Today I got the email from the lawyer, designated for free divorce file review. It is nice that they provide that service, through a video conference. It was an important double-check to make sure that all the paperwork I filled out was accurate and complete.

The person I would like to thank most is Brent. My partner, having self-filed years ago, knew the ropes. And patiently helped me find, fill out, and process all the documents. Including accompanying me twice to the Austin courthouse.

Reciprocal things, or having things done for me out of kindness, is still a foreign concept. It makes me uncomfortable. I love to give, and I give generously. I help others when I can. But having people go out of their way to do something for me? It takes some getting used to. But I like it.

Two and a Half Years Waiting for Divorce

Some people divorce amicably. I did the first time, and we split the cost of the divorce lawyer we used. Paul was a classy person and gentleman. We both assumed the same expenses for the divorce. Which was fine with me.

I left my second spouse (let’s call him Einstein), and the house we sold, on May 27th, 2021. I remember the stress of trying to get him moved out. At the time, I didn’t know he was regularly using meth, but having found out after I moved, a lot of the pieces came together.

I purged and packed on schedule. Yep, I am one of those organized types when it comes to moving. I have moved too much in my life. I’d like to stop moving forever. There is a plan for that, that I am persistently working on, as I reclaim my financial stability after the post-divorce cleanup.

Two weeks after I moved to my townhouse in Austin, he was in a critical car accident. I am glad that there were a few people in his periphery who knew I was a good person done wrong. And they gave me the information I needed to protect myself from the addict. And if I am being honest, the malignant narcissist who manipulated me, and everyone around him, to serve his needs.

If I had not known that he tested positive for both cannabis and methamphetamines, it might have been a different story. You see, even though separated, an injured spouse can still legally get support from you. To the tune of $1200 per month, at my income level. For five years. And he did mention it until I informed him that an accident was one thing, but a DUI is negligence.

He was pretty surprised I think, to know that I knew. And read the laws thoroughly. Heck, I even sent him links. It would go something like this:

• He would claim disabled spousal support.
• We would go to court.
• I would explain to the Judge that while he was not charged at the scene with a DUI, hospital records confirmed he was “high as a kite” and driving. Which he did habitually, for the almost eight years I lived with him.
• He would face a reckoning because I could subpoena his medical records (as his spouse) for my defense. This would not only result in a denial of spousal support, it would result in a DUI charge and a whole world of trouble with the insurance company that paid his medical costs for him. Because they didn’t know he was impaired.

Checkmate. Asshole. I am eternally grateful to the people who advised me (there were three). Because that enabled me to protect myself from further financial siphoning. This conversation happened at the end of November when I was approaching the holidays and struggling with circumstantial feelings of deep depression.

Not regret for the divorce; utter self-loathing for ever marrying him and leaving Canada. In fact, the funniest thing he said in our final days, is that I married him only to move to America. Riiiight. I left behind a government job, a thriving side-business that was taking off, to end up broke and busted up in Texas. Mmkay.

Hospitalized and Forced to Sober Up

So while he was in hospital in critical care, he was busted twice for having one of his druggie buddies slip him in some drugs. What kind? Who cares! He is and remains, an unrepentant addict, with a criminal mind. The hospital did not involve the police. Again, he gets off scot-free.

While he was in the hospital, they had to reconstruct his leg. You see, not only was Einstein driving drugged, but he also failed to wear a seatbelt. So when he crashed his vehicle, he went flying through the windshield. All 340 pounds of him. And then the car rolled on his leg, crushing it to the point where they thought he would have it amputated. Thankfully (hey, I am not an asshole, he is) they were able to save the leg with multiple arterial transplant surgeries.

And then he went home to live with his mother and stepfather. Somehow, a story started filtering around that Einstein had an accident because he had a heart attack. That kind of lying probably came from his Mother, who is always desperate to make excuses for the fuck-up sons she raised. Trying to save face did neither Einstein nor his brother any favors. They are despicable human beings and serial manipulators and liars.

The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. I was forced to text his mother shortly after the accident when one of his friends was frantic to find them. Her text was not kind. My reply, before blocking both my former inlaws on my phone (sorry stepfather, what I said was honest and accurate), was equally unkind. It was simply a truth bomb, that your wife couldn’t hear.

But maybe she knows better now.

Seeing Him Post Accident = Zero Feels (Or Upset)

He remained in and out of hospital for surgeries. In the fall, I received a check in both our names (great). I found out he defrauded me on health insurance (kept the payment but didn’t pay the insurer) which resulted in a $2250 Labcorp bill.

Thaaanks! I felt the check should be mine but “broke as a joke” was sans money and fought me on it. He also threatened to forge my signature. Sigh. I had to email his retired Cop stepfather to let them all know, I would charge him with fraud if he did so.

So a friend and I went up to North Texas to co-sign, cash, and finish the last piece of money stuff that would need to be resolved.

He had no car. And could not drive. This is so funny… bear with me. I paid his friend $100 to pick up Einstein at home, bring him to the bank, and drive him home. Kind of me, right, to facilitate? Later I found out that the woman he was dating actually drove him. So Einstein’s partner in crime pocketed the $100 for nothing.

I should have expected that. Criminals the like, both of them. It was the last dime of money or gracious act either of them would see from me, for the rest of their lives. And the next month, Einstein’s buddy BEGGED to stay at my townhouse. Even offered to provide “the sex” he thought I needed. So nice of him, right? He wanted to cheat on his wife and pick up chicks in local bars, bringing them back to my house.

Again, not surprised. But I told him to fuck himself. And blocked him from my phone. Scumbag.

The Surprise of Wheelchair and Weight Loss

Einstein was in a wheelchair and looked like he had lost 200 lbs. Frail, and pale, he still did his hair nicely and was dressed well. Good for him! I fretted on the drive up with my friend, a cute bodybuilder and business owner.

I am not a mean person. But I am direct, and I was concerned whether I would be snide when I saw him. But honestly? Seeing the chair and the weight, I was overwhelmed with pity for him. He did it to himself. He had no one to blame but himself. But you can still feel empathy for serially stupid people who labor under the misconception that they are smarter than everyone else.

I was cheerful, kind, and polite. I am not bothered by the fact that the woman he was dating (who shortly afterward ditched him… hehe), was there in a vehicle waiting. I hope she saw me as I am. A kind, educated, professional adult. And maybe, seeing who I really was, was enough for her to realize he wasn’t worth keeping.

Or maybe she saw my muscled friend and decided she could do MUCH better. He is on a mission to find another woman who is educated and high earning, to take care of him. Because he is incapable of taking care of himself. And keeps sinking further and further into chaos and irresponsibility.

In my heart, I feel that he will either end up in an overdose fatality, or in a DUI where he actually does kill himself, or someone else. That worries me. The probability of his next DUI resulting in harming someone innocent. I wish he had been caught in the DUI.

I think the only thing that would turn his life around right now, is some prison time. But like his felony and misdemeanor drug charges in 2018, which timed out because of COVID and Court delays, he’s buttery and slips through the legal cracks. One day, his luck will run out. I just pray he doesn’t hurt someone else on his path of self-destruction.

I worry about that. Him hurting or killing someone else, quite a lot.

The Pieces of Truth Come Together

As news of his exploits continued to trickle to me through various sources, I started asking people to stop informing me. I didn’t care about him anymore, nor did I care to be in his business. I was working hard on my financial recovery. All of my proceeds from the house were used to pay off medical debt, and dental. Crowns are so expensive, jeez.

Some people called me to ask me if Einstein’s car accident was caused by a heart attack. I informed them that he had a heart attack due to arterial blockage a few weeks after he was hospitalized. Telling the truth seems to be a genetic challenge in his immediate family.

But not in mine. And I feel finally I can share SOME of the many lies and bad things Einstein did to me. As a matter of self-compassion and my healing (which continues). I feel pretty good most days now, because a bad relationship fades with time. But I have been holding on to these things for far too long, tiptoeing through the divorce. And now, this feels good to express my story.

The Hitchhiker and the Bag of Meth

His story: He was driving home from doing life insurance business in Oklahoma when he stopped for gas. And an older white woman was crying outside the gas station. He bought her a bottle of water and found that she needed a ride home, going south. He, remembering how his Dad used to pick up hitchhikers with compassion, offered her a ride.

He was then pulled over by the police, and the woman had a backpack full of Meth. She admitted the meth was hers, and no charges were laid against Einstein. But the whole experience shook him up.

What really happened?

Einstein drove to Oklahoma to pick up someone who was a drug dealer (and former convict for trafficking substances). Somehow, Oklahoma patrol either got a tip, or he was driving erratically. Either way, they pulled him over with a girl named Jessica, who had a backpack full of meth.

Interestingly, his brother and wife called me on my way into dental surgery, worried about Einstein (who as a criminal, persistently gets caught and never charged… to my chagrin). They told me he had a girlfriend named Jessica in Oklahoma. Still defending my spouse, I refused to believe them and called him right after. Naturally, he had to wait to call me back (police officers are like that). And gave me the story.

I read the charges of public record, Einstein.

The Meth Pipe In Our House

We lived in a low-income area and had worked on renovating the house. By we, I actually mean, I paid for renovations including a new roof. He contributed nothing but complaints when he had to pitch in. Lazy and stupid are not my favorite combination.

Anyhow, our neighbors had two felons for kids. And they were frequent drug users. One day, I found this weird glass pipe. It had a ball or globe at the end of it. I had no clue what it was, and I wasn’t going to touch it. When he got home, I told him. He picked it up.

On the lawn, right beside where he parked his truck on the streets.

He brought the pipe into the house and told me it was used for meth and seemed to have some substances in the pipe. I had no clue. So I freaked out and told him to put it in a ziploc back smash it, and throw it in the garbage. He headed to the garage to do that.

Three days later I found it in the door of his desk, in the children’s room. And a big fight ensued. But never once did I think he was smoking meth. Again, I trusted him. I thought he was going to do something stupid like show a friend. It never ever occurred to me.

The Text to His Cousin Brad

I’ve changed the name. It was the same name as one of his friends that we liked to go fishing with. When Einstein was in the shower, his phone lit up with alerts. He asked me to check it and gave me his passcode.

I opened the wrong Brad conversation thread.

To my delight, I read about five pages of Einstein bragging about the older woman he was having sex with. The side chick apparently was wild, and okay with him being married. Much detail in the kind of sex acts they did together (which astonished me because, while I wish to be polite, he was not particularly aerodynamic or fit). I had a moment of quizzical pondering, knowing he was out of breath every time he brought in the groceries, FFS.

My favorite part of the text conversation was when he said:

“I have the best of both worlds. A nerd chained to her desk making me money, and a hot side chick”.

The nerd (aka: me) fell out of love with him that day. I think that was when the bubble finally popped inside my heart, and my brain started to see every red flag I had ever ignored. He was a piece of shit, but so was I for accepting that behavior. Even indulged him, working so hard to provide the best things I could for him and my stepsons.

But that text conversation gave me the emotional sobriety I desperately needed, to get out of a disastrous marriage, with a complete and utter loser. I still hate myself a little for waiting as long as I did to get the ball rolling. It hurt a lot, to be that wrong. And I had to reconcile that within myself and acknowledge we were done before I could get the ball rolling.

And I did.

Stealing the Boat Insurance Money

I bought a boat and paid a lot of money to one of his friends to fix it up. And then a mechanic to boot. We had a few good months riding around on the lake with the old but wonderful little boat. It was my attempt to make the kids happy, and maybe, get us out of the house and see if there was anything left that could be salvaged.

I transferred him the money for annual insurance. Over $500, after he made me feel like shit in a room full of folks at the marina. Wow, he executed that so skillfully. Like a Grade A criminal.

“Lori, I am AN INSURANCE PROFESSIONAL! And I am the man. LET ME HANDLE THIS! You are always taking control of things and this is something I should be doing.”

I was upset and embarrassed at the confrontation in the crowded room. And felt, wow, am I that controlling? Why don’t I trust him with more things? Maybe he is right. So I transferred the money and he said he would get a certificate in the glovebox of the boat.

Which he did. But what he didn’t tell me is he pocketed the money and set up a payment plan. So he could use the money I gave him for drugs. I had no clue. There we were bopping around the lake with no insurance. Because he is a serial liar.

If ever there was a moment of metaphor for our whole relationship after 2016, it was this sinking ship.

Well, somehow, in his many trips midday on the lake, drinking with his buddies instead of being at work at his Uncle’s insurance company (it went under quickly), he didn’t dock the boat correctly. And it sank. Sort of. It was held on by bow and stern ropes to the dock vertically with half of it in the water.

It was okay though, because I had paid for $5000 insurance coverage. And the insurance policy would separately cover reclamation costs and the water environmental cleanup. Except Einstein had let the monthly payment bounce on his ever-empty checking account. And we in fact, had no insurance.

I lost it. Understandably. Then, a sheepish Einstein came upstairs and was looking for my support. Or rather, looking for me to financially clean up yet another mess:

Einstein: “So, uhm, there is definitely no insurance coverage. And the marina is going to charge us $1,700 to float the boat to the dry dock and clean up the oil and gas. So they need a debit card and will set up monthly payments”.

Me: “Great. Give them your card.”

Einstein: “What?! You know I can’t pay for this!”

Me: “Welp, I guess you will need to figure it out with them. This is your fault. Clean up your own mess with YOUR money.”

Speaking of Money

What do you get when you cross an uneducated, serial liar, who had one job his entire life (working for family), who bragged about pissing away the $500k he received from his late father’s life insurance policy, and still had no vehicle paid off, no house, no furniture, savings, or anything to show for it?

Yeah. I know. What the fuck was I thinking.

Fun fact, both Einstein and his brother did the same thing in under four years of partying, before returning to Texas broke, to sponge off their Mother. But they told their mom and stepfather that they split $500k. Not $1million. The stepfather (who is a great human being) found out from me, in February 2021.

Lies. Lies. Lies. The dysfunction and dishonesty predated me. I just didn’t grasp the true story at the time. Particularly since Einstein was an A+ narcissist, who gaslit me constantly, and made me believe HE WAS THE VICTIM. The whole world picking on Einstein who lost his dad. And I bought it, hook, line and sinker.

Things I paid for?

• Mortgage and 100% of the rent prior to buying the house (and insurance).
• Groceries. All of them. All the time.
• Gifts for the children and his entire family.
• House repairs, appliances, renovations, everything.
• Constantly provided spending money to him.
• Food and alcohol, anytime we socialized or there was a gathering.
• School supplies and clothes for the kids.
• All the pet supplies, and veterinary bills.
• My car, repairs, and insurance.
• My share of the cell phone plan.
• All the new furniture, dishes, appliances, etc.
• Immigration fees and costs.
• The entire wedding.

Every trip I made to Texas, I paid for. And bought groceries because, aside from cat food, and tortillas, there wasn’t anything in his cupboard. Later, I gave him a “job” that took about 15 minutes per day, and sent him $400 per month because I was worried he didn’t have food for the kids.

True story. Ask my Mom or Diane.

And when I couldn’t go into the USA (flagged by frequent trips by border control), he flew in to see me. I paid for that too. Every. Single. Damned. Time. This man’s wallet came out for nothing but drugs. I still remember him desperately searching for a weed dealer as a priority, within two hours of landing in Detroit. Again, red flags I chose to ignore.

But he had a full-time job. Yet he never seemed to have money. I think this is an important piece of the puzzle people should know, when in a relationship. If someone makes decent money, and they are always broke, unreachable by text or phone frequently, and not really putting in time at the office when they say they are? They are probably an addict. Get out.

So what were the things he paid for?

• Utilities.
• Internet.
• Cable (had to have the sports package).
• His truck payment, repairs, and insurance.
• His massive credit card debt (which predated me).
• His clothes and shoes.
• His phone.

It was only after we separated that I began to wonder, where did all his money go? True, I made twice what he earned, but he was literally broke the whole time I knew him. The moment came when I realized, that he blew his money as he saw fit. Because I was paying for everything else. He had breakfasts and lunches out with his buddies often. And then, well, you can guess where most of his money went.

Einstein Versus Chase Bank (Ooopsie!)

In December of 2019, I told him I wanted a divorce. Rather, I told him we were getting divorced, and I was done with the relationship. He was impaired when he left our house in a rage and drove to the nearby Oklahoma casino.

That night, he ran up $2700+ in overdrafts on an account he thought was mine. I was smart enough to NEVER share a credit card or joint bank account with him. Despite being pressured several times by his brother and mother. HELL NO! At least I listened to my inner voice and kept my financials separate.

I didn’t have a card for his account even for emergencies because, seriously, Einstein was the eternal broke as a joke human. Even with me paying more than my share of the bills and expenses.

It turns out, that Chase Bank did not hold me accountable, after I met with them at a local branch. I got that settled in 2022, as I continued to dig out from my medical debt. But I relish the look on his face when I corrected him, that he had, in fact, overdrafted his own account. #HazSmart.

The next morning he read a letter with the sweetest voice. Apologizing. Again. But I was numb to him at that point and frankly watching him overdraft his account by almost three grand? All that did is convince me my decision was correct. And I moved ahead with no guilt, to separate myself in all ways from him. As soon as possible.

You Deserve Better Than Him

Word on the street is that Einstein got himself into more legal trouble, the second he got money in his hands (he lives on disability and received retroactive payments) and a vehicle. I don’t pray for his recovery anymore. He is a lifelong addict that started using drugs when his brother introduced him to pot at age 14. He will never, ever, change.

I pray that he ends up in jail. Hear me out, it is not as malicious as it sounds. I have dreams that he kills a family in a car wreck, over and over again. I went to therapy for a spell, and was diagnosed with PTSD. I naturally disagreed with the diagnosis, because I believe I am stronger than what I experienced.

One thing echoes in a positive way, every now and then when I think about my life after I moved from Canada. And all the fun (not), great memories (none), and sense of care and security I experienced (HAH!) after marrying Einstein.

The other “Brad” said: “He’s a piece of shit. You deserve so much better than him.”

And he was right. By that time, I was already on my way out. I gave him 14 months to “get his finances in order” and ready to rent his own apartment after the house sold. He did nothing but beg, plead, and when he found that the answer was still “NO” he became erratic, and abusive. Meth will do that to people, I now understand.

I’ve never known a methhead before. *shrug*. And anytime friends would tell me he is doing “bars” which I came to learn meant prescription drugs (opioids, Adderall, etc.) I never believed them. Loyal to a fault. But the fault ended up costing me heavily, financially, and emotionally.

When the Scripts to Get Money Stopped Working On Me

What gives me joy, and makes me chuckle now, over two years later, is how offended he was at the word “NO”. Constantly “I need money” and my reply “figure it out” was painful to him. Suddenly, the reality of his lifestyle post-divorce hit him.

The ATM machine, and “nerd working her ass off to make money” was done. I choked off any funds I used to give him, but continued to pay the mortgage and keep the house full of groceries. I even bought him stuff to pack his lunch since he was “broke”.

This was one of my favorite memories of mid 2020:

Einstein: “Hey do you want to go to the casino tonight?”

Me: “Nope.”

Einstein: “You deserve to get out. You’ve been working hard.”

Me: “Oh, you have money to take us to the casino and dinner? Well, that is a nice treat. I will get dressed.”

Einstein: “Well, no, I don’t. But I have two free buffets.”

Me: “Okay, let’s go get the free dinner and then come home. I’m not wasting any money at the casino.”

Later, at the Chocktaw Casino in Durant Oklahoma:

Einstein: “So, what if you just withdraw like $200 and we can play on that and go home.”

Me: “I said I wasn’t gambling. If you are done eating, we can head back.”

Einstein: “You never want to do anything fun!” [Feel that manipulation? So did I].

Me: “I left my bank card at home.”

Einstein: “You can advance a credit card.”

Me: “I left my credit cards at home too.” [I didn’t, fyi]. 😉

Einstein: “Well we can run home and get your wallet and come back.”

Me: “Nope. Let’s go home. If you want to come back and hang out with your friends you can on your own dime. But I am not wasting money. And I am not giving you any spending money, ever again.”

I will remember the look on his face, with great satisfaction for a long time. That was the moment, that I came fully back into my power. When I was “me” again. When I began to put myself first.

It was then that he realized he was not going to get any money out of me. The manipulative scripts no longer worked. I had been hospitalized with life-threatening conditions three times in the previous 2.5 years. And I will be honest with you, there were times I wasn’t sure I was going to beat Sepsis. I even had a dream of my Grandfather, and thought “Oh fuck, I am going to die.”

In December 2019 I took on extra work and busted my butt, to pay off things. Then in 2021, I got a new car (removed his name), a new cell phone account (he took the money I gave him, and then I still had to pay the bill after our phones were cut off). Seemed like a good time to separate cell plans, yeah?

Yep.

He rarely tried for money. When his truck was stolen from the Casino after one of his many all-nighters, he needed $50 to get a rental car. A deposit was required by the insurance company.

Einstein: “Fuck Lori! I need a car to get to work. It’s $50 dollars.”

Me: “Ask your friends or your parents, I don’t know. I am not giving you shit.”

Einstein: “You are the biggest f*cking c*nt”. [Darlin’ you say the sweetest things when you get declined].

The truth is my direct deposit had not landed due to a long weekend shift in schedule. And I had just paid a $1800 downpayment on my Austin townhouse, to secure the lease. I did have some in my account though. I chose to hit him with the reality of his delusions of grandeur.

/Sugarmomma out!

A Year of Victories

Did I mention I am insanely proud of myself? In 2023, I set some lofty financial goals. To dig out from certain things that were impacted by the time I spent in the Einstein chaos. I moved in with my amazing partner, who is the most incredible, strong, patient, honest, talented, responsible, and loving man I have ever met.

Thank you, God. I gave up, but You smushed us together knowing we would flow so well. I love and appreciate my partner more than words, and every day is a warm and loving experience, thanks to living with someone who is an equal. In all the ways that matter. (I still can’t play guitar though).

I traded in a SCRUB and was lucky enough to bump into a real man, who I love more than life. One who doesn’t ignore me at gatherings or social things. One who loves to have fun, but is responsible and mature. A wonderful father, friend, talented musician, and IT dude. Yes, thank you, God, for B. I hit the jackpot and I know it.

My goal was to put $5,000 into savings. And despite unforeseen financial setbacks (I lost my job… that was fun), I have completed three incredibly big things this year. The divorce from Einstein was one of them.

What You Did For Me After We Separated

Narcissists never want to read what you write about them. I dated one prior to him. They will also try to prevent you from telling the truth of the story. They lie, spin, and twist the details to make the person they betrayed and hurt look like the bad guy. And they NEVER want anyone in their circles learning the truth, because, well, then they would be busted for being the serial liars they are.

What you did for me after we separated, Einstein, was give me the biggest gift. Validation. Because while your lies about me were impressive, your constant knack for driving impaired (DUI), and getting into legal trouble have stacked the evidence in such a way, as I feel completely exonerated.

I know that’s a big word for you… it means, free.

Because everyone paying attention has such a clear and unobstructed view of who you really are, it’s kind of hard to think of your faithful, hardworking, generous, kind, and honest former spouse as the cause of your downfall. She’s happy, and doing well. 🙂

Thanks for clarifying who the despicable fuck-up was in that marriage. For anyone naive enough to believe your narrative. I really appreciated that transparency and course correction. I didn’t have to defend myself against the gossip; I just had to wait for them to see who you really are.

I mean, even I was shocked, and continue to be shocked by your downward trajectory. For the love of God, you just cannot fly straight, no matter what. Or do life sober.

I don’t wish bad things on anyone. I like my good Karma. But Einstein is living his karmic comeuppance out loud. And I believe he will continue on that path until he spends time in jail. Honestly, I think it would be the best thing for him. When I bailed him out after 24 hours he was crying.

Yeah. I remember that too. Bailing out a husband was a new one for me.

Truth always floats to the top. Sometimes, the hardest thing you have to do is wait and let the truth reveal itself. It hurts to have bad things said about you. But now I consider that anyone that believes his bullshit is a victim too.

I got the email today that the divorce decree was sent to the Judge. When I get that official copy, I am going to frame it in something hilariously cheerful. And cherish leaving behind Einstein in the rearview mirror as a stressful, dark, horrible mistake I once made.

But I had to laugh in an email in 2022 he sent me. We exchanged some information for the divorce. And out of nowhere, I get a single line: “I know why you divorced me, I wasn’t mature enough for you.”

K. Go with that. I laughed so hard when I read it, I had to run to the bathroom.

Divorce tastes so God damned good when it’s done.

Later Einstein.