Codependent.

I'm sure it comes as no great shock to anyone that I'm codependent.  I have thought that I was codependent for a while, but I started reading a book.  The book opens with some examples of codependent people, then the author talks about how they were extreme examples.  The problem?  I identified with basically all of the stories.

I have a lot of work to do.  I was pretty much born into the codependent role.  It will be a tedious task to tease out which traits are my codependency and which are not.  It's like the time that I found out my knees were double jointed.  The ortho doc wondered if my continuously locking my knees back was causing my hip pain during my pregnancy and following the delivery of my first child.  He suggested that I make a conscious effort to keep my knees forward.  The thing was that I had no idea that I was locking my knees back.  That is what was natural for me and how was I to know that it was abnormal?  Those were the only knees that I've ever experienced!!

Well at any rate, I'm ready to start on a new path.  Between the book and my counselor, I think I have  some good tour guides.  One thing that my counselor emphasizes for me is that I need to story trying to solve everyone else's problems.  She says that I will feel a lot lighter once I'm not carrying everyone else's burdens.  As a step in that direction, she suggests that I regularly review the serenity prayer:

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,

The courage to change the things I can,

And wisdom to know the difference.

Tell, again.

A little over 2 months ago, I told Superwoman about the affair.  It was such a relief to get that off my chest.  It was a comfort that I told her the whole story and she still loved me.  I've had so many people (ahem, the mommies) judge my actions without walking in my shoes.

Superwoman, Pretty and I try to get out once a month.  We usually pamper ourselves and spend some time without the kids.  I've wanted to tell Pretty for some time, but she was going through a personal crisis of her own and I didn't want to add to it.

Telling her was dramatically different than telling Superwoman.  Superwoman holds a lot of anger toward The Mister and tried to rally Pretty in that anger.  But Pretty instantly began crying and all she could say was "it makes me so angry that you felt you couldn't tell us."

Oh my gosh, how did I get so lucky to have two of the very best friends on the planet??

Shuffle.

Hi.  I know it's been a while.  Overall things have been chugging along here.  Nothing is perfect, of course, but I think in general we are moving forward.  The Mister and I do what I call the infidelity shuffle - our strange little dance - a may have talked about it before.  It seems like things stay on an even keel for a while, then suddenly we take 3 steps forward, 1 giant step back and then a baby step forward.  The general momentum is forward, but the move backward can be so discouraging.  The takeaway is that although our path isn't a straight line, I think we are headed to a good place.  

Tell.

Today I told my BFF, Superwoman, about the affair.  It was equally one of the most terrifying and freeing things that I've ever done.  We were going on a road trip to visit our college town on the 10 year anniversary of the day she died.  We had 6 hour round trip drive ahead of us, so I figured that it was as good a time as any to have the talk.

Very few people that I see in real life know about the affair - in fact, prior to today, only one person that I hang out socially knew and she only found out because things went down so publicly in my "mommies" group.  I didn't want to tell our friends and family for a couple of reasons.  First and foremost because I carried so much guilt over the whole thing.  I saw it as a failure on my part (I'm slowly getting over this).  I didn't want to feel judgement or swayed in my decision in any way by their opinions.  And, finally, I didn't want to feel like I had to defend The Mister.

I prefaced what I told Superwoman with that.  I told her that I was especially concerned about something insensitive that her husband would say because I just wasn't strong enough to handle it.  She understood all of that, she just couldn't believe that I carried that secret for so long.  I took great comfort in the fact that she was just as shocked as I was.  I didn't feel quite so stupid for being absolutely dumbfounded.

We talked a lot during the drive and throughout the day, it seemed that the conversation would gravitate back toward the affair.  I became very aware that there is a degree of detachment from the emotions surrounding the affair.  Any in depth conversations that I've had regarding the affair were very early on when the emotions were raw and the pain was fresh (excluding conversations with The Mister).  So, I think that's a sign of healing...hopefully?

At some point, I text The Mister and tell him that I told her.  He responds with "What did she say?" and I told him that she was angry at him.  He said "Well, she is your friend."  And she is.  She is pretty angry at The Mister, but she's also very supportive of me.  I feel like a giant weight has been lifted after telling her.

Ch-ch-ch-changes.

I couldn't think of a better title for this post. Please forgive me for being a little cheesy.  :-)  I need to brag on The Mister for a minute. Now, I'm not going to sit here and pretend that everything has been perfect for the past few months. But just recently I have noticed some big changes around here and I feel that that deserves accolades.

First of all, our son, Buddy, started kindergarten this fall.  One of the reasons that I quit my job after the birth of our third child was so that the Mister could get off of his overnight shift.  Instead he opted to go to an afternoon/evening shift.  Working the overnight shift and getting very few hours of sleep helped to create the sense of entitlement that encouraged The Mister to stray.

Anyway, the Mister decided on his own to switch to the overnight shift again because he was upset that he would not see Buddy on the days that he works.  It is a big step for him to put the family's needs ahead of his own. And of course we have talked about how he will get the proper amount of sleep. And we talked about some safeguards to protect the relationship.

Next, the Mister has had some cysts on his chest for quite some time. It was always a small reminder for me of the whore. Back when everything came out with The Mommies (some of our mutual friends), she was insistent on proving that she was not the psycho that I was led to believe and subsequently shared with the Mommies. So, she made a post on her blog to prove that she knew The Mister intimately.  In this blog post, one of the things she mentioned was the cysts.

Yesterday The Mister went to an appointment that was supposed to only be a consult, but he ended up just getting the cysts removed. I was shocked by this in general, especially when he started talking about how the doctor talked about slashing and cutting him. You see, my husband has been in the military for many years, he signed up shortly after 9/11. But he almost didn't join because he thought he would have to have his wisdom teeth removed and because he was anxious about the shots he would need to receive.  So the removal of an seemingly benign cyst is kind of a big deal.

When I asked him how about his experience of getting it removed he said that it sucked, but frankly he thought about all of the bad things he had done.  He said that if it would take away just one reminder for me of the whore , that it was the least he could do.  This is HUUUUUUGE.  We hadn't discussed this aspect of his cysts ever.  He came to that conclusion all on his own.

There are also a few other instances that have come up recently. Such as, his offering to give up coffee. That can sometimes be a trigger for me because its something that they both enjoyed and that I do not.  Also there was a difference of opinion between his mom and I and he supported my side without defending or making excuses for his mom.  And finally, that he was able to be responsible enough to go to an annual boys night, have a few drinks and was able to get up to take family pictures the next morning.

I'm not saying that things are perfect, but for the first time in a long time I'm feeling encouraged about our future.

Wings.

All of my life, I have been the "good girl."  I followed everyone's rules.  I killed myself in order to live up to everyone else's expectations.  When I didn't meet those expectations, rather than acknowledge that I am human, I beat myself up over it.  I took it on as a personal failure.  Instead of recognizing that sometimes people just set the bar too high for ANYONE to meet, I made the assumption that there was something inherently wrong with me.  Believe me, my head knows how absolutely ridiculous this is, but it's hard to change 30-some years of bad habits.  I am, however, consciously working on it.

Something happened between high school and college...I still haven't been able to put my finger on just what happened, but that is when I REALLY began to lose myself.  I slowly began to fade into the background.  I never had a crazy high self-esteem or anything, but what self-worth I did have slipped away.  I was just a secondary character in the story of life and my only function was to assist others in their respective stories.

But, lately I feel something funny happening.  I feel a spark igniting where there previously was darkness.  Furthermore, not only am I starting to feel a renewed zest for life, but I am also recognizing just how dull and mundane I have allowed things to get for myself.  I am beginning to realize the importance of ME and I am actually standing up for myself (sometimes at the expense of others - WHAAAAAAT?) in order to get what I need.

Now, this does not mean that things are perfect.  For example, with all of these realizations/revelations, comes a great shift in myself, as you can imagine.  My style of dress has changed quite a bit.  (I'm wearing shorts this summer for the first time in...I don't even know when).  I'm taking much more care to put together an outfit rather than throwing on a clean t-shirt and jeans.  My style of makeup has changed.  (I bought RED lipstick and liquid eye liner for the first time ever!).  And I'm seriously considering some body modification - namely in the form of a lip piercing and and an extensive tattoo on my arm.

But, here's where my my old habits came creeping back.  Last weekend, I basically found myself asking The Mister permission to get my lip pierced.  And, back in our old habits, rather than "allowing" me to do whatever I want to, he suggested that I wait a little to make sure that it's what I REALLY want to do.

No.  I am not a child.  I am an adult.  I am an adult who has been pushed around and crammed into this perfect little box for far too long.  I'm getting my effing lip pierced at my very next opportunity.

Like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon, I feel like I am finally finding my wings.

Break.

The Mister is away again.  I can't remember if I've mentioned it or not, but it's only a week this time.  He went to visit his dad who lives out of town.  However, I'm left to tend to the kids by myself AGAIN.  I'm the one responsible for everything AGAIN.  I've been in a not so great place mentally for the last few day - basically my anger is back with a vengeance.  Before he left, The Mister accused me finding things to get mad about.  I've been doing some reading and found that it is actually very common for the disbelief to fully wear off around the 6 month mark.  The thing is, he may have known that if he had done some research, like I asked him to.  Although he TELLS me otherwise, I get the distinct feeling that he feels I should be satisfied with the fact that he remains in no contact with The Whore.  It's not enough.  We are working with such a deficit right now that there is no way that is going to properly heal this relationship.

My biggest concern with this little break is that rather than missing him, I just continue to be sad and angry.  He promised to call me every day, which he has, but he's so distracted by whatever else is going on in the room.  When he calls his dad from our house, he goes in the other room to talk - not outside of ear shot, but away from distractions.  Why am I not given the same courtesy?

And the biggest question is when do I get MY break?  OH, he'll tell me to do whatever I want.  But it's just not feasible and he knows that.  Yet, somehow he's managed to get all kinds of guys trips - I'm not even talking about military-related stuff.

But HE was the one who needed an escape and found it in The Whore.

Give me a break.

Deserve.

He says "I love you."

I say "Thank you."

He asks "Do you love me?"

I answer "I wouldn't still be here if I didn't love you."

He responds "I know, but it's still nice to hear."

What I want to say is "Fuck what you want to hear, you don't deserve it."

But, I don't.  I play nice - as I always have.  Even though very few people have returned the favor.

Why don't I get what I deserve?

Life.

I have said it before and I'm sure I'll say it again, but my kids are my reasons for living.  Literally.  I have been at the depths of despair and the only thought I can hang onto besides the blinding pain is that my kids need me.  And thus I need them.  The other night The Mister and I had a fight.  We have a horrible habit of letting our fights span over a long time until they are resolved.  I'll claim most of the responsibility to this because when I am angry, I completely shut down.  Anyway, I was upset about something (I don't even remember what it was now), but The Mister ended up falling asleep.  I laid awake and couldn't stop crying.  And hearing The Mister sleeping peacefully did absolutely nothing to console me.  All I could think about was how I would give just about anything to end this pain.  Did I make any plans?  No.  But did the option cross my mind as a means to end the pain?  Yes.  So, I decided that it was best to go snuggle with my kids in their bed.  I needed the reminder of the things that make life worth living.  And the tears stopped and I was able to quickly drift off to sleep.

Magic.

I think I came to a sad revelation this weekend.  We were at a wedding.  I had huge concerns about the ceremony triggering me.  Historically, I have been a huge sap at weddings.  I would get overwhelmed by emotion as the couple stood before everyone and took their vows.  I just loved to see them standing on the horizon with their entire future ahead of them.  I felt the magic.  But this weekend, I felt nothing.  Perhaps it was the fact that I had to wrangle all three kiddos while The Mister was a part of the wedding party.  However, I really do fear that I lost the magic.  I know that there is nothing magical about love or marriage.  I'm jaded.  As I sat there watching the ceremony, all I could think was "I hope your experience ends up better than mine.  Right now, all I see is work and pain.

Taper.

For YEARS I've fought taking an antidepressant.  I mean, I fought accepting the label of depression as well, but I was actually scared to start a medication.  It was such a concrete action that I did, in fact, have depression.  I had concerns that it would change me - somehow make me a zombie.  Not to mention that I never had a lot of support from The Mister in that regard.  So instead, I self-medicated, on food.

But last year between D-day #1 and D-day #2, I got to the point where things got bad enough that without further hesitation or discussion with The Mister, I made an appointment with my PCP.  I knew definitively that something wasn't right and that things were not getting better.  For some reason, I wanted to be clear that I was not suffering from postpartum depression.  I'm still not sure why I felt the need to differentiate.  Probably just to give the complete picture.

I've always been pretty hard on myself in terms of shifting blame of my actions on to my past.  I always thought it was weak because so many other people have been through far worse than what I've endured.  But some time last fall, I just got to the point when I had to suck it up and ask for help.  I had to get past my beliefs and get myself healthy for my kids.

So, I got a prescription for Zoloft from my PCP and got a referral for a therapist.  This combination seemed to be working for me.  Then, I needed to see my PCP for something entirely different and she reviewed my file.  She asked about the Zoloft and whether it was working for me.  I told her that I was feeling much better.  She said that from time to time her patients would need a slight increase in dosage.  And that if I felt that I needed that to give her a call.  Well, then D-day #2 happened.  The following morning, though I was still completely numb with shock, I called right away to up my dosage as a preemptive measure.

But, my pride was still there.  I told myself that I would not become dependent on it.  I told myself that I would use it like a cast - a tool to help me stabilize when I was weak and vulnerable.  But eventually I would need to learn some skills to help me cope without it.  Ultimately, although I am very grateful of the benefits of the medication, I HATE the side effects.  I'm not going to go into details, but if you're not familiar with the side effects of Zoloft, I'm sure a short Google search would enlighten you.  I don't even have it as bad as some people, but it's absolutely frustrating nonetheless.

I feel like it's now time to taper off.  I've reduced back to my original dose.  Then in a few weeks, I'll taper down again.  We'll see how it goes!

Suited.

Earlier I blogged about the fact that I was under the misguided impression that our relationship was perfect.  And because this is such a common statement in the infidelity world, I pondered whether there was actually such a thing as the "perfect couple."  I've done some thinking on this subject and came to an interesting conclusion...well, at least it's interesting to me!  Ha!

I believe that I was mistaken previously.  We did not, in fact, have a perfect relationship (obviously).  However, I do think that we were perfectly suited for each other in an unhealthy relationship.  The Mister has  been placed on a pedestal for his entire life.  I think he lept from the pedestal that his mom kept him on and on to the pedestal that I held for him.  He was comfortable stepping on a few people along the way because that's what he's done his whole life.  And I didn't object because I was used to sacrificing myself for the benefit of others.  So, we were a match made in heaven.

Through counseling, I am slowly becoming healthier.  I am improving my self-esteem and self-worth.  I have been able to identify when people are treating me in a way that I once allowed.  I am working on changing my reactions to these people, but it's a slow process.  Therefore, The Mister is also going to have to change for this to work.  Because our old patterns are no longer going to be acceptable.

Friendship.

A double betrayal affair is when your spouse's affair partner is a friend.  Not only are you betrayed by your spouse, but you are also betrayed by your friend.  I am a victim of a double betrayal.  The Whore was my friend.  Among other things, I feel guilt because I brought this person into our lives.  Logically, I understand that the problems would have existed whether or not The Mister had decided to actually engage in his affair, but it's hard to convince my heart of that.  In addition, my world was rocked in so many different ways.  Not only am I picking up the pieces of my marriage, but I also lost a few friends along the way.  But,what can I do?  I'm just going to take my ball and go home.  I've learned my lesson, I'll find better friends who know how to play fair.

Anyway, another roadblock to my recovery that I have not seen addressed anywhere else develops as a complication of the friendship between The Whore and I.  We started off as friends, which means that we had things in common.  That means that there are a lot of potential triggers to navigate through.  The first time it struck me was one of our early sessions in marriage counseling.  Our counselor asked me about my hobbies.  I really couldn't think of anything beyond my children and messing around on the computer.  What an exciting life I lead!  The counselor suggested that I explore my hobbies in an effort to help my depression. But, I was at a loss.  Anything I could think of, I knew The Whore also had an interest in that.  Not only was I trying to avoid a trigger for myself, but I was also worried about reminding The Mister of The Whore.

Fortunately, I have been able find some areas that excite me.  Some of them, I know are things that The Whore also shares interest, but I've been able to make them my own.  Other things, I'm not sure that she would consider them a hobby and I have zero interest in finding out!

Naive.

I'm naive.  I know it.  When I was younger, like 6th grade or so, was when things started to be revealed to me.  Prior to that, I thought of it as things that people talked about, but didn't actually do.  Smoking is an example.  I mean, I knew that adults smoked because most of he adults in my family did.  But, kids my age? That was just something they talked about to sound cool.  Or so I thought.  Until I actually saw someone my age light up for the first time.  That was quite a shock for me.  Sex was another big one.  It was a long time before I actually could admit that people actually had sex and it wasn't just something you watched in the movies.

I'm beginning to learn that as an adult in my 30s, I still carry some of this naivety with me.  First of all, I was always under this misguided impression that deep down people really were looking out for each other - that everyone lived by the golden rule.  Turns out that's incorrect.  Most people are just looking out for themselves.  It's sad really.  A loss of innocence.  I'm sure some greater good will come out of this knowledge, but I sure do miss my cotton candy land.

The big one that gets me is the day I received the email from The Whore telling me that she and The Mister had come to the mutual decision to end their affair.  I almost found it comical.  Once again that is not something that people do...especially MY husband.  I forwarded the email to my husband, playfully saying "we need to talk."  Then, I proceeded to get dressed.  He comes TEARING up the stairs, with a look that I thought was filled with anger, but I know know was terror.  He said "she's lying."  I answered in a chipper tone "I know."

Well, we all know how that turned out.  That part of my has died.  I fear that only bitterness and jaded feelings have taken it's place.  Affair.  That word still sounds stupid to me.

Lonely.

At my last appointment, my counselor suggest that I start working on healing myself and hand The Mister back his baggage.  This is so hard for me because I'm terrified that The Mister will just take this as an indication that everything is okay between us.  But, as I slowly work my way out of my black hole of depression, I am beginning to find joy in life again.  I am finding hobbies to occupy myself.  It is so freeing!!  You have no idea how therapeutic tearing weeds out of the ground by the fistfull can be!  Especially teamed with some "girls rock" -type of music (the station that I was listening to really knew what kind of music I needed).  It can give you a whole new perspective on life.

The problem is that I feel myself separating from The Mister.  I stay at home with the kids, so I don't have a whole lot of outside interaction.  And prior to d-day #2, talking with his was enough.  But, as I let go of trying to control how he helps me heal, I am finding that it is no longer enough.  My friends/family/acquaintances that know - I either feel like they are quietly judging me or that they are almost avoiding me because they don't know what to say.  The ones who don't know - well, it's hard to talk to them while avoiding any conversation of this huge piece of my current reality. So, I'm lonely.  I wish I could find someone who has been through/is going through something like this.  But, unfortunately this is one of those taboo topics that no one discusses.

Perfect.

Although I am still fairly new to the world of the betrayed, I have noticed that there are striking similarities in many of the instances.  For example, I was quite surprised by the sheer number of people who are blindsided by their partner's affair because they thought they had a nearly perfect relationship.  You can count me in on this one.  In fact (and I've read of other people having similar experiences), The Mister and I have had people tell us that they viewed us as a model couple.  The Mister and I used to wonder to each other if WE were the weird ones because the people around us dealt with things like alcoholism, gambling addiction, verbal abuse, and blatant dislike for each other.  And our problems were much further on the other side of the spectrum - we fought about minor things like The Mister being insensitive and hurting my feelings or us not having enough sex.  Our fights were pretty tame compared to the other people that we knew.  Furthermore, we had successfully survived things that most people don't even need to think about - a deployment and recurrent miscarriages, to name a few.

I felt secure that our relationship was just that strong.  I was under the impression that we were well-prepared for pretty much anything that life could throw at us.  In fact, prior to getting married we had even discussed our reasons (beyond the obvious) for why we would remain faithful.  Oh how I was wrong.  Turns out what we had was not that special.  I'm actually still wondering if what we have is even mediocre.  At the moment, it still feels subpar.  I mean, in the case of alcoholism or gamble addiction.  That's an illness and it's not a direct transgression against the spouse - unlike my husband's affair.

Most people around us are unaware of my husband's behavior.  We recently celebrated our wedding anniversary.  And we STILL had people touting us as "the perfect couple."  I felt like a complete fraud.  It was embarrassing.

However, now I am beginning to wonder if this should have been a red flag.  Is there really a "perfect couple" out there?  I'm wondering, if it was just a matter of us stuffing feelings inside and bottling things up, rather than actually communicating that gave us the impression that we had such a wonderful relationship.  Improving our communication is definitely something that is my priority as we attempt to rebuild our relationship.  But, that might be something interesting to delve a little deeper into.

Legacy.

There have been days in the past year that my kids were the only thing keeping me from actually contemplating suicide.  No lie.  There were days that I was sure that they were my only reason for living.  My heart ached thinking of my children being raised by the Whore.  My kids' futures weighs very heavily on my mind and guide my decisions daily.  I know that I am a role model for them and I take that responsibility very seriously.

I've never really pieced it all together, but I'm starting to have concerns about some red flags.  You see, the Mister's dad cheated on his mom.  In fact, he is still married to her to this day.  The other thing that I recently remembered is that his uncle (so, the Mister's dad's brother) was cheated on by his wife.  Now, I never got to meet his paternal grandfather because he passed away long before the Mister and I started dating, but I'm beginning to wonder what he really was like.  I am really questioning what his marriage was like.  Most of all, I am wondering if there is something that has been passed down between generations.  This scares me.

I vow to do everything in my power to break this cycle.  I'm hoping that my kids are now young enough that they won't ever catch on to the absolute betrayal.  But, from here on out, my goal is to show them how to be a healthy individual - hopefully in a healthy, loving relationship.  But if not, I want to show them that I can be a strong person who picks myself up after getting out of a unhealthy relationship.

Better.

The issue of losing my special has weighed heavily on my mind.  And, believe me, I did my fair share of trying to prove this - particularly between d-day #1 and d-day #2.  In doing so, I made the mistake that so many betrayed wives make - rather than build myself up, I tried to cut The Whore down.  I just couldn't grasp the concept that she didn't need my help to prove that she is beneath me.  She did a fine job of that all on her own.  But depression plus insecurity plus betrayal is a deadly combination.

As I mull this over and my brain slowly processes everything, it suddenly hits me.  I don't need to prove that I am better than The Whore.  This whole time, my mind was trying to protect me by protecting The Mister.  I touched on it here.  But, suddenly it hit me - The Mister did a bad thing, but he's not a bad person.  The Mister turned into a person that I didn't even like.  If I had known the full extent of whom he had become, I would not have stayed.  And I have vowed that if that person ever comes back, I am gone.  In fact, I'm not even 100% certain that I can stay married to a person that could turn into the person he was.

However, The Whore knew exactly who she was associating with.  She knew the lies that he was telling me and was still more than eager to hop into bed with him.  Furthermore, she knew that he was throwing her under the bus and still talked about marrying him.  She knew that he was a man who was so selfish that he would leave his wife and day-old baby at the hospital to get his needs met because it was his birthday.  And yet, she continued to welcome him with open arms...or legs, as the case may be.  And with that, my anger faded.  How sad.  How utterly and absolutely pathetic one must be to accept that.

With that, I realized that I am better than her.  I require so much more than that.  And if The Mister wants to stay with me, then he must be better as well.  Suddenly, I realize what my actual issue is with losing my "special."  It's not that I actually lost anything.  I *am* special!  I am just hurt because The Mister didn't treat me accordingly.

Special.

One major issue that I have been struggling with as of late is feeling special.   There is common discussion among betrayed wives criticizing the other woman for feeling "special."  And if you spend any time around a bunch of betrayed wives, you will hear the old cliche "Did you think you were the only one?  What, you thought you were special?"  As if the other woman is the stupid one for thinking that SHE was special.  And as fucked up as it all is, I had to hold my tongue on more than one occasion in order to keep myself from uttering this sentiment to The Whore.     It's gross.  And I can assure you that it has more to do with the betrayed wife's insecurities than the other woman.

Unfortunately, having the clarity on the "special" situation does not in any way make me feel any more special.  I used to feel special.  You see, I was under the impression that I'd met my soulmate, had a nearly perfect relationship, and was married to a trustworthy, faithful man.  However, most of what I thought I knew was a sham.  The Mister turned into someone that I didn't even recognize - a selfish, deceitful person.  And because of this I am left to question our entire history.  I am truly worried that everything that made US special was a lie.  I am angry because we have not just been knocked down from our "special" spot high above all the others, but I fear that we are currently below most other relationships.

I know that my self-worth extends beyond my relationship with The Mister.  But, I honestly thought that we had something special.  I could not believe how incredibly lucky I was.  I was certain that I did not deserve it.  So, it hurt so deeply when it all came crumbling down.  I was completely dumbfounded that The Mister gave it all away.  I was devastated that he gave my "special" away.

Feelings.

Here I am nearly 4 months out from d-day #2 and quickly approaching the 1 year mark of when the affair started.  I'd say that overall, my good moments outweigh my bad.  The most frustrating part is whenever I come to the realization that I've had a pretty good day thus far, the negativity seeps into my brain.  I'm not even sure that the lows that follow are really that low or if it's just the stark difference in my mood and thoughts.  I think that a part of it is that I am actually feeling things again and this is a sensation to which I am no longer accustomed.

I guess I had gotten used to the melancholy.  I mean I had some variety - there were days that were more or less bleak, but for the most part, I was just numb.  It feels FANTASTIC to feel again - but it is also terrifying.  It's not that I mind the lows and I'm not even sure that the highs are that high.  It's just that it's so different than how I have felt for I-don't-even-know-how-long that I just fear that I'll get pulled back into that  all too familiar pit again.  Sure, I could put on a good show that everything was fine.  And I could almost convince myself that the way I felt was normal.  But, it took an extreme amount of effort to put on the facade.  So much effort that I had no energy for much else - and then I would berate myself for being lazy - which would only drag me further into my pit of depression - making it necessary to exert even more energy to create some semblance of normalcy.  It was an ugly cycle.

But I think that I am on the right track.  I feel like I am beginning to gain the tools to recognize when I am slipping.  And I am continuing the work that has been helping me to regain my emotions.  So, for the time-being  I'mm just put my faith in the process and ride it out.

Flight.

I have read advice from people much further along in their healing suggesting that you give it a year before you make any life-changing decisions after an affair.  I have made a commitment to The Mister to hold up my end on repairing our marriage.  But, every so often, I go down the path of mental self-abuse and my internal fight or flight instinct kicks in.  Suddenly, I have the urge to flee.  These periods are generally brief and then I am back to where I started.  I am just having difficulty discerning if this is my brain processing the utter lack of respect that has been shown to me...or if it's my mind telling me that I should actually flee.  I hope I get to the point where I know the correct answer.

Release.

The Mister and I had our first couples counseling session since D-Day #2.  In some ways I feel like it helped, but in other ways I feel like it made things worse (as in made me question things).  Let's talk about the positives first: I think I saw some REAL emotion from The Mister for the first time.  It was primarily anger and feeling like he was being ambushed, but it seemed like some legitimate reactions from him versus just blindly agreeing with me without even really listening to what I'm saying (which is why he felt ambushed).  I think our counselor was better able to express my feelings for The Mister.

However, the negative:  She says that I need to let go.  Yipes.  We discussed how The Mister will tell me that he'll do whatever I need.  But, he doesn't necessarily intend to do what I ask...or at least in the manner that I ask.  I have given him a list of things that I would like him to do.  For example, I have asked him to research ways to repair our marriage and to read a book that has come highly recommended on the topic of infidelity.  He has definitely drug his feet on these.  He says that he doesn't mind reading the book (although he has definitely not made it a priority), but he's not ready to do any other research - he's not at that point in "the process."  (That comment actually spurred some conflict the morning of our counseling session).

Our counselor suggested that the way that I process things may not be the same way that he processes things.  She suggested that he does things his own way, but makes an effort to clue me in on what exactly he's been doing.  He agreed and I (reluctantly) agreed.  You see, I'm terrified that if I'm not pushing my agenda, things will get put on the back burner.  And I can't feel safe or comfortable in our relationship if he's not putting in the effort beyond just the here and now or future stuff.  I need him to work on understanding what went wrong in the past and make an effort to correct it.  I also need him to put his fair share into trying to repair our marriage.

But, I'm letting go.  Our counselor said that we're not going to get where we want to be by dragging the other one along.  This is so scary.  Like stomach twisted in knots scary.  I feel like I'm precariously walking on a very high ledge.  I'm not even sure that The Mister completely understands the gravity of the situation - although I do think he got a bit of a glimpse during our session.  I'm fairly certain that he thinks everything is just fine so long as we're having, ahem, relations regularly and I'm not moping around the house.  I feel like I need some sort of deadline, but if I tell him "I need you to do ABC by XYZ," then I'm not really letting go, am I?  So, I think I'm going to make us another appointment in 6 weeks and silently plead that he takes a few steps on his own until then.  In the meantime, I'll be hoping for the best but preparing for the worst.

As terrifying as it is, I am releasing control.  Ugh.

Hiatus.

Well, hello there.  It's been a little while.  I really don't have an excuse for my little hiatus.  I did foolishly think that I would have more free time once The Mister returned from his trip because I would have an extra set of hands to help with the kids and household duties.  Silly me!  Instead I just have yet another person in the house demanding my attention!  Honestly, I think it was just a matter of my getting behind and then getting overwhelmed because I felt like I needed to "catch up."  Also, the laptop basically died and getting on the desktop is a rare occurrence for me.  But I got a new laptop for my birthday, so I am up and running now!  I can tell you that I have written many WONDERFUL blog posts in my head - while I'm showering, doing the dishes, bathing the kids, or whatever.  But unfortunately, I am unable to hook my brain up to a computer.  And by the time I find myself at a computer with a few minutes to myself, the words escape me and I find 16,000 other things that I want to do.

Well, then I realized that writing is actually really therapeutic for me and there is no need to "catch up" - this is MY blog.  I am the one who makes the rules!  So, I guess you'll have to just deal with it!  :-)  Anyway, the last 2 months have been a roller coaster - which is pretty much to be expected, I suppose.  I *think* we're ultimately headed up, but it is most definitely a rough and rocky road.  In fact, I don't even really remember the specifics that got us there, but I spent a night on the couch and was very close to moving out of our bedroom into my son's room.  But, communication has been (for the most part) good.  And The Mister seems to be willing to take whatever measures it takes to make me feel safe(r) and (more) secure in our relationship.  So, I guess time will only tell.  We do have our first couples counseling appointment since d-day #2 coming up.

I hope to be able to check in more regularly again.

Reclaim.

A very smart friend of mine recently said something and even though she was talking about a completely different topic, what she said really resonated with me.  She said "Getting myself to say it out loud is really fucking hard, but it helps to let someone you trust know what you're doing."  So, that's what I am doing today.  I am reclaiming what is mine.

The last few days, I have become increasingly aware that I am far too focused on the past.  I need to let it go.  I can't change anything.  I can only move on and take my lesson with me.  Instead, I should be in the present and planning for the future.

One of my greatest difficulties is what I call "getting out of my head."  It's a nearly constant struggle to not get caught up in thoughts about various aspects of the whole situation.  However, I recently learned a little tool from the forums on Surviving Infidelity.  Generally it's suggested that you visualize a giant stop sign when your thoughts begin to wander to the affair or you start the mind movies.  But, that's not nearly enough fun.  Someone from the forums said that they visualize themselves literally kicking the other person out of their thoughts.  I LOVE THIS.  Not only does it actually help, but I also get to kick The Whore in the face several times a day.  It is SO empowering!!!

With my shiny new tool in my toolbox, I feel so much stronger and ready to move on with my life.  I am ready to reclaim what is mine.  I am saying it out loud for all of you to hear: 

I am reclaiming my mind!  I am reclaiming my spirit!  I am reclaiming myself!  I am ready to move on from this horrible chapter in my life, take the lessons with me, and set sails for a brighter future.

So, there you have it.  I've said it and now I have to follow through, right?  :-)  Did you think I was going to mention reclaiming The Mister?  Not. A. Chance.  I only have control over myself.  It's up to him repair what has been broken between us.  If he can't do it, I am not about to force anything.  I refuse to live my life trying to coax someone to treat me with respect and to love me like they should.  He gets one "do-over."  If he can't do it, then I'll take my lesson from that and keep on keeping on.  Until then, he is more than welcome to reclaim his marriage.

Dreams.

I have always thought that dreams are significant.  Less in a one-size-fits-all 'let's look it up in a dream book' sort of way and more in a 'my brain is processing life' way.  Dreams can be literal or figurative - sometimes the feeling or the mood of the dream is more important than the actual images - or the images are symbolic of something else.

I've had PLENTY of dreams in the past few months.  As you can imagine, my brain has had a lot to process  throughout this whole horrific ordeal.  The whore has cropped up in my dreams sporadically, but this week she has tormented me twice already.  The first one was quite distressing.  There was a lot of talking and then I tried to punch her and I couldn't.  It put a damper on the rest of my day.  Actually, now that I think about it, this may have prompted the start of my angry phase.

However, last night I dreamt that I got to tell her all of the things that I wish I could say to her, but know better.  First of all, I told The Bore about her last message to The Mister.  The one that was "fishing" - trying to see if she could start things up.  This was actually the message that spurred D-day #2.  The other thing I got to tell was that she is trash.  In her last email to me, she assured me that she never spoke poorly of me.  It took every ounce of strength that I had not to respond with "I honestly do not care because you are nothing more than trash."  But, I decided that silence was my best option.  Then in my dream they wouldn't leave, so I had to call 911.  I actually woke up feeling a little bit victorious   I actually feel much more level than I have for the past few days.  I don't want to get too far ahead of myself and jump to conclusions, but perhaps my dream last night was my brain working through my emotions.  One can hope!

To further encourage my healing, The Mister is currently on top of his game.  He is saying all the right things. He is doing the work he can from out of town - he's reading and doing the necessary research.  He's discussing the things he's been doing.  He's open to being completely transparent.  He's making plans - that if he follows through with - could make great strides in our recovery.

Today, I am cautiously optimistic.

Anger.

The Kübler-Ross model, commonly referred to as the "five stages of grief", is a hypothesis introduced by Elisabeth Kübler-Ross asserting that when a person (or a survivor) is faced with the reality of impending death or other extreme, awful fate, he/she will experience a series of emotional "stages."  The five stages: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance are a part of the framework that makes up our learning to live with what we have lost. They are tools to help us frame and identify what we may be feeling. But they are not stops on some linear timeline in grief. Not everyone goes through all of them or in a prescribed order.  (Grief.com)

I know that I went through the stages after D-day #1.  So, when D-day #2 rolled round and I felt pretty level-headed about everything, I thought maybe I was already to acceptance.  Not a chance.  More likely is that I was still in the denial phase.  I was right back at square one.  

Well on Saturday, I'm fairly certain that I hit the anger stage full-force.  I sent some pretty angry text messages to The Mister throughout the day (I didn't call because he was with a friend and the friend just found out that his Grandpa died).  But we talked on the phone Sunday evening when I unloaded on him - verbally this time.  I got to the point where I just had to hang up the phone because I had nothing constructive to say.  Afterwards, he sent me a text message saying he felt 'terrible' for what he did.  He says that a lot and it dives me crazy.  My hope is that he has difficulty finding the right words to accurately describe his feelings, but I feel like 'terrible' is FAR too superficial of a word to use to describe the agony that he has put me through.  So, I told him as much in an email.  And because that wasn't enough abuse, I sent a second email.  And the remarkable thing about The Mister is that he never complained.  He did all the right things (well, with the exception of trying to imply that something other than his misdeeds were the cause of my anger) - he agreed with me, he offered support, he showed affection and he still did the reading he promised AND made notes about some things that he wanted to share.

He's a good man.  He did something very, very wrong, but nevertheless, he IS a good man.

Peace.

Being a mother is enough responsibility in and of itself, but with The Mister out of town, I have had absolutely zero down time.  Even the little bit of time that I had some friends watch the two bigger kids, I still had the baby with me and I went grocery shopping.  So, this morning I took advantage of today being Saturday and us not having plans until early evening.  I got the kids all settled in downstairs and ran upstairs to take a shower by myself.  As I stood in the shower with the water beating down on my tired body, surrounded by a cloud of steam, and the sunlight streaming through the window on to my face.  And right there for just a moment, my world was peaceful.  I could hear nothing but the falling water and for once in as long as I could remember, my mind was quite.  For just a few blissful seconds, I was just present.  That is, until I started to over-think it.  :-(

And then as my punishment for that moment of peace was that I struggled to keep my mind off all of the crap for the rest of the day.  Sigh.

Distance.

The title of this post is a bit of a double entendre.  You see, on this Valentine's day, I find myself thinking about distance and how it relates to my marriage.  In 2012, we experienced a great deal of emotional distance.  I'm not even sure when it started or what the catalyst was because I think it grew so slowly.  Right now, The Mister is about 12,000 miles away, so we are currently facing physical distance.  I think having a forced separation of sorts is a good thing toward healing our marriage.  Besides giving us a taste of what life apart would be like, it also gives us a chance to work through some of our own stuff individually.  And because we're not really jointly involved in the day-to-day stuff presently, it's easier to have the feel that we're dating - which is the stage that I think we're in right now anyway.  Because we're not currently living together, it helps the hunger for each other to return.  In fact, just yesterday, I was struck by how much I actually miss him.  I mean I *know* that I miss him, but yesterday I could feel it in my soul.  The depth of the feeling struck me.  Almost immediately, I noticed the little things that would make life a bit easier - I now had to take on 100% of the child care duties, 100% of the household duties, and had no one to easily relieve me if I needed to run somewhere.  But after 4 days, I really truly missed just having my partner here.  I think the physical distance is assisting in our ability to heal.

And then today is Valentine's day and let me tell you, he hit it out of the park this year!  A public announcement that he loves me on my Facebook wall, flowers delivered to the house, and sweet text messages all day that gave me the butterflies feeling again.  I really truly felt loved and appreciated today.  Then I realized what a juxtaposition that feeling was to Valentine's day 2012.  Last year I got nothing, nada, zilch.  I even told The Mister that all I wanted was a card.  I don't need expensive gifts, but a girl likes to be reminded that she's appreciated once in a while - small gestures once in a while to show her that you're thinking about her even when she's not around.  A card with some thoughtful words written inside go a long way.  All I got last year was an apology and an offer to share the candy I bought for him (that I hate, BTW) - from The Mister anyway, Buddy told me that he would share his Valentine's day card with him.

Of course, hindsight is 20/20, but now I can see that this was just the start of the emotional distance growing between us.  Although the affair had not stated yet, this was the beginning of the downward plunge that our marriage took last year.  Now, I will NEVER, EVER, EVER be one of those "his affair saved our marriage" -types because I think that's bullshit.  I will NEVER, EVER, EVER give The Mister an out like that.  I absolutely wish that he would have brought his concerns to me and let me in on the gravity of the situation before he broke his vows.  But, there is nothing I can do about that now.  I AM, however, the type of person that believes that you need to find the lesson in all of life's experiences, otherwise it's just a waste.  I am hoping that we can learn experience, appreciate our marriage, put some safeguards in place to ensure fidelity, and not let the emotional distance grow between us again.

Triggers.

Triggers are a common occurrence for the betrayed spouse.  They are an individual thing and vary from person to person.  It could be anything really - sights, sounds, smells, specific dates - anything that triggers a reaction and reminds the person of the affair in some way, shape or form.  As my emotions being to damper and I level out a little bit, my personal triggers are beginning to take shape.  So far, the one I can pinpoint is anything that happened (specific dates, holidays, events, etc.) while the affair was going on.  Unfortunately, this thing went on for 6 months and a lot of stuff happens in half a year...including the birth of Chunky.

This is one of the things that makes me so angry.  I hope that one day the feelings fade enough that I can think back to the day my son was born (and The Mister's birthday the following day) and remember the joy and love I felt, instead of the giant black cloud and the subsequent knot in my stomach due to The Mister's horrific transgression.  The other day, I needed a specific date of something from this summer, so I had to go back through my calendar.  Seeing all of the specific dates that I now know that they were together, events that happened as I was blissfully unaware of the underground deceit, and times when I thought The Mister and I shared a special, happy moment that I now know was an utter and complete lie sent me in a downward spiral of emotions.  Then, a friend asked me about the camp that I sent Buddy and Feisty to while I was in the hospital with Chunky.  Suddenly, I'm overwhelmed with the memory of being left alone at the hospital.  I remember being irritated by being left with the responsibility to care for all of our children a day after having a baby.  I quickly brushed my feelings aside because I did feel guilty that The Mister was missing out on his birthday.  Ugh.  I guess I have 6 months, but I'm not sure how I can celebrate his birthday ever again without triggering.

I hate this.

Selfish.

I hear all the time about how affairs are "selfish."  I hear this not only from other people, but also from The Mister.  It doesn't bother me so much when others say it, but it just doesn't sit right when The Mister says it. He will often freely confess some variant of "I was stupid, I was an asshole, I was selfish."  The others don't bother me, but the "I was selfish" just rubs me the wrong way.  I'm not even sure that I can appropriately explain my feeling on this.

When someone says they were selfish it means that they were seeking their own pleasure without regard for others.  So to me, when The Mister says "I was selfish" he's saying it's something I want to do, but shouldn't have because it's wrong.  I guess I would rather hear ""I was obviously struck with temporary insanity.  I mean, why else would I even give THAT a second thought??"  However, I would even be satisfied with "I did something that I thought at the time made me happy, but I now realize that I was blinded by the fantasy of no responsibilities"...or something along those lines.

I did have a discussion with The Mister, where I tried to explain my issue with "I'm selfish."  But, it's a fine line between explaining my concern to him and telling him what to say.  It really is meaningless if he just regurgitates my words.  And really, I'm not sure that he could ever find the right words because he can't honestly tell me "It never happened."  I guess, in that case, I can only hope that my feelings eventually make sense to him and he is able to put it into his own words.

Precious.

I was walking through the grocery store yesterday.  I just had chunky with me because the older two had a dinner date with their aunt.  Chunky was sitting in the cart, looking up at me with his big, goofy grin.  Suddenly, tears spring to my eyes.  I'm looking at this tiny, perfect creature - so full of innocence - and I can't even comprehend how anyone could be so absolutely selfish to risk everything.  I know as mother, I am often putting everyone else's wants and needs ahead of my own.  But honestly, how completely wrapped up in yourself does one have to be to be so careless to those who depends on you the most...especially this helpless, adorable, PRECIOUS little being.  Over what?  Sex with The Whore?  I will never, ever, ever, ever understand.  I can't even fathom how you can look at his angelic face and feel anything but absolute horror over what you did.  Because that's what I felt that day in the grocery store looking at this sweet, little baby and *I* didn't do anything wrong.  *I've* done nothing but protect him from the day he was conceived.  And yet, *I* feel guilty for your transgressions.  I'm not claiming that I have been perfect in my life or even in my marriage.  But, I can tell you that the day I became a mother changed the course of my life forever.  I was no longer responsible for just myself and I have lived my life accordingly.  Furthermore, not only am I expected to keep these children alive and guide them in the right directions, but I am also expected to be a positive role model in their lives.  I strive to be the type of woman that I would like my daughter to be and the type of woman I would like my sons to marry.  I suggest that you take a hard look at your actions and what messages you are sending to your children.  We were entrusted with precious cargo.  It's time to treat them accordingly.

Protect.

I had another therapy session today.  I REALLY hate whining about how I was mistreated growing up. Especially because I know I could have had it much worse.  No one touched me inappropriately.  No one beat me.  My parents fed me and clothed me and loved me...in their own way.  So, I really just want to suck it up and get over it.  But, if you look at some of my issues from my past and some of my issues in the present.  It kind of fits together like some sort of weird jigsaw puzzle.

No one has ever REALLY protected me.  My parents were married when I was little until I was about age 10 or 11.  My Mom was the dominant one in the relationship.  She was also the youngest in her family and the only girl, so I think she was spoiled a bit growing up.  And thus, she's always been somewhat co-dependent, helpless, and immature.  But, she has always been proud of her outgoing-ness and her "athleticism" (which I think it more of a tom-boyish attitude - placing more importance on traditionally masculine activities, such as sports, over traditionally girly activities, such as cooking, makeup, fashion, etc.).  Evidently, I remind my Mom too much of my dad.  I am quite reserved, quiet and thoughtful - pretty much the opposite of my Mom.  I love girly things.  I love make-up, hair, shoes, and looking pretty.  I love cooking and doting on my family.  Again, all pretty much the opposite of my Mom.  And although she doesn't say it in so many words, I don't believe that a day has gone by that she hasn't reminded me that I am not what she expected in a daughter.

On to my Dad Like I said, my Dad is very reserved and quiet.  His mother is a mean old lady and I'm pretty sure there is something psychologically wrong with her.  She will often pit people against each other.  I've seen her do it between her children, her grandchildren, and her great-grandchildren.  Like life is some sort of F'd up competition.  And I've seen my Dad just roll over and take her abuse, as I'm sure he has done for his entire life.

So, I am brought into this world and these are the two people who are supposed to care for me - a self-centered, bitter Mom and a Dad who is unable to stand up to the matriarch of the house.  So, I get the message loud and clear: I'm not worth fighting for.  Then, my parents split and find other significant others.  The cycle continues, only this time worse because I'm not even sure that these "new" parental figures even truly care for me.  My Dad marries an even more controlling and aggressive woman and takes an even bigger step back in regards to my defense.  My Mom shacks up with a man who is an alcoholic and emotionally abusive.  She's far too concerned with her relationship and my brother's activities to be bothered with me.  And he jumps right in when she starts belittling me.

I am required to grow up quickly.  I am given a lot of responsibility at a young age...but only when it's convenient for the "adults" in my life.  No one takes too much interest in my life, except to tell me when I could do better.  So, I seek out people that I think will protect me.  But unfortunately, I'm not the best judge of that.

Then I meet a boy.  He likes me and he's nice enough to me and interested enough in me that I can overlook a few things, like the fact that he has to call his ex-girlfriend every Sunday - no matter what.  He eventually breaks up with me for her and I am crushed.  Then he wants me back, but only as his "best friend."  He's still dating his ex.  He only wants me when it suites him and I go along with it because I think he really cares and that he'll protect me.  The ex breaks up with him, but he still doesn't want me as anything more than the "best friend."  Eventually, I get smart.  Someone else starts to pay attention to me.  I agree to still be the "best friend," but he no longer can have me when it suites him.  I have someone else who will try to protect me.

The boy realizes that he wants what he now can't have.  He makes a very convincing plea.  He wants to protect me for the rest of my life.  This is an offer that I can't turn down.  This is everything that I ever wanted.  And for a while, it seemed that he did.  In fact, until recently, I thought that was the fairy tale.  "And they lived happily ever after.  The end."

I was wrong.  The boy chose to protect himself and The Whore at the expense of me.

I understand now that I can't rely on anyone else for protection.  I need to learn to protect myself.  But, that doesn't mean that I won't be just a little bit angry and bitter that I've fought for years yet have still never received what is simple a given for most everyone else.

Disgust.

The other day, I told The Mister that a part of me is disgusted by him.  He seemed taken aback by that.  He asked "because I lied to you?"  No.  Really?  How about because you put your penis into another woman's vagina?  I then began listing all of the transgressions that disgusted me.  He was visibly upset by this.  He then took a shower and I know he was in there crying and a large part of me didn't care.  Why should I feel guilty when he's upset?  *I* didn't cause any of this.  Was he thinking about me or my feelings at any point in the last 7 months?  Not. At. All.

Asshole.

However, I am an empathetic being.  So, unfortunately I do care.  Ugh.

Hate.

There are days where I have to remind myself...almost convince myself...that I don't hate The Mister, but I definitely hate what he did.  I think I *could* hate him for what he did and I fear that if I let myself hate him, I will never be able to recover from that.  I feel like I need to attempt to pick up the pieces of our shattered relationship not just for us, but also for our kids.  I think we own it to the kids to see if we can successfully reconcile.

I've been told that it sounds like I am protecting The Mister.  I have a couple theories on that.  First of all, I've read that it's like a defense mechanism.  Initially, your heart doles most of the blame to the other person. Then slowly, it allows you to place more and more blame on your significant other.  In a way it protects you and give you the opportunity to process more slowly the hurt the other person has done to you in order for you to make the decision whether to stay and build trust or not.

To me, it also feels like I'm protecting him from those around me for my benefit.  I am angry with him.  More angry, hurt, confused, whatever than you can ever imagine.  I'm hoping that I can some day forgive him for his actions.  If I'm not completely certain that *I* can forgive him, how am I to expect those around me to forgive him and support our reconciliation?

Lazy.

Eh, I'm done number days.  It's too much work.  And guess what, I'm lazy.  :-)

It never ceases to amaze me how my therapist can say something to me and it'll resonate weeks or months later.  At my very first individual counseling session, she asked me to list the things that I didn't like about myself.  My list for the most part centered around my being lazy.  At that point she stopped me.   "Have you ever considered that what you describe as being 'lazy,' is actually a symptom of being depressed?" she asked me.  No, the thought had honestly never crossed my mind.  In fact, I had always thought that was pretty much a cop out.  You see, I was raised in a home where my mother shifted the blame of anything not right in her life on to someone or something else.  She was the child of an alcoholic...money problems due to the divorce...weight issues due to quitting smoking...always tired due to medical issues...  Okay, but at some point you have to take a little ownership.  Okay, so quitting smoking will make you gain weight, I am not arguing this.  When you quit 15 years ago and you're standing at the kitchen counter eating an entire jar of jelly by the spoonful, it might be time to consider that your eating habits are also playing a role in your weight issue.  Maybe?  No you're right, it's probably the smoking thing.

I told my therapist that I'm willing to entertain the option that my 'laziness' is actually depression, but I refuse to use it as a crutch.  I refuse to place the blame on other things and continue to go about my lazy way.  She said that made sense.  Then we started talking about my mother and I felt like the cliche client in therapy.  My therapist was trying to get at some of damage that my parents did to me growing up.

Then, weeks later, I was dumbstruck by a comment my dad made.  We were talking about my 1 y/o niece not walking and my brother commented that she was lazy.  My dad exclaimed "Oh no, [ME] was the laziest baby!  She never even crawled, she just rolled everywhere!"  This is a comment that I've probably heard 1000x's before.  It's actually the running family joke about how lazy I was - between never crawling as a baby, to feigning injuries to not play T-ball as a child, to never playing sports in high school - there is never any question about my laziness.  But suddenly, my conversation with my therapist pops into my head.  Well, no wonder I have anxiety with being lazy!  I've been told in no uncertain terms that I was lazy since I was a baby!!  Who does that??  Oh right, my family.  How is that okay?  Why is that hysterical??  No wonder I have issues!

Now, was I strong enough to bring this fact to everyone's' attention at that point?  No, not yet.  But, I think recognizing how I am being mistreated is probably a good first step.  I will say, as I am gaining tools to combat my depression, I feel my energy coming back somewhat.  I do have some VERY productive days.  However, I still have plenty of low energy days.  And occasionally I do let myself curl up on the couch, under the safety and protection of a warm blanket, without (too much) mental criticism.

Day 14

It's been 2 weeks since my 2nd d-day.  Today I got some "tough love" from a few mutual acquaintances between The Whore, The Meddler, and I.  Basically I am stupid for not knowing what was going on.  I am protecting The Mister.  I am playing the victim.  And I should issue everyone an apology.  And then they laid out exactly what they would do in my situation.

'Scuse me??

Everyone is entitled to their own opinion and I admit that I drug the group into this mess, but I can assure you that you have NO idea what you would do in my shoes until you've been here.  I definitely made big claims that as soon as someone was unfaithful to me, I'd be showing them the door.  Well, things get convoluted when you have as much time invest in as I do, not to mention the kids!!  I am so thankful that I have found a support group of people who are going through/have been through something similar.  In this group, I've come to realize that my reactions are COMPLETELY NORMAL.  I would not wish this hell on anyone, but I do promise that if any of these judgmental people ever come to me in a situation like mine, I will welcome them with open arms and I won't say 'I told you so'...out loud, anyway.  :-)

Day 12

Today I kissed The Mister for the first time since D-day #2.  It felt good, but it triggered some angry thinking later in the day.  We ended up having a good discussion that centered around some of The Whore's faults and the less desirable aspects of the affair.  It was nice to hear.  The Mister and I ended up being intimate again for the first time later tonight.  It was emotional for both of us, but he was very patient and understanding.  He just held me for the rest of the night.

Day 11

STD checks came back clean.  One more check off my list of demands.

Day 9

Today was my first counseling session since D-day #2.  Obviously the affair was the topic of the entire session. One thing we discussed was that I am willing to put in the effort to make things work if he is, but I'm not ready to fully commit to reconciliation just yet. She agreed that she thought that was smart. So, I came home and told The Mister what we discussed. I wouldn't say that it made him angry, per say, but he did seem agitated. His response was actually "Well, *I'm* not leaving you..." I wanted to say "Well, *I* was faithful!" But, I didn't. I explained that I just needed time to make sure that he continued to do what I needed him to do and to see if this betrayal was something that I could eventually get over. He seemed to understand that.

Day 6

Today was a bad day.  It may or may not have been confounded by the fact that I left the house without taking my medication.  We took the kids over to my Dad's house for a while.  The whole time there, I had to stuff my feelings down and put on a happy face.  On the way home, The Mister asked me what I was thinking.  So, I started unloading on him.  I'm so angry!!  I can't believe he sat for months listening to me cry about how deceived I felt (notice the past tense, that's because I thought it was over), he'd look me right in the eye and tell he was sorry and that it was over.  But, it wasn't.  He'd tell me that I was the only one.  But, I wasn't.  He'd tell me that he never slept with her.  But, he had.  Every time I felt like we were starting rebuild trust, something would come along and bring it tumbling back down.  He definitely has an up-hill battke ahead of him.  I hope I'm not stupid for giving him one last chance.

Day 4

Day 4 is a better day. The Whore started emailing me last night threatening that if I didn't clear her name within the Mommy Group, she was going to post emails on her blog. The Mister eventually sent an email telling her to knock it off. It was nice to have him stand up for me. However, she still kept pushing, so I let them know that she was definitely a whore, but her sanity was up for interpretation and that she was threatening public humiliation if I didn't let them know as much.

...sooooo, I’m sure that changed a lot of opinions of her...

Day 3

Okay, today is day three. It's a bad day. Today I am feeling very violated. I compare it to the time my car was broken into. I felt very icky that someone was in my car without permission, went through my stuff, and shattered my security. This is like that only 1000x worse. And it's mainly because who knows what they talked about in regards to me or things I said. Perhaps I'm still in a state of denial, but it's the emotional relationship that still bothers me more than the physical. I don't know.

So far, The Mister is still doing all the right things (again, I realize it's only day 3). He is being very supportive and patient (yes, I know - as he should). I told him that there is no way that I can kiss him right now and I have no idea when I'll be able to again. He understands of this.

I don't know.

Day 1

I know it's only day one, but so far he's done everything right. And once I got him to FINALLY admit to it, it was like a flood gate opening. There were a lot of tears - more on his part than mine, I just went completely numb. I still expect to wake up from this horrible nightmare.  He willingly made an appointment to see the therapist tomorrow. He said he'll give up drinking and meet any other demands that I make of him. I called my doctor this morning and increased my Zoloft dose.  Because this has gone on for 6 months and it's become pretty public within my Mommy group, there's a good chance that I lost some friends along the way. 

I've never felt so alone.

The Day the Bottom Fell out.

"You know, it's hard for me to trust you when I don't have actual proof one way or the other.  We could survive an affair, it's the lying that I would have trouble forgiving."  He's still agitated.  He throws his arms up and says "Well, you might as well assume that I fucked her then!"  I asked quietly "Did you?"

......No answer.

"Did you?!"

......No answer.  He won't even look at me.

"Okay, I'm going to assume by your lack of answer that you did."

 [Pause]

"DID YOU??"

"I did," he whispered as the tears started to fall.

He sent the kids up to their room and then began to recount what actually happened throughout the last 7 months.  How he would tell me that he was going shooting and would go to her house instead.  How the day he had her over to help me get ready for my party, they fucked in my bathroom.  How he told me that he was driving some friends around for his bachelor party and spent the night at her house instead.  How he went her house THE DAY after our third child was born because he was upset that we weren't doing anything for his birthday - since I was still in the hospital.

I felt my whole body go numb.  I could hear the words he was saying, but I felt like I was having an out of body experience.  This was not my life.  This was not my husband.  This is not the person that I have known and loved for nearly half my lifetime.  THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING!!!!  I was in utter and complete shock.

We talked for quite a while.  He let me ask any questions that I had, pausing only to wipe his tears or blow his nose.  We had the calmest conversation that we've had to date about The Whore.  Eventually we both grew tired and decided to try and get some sleep.  He easily slipped into a slumber.  I, on the other hand, tossed and turned for most of the night.  I had images of the two of them, conversations between The Mister and I, conversations between The Whore and I, conversations between The Mister and The Whore, and  revenge plans running through my head all night.  I think I got a total of about 45 minutes of sleep.