All That Glitters

All that glitters isn’t gold … my old den

“Watch your thoughts, for they become words. Watch your words for they become actions. Watch your actions , for they become habits. Watch your habits, for they become character. Watch your character, for it becomes your destiny.”   ~Unknown

It pains me to write this. But, since it directly affects my writing, I felt it had weight here as well.

Obviously, you can tell by my last post (this is J.S.), there are some tough things going on in my life. When I wrote that post, my father had just been diagnosed with what is likely colon cancer (we still don’t know) and my grandmother was at hospice. She passed away saturday August 21st (date unsure).

But, I had no idea how drastically my life was about to change when we received the news that Saturday afternoon.

Late that night (technically Sunday morning) my husband of ten years (together eleven) … confessed that he’d been having an affair since at least April and that he was leaving me for her.

Let me state for the record that I had absolutely no idea at all that this was coming. At. All. And to be honest, I’ve never been in a darker place than right at this moment. I’ve never felt more lost, abandoned or rejected. The sound of his voice on the other end of the line is distant and cold–bizarre when you’ve been living with someone for that long and they change overnight. Or rather, you realize that you were living with a complete stranger.

We never fought about anything. We talked for hours about all sorts of things … turns out he was only telling me what he thought I wanted to hear. Sad when you consider that there wasn’t anything I wouldn’t have done for him.

I write about love because it means more to me than breath. I never saw myself in this position. I could never have imagined the kind of pain that I’ve been feeling since that Saturday a few weeks ago. It’s compounded by everything else that was already going on, but I sincerely would rather have lost a limb than have lost who I thought was my soul mate.

I would have tattooed his name on my arm that morning had you asked me to.

Why am I blogging about it? For several reasons. For starters, I need you guys to know where the hell I’ve gone. I haven’t been on FB lately, I haven’t blogged and I don’t want you to think I’ve fallen off the map entirely. The other reason is that this is going to affect the rest of my life and therefore my writing.

Right now, most of my stuff is in storage and I’ve moved back into my old bedroom. The dogs are with me. And stuck I’m in this weird state between feeling numb and being in agony. It’s an odd kind of waffling back and forth. One moment I’m shouting power ballads and feeling like I’m ready to kick someone’s ass—the next, I’m curled into a little ball wondering how I’m going to get to tomorrow in one piece. I’ve been told that this will get easier with time. My psychology background tells me this as well, but all of that goes out the window when it comes to my own life, which turns out I’d thought was some sort of exception to the rules of pain and suffering. That’ll teach me. I’m  done with the whole fortune-telling business. I don’t know shit anymore.

The only consolation–and there’s absolutely no fear whatsoever of him reading this blog post because he never reads anything I write, here or the published stuff–is that no one else saw this coming either. This shocked everyone who knew him. My parents are crushed because they loved him like a son. Our mutual friends are angry and hurt because it was an offense against more than just me, but against our tight-knit little crew. You royally screw one of us, you’ve screwed all of us. We’re a loyal lot. Needless to say, this did not go over well. Especially when you consider his timing and how little effort he put into trying to make good on his vows. He didn’t fail this marriage because failing indicates that you’ve tried. He didn’t even dignify what we had with fractional effort.

So, where do I go from here? What does this mean overall for my life? I don’t know. My father has major surgery in the coming weeks and I will be around the house to help my mother care for him, all while searching for a regular job with benefits. So much for writing full time … I will need to find my own health insurance. That doesn’t mean that I won’t be writing though … I have two books to write in the next 12 months. One is a total reboot of a book that’s already been finished and one is from scratch.

In other words, I can’t let this paralyze me.

So, if you’ve sent me messages and I haven’t responded, forgive me. I’m still learning how to breathe again. I’m working on it though. One breath at a time. One exhalation at a time.


38 responses

  1. My heart breaks for you and tears welled reading this post. No words or cyber sentiments can replace a real hug or a drink but know that I am cheering you on from where I sit while simutaneously kicking said douche-nozzle in the nuts.

    I hope for strength to hold you up when you cannot and for love to find your fragile heart once again.

    And I can only hope HE gets crabs.

    • I retract my wish for crabs to befall said douche-nozzle. I know how immature and inconsiderate that was. My apologies. Crabs can be cured with some meds and a comb. I hope he gets genital warts. There. I said it. And I am not sorry.

  2. Oh, my heart aches for you. I am sorry for your losses and it troubles me anyone would put such a woman like you through hurt.

    You know how to reach me if you want to talk.


  3. Have you moved back to Ohio then? If so, I think I might have recommendation for a job that is hiring. Send either me or Mary a msg on FB if you’re interested. In the meantime, you just take care of yourself.

    • No, I’m in Georgia still. But thank you for the offer! I wish I were in another city. That would be awesome. I was born in Columbus, OH but haven’t lived there since I was a toddler.

  4. When my son-in-law did to my daughter what your husband has just done to you, she was still nursing her youngest child. Their youngest child. You’ll get through this betrayal; people do. You’ll look back and realize it was one of the best things that ever happened to you. Don’t hit me. I’m telling you true.

    Now to the real troubles. I’m so sorry for the loss of your grandmother. We all know that we will one day lose our grandparents, and then our parents, but it still hurts like hell. Be there for your mom and dad. They need you, and you need to be needed. About a job, I can’t help except to point out that you already produce: you write.

    You’re going to be fine. Windblown, for a while, but fine.

  5. No one knows exactly what you’re going through. Many of us have learned that it is better to sleep alone that next to someone who will never know us. You gave, he took. There is no sin in giving. Retreat in to yourself and find that strength again…because the love you write about, sing about, dance about, scream in agony about didn’t come from him…it came from inside of YOU.

  6. Of all the blogs out there I subscribed to yours, and of all the blogs I’ve subscribed to I actually READ yous. I am so sorry to learn about all that you are going through, but the adage, “What doesn’t kill you will make you stronger” is true. I know this first hand, but I won’t overload your emotions with the details. God bless you. Whatever you do… keep writing. Your words are indescribably delicious. I enjoy feasting on them, as I am sure others do, too. 😉 Philippians 1:6 just came to mind.

  7. I’m afraid I’ve never been good at all with the “words of comfort thing” (something to do with that blasted Y chromosome, is my theory…), so I’ll just say that you’re in all of our thoughts and I know you’ll come through whatever life throws at you.

  8. I’m so sorry you’re having such a horrible time of it at the moment. Hang in there, do what you need to do to get through, and as you know, things will get better on the other side. Am sending lots of positive vibes your way – I figure you’ve had your three bad things, so it should pick up from now. Good luck with the job hunt, and settling into this new life. It might not be one that you ever imagined having, but I’m sure you’ll find your silver lining in time.

  9. I know we don’t know each other but I’m so sorry to hear about this. I really feel for you. I haven’t been through anything like this, but I know it has to be beyond hard. I’ll be praying for you and wishing you well.

  10. You will not only survive, you will thrive. I honestly do believe everything happens for a reason. Call me anytime. Puppy and Skooby love you! ❤

  11. Breanne,

    I’m so sorry you’ve been hurt.

    I believe your loved ones who have moved on are in a better place and finally free.

    AND, you are free of something that was not real … Now, you have the opportunity to find your true soul mate …

    Bless you on the rest of your journey.

  12. When I read this post, all types of dread hit me. My eyes watered; my stomach cramped up. I felt as though this was happening to me. But the truest emotion is that I felt like a child seeing a parent cry. You look up to that adult. You think they’re invincible, immortal, that problems can’t befall someone you automatically and intuitively admire that much. And then, when you notice them crying, you’re hit with this deep sadness. Like you wish there was something you could do, but you know there’s absolutely nothing.

    I wouldn’t wish these series of events on a person I hated. Jesus flipping christ….but you’re strong. You’re my idol, a person I will always look up to, and I know your strong heart and soul will get you through.

  13. I had just been thinking about you … wondering where you’d gone off to, how things were, and missing our recent chit-chat sessions. I don’t want to say, “I’m sorry,” because so many people do, but I am thinking of you and hoping things take a turn for the better for you, and sooner rather than later. If you haven’t lost my e-mail address in the ruckus, feel free to use it if you feel the need, for anything. If you have lost it, you can get a hold of me on facebook, twitter, or via the blogosphere. Hang in there, my new friend. Hugs from afar.

  14. I’m sorry, Breanne. I’ve been in that particular position twice. It’s scarring. Didn’t think I would at times, but I did survive and now I’m happy again. I like what gator1965 says here. “Free…” and “opportunity to find…” “Bless you” isn’t bad either. Well said, gator.

    Hopes, thoughts and positive vibes coming your way.

  15. My mind won’t stop churning out platitudes for you, Bree, and my heart won’t stop breaking. I’m so goddamn sorry, and I admire you, and of course we are all powerless to speed the time you need to heal, so we pour out love the only way we can from so far away, in words, knowing who you are, knowing that your soul is big and needs no glitter to shine, even in the dark, knowing now (and being surprised and disappointed) that Ben’s soul has simply proved too small, really, or shaped in some way too strange now to match yours any longer, but knowing that being flayed is not the same thing as shedding a dead skin, and being angry, and knowing so many things except what to say.

  16. And…although this might not be appropriate so just don’t approve it if so, Breanne, but karma will come to visit this woman, whoever she is, as well. Don’t ask me how I know this but I know it through and through. Do you think she will ever enjoy, truly enjoy, a single moment with him? She won’t, because she will never be able to trust him. As hard as she will try to push what he did to his wife out of her mind, it will always be there, in the back, along with the question, “Will he do it to me too?” And he probably will. Sooner or later, you can put money on it. That’s why you’re lucky to be free now. Because he probably always will do this. And she will one day feel a very similar pain to what you’re feeling now, but when she feels it, there will be a little niggling voice that says, “Yeah, but you know, you sorta deserve it.”

  17. Men are one thing, we could talk about that all day, but it really disturbs me when a woman is willing to do something like this to another woman.

  18. I am so sorry Bree. I can’t possibly imagine the pain you must be going through. With him and with what your family is going through as well. We are here to support you in any way we possibly can. Just remember, in those moments when you feel like you have no strength, there are those of us who are willing to share what little we have too. If you need anything, please, let us know.

  19. Hi Bree. Angie and I are thinking about you. I’ve told you in private but I’ll say it again here. I am so sorry.
    I know this is hard and it seems like the pain will never be over. I’m not going to tell you it will get better because that’s no consolation and it isn’t what you probably want to hear right now. But I will tell you what I think about you. You are one of the strongest people I know. You are kind, generous, brilliant, talented, beautiful, and a better friend than most people deserve. No, I’m not going to tell you things will get better because that is what you will find when it is time for you to find it. All I can do is tell you I’m always there if you need to talk.

  20. This totally sucks.

    Speaking for myself, let me say you are not alone. You have helped too many people with writing, including myself, to be alone. If you were here now I would have you a big hug and do what I could to help. I suppose this post will have to suffice.

    To be honest I had wondering we you had gone. Tragedy strikes us all the time; but when it does we dust ourselves off and start over. Hang in there. You are loved by many and if I can help just let me know how.

    Take care and do what you must to get thew this. When you are ready, we will all welcome back.

  21. I’m so sorry for you, Breanne. My thoughts and prayers are with you. I’ve gone through the trials you are dealing with with your father, with my mother and my aunt. I wish I had words of comfort for your poor broken heart right now, but I don’t, just my thoughts and my prayers and my love. Hang in there and know you are cared about out here by people you know and people you’ve never met.

  22. I’m soo sorry to hear this news:( i’ve emaile you a few toimes and now understand the silence. Just remember that you are a strong,beautiful woman and you will get
    through this in time. Cherish your time with your parents and use this pain in your writing. Your hubs doesn’t know what hes lost. Just remember your strength a
    s you go through your days. You have friends who love and believe in you. Imdefinitelly one of them.i just want you to know your in my thoughts. Love ya hun!

  23. You’re in my heart, my thoughts and prayers. So is your mom. If you want to escape to my back porch with a cup of coffee and a listening ear, I’m here.

  24. ‎”This being human is a guest-house. Every morning a new arrival. A joy, a depression, a meanness, some momentary awareness comes as an unexpected visitor. Welcome and entertain them all! Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows who violently sweep your house empty of its furniture, still treat each guest honorably. He may be clearing you out for some new delight. The dark thought, the shame, the malice, meet them at the door laughing, and invite them in. Be grateful for whoever comes, because each has been sent as a guide from beyond.”

    It occurs to me from time to time that we all watched you retreat from Facebook and other forms of superficial social contact–knowing full well you had your reasons–just before this storm struck. I’m not suggesting you had a premonition, much less that you were guided by some kindly, larger force to batten down what hatches you could, because what do I know about such things? But I marvel at your timing. And for your sake, I am grateful. To-you-for-you, if that makes any sense. Because maybe, just maybe, it gave you some extra space in which to absorb and heal.

    I see you smiling again. I like that.

  25. There are simply no words, even as a writer, to console or take away even the tiniest piece of your pain. But if I could, I would share it with you, as many others would. The first time I read your work, I knew you were destined for greatness. Are these words to pacify your ego, to make you feel better? Not as such. They’re truth. Let this not paralyze you, let this be a lesson, learn from it, and continue along your path.

    In the end, it is he, and not you who will suffer from this.

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