,life,psychologist — bitterexwives @ 2:44 am

  “Angel, how are you this evening?”

  “I’m okay Dr. Ellis, I guess. Still extremely pissed at Bryce for forcing me into this divorce situation.  I feel that he has wasted these last four years of my life – dating, engagement, and marriage.  Four years that I will never be able to reclaim.  I feel like a test dummy.”

  “Okay have you had any successes this week?”

  “Yes.  I haven’t thought about killing myself and I only cry about once a day.”

  “That’s good. Let’s start today by discussing…”

  Dammit! I cried again today while in counseling.  I said I wasn’t going to cry, but the harder I try not to, the easier the tears fill my eyes and spill over. Things are definitely getting better, but as much as I hate him, I cannot imagine not loving Bryce.  How do you turn your feelings off and on? I wish someone could tell me, because I have yet to master my emotional faucet.  Honestly, I do not believe that I am capable of deciding that I don’t love someone.  Tell you to “kiss my ass” and not like you anymore – absolutely! But to simply decide…”I don’t love you anymore.” – impossible.  My love runs too deep – I’m probably a borderline stalker. Maybe that’s why Bryce left me.

  As I left counseling this evening, with puffy red eyes and nasal congestion, I began to question myself.  Is it possible to love too hard? To love too much?  To give of oneself too completely?

  The best thing to do is table that train of thinking.  At this point in time, going to class is my top priority – Celeste and I can discuss later.

 

March 30, 2000 (Morning) – Insufficient Funds August 15, 2007

Filed under: bitterness,divorce,furniture,insufficient funds,life — bitterexwives @ 6:17 pm

  This morning I awoke in a complete panic. Last night, between Arhaus and Macy’s I spent over $4000.00. Okay Angel…take deep cleansing breaths and relax.  Deep cleansing breaths…and relax.  One last time…deep cleansing breaths…and relax.

  It’s not so bad…everything was financed except the mattress.  I wrote a $350.00 dollar check for a fabulous, king sized, pillow top Serta mattress, which was a great deal.  To Macy’s chagrin and my surprise, the mattress was lost in inventory and recently found.  Originally $1100.00 dollars before taxes, I purchased the bed and paid for the delivery charges for the rock bottom price of $350.00 dollars. Unfortunately, I don’t have the money to cover the check.  Yes, that was a really bad move. No, I should not have written the check – I can see my checking account bouncing from here to Hong Kong and then being arrested for attempting to defraud a financial institution. Oh God, it’s time to pray.

  “Lord, if you are listening to me right now, I ask that you come to my rescue.  I know I wrote a bad check, please show me favor and move on the hearts of all my friends and family that I may have to call to beg for money.  Please God, let someone say yes to my request. I cannot afford to bounce a check.  Lord, I thank you in advance.  Amen.”

 Once I get to work, I’ll call my mom.  If I need to take an extended lunch to pull together the money and deposit it in my account, then so be it. This is yet another reason to hate Bryce.  I really cannot afford to lose my job because I am begging for money.  I already need to leave work early to go to my counseling session in order to make it to class on time.

  What else can I do?

 

March 29, 2000 – Another Call From the Church Elder

Filed under: divorce,furniture,life,relationships — bitterexwives @ 3:57 am

  Sometimes I think I am a hypochondriac.  Okay maybe that’s the wrong word…let’s try another word…clinically paranoid.  Is that even a medical term?  Who knows, my life, my thoughts, I’ll make up my own words. I know I am rambling incessantly – I can’t help it.

  All day I have teetered back and forth between feeling sexy now that my navel is pierced and worrying if I contracted some mysterious incurable disease from ACME, the place where I obtained the piercing. Better yet, I have alternated between contracting a disease to the more likely possibility that an infection is festering just under the surface of the skin.  Diligently, I have been following the instructions given to me by the “piercing experts,” but I still worry.  Even though it has only been 24 hours, washing and drying the piercing twice a day has already become an aggravation.  However, aggravation or not, my fear of the lockjaw overpowered the aggravation.

  That fear motivated me to call Dionne and gracefully bow out of dance practice tonight.  I kept envisioning one of the dancers accidentally kicking me in the stomach.  Or even better, while practicing the dance routine with the back over-the-shoulder roll, I could imagine all too clearly crashing into one of the other dancers and my navel ring tangled in someone’s hair.  I know it’s absurd, especially since I have never been kicked in any body part nor tangled in anyone’s hair, but my paranoia was overwhelming.  This led me to leaving work early, quickly putting on a baby tee exposing my new navel piercing, and heading straight to the mall. 

   Today was unseasonably warm.  The cute tee combine with a denim jacket gave me a funky yet comfortable look – perfect for shopping.  The first stop, Arhaus Furniture in Merchants Square. Since I was playing hooky from dance practice, I figured I should make the best of it.  My purchase list included bedroom furniture…yes I am still looking for new bedroom furniture, which pisses me off tremendously, and if I have time, more shirts that show off my navel ring.

  The highlight of my night…I found a bed that literally took my breath away.  An absolutely beautiful work of art, this bed was made of cream wrought iron with a filigree design on both the head and footboard. The filigree design contained an intricate pattern that alternated between swirls, circles, and flowers. I have never seen anything like it.  Considering my lack of readily available cash, I was thankful when the sales associate explained the one-year same-as-cash sales event. The stars were aligned in my favor – 20 minutes later, I was leaving Arhaus Furniture with a sales receipt in my purse and a delivery date scheduled for Saturday.  Darn! There goes shirt shopping I needed to find a mattress for my new king sized bed. 

  At Macy’s Furniture Gallery, I headed straight to the mattress section.  The last time I was here, I picked out the most decadent king-sized pillow top mattress.  Because I did not have a bed in mind, the need to purchase a new mattress was the least of my concerns.  The god’s were showing me favor, the mattress was on sale and available for delivery on Saturday. Then I saw it…a painted wood ensemble in the softest creamy white.  White is too harsh…the color of buttermilk is probably more accurate.  At that moment, I knew nothing else would satisfy my tastes; I had to have the dresser and chest of drawers as a compliment to the new wrought iron bed.  I was in love.  Within minutes, I had another one-year same-as-cash contract in hand and a third delivery scheduled for Saturday.

  I could not wait to get home and call Celeste. She knew how stressful furniture shopping was…not really knowing what my tastes were, anxiety over the idea of making a major purchase – alone, and even worse knowing that I was operating on such a tight budget that I would not be able to afford the type of bedroom furniture that took my breath away. The type of furniture I found today.

  For the first time in months, I was looking forward to going home and planning how I would decorate the rest of my bedroom.  The last few weeks I had been so angry with Bryce and the world at large that this brief moment of piece felt like a safe haven in the midst of a raging storm.  I was startled to find myself pulling in the driveway of the home I used to share with Bryce. Refusing to dwell on that thought, I grabbed the phone as soon as I shut and locked the front door to check my messages first prior to calling Celeste.

  “Hello, this message is for Angel.  Angel, this is Melodie, call me when you get in.” No big deal I thought, I’ll call Melodie quickly before I call Celeste. I figured whatever Melodie wanted, we could discuss in five minutes or less.  That is all I had the patience to give to serious conversation tonight – I wanted to laugh. 

  “Hello, may I speak to Melodie?”

  “This is she. Is this Angel?”

  “Yes, I hope it’s not too late, but I just received your message.  Is everything alright?”

  “Absolutely.  Actually, I wanted to talk to you about Terrence.  After our meeting last night, he really opened up and began talking to me about some personal issues that he is currently dealing with.  Have you talked to Terrence recently?”

  “Actually no. I had no idea that he was dealing with some personal issues.”

  “Well, I am not at liberty to discuss them, but I will say, if Terrence is willing to open up, you will be able to understand what he is going through.  Terrence really needs a friend right now.  A friend he can trust.”

  “Okay, I will call him.  Do you have his new number? ”

  “All I have is his pager number. I am sure if you leave him a message, Terrence will return your call.”

  After writing down Terrence’s pager number, we ended the call and I left Terrence a message on his pager. My curiosity was getting the best of me. I wonder what this could be about.

 

March 28, 2000 – A Call From the Church Elder August 8, 2007

Filed under: divorce,life,memories,relationships — bitterexwives @ 6:55 pm

    With all of the activities Bryce and I have participated in over the years, not receiving a phone call from someone at the church at least once every two weeks would be odd. Therefore, when I answered the phone around 8:00 o’clock this evening and heard the voice of Elder King on the other end, I was not surprised.

  “Good evening Angel.  How are you doing?”

  “Pretty good Melodie and yourself?”

  “Blessed Angel, truly blessed.  I was calling because I am on my way to a meeting with an old friend of yours, Terrence Powers.  Apparently, I have lost his number and I need to let him know that I am running late.  Do you have it?”

  “Wow, I haven’t talked to Terrence since he called the house looking for Bryce. Before then it had been almost a year. The only number I have in my phone book is 317-555-1212.”

  “That’s the same number I have and it is not in service. Is there anyone else you know who might have his number?”

  “Yes, actually the best person to call would be Jeremy and Julia Jamison they are god-parents for each other’s children. Do you have their number?”

  “Yes, I do.  I’ll give them a call.  Thanks for your help.”

  “Oh yeah, as a back up, you can also call Julia’s sister, Teresa.”

  “I have both of those numbers.  Thanks again!”

  I guess I was in the right place at the right time.  It actually is surprising that Melodie called me before Jeremy and Julia.  Bryce and I were never extremely close to Terrence and his wife, Angelina.  Actually, about six years ago (before Bryce and I were even married) the four of us attended a different church together and at times participated in the same activities.

  When Terrence was involved in a car accident, I volunteered the use of my car for a few weeks during the day while I was in college.  Terrence and his wife lived near the university and their work schedules were in harmony with my school schedule, which made this arrangement convenient for both of us.  Typically, I arrived on campus at 7:45 a.m. and departed around 5:30 p.m. – between classes and my job in resident assistance there was no need for me to leave.  Again… a product of being in the right place at the right time.

  Bryce actually had what I would classify as a good relationship with Terrence, but Angelina was aloof.  When using my vehicle she was very nice and we would talk in the evenings when they picked me up from work.  At one point I thought we were going to develop a close relationship, however, when they no longer needed transportation assistance, Angelina became very distant.   She never returned any of my phone calls or invited me to gatherings at their home or any of the things “friends” actually do.  Eventually, that time in my life faded into the background as I lost interest in one-sided relationships.
 
  A couple of years later, 1996 to be exact, after Bryce and I were married we were officially inducted into the “married couples club” at church.  We were invited to events that included Terrence and Angelina and we developed an acquaintance status.  They were a fun couple to spend time with; Angelina often became the life of the party with her practical jokes and Terrence found a competition in everything.  Nevertheless, Bryce and I always remained on the periphery of their lives.

  Almost one year later Bryce and I began attending a new church – the church that I attend today alone without Bryce. It seems as though I have seen Terrence and Angelina a maximum of four times since then. Which is why I am surprised that Melodie called me before Jeremy and Julia.  Hhmmm…