I Didn’t Sell His Stuff – Confessions of a Sinner

This whole experience is such an emotional roller coaster– even this far out. Y’all,  I was chastised for using the word exhole on social media post recently. Before I go further, I get it– it’s a play on words and too close to the word “asshole”– I am not upset that the group moderator asked me to edit my post and not to call my ex names in the group. It is a Catholic group and I  understand the want to keep it clean and I understand the universal call to holiness, etc.  I do strive to be holy, even if one cannot see it in my blog writings. Jesus felt every human emotion we have ever felt. Jesus himself was filled with righteous anger and overturned the tables in the temple and chased the money changers out with a whip. 

I have never proclaimed myself to be the best Catholic in the world, though I try my best to live my faith. Other people are probably better Christians than am I, no doubt.The struggle to be holy 24/7  is real. For instance, calling him an exhole is better than what I was REALLY thinking. I mean, after this last hospital trip and legal drama episode, I had to go to confession? Why? Because for the first time since pilot boy left, I envisioned throat punching him and choking him until he stopped breathing. Oh, I would never do it to him in real life because wasband isn’t worth my eternal soul or jail time.  I wanted to gouge his eyes out, kick him in the nuts and stomp on his bald head. I know what you are thinking, “WOAH, lady! You aren’t a good Christian AT ALL!”  I am human. I am sure that almost every woman whose husband left her –with or without a whore in the picture — has had thoughts of beating the daylights out of their ex.  I’m just brave enough to admit I had these thoughts. I get no credit for my restraint! Sometimes, it is better to cut people a little slack–especially if you don’t know their “story” or where they are coming from.  

After he left, every  time I cleaned a room, I would move a little more of  his stuff to the basement. Bit by bit all of his left behind possessions made it to the basement. When we didn’t have much food and I didn’t have a decent car, I sold *MY* stuff and not *his* stuff. I had people telling me to sell his stuff, to burn his stuff, or to leave his stuff in the driveway. I did none of those things. I admit that those thoughts did cross my mind every now and then. I told people that I wouldn’t stoop to his level. He stole from me, from my father and from my boys. The day he decided to partially clear the house, he gave me no choice about ANYTHING he took. He literally left like a thief in the night. He took the 55 inch TV that he, the boys and I bought by putting our Christmas money together. He summarily decided it was his and that was that. He took the lazy boy that was a house warming gift when we moved from Texas to Virginia. He just assumed it was his.  I showed great restraint in not selling his stuff when I needed to buy a decent car that could make the hospital trip through the mountains, too.  He easily left behind $20,000 in stuff that I could have sold to make ends meet. I made sure all of his stuff stayed safe until after the legal battle ended a year and a half later.

While name calling isn’t listed among the virtues, I think that the fact that I have done him no harm and did not destroy or sell any of his property at least shows I’m attempting to be a good Christian.  My narcissistic ex ALWAYS told me what an awful Christian he thought I was. He continued with this line—even when he was committing adultery! Pretty rich.  Just so anyone reading knows– I do strive to be holy. I fail. A lot. Not on purpose, of course. I am human and a work in progress.

A funny side note along the same lines  as this entry, a friend tried to set me up with this guy she knows. He didn’t like our use of certain expletives every now and then, saying it was disrespectful.  He did, however, feel that his use of the N word was okay.  He actually sent me a text saying that he never dropped the F Bomb, but did use the N word because it means blah blah blah…….<eyeroll>  Puh-lease. Dude, seriously? The N word is a billion and one times more disrespectful than any curse word that I have ever uttered.  He also liked to tell me about his sexual prowess–even after I told him that his sexual talk made me uncomfortable! Of course, I let him know how disrespectful it was to first speak to a woman in that manner and then to continue after being told it made said woman feel uncomfortable. . It didn’t go anywhere, of course. Not compatible.  As one last laugh, it turned out that this guy has a criminal record! Isn’t that nuts? The scripture verse about pulling the plank out of your own eye before removing the splinter from your brother’s eye comes to mind here. I don’t have a criminal record, by the way. 

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