Monday, January 4, 2010


Sometimes on a family blog too many family members read it and you can't really say what you want to say. I am feeling that my writing is being compromised because I cannot say what I really want to say much of the time. So here goes, letting it all out, as in airing out the dirty laundry.

I wrote this letter to my husband in August, but never gave it to him. It's not pretty, but go ahead and read it.

Dear JackAss,

I can’t continue on in our 1/2 assed marriage. 15 years. Is it normal to ponder divorce at least once a year for the past 12 years? I remember when oldest was born and thinking at some point, well at least I have her, if we got divorced.

You, in many people’s eyes, are a great guy. You bend over backwards to help people out. You’ve given people money, places to stay, lobsters, fish, jobs etc… It has gotten to the point, however, where you have forgotten about your family. And I don’t mean your parents, because you are always doing stuff for them and I don’t mean your brother because you are helping him, too. What I mean is me, oldest and youngest. How did we get last on your priority list? I work my ass off at our beautiful rental house every weekend in the summer when new renters come in. I take the trash to the dump, I mow the lawn, I put out the welcome basket, I do the sheets while Roxanne cleans the house…. I look longingly at the house and wish we still lived in it. But we don’t because we need the rental money. I will admit, it was my idea to rent the house in the summer. We live in a summer area and rich people spend stupid money to rent places for their vacations. The money that we make every summer is the amount that I would make if I had a full time job.

Our house, the one you were in the process of buying when I met you, is falling apart. It has needed work for many, many years and it just wasn’t a priority. Well it has gotten to the point where I am ashamed to live here. Trust me, I am very patient, actually to a fault, and my patience has run out. The dishwasher is broken. The washing machine is broken. The tub upstairs has been leaking for a month. The lawn has not been mowed since the 3rd of July. The curbside appeal is nil. Oh, yeah, and we have carpenter ants. How do you not see this shit? Or how can you ignore it? Even the girls are embarrassed to have friends over.

But the barn looks great.

Thank Heavens.

I remember when you were in one of your bouts of depression and all you did was work, sit on the couch and watch tv and sleep. You were bored. We had at least oldest by this point. I think I last uttered the word bored when I was 13. I told you to get a hobby. Go back to running like you did in HS. You chose horse back riding because oldest wanted to try it. She was 4. You used to do it when you were little. “Great idea,” I said. There was a farm down the street. Oldest loved it, youngest loved it, you loved it, I was happy that you guys loved it. The only problem was, I am highly allergic to horses. Like I said, I am patient to a fault. If horse back riding was something you guys loved, then I was happy. We bought the girls a horse for Christmas one year. Of course this horse was more suited to you because it was huge and they were little, but it was a start. You started helping Vi run the barn. There were issues with people at the barn, the town took the land back, you and Vi wanted your own barn where you didn’t have to deal with boarders, so we bought the piece of land next to our original house. That brought us up to owning 3 houses.

230 is the house that we built, that is huge
101 is the original house
67 is next to 101 and has a little house and the farm.

You decided that you were exempt from any town laws and didn’t bother letting the town know that you were going to house horses on the property. The town was not so happy. This wound up costing a buttload of money between building the correct barns, lawyers fees, etc. You set Vi up in the little house. You pay for her gas, electric, cable, water and don’t charge her to live there. She takes care of the horses. Sounds fair, right?

Let me explain this as simply as I can… You have a wife that makes you dinner, does your laundry, takes care of the kids, cleans the house AND you have a barn wife that takes care of your horses. What is it now, are we up to 10 horses? Oh and you, Vi and oldest just took one to the vet to the tune of $1000?

One of the most incredulous discussions we had this summer was “shockingly” over money.
Me, “I need some money for groceries and one of the girls needs something.”
You, “Jesus Christ, between you needing money and Vi needing money for this and that, I just can’t hang out peacefully anywhere anymore!”
What. The. Fuck.

So lately, if I am going somewhere and drive into the barn to let oldest know, I feel like I am intruding. If you are there and Vi is there it is like the 2 of you walk in 2 different directions AWAY FROM EACH OTHER. Do I think you are having a sexual affair with her? No, but others do. Do I think you are having an emotional affair with her? Um, YEAH. You two ride together, you 2 drive to shows with oldest and the other girls and stay overnight, you text, you talk, you probably know more about her than you do me. You are her go to guy when something is upsetting. Both of your names are on the business cards with hers on top.

I seem to remember you being JM’s knight in shining armor years ago. If she was in need of a crying shoulder, you were there. If you were both drunk at a bar, you were magnetically attracted to one another. The 2 of you disappeared for a bit at MY SISTER’S WEDDING. My sister gave you hell one night in our driveway while I was standing there. She said all the things I could not say. You dropped JM’s “friendship” like a hot pocket.

Then, there is the chronic depression. OK, depression runs in your family. Your mom hasn’t realized it yet, but it does. OCD runs in my family. I go to a therapist, I am on medication that helps me. You are on medication that is barely enough for a fly, and you insist that it doesn’t work. Or maybe you realize it does work when you take it consistently and you are scared to take medication for the rest of your life because it somehow makes you less of a man. All I know is that it helps you. It makes you the guy I fell in love with. You are relaxed, you smile, you remember that you have another daughter (you know, youngest, the one that is now scared to death of horses), you are generally fun to be around. When you are not on it, you are suicidal. I am tired of you threatening suicide. It eats me up inside. You are depressed. You do nothing, but work, sleep and watch tv.


I have given you so many chances, I embarrass myself. What has been holding me back from divorcing you?
*The fact that we are up to our eyeballs in debt.
*The girls.
*What other people will think. That’s a doozy right? I shouldn’t care what other people think, but part of me does. People see you as a great guy. It’s at home where you are not such a great guy. You don’t hit me, or yell at me, or even hang out at the bars at night. It’s what you are doing to my insides that people can’t see and that I don’t feel like explaining. How does it look when I say the guy who has graciously let me stay home and raise 2 beautiful girls, taken us on vacation to Disney a bunch of times is really depressed, doesn’t give a shit about what I do, doesn’t take into account that I am highly allergic to horses, tells me that maybe he’ll just end it anytime I bring up a touchy conversation….
*The fact that you will get the girls for visitation. Fine for oldest, she will happily ride horses with you all day and night, but what about youngest? She is afraid of the horses and has so many other interests that you often don’t get.

Irregardless of those facts, I don’t see another option. We have tried repeatedly to get this to work and it just isn’t. Your promises are not worth a grain of salt anymore. We have grown in 2 different directions and that happens, but it’s time to break the bond.

I did wind up giving him this letter after I finally left on October 1st. The affair that I denied to the nth degree? Yup, it was real. That's a whole' nother post.

Welcome aboard!


  1. I'm glad you have an outlet. :) I look forward to reading and continuing to support you. (well, not financially, but you know what I mean. haha) xoxo

  2. Powerful letter. I am so glad you ended up giving it to him. Sometimes it's a hell of a lot easier to get a point across when the person can actually read it and REREAD it.

    I am so proud of you for starting this blog.


  3. {{{{{{{{{Sue}}}}}}}} I know it probably hurts like hell, but you definitely did the right thing by leaving. Where are you and the girls living now? Does he really ignore your youngest?

    Your situation is a tiny bit like mine, in the fact that other people see my husband much differently than he actually IS.

    Well, I'm glad you started this blog. I think it will be good for you!!

    Justine :O )

  4. I bet it felt good to unload all of that. I'm glad you did. You shouldn't have to live with that. Unmedicated depression SUCKS. You did the right thing.

    Thanks for the bread crumbs :)

  5. holy shit.

    And you know what? I have a letter like that stashed away as well. I think we have much more in common than I thought. Unfortunately. I am very proud of you.

  6. I'm with Vodka Mom...holy shit. And I'm sorry that you had to go through that and be forced to make a hard decision like that. But I'm proud that you found the strength to tell him, and to do what is right for you and the kiddos. Big hugs, lady, big hugs.

  7. It's good to get all this out. Even if only here. Bottling it up will only hurt you in the end. You can make it through this, and we'll be here to help.