(If you haven’t read my posts from beginning to end before, please read this one. Please, share in my healing, my joy, and unfortunately, the most excruciating pain a person can endure. Please share on your blog, your Facebook or Twitter page, or email.
Thank you.)****************
Mess around and cheat on a musician, they’re going to write a sad song about it. Betray, lie, and cheat on a writer, well, they’re going to write a tell-all true story about it. (He wanted “to be seen in public.”)
Toni Armenta Andrukaitis
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Divorce’s most brutal battles are fought in the mind-not in the courtroom. If you’ve had a long-term marriage, you tend to look back on all those years and you feel that you’ve wasted your entire life. It appears at first glance that you have more years behind you than ahead of you. You think, “What a fool I’ve been to have wasted my youth on such an unworthy or, worse yet, such an untrustworthy man!”
Kari West is the author of Dare to Trust, Dare to Hope Again: Living With Losses of the Heart. She maintains a grief recovery and divorce care website atwww.gardenglories.com.
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Today, August 23, 2015, is the one year anniversary of me moving into my new house, and starting my new life. A time for celebration? Perhaps. BUT, it also would have been my fortieth wedding anniversary. That never happened.
Tony Andrukaitis and I were married on August 23, 1975, forty years ago, and our divorce was finalized on August 20, 2014. Yes, we were Toni and Tony, Antoinette and Anthony, the high school sweethearts and happy couple that met in 1970. We were together forever. Those are all bitter-sweet, murky memories now.
I found this photo on my son’s Instagram page from an old entry.
Betrayal and pain can fog up your brain, and those beautiful memories and faded photographs are just constant reminders of …I’m not sure of what. I can’t think about it.
One thing I do know is, I’m a writer, and a darn good writer, and I’m going to tell my story. I’ve been writing and journaling as long as I can remember. It varied from a single daily entry on a calendar page, to long narratives about events, trips, or celebrations. When we moved to McKinney, Texas in the fall of 2004, I started a daily journal in a navy blue spiral notebook, and eleven years later, I’m still writing in that same notebook.
July 11, 2013
Zumba, got sick, called Dr., Y (Y stands for Tony) drinks with the guys Henry’s. (OUT) ( he wasn’t with the guys )
One line for one day that will live in infamy. I confronted him about his affair 7/11, when he came home drunk, yet again, stumbling to his chair, petting the excited dogs.
I said, “You weren’t out with the guys. You were with her!”
His reply was, “You’re crazy. What are you talking about? Where is this coming from?”
What he didn’t know was, I had uncovered everything. As he kept lying and digging a deeper hole, I recorded the entire conversation on my phone. He didn’t know that I knew the other woman was Debbie Causey, the waitress/cart girl at his country club. I had hotel confirmations, photos, disgusting emails, and phone records from many months. The sequence of events that followed were devastating. At first I was in denial, then I was numb, then I was in pain, ending up in the emergency room with chest pains after seeing my doctor for STD testing. Long and short, I survived, but the marriage didn’t. It couldn’t be repaired, nor did he make any effort to do so.
During one tearful heated argument in the Starbuck’s parking lot, he said in a booming voice, “Just sign the damn divorce papers already.” I asked him what was his big hurry. He said, and I quote, “I can’t be seen in public!” Through my muffled sobs, I had to laugh.
“What do you mean you can’t be seen in public? Do you think a signed piece of paper is somehow going to change what you’ve been doing all these months? You didn’t have any trouble going to bars, restaurants, and checking into hotel rooms!”
He wanted to be seen in public. Well, now he can be seen in public. He has his divorce, he’s shacked up with the waitress, but what he doesn’t have is honesty, integrity, or the respect of anyone who knows what he has done and what he has put his family through. He is a true narcissist.
Here are pictures that she sent him long before I caught him cheating. Debbie Causey set him up to get caught by calling and texting him constantly, sending incriminating photos and emails. She wanted my husband, my life, the big house, the trips, expensive gifts, and she needed a new “sugar daddy” after she was thrown out of the house by her long time boyfriend. Well, she got her wish. And you know what? She can have him! She’s a user and he’s a loser. She cheated with him, she will cheat on him. That’s what cheaters do.
Now, you can be seen in public !!!!!!
It’s such a long story, and I’m going to take my time and finish writing it. Through all of this, I continued to journal, and wrote many long detailed letters entitled, “Open Letters” that I emailed to myself. Some were written to my sons, to Tony Andrukaitis, and to his mistress, Debbie Causey. (I just call her the HO and he is AH. You get the drift.) But, I only sent them to myself. It’s all documented, now all II have to do is edit and finish writing the story. Perhaps then I will have closure. This is plan B. All of this has been bottled up inside me like a time bomb waiting to explode for two years.
Today is my anniversary. HAPPY ANNIVERSARY TO ME!
I’m going to break open a bottle of champagne and drink from one of my hand-painted champagne flutes, and celebrate my life. I have many more glasses and many more stories if you want to come join me.
33.235191
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Tags: anniversaries, betrrayal, cheating, healing, lies, qoutes, sex, Survival, true story
Sherri and I painted outside Saturday afternoon. There was a lovely view of the lake. Her first watercolor. It was beautiful. 
Toni Andrukaitis 