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.