a blow-up

I've demonstrated huge amounts of patience since D-Day. Really, I have. Which comes somewhat as a miracle to me because if you remember, patience is not a strength I usually carry. So after 23 days of controlled, practiced patience, I exploded. The beast of short-tempers and biting words came out snarling and clawing. And, um, well, it felt good.

Usually, once I'm alone after an outburst, I feel remorseful. I regret things I said and wish I could've just held my tongue and tried to be more like the Savior. I remember that patience, kindness and understanding had escaped me in that moment of rage.

But my dad (one of my true kindred spirits) reminded me that the Savior got mad, too. Yes, He was kind, patient and understanding. BUT, He was also irate at times. When He threw out the money-changers who were corrupting and defiling His house, even the temple, He was pretty downright outraged.

Matthew 21:12-13 reads, "And Jesus went into the temple of God, and cast out all them that sold and bought in the temple, and overthrew the tables of the moneychangers, and the seats of them that sold doves, And said unto them, It is written, My house shall be called the house of prayer; but ye have made it a den of thieves."

He threw people out. He turned over tables. And I'm 99% certain He yelled.

So last night, I felt like my anger and words could be categorized as "righteous indignation." Enough was enough. And unfortunately, Simon has to be shocked into a lot of things. I really believe he is disconnected from reality even now. I can see it in his face. I can see when he's being selfish and prideful and has that thought of, "What more do you want from me?" 

Well, buddy, I want a lot more. 

After D-Day I set a few boundaries. 

1. I would not sleep in the same bad as him. Or even stay in the same house. (The kids and I moved in with my parents.)

2. He had to hand over his "secret credit card" that he'd been using to keep all escapades a secret from me. (There's a nice whooper of a balance on that thing, of course.)

3. No more video games. None. They don't invite the spirit. They are a waste of time.

Seems pretty simple to me. Seems easy to me. Especially if you're a man who says he desperately wants his wife and children back and is "willing to do whatever it takes."

So I asked to see Simon's credit card account on his phone to make sure he had made a payment. He said he had. And he did. Good job. BUT, there were TWO new charges for XBOX games that he'd downloaded to play. So he was STILL using the credit card (he has it linked up to Amazon and XBOX apparently) and he was STILL playing video games. 

I confronted him on it. And I could see the defensive stare start to run across his face. I could see the bounce of his leg, a sure sign he's about to bite back. And this was his bite: "I used recognition money from work to buy those. I felt like I earned it. I wanted to have fun with my money. Our kids have never wanted wanted for anything so what's the big deal? I didn't tell you because I knew you'd say No and act like this. And I deserved those video games."

I bit back, "I I I I I I I I, me me me me me me me me me, I I I I I I II !!!!!!!"

It blew my mind that he could still act and say such selfish things. Keep in mind that XBOX games are $60 each!! And as I looked over all the charges, there were at least 6 of them. Here I had been making budgets, struggling to get us out of debt, stressing over the cost of formula and diapers and worrying about how we were going to send Jimmy (our oldest) to preschool. It was infuriating. I said these things. Simon just rolled his eyes and did a guffaw of, "Good for you, wow you're so perfect." And that's when the "D" word came out. Divorce.

I told him I thought I wanted a divorce. Screamed/ugly cried it is more accurate. But I felt strong and laid all the terribleness out on the table. Thoughts I had been festering in and praying over and crying over and pondering over sincerely solidly marched out one by one:

I have no respect, trust or confidence in you.

I don't want my kids to have a father like you. 

I don't want a husband like you.

We deserve so much better.

Those are some harsh words, I know. But they were the truth and they needed to be said. And Simon said the most pernicious and obnoxious thing, "You realize that divorce is giving up, right? You're giving up!"

I lost it. I totally went ape! "How dare you say that to me! YOU gave up on us! YOU chose to toss us into the gutter and go sleep with some skank six times! YOU chose to abandon your children and wife and think only of yourself! Even now, you can't follow through with two simple boundaries. Your selfishness is amazing."

And I scooped up my kids and left. He helped put them in the car but I didn't look at him once. I started that engine and drove down our hill thinking it was over. And I didn't even cry then. I regretted nothing. 

Then the texts started coming, "I'm begging you." and "Please don't leave me." and "I want to go to counseling."

That's all well in good, but those phrases were peppered in a lot of lengthy sentences describing how he really was changing (does he want a medal for saying his prayers now?), how he's not perfect and never will be (gag me), how he loves me but he can't make me love him back (blah blah blah). And though he skirted around an apology, he never actually said the words, "I AM SORRY. I WILL FOLLOW THE BOUNDARIES." Nope. Classic Simon. All pride and defense. "I did the bare minimum and expected applause and the greatest reward" should be written on his gravestone. It makes me sick.

I agreed to keep our family counselor appointment but made it crystal clear that I couldn't carry him kicking and screaming to the celestial kingdom. I wouldn't. I didn't want to. I did want to help him. But, I was protecting myself and my kids from now on from his poisonous attitude and self-entitled actions. More boundaries. 

Boundaries up the wazoo. I need to get back to the temple.

Love,
AnneGirl