I changed my mind. What? I’m a girl – I can do that!

So, I know that I said I wasn’t going to remove the pictures of my husband from my Facebook page, but I’ve had a change of heart.

So call me schizophrenic.

I got to thinking that he had tagged himself in all of these pics that I had posted and he had only tagged himself in the ones that included him or him and  the kids.  He left up two pictures of the two of us dressed to the nines because it made him look good.

It got me to thinking.  Did I really want my pictures to be used to make him look good to his girlfriend?

The answer?

An emphatic, “NO!”

So, I deleted all of the pictures that I had posted of him on Facebook.  All of the pictures where you could even make out it was him.  The only one I kept up was one of the entire family dressed up for Halloween.

Let him use that one.

I’ve already gone back to my maiden name on my Facebook page.  I’ve already changed my status on my relationship to “It’s complicated.” And I found that I didn’t want my Facebook page used to make him look good to some bitch that he’s banging when he’s supposed to be working or that he sends hundreds of text messages to every day.

I also untagged him in a ton of photos that he had tagged himself in.

*As an aside, if anyone can help me with keeping him from retagging himself, I’d appreciate the lesson.

I deleted entire albums (a big “sorry” to my friends that used to be tagged there).  I deleted entire events from our Facebook history.

Next week, I’m replacing photos in frames, cause I don’t want to see the pictures any more.

Pictures are hurtful. They remind you of good times that you had.  But, when all of that has gone sour and you think that all of the good times were a lie, why do  you want to look at the pictures?

Maybe someday I’ll look at them.  Maybe someday I’ll be ready to look at them again.

For right now, I’m scheduling some pictures to be taken of me and the boys so that I can take down those pictures in hallway.  The ones that he so callously pointed out to his mother saying that I could take them with me when I moved out.

Who’s waiting?

Tomorrow, I’m rearranging my bedroom and he’ll be moving into another room.  Tonight he moved himself out of the bathroom in the Master Suite.  Finally, I have a suite of rooms all to myself!  I feel like the Kardashians.  Not.

I know that his relationship is over and I want it to be over.  I’m ready for it to be over.  I can’t wait to move out.  But it’s still hard when I feel like I’m slapped in the face with these reminders all the time.

Like I said, I’m a really good ostrich and I’m very capable of lying to myself, thank you very much.

But this is one thing I can’t lie to myself about.  He doesn’t let me and I shouldn’t, won’t, let myself.

No matter how much it hurts.  No matter how hard it is to be forgotten.

I owe myself that much.  I’m stronger than that.  I just have to remind myself.

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Pictures hurt

So, this afternoon he was messing around on Facebook. If you’ll recall, his bitch mentioned that seeing pictures of me on his page “ruined the moment’ for her (Like I’m crying over that) and that she didn’t want him to delete the pics until he was ready.

You may also recall that he couldn’t figure out how to delete or untag.

When I came back downstairs (after a very satisfying nap) I went to his page and all of the pics of us from the Shore had been taken out of his banner.

I know I shouldn’t feel betrayed by this, because I’ve already picked out the pictures I’m replacing him with in the myriad of frames that I have around the house. But I do. It’s like another little death, another slap in the face.

Another reminder that the 16 years I gave him weren’t enough.

I still haven’t untagged him from the pictures on my facebook page. I won’t do that till the divorce is final.

Not because I want his face all over my page but because I want to ruin her moment.

Sometimes it’s not the big stuff that hurts the most. Sometimes it’s the little things.

It’s finished.

I’ve been going to school off and on for the last 20 years. I changed a major and then joined the military, got married, had a child, went overseas.  This is where I started my next round of college with an esteemed college in the northeast.  For the last 12 years I have been with this institution and I just completed my last formal essay for my bachelor’s degree.

This was no small feat.  Raising two children, having a husband that is gone a lot because of his job, moving houses because of his job – it takes out of a girl.  Add to this the fact that I am bi-polar and it makes it doubly hard.

I signed up for my last four classes this summer knowing that I could finish by tomorrow (Aug 21) and be done with the formal part of my education.  I have to test out of one class (somehow I missed taking a 200 level course) and I’ll be finished with my degree.

Then he asked me for a divorce.  It was completely unexpected, especially considering that just two weeks before we had taken a nice family vacation to the Shore and had made plans for the upcoming year and his retirement.  It caught me totally off guard.

I spent the next month in a tailspin and didn’t attend my online courses like I should have.  I finally bit the bullet (a big deal for me since I’m more like an ostrich) and emailed my instructors with what had happened.  They were all very kind and allowed me to submit papers late to make sure that I didn’t fail.  One of my teachers was kind of curt with me until I posted in the classroom some of what I had been going through.  She sent me an email saying that she was proud that I had stuck it out with all that was going on in my life.

To be honest, I’m proud of myself.

The work wasn’t the best I have ever done (the essays, especially) and I actually recycled some papers I had done a couple of semesters ago (something I had never, ever done in the past) but I was desperate to pass these classes.  If I didn’t pass, I didn’t finish and I would have lost my grant and had to pay back money.

Not an option.

So I busted my ass for the last two weeks, turned out somewhere in the neighborhood of 10 papers and got it all done on time.  I turned in the final paper yesterday at 11:35 p.m., a full 25 minutes before it was due.

I am rightly proud of myself.  If it wasn’t so late, I would have gone outside and yelled it to the heavens!

I may be forgotten, I may be in the process of getting divorced, but I am educated, by damn!

And that is something that I will forever be proud of!