A Tune Revisited

The 2nd anniversary of my Discovery Day just passed. (July 31st.)

I had asked you guys for angry fuck you songs to help me cope with the swirling emotions of being cheated on and realizing that I had wasted 15 years of my life with a piece of pond scum.

You guys delivered some great tunes, but my favorite one is down below, introduced to me by my good friend ES. It’s a classic 80’s anthem of breakup/divorce and I think that I’ve listened to it at least 100 times.

I’m legally divorced now and happy about it. It’s amazing really…how many things can change in just 2 years.

He ain’t worth the salt in my tears and he never was.


Martin Briley Salt In My Tears 1983

I never did it
No I won’t admit it
Why should I lie for you anymore?
You never loved me
You pushed and you shoved me
I seen a woman I never saw
I saw you laugh when the knife was twisted
It still hurts but the pain has shifted
I’m looking back at the time that drifted by
But I won’t cry for the wasted years
‘Cause you ain’t worth the salt in my tears
Feeling neglected
Used and rejected
You need a shoulder to lean upon
Maybe you’ve picked him
Found your next victim
Don’t worry someone will come along
I broke the spell that you kept me under
I’d had enough of the rain and thunder
I lost track of the time and I wonder why
But I won’t cry for the wasted years
‘Cause you ain’t worth the salt in my tears
I’ll sit around and drink a few more beers
Until the memory just disappears
‘Cause you ain’t worth the salt in my tears

He’s engaged, by the way.

Poor woman. Looks like he found his next victim.
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To My Ex-Husband

letter-writer


To my ex-husband,

All I ever wanted was for you to love me until I was me again.

And I didn’t think that this was too much to ask.

I should have took more notice of the way you’d complain about wanting the old me back.

Where did she go? And I didn’t have an answer, because my mental illnesses took over and kept me their prisoner.

Do you realize just how paralyzing that was? I struggled so hard to be that old version of myself again, but it was a long battle, not to mention an impossible one.

I am mostly me again, but I’m certainly not the same old Merry that I was back in 2011.

Because I’m a stronger, updated version of myself now, partly because of the hell you put me through.

I read and hear from many sources that I need to forgive you, but that’s something that I’ll never be able to do. I will never wish you well, nor will I pray that someday you’ll see the light. That’ll never happen because you’ll never admit that you did anything wrong.

Your evil superpower is an ego the size of your ass.

You’ve caused me far too much damage for forgiveness to ever take place.

Because of your early subtle and then later insidious abuse, I have a persistent voice in my head that tells me that I’m not worthy of love.

That I’m not worthy of empathy and human kindness. That being mentally ill is something to be ashamed of, ostracized and mocked for.

I have a deep river of anger and hostility towards you. I wasted 15 fucking years of my life, the entirety of my 30’s, with a cold, heartless, lying, cheating son of a bitch. Those are years that I’ll never get back.

They are now all lost to the hands of time. All I have to show for those precious years is a greater understanding of how to detect an abusive person and then steer clear of them.

And I will not allow myself to be treated like human garbage ever again. I deserve so much more than what you were ever capable of giving.

What do I wish for you?

I wish that someday, when you become sick yourself and you’re scared shitless, that you end up alone in an ER somewhere, desperately hoping for some reassurance from your beloved that you’re not a miserable burden, better dead than alive.

Do you remember that day? That awful day when I tried to kill myself, but you couldn’t be bothered to follow the ambulance to the hospital to comfort me?

I still cannot wrap my head around it. What sort of human can do that to someone that they claim to love?

I suppose someone like you, because that’s exactly what you did. Such cruelty is absolutely disgusting and everyone that knows would agree with me.

My mother despised you, by the way. Your heart hurt when you learned that she passed away, eh?

Save the bullshit for someone who might believe you.

I hope that someday I run across your mind and you experience even the slightest twinge of regret. And if that day ever comes, I hope that you can feel my hatred for you over the miles that gloriously separates us.

I pray that your new soon-to-be wife wakes up one day to discover that you’re also cheating on her, because like you told me in a sad attempt to rationalize your deplorable actions, you have a sickness that makes you want to fuck as many women as you can.

Because of course, you’re the victim.

I really hope that she has the nerve and determination to kick you out of her home, just like I did.

Because of you, I have many years worth of therapy ahead of me. And I hope that each session, when I speak your name in an effort to finally redeem and recollect my sense of self worth, it burns your soul.

Whatever is left of it.

Your ex wife,

Merry

Good News

I have some good news.

What? (Is this Mer’s blog?)

laughing

I just had to borrow this, ES.

Drum roll, please.

I am now officially divorced. This means that I will never have to see his lying, cheating, nasty ass ever again.

It also means that once I receive the actual paperwork, I can legally go back to my maiden name, O’Leary.

I was so anxious about facing him from across that conference table this past Monday. It didn’t help that the magistrate was a condescending prick. But thankfully, I had my daughter sitting right next to me and with her comforting presence, I found the strength to withstand the intense patriarchal vibes that were bouncing off of the walls.

I started out tough and defensive, but there’s nothing that I loathe more than having someone talk down to me. It triggered all of the fuckery that I’ve dealt with over the years, so I started to cry.

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Damn you, emotions.

Right in front of asshat and that douche of a magistrate!

There were some words exchanged between B and asshat. She informed him that my mom had recently died rather traumatically. He had the fucking audacity to say that this knowledge made his heart hurt. He was so sorry because he had really cared about her.

How badly I had wanted to say that in order for your heart to hurt, you first need one to begin with. But I stayed silent. My daughter said later that he had been staring at me almost the entire time, but I had avoided making eye contact with him.

I wasn’t going to give him any extra fuel that he so desperately craved.

Once it was all over, the ink still fresh where we had signed our names, he stood up first and wished us well. He repeated his condolences about my mom. I just turned my head away and my daughter glared disgustedly at him. Getting no response from either of us, he turned around and left the room. We waited a minute or so for him to get a head start.

As we were walking down the long hallway, I looked up towards heaven and let out a tremendous sigh of relief.

“You’re free,” the kid said.

I smiled at her and wiped a stray tear away.

We both believe that my mom had been in that room with us.