This post is going to contain bad language -- please be forewarned.

i lost my shit completely yesterday.  Well, to be accurate I've been slowly losing it for you know twelve months or so, but it all came cascading down at once, and I ended up doing stuff that probably is not smart in terms of leaving a trail of evidence that will prove to a divorce court I'm a complete maniac.

Our mediation recently collapsed.  Actually, the mediator gave up on us.  For the better part of the year, I had declined to seek temporary support, on the theory that our divorce was going to be short and simple. As my husband imposed more and more conditions, I finally told the mediator I needed to move out, and I wanted temporary support because I felt we had reached a stalemate in our efforts to come to a long-term settlement.  She agreed with me, so we started trying to work out the support agreement, and my husband wanted to attach all kinds of conditions that were unrelated to support -- he wanted me to waive certain legal claims, and I felt that was inappropriate.  So that fell apart, too, and now we're going to have to go through a judge, which means I've wasted nearly a year -- and even getting the paperwork to my lawyer is forcing me to re-visit all these deeply painful incidents from the past.

So I've been crying a lot, uncontrollably, wherever I happen to be.

A friend of mine claims to be a medium, and she was holding a seance the other night, and she invited me.  It's not something I believe in, but on the other hand I needed to get out of the house.  So I was there with a dozen complete strangers, and something about the whole situation started to affect me -- not because I believe in calling the dead, but because I understand how hard it is to say goodbye to someone you've lost, and how desperately you can get to believe anything that might give you another minute or two or three with someone you've lost. So when my friend asked me whether there was anybody on the other side that I wanted to reach out to, I started crying uncontrollably, thinking about my best friend who'd died a couple of years ago.  I was maid of honor at her wedding, and she was the same at mine.  i know she wouldn't want to see me in pain like this, and I just couldn't stop crying.

So over the next, say, 48 hours I've been unable to stop myself from crying in the most inappropriate places.

Yesterday, my husband texted me that one of his friends is in town from San Francisco, with a bunch of friends, and they want to come over to our house before going out to celebrate Gay Pride.  He said he'd understand if I said "no" but I was thinking how bad he would make me look, behind my back, if I said I couldn't handle it.  I was thinking his lawyer would use that text to show that I was preventing my husband from having a normal social life, or something.  So I said, it's fine, the guy and his friends are welcome to come over.

Well.

It turned out to be about twenty gay guys.  In addition to the San Francisco crowd, my husband also invited the guy I'm not supposed to know he's been cheating on me with -- who is 20 years younger than my husband -- and who brought the partner he himself is cheating on with my husband, who is easily 20 years or more younger than him.  This kid had braces on his teeth.  He didn't even drink alcohol -- to be honest, I don't know whether he's even old enough to drink legally.  It was like my house was suddenly transformed into Fire island from the 1970's.  I was friendly for a while, but when I could graciously extract myself, I retreated into the house and hid in a spare room watching a baseball game on TV.  They stayed for over four hours.  At one point, I went out on the deck and sat apart as the sun went down, and two of these strangers came over.  One of them said, "I just want to ask you something ... how are you doing?  Are you okay?" and I absolutely could not hold it together at all.  I just couldn't.  I kept thanking him for just asking, and begging him not to tell anyone I was crying.

By about 9:30 at night, I was in the house watching TV and I could hear them clearing the dishes on the deck.  I heard them gradually leaving ... they knew exactly where I was, because I was across the hall from the bathroom they'd been using all evening, and the door to the TV room had been left open, but nobody even came in to say bye or thank me for having them over.  Finally, it got quiet and I went out -- the entire house was empty.  They were out front getting their Ubers and going out partying, and I assumed my husband was going to come in and speak to me after he'd said goodbye -- but he never did, he just went off with them to celebrate gay pride and left me alone in an empty pitch dark house.

I lost my shit.

I sent him about 15 or 20 toxic raging texts.  I asked him why he couldn't even walk in and thank me for being a good sport, under the circumstances.  I pointed out that it was really manipulative of him to put me on the spot, knowing that if I'd said I didn't think we should have these guys over -- it would be used in court as if I was denying him the right to have a normal social life.

He sent a couple of apologetic texts whining about how he didn't realize it was going to be so many guys, and blaming the one guy from San Francisco.  I texted back it wasn't that guy's fault, it was his own fault for not even coming into the room and saying good bye at the end of the evening.  But I really went overboard.  I just couldn't handle it. 

Then, I locked all the doors, knowing he wouldn't have a key with him when he staggered back at whatever hour.  That's gonna look great when his lawyer finds out.  There's a side door to our garage that's partially rotted out, and he had to break some additional panels in that door in order to be able to crawl through and get in.  So now he can tell his lawyer I forced him to break down a door.

I know I messed up here, but I am so hurt and so angry and so tired of holding in my emotions and trying not to blow sky high.  I just wanted to ruin his gay pride weekend.