Dealing with malicious and outrageous lies is just a small part of the various punishments you can expect to endure, when leaving a narcissist. But, you needn’t waste your time defending yourself against his lies. Not only will it prove to be an effort in futility anyway. But, also, because- with a pinch of patience and a little dash of faith- you’ll see that, eventually, in the end: The Truth Will Always Out.
[Check Out Part 1 of The Truth Will Always Out]
Part 1 ended with a very interesting phone call….
“You have to promise not to freak out, ok?”, my mother’s voice cryptically pleaded, on the other end of the line.
“Fine, Mom. Whatever… Could you, at least, tell me that no one is dead, or seriously injured?” I asked, already a little freaked out by the lack of any forthcoming detail.
“Everyone’s alive and healthy,” my mother assured me. Thank God. I could relax. Anything else, I could handle.
“So? What’s the big situation? Are you going to tell me?” I was getting a bit impatient.
“Your husband is in jail.”
My mother delivered the news as though she were, in fact, telling me that someone had, indeed, died. There was a long pause. Clearly, she expected…… more, from me, than complete silence.
But, what could I say? What was I supposed to say? I wasn’t the least bit shocked. In fact, since I’d found out about the meth, and the hookers…well, I knew it was only a matter of time, before my husband paid for his crimes. It had only been a question of ‘when?’.
After a moment, my curiosity got the better of me. “What’d they get him for? Solicitation? Possession? Stealing other people’s identity? Selling drugs? Manufacturing drugs? What?” I asked?
“Apparently, drugs were involved but, I don’t know any details. I talked to his mother and she says that he’s probably going to be in there for a long time.”
“Wait, what? She’s not going to bail him out? No fancy lawyer for him, on this one?”
“Come on, now.” My mother chided.
I had just had to tell my kids that their Great-Grandmother had passed on. Now, I would have to be the bearer of bad news, once again.
What on Earth was I going to say to my kids?
I refuse to lie my kids. But, at the same time, what if my husband REALLY HAD been caught with his hookers (especially the dominatrix?!)?! There was no way I was going to explain that sort of depravity to my children. Shit… How was I going to explain ANY OF IT?
Not to mention, my kids are incredibly smart- and perceptive. Even more so, when it comes to stuff they want. Stuff, like all the toys the wrote down on their Christmas/Birthday Wish Lists. Almost all of which they didn’t get because, I just couldn’t afford it. Especially with “Super-Dad” refusing to help support his kids, financially- even AFTER he’d been court-ordered to do so.
My kids aren’t dumb. If they learned that their father’s charges were about drugs, it would not take them long (especially my younger daughter) to understand that drugs cost money. And, if daddy was using drugs, then he had to have been paying money for them. Their logical conclusion would be the same as any conclusion you, or I, would reach: He could afford to pay for his drugs (or whatever)…but, not his child support, to help take care of his kids. (Or help buy their Christmas presents)
Karma had just taught my husband a seriously hard-core lesson in, “Reaping what you sow”; She even added in a long-overdue lecture on “You had it comin'”, just for good measure… and I couldn’t even enjoy it.
I felt sick, just thinking of it all. I felt disgusted, and betrayed (all over again). I felt dirty, and used. But, most of all, I felt sadness, and pity, for my husband. And for my kids. A little for myself, too. It was all just such an unbelievably useless waste. The man had everything. And, he fucked it all up. Ripped and tore it all apart. For what? Only for his false pride.
It doesn’t get any more pathetic than that, folks. For sure.
I’d have to be the one to tell the kids about their dad. How to honestly explain to my kids, what their dad had done, where he was, and what would happen to him… BUT, explain it without having them hating their father, in the end? It seemed an impossible task. I was desperate to find the right words to say to my precious, already hurting, children.
As usual, my husband had left me to clean up his truly awful mess.
I was getting ahead of myself though. I still needed to find out if anyone was going to go bail him out. Or, if not, why? Obviously, I wasn’t exactly feeling super-magnanimous, at that moment. So, I just ignored my mother’s “Come on, now” comment, and just kept right on going.
“What? It’s a reasonable question,” I shot back, at my mom. “Apparently, spousal abuse, drug use, and child neglect/abandonment, were perfectly suitable activities, meriting a fancy lawyer. Why not this?” I demanded. I couldn’t help thinking to myself, He must have done something truly heinous, or something that’s going to cost a lot of money.
“Whatever, forget it,” I continued. “At least, there’s one good thing about this whole mess.”
“What’s that?” My mom asked, sounding truly curious.
“For as long as he’s locked up, I’ll finally be able to breathe.”
At last, the truth, about who my husband REALLY is, had come to light.
After a little bit of research through public record, I learned that my husband’s had been charged with almost a dozen felonies (1st & 2nd degree). His crimes ranged from possession of marijuana & paraphenelia, to possession of meth & paraphernalia, ID Fraud for the purpose of purchasing a Federally Controlled Substance (sudafed), in order to (his final charge) drum roll, please manufacture methamphetamine- using the disassembled METH LAB he’d tried to hide under his bed.
Every arresting officer requested the judge set a high bail amount. Their reasoning: they’d already arrested him, just three days prior and, upon release, he promptly resumed his criminal activities. In addition, he refused to take responsibility for ANY of his actions- even though they had many security tapes documenting those very actions.
And, so, his bail was set, originally, at $60,200. I could see why he was still sitting a cell. They did eventually lower it to $20,000. Still, no one bailed him out. No one has called him. Or, answered his calls. It seems I’m not the only one who can see through his mask anymore.
I hoped that, finally, people would understand why I’d acted the way I did.
I’d hoped they would understand why I refused to leave my husband alone with the kids. Why they were never allowed inside his house, without me. They’d finally GET why I insisted on supervised visitations and the kids’ having limited exposure to my husband.
I dared to hope that they could, maybe, even see that I never wanted to fuck up the kids’ relationships, with their father. (He did that all on his own). I LOVE my children FAR MORE than I dislike my husband. And, at one point in time, a relationship with their father, would’ve been in their best interests. So, that is what I wanted for them. End of story.
In the end, I never needed to defend myself, or explain my decisions. Once my husband was arrested for abusing meth, and for having a meth lab (I’m not even going to talk about the parade of prostitutes), in the very same house he wanted our kids to live in, full time, “so they could have a stable, healthy life”, I’m thinking it must have become pretty damn hard to argue with my choice, to refuse my husband’s repeated offers of “50/50 Shared Custody”.
Once the truth came out- and it WILL ALWAYS out- the only people who could continue judging my actions to protect my kids, would have to be as insane as my husband.
Thankfully, my children have regained, at least, some of their familiar family members.
We’ve lost so much; all of us. And, my children are the innocents in this. I pray that reconnecting with some of the family, from their father’s side, will help ease the blow of losing him. Even if just a little. Hopefully, It shows them that not everyone will turn their back on you, abandon you, or withdraw their love, for the sake of such petty things as pride.
At least, I hope it teaches them that. Frankly, It wouldn’t hurt for me to see a little of that, too. Hell, maybe we all need that reminder, from time to time.
As for the divorce, I’ve got a lot to think about now. See, I knew my husband was addicted to meth, and trying to make it/sell it. I knew he was cheating on me…and often, with prostitutes. I KNEW these things but, I didn’t have solid, irrefutable proof. Now, I do.
Sadly, “knowing” something, and “having proof” of something, are two very, VERY different things.
And, as it turns out, the latter hurts much worse. Probably because, once you have proof of a thing, it becomes real. Before that, you can still hold on to that tiny glimmer of hope, that you were mistaken. After proof, there’s no more hope. Not a single glimmer. Nothing.
Having evidence of my husband’s unbelievable immorality, depravity, and misogyny, makes it undeniably real. And, a dangerous threat to the safety, health and well-being of my children. Not to mention, a permanent one- since narcissists and psychopaths won’t heal.
It was in that moment of obtaining proof, that I also learned a person’s heart can break, literally, an infinite number of times. Even after you’d thought it’d been shattered beyond repair.
~The Narcissist’s Wife