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!