Congratulations Winner!

It’s funny. I have been thinking a lot about the last and only conversation I had with you (the five year mistress) since finding out about the affair. You know the one… during which my husband told you it was finally over while I listened and Skyped with the two of you… you being fully aware of my intrusive presence and witness to your heartbreak. During this conversation, with all the contempt you could muster, you said to me “Congratulations, Winner!” and over the last few months I have thought about this often.  This is because far from being “The Winner” I believe I have been the biggest loser of them all in this sick love triangle, except perhaps for my children who have lost their sense that the world is a safe place now and forevermore. And for that and that alone, I will never forgive you, try as I might and as a result, I end up hurting myself each and every day. For this sorrow, as we both know, only hurts me and doesn’t begin to touch you because you are not a part of their lives and you don’t have to bare witness to their pain.

Yes indeed, I may have my husband back but there are so many things I have lost forever or have yet to regain. I have lost my innocence regarding the 30+ year relationship I have had with my husband.  I lost the notion of true love and happily ever afters. And unfortunately, I have learned that the man I once trusted with my life is capable of deceitfulness and lies so deep that the Grand Canyon is not big enough to hold it all.

Sadly, I have lost all belief in myself: the idea that I can discern truth from fiction, that my perceptions are to be believed without question and that my feminist stance is a in-dwelling part of me which I honor no matter what. I have even been stripped of parts of my dignity. For those who know of the affair and the fact that I went back to a cheater, judge, I have somehow given up on my own sense of self, and my self- worth….and they pity me for it, thankful that they aren’t a spineless me. Yes, now I  have whole pieces of myself that have disappeared as I tried to preserve my children’s lives and my own no matter the cost to my own sanity and ego.

Further, where once I believed that my husband was incapable of  certain behaviors; I find he is capable of so much more than I could even conceive that it makes me feel emotionally unsafe. I may have him but I often feel alone as I wonder if he is still thinking of you when he closes his eyes while we are making love. I have lost my sense of joy and gratitude that I am alive because I no longer feel fully alive in this shell of myself which I now inhabit. A shell that my oldest son no longer talks to because he is angry at me as he feels I have turned my back on everything I have always professed that I am and he says I am no longer a role model for his daughter, a fact that may indeed be true. Now, the ground that once held the foundation of my marriage strong and steady is soiled and has turned to quicksand and what is left of the foundation is so unstable there are days that I don’t know if anything can be built on it to last no matter how hard we try.

But mostly what the two of you have taken from me is a sense of peace and all I am left with is an anger which rides a broomstick like a witch on Halloween. Here one minute, gone the next, casting spells and leaving behind ghosts which haunt me and rise suddenly out of nowhere their shadows throwing themselves throughout my life in the most unexpected places and ways. It’s the peace I miss the most. That sense of security which dwells inside your soul… quiet, restful, content contributing to a persistent belief in yourself and all you can accomplish. That stolen part of me hurts the most and at my age I worry that I will never find it again… keeping me in death tied to this thing I lost in life…forever searching and becoming a ghost myself. Oh, I do all the right things. I read the self-help books, I meditate daily, and  I try to practice forgiveness, but sadly, this sense of peace I once had is now elusive and I equate it to trying to find a lost diamond in the forest after you have walked a thousand miles. Although you re-trace your steps it is nowhere to be found. It’s the same with peace.

Even more bewildering than all this is that there are days that I still obsess about you, and while these obsessions are less frequent, they still interrupt me and my life at the most inconvient times. Like when I am finally finding peace in my husband’s arms, or while I am in the check out line at the grocery store, or while gassing up the car. Sadder still, I believe I think of you more than my husband thinks of you and it makes me scratch my head in wonder that you take up any single part of my day when you don’t deserve being thought of again for one measly nano second. And yet I do.  I resent that you now rent a room in my head when I never gave you permission to move in. I also find that when I think of you I find myself trying to I hate you, just so I can live with him. For the truth is that if I spent the amount of time thinking about what he did to me…to us…to our family,; then there are times I think that I could probably never live with him again. And so the blame lies solely at your feet.

Frankly, it would have been so much easier if you had been a six month affair. Easier still if you had lived down the block but being around the world made you that much more desirable because you were never put to the test, never had to live day in and out with this man or the chaos of our very complicated family. You never had to have a fight because he had to come home to his family or because he put us first. You never had to see us, husband and wife, laughing and joking together while walking down the street disturbing your sense of righteousness at saving B from the “awful” woman that he made you think I was. No, you never had to pick up my boys underwear, smell my husband’s farts in bed, iron his shirts or clean up after him. You got the fantasy relationship that I now dream of. That one that is free of complications because reality never actually touched it. Both of you were each others perfect fantasies because your relationship was just that…a fantastic dream. And therefore, the forbidden kisses you gave one another over the phone were sexier and more exciting than any I gave him. Nothing I did could bring satisfaction because you were mightier in his mind than I. And that mightiness overshadowed his “disappointing “real life with me which was all created in his own head to justify what he was doing and it was egged on by you. And as a result, during your “perfect” five years of Skyping, B got the perfect untested woman who would tell him whatever it was he wanted to hear, would listen and cluck with sympathy, all the while telling him all YOU would do for him once you took my place and how much you would appreciate him. Yes, you made him a King and he found wearing your crown was  quite addictive.

Sadly, it was not so much him you wanted but merely to take my life so that you could have my status, my home, my American passport and my “THINGS.”   I suppose the $50,000 he paid you for that three day fuck cemented that interest in obtaining my place in his life too. I am sure it gave you hope that you would be lifted out of a life of poverty and uncertainty because of “your” savior and our resources. And I have to say that I “get it.”  I understand why you betrayed me, the woman you had over for dinner with your family. You had hopes of permanently securing what you could only get in small very lucrative doses… freedom, security, citizenship, and “love.”

So, while you think I am the winner in this game I can assure you that I am not. No one wins in the game of adultery. Not one single soul. Our children lost big-time. They were hurt in so many ways and now wonder if their father is someone they can truly rely on to be there for them for the rest of their lives. You were hurt and I was hurt… both of us stripped of our dignity, left naked, exposed, and very much alone in an wasteland of empty emotions. I did nothing noble in fighting for B. If the truth be told, I was just a wife and mother who was trying to hold onto our family and our dream of what our life would look and be like all those years ago when we married. I was stubborn and petty and just angry enough not to let you “win.”

No, if there is a winner in all of this it would be B, the man who strung along two women, gave and with held his love as it suited him and who ate both from the plate of the secure and that of the fantasy. He got to feel undeserved admiration from the two of us, and your family, along with the rush that comes from being the prize. And he wasn’t left feeling “less than nothing” whereas the two women involved were.

So sleep well tonight knowing that you were not the “loser” and I the “winner.” This game of deceit and sacrifice did nothing for any of us except to line your pockets and to line B’s head with ideas of who and what he is not. And if adultery is the game for losers as I suspect it is, then the game becomes less about winning and more about just surviving. And all of us are now left just trying to survive the selfishness of two people who thought they had it all but in reality had nothing.

 

Away Time-Leaving The Affair Behind

Things really could not be much crazier at home. This week, when asked, B told me that if he found out he had cancer he would:

  1. Spend time with the kids and me
  2. Spend time with his siblings
  3. Go to Vietnam to see affair woman

I told him that is good to know and that I have a suggestion… why doesn’t he go now?Make himself happy. Stop the madness. Make all of his crazy…I’ve slept with this woman once and know her so well… dreams come true.

“I can’t go”

“Why not?”

“I have you and the kids. A job. Responsibilities.”

“Who cares. Just go. Be happy. Here is the deal…you take 25% of our assets plus we set aside a travel fund for the kids to be able to come see you. You can live like a king in Vietnam for the rest of your life. I get the rest of the assets to put the kids  through college, pay healthcare, and support them the rest of their lives. We both end up happy and you can be with (as he has called her) his ONE TRUE LOVE.”

“Really? You would do that?”-I haven’t seen him this excited in months. I thought he might wet his pants.

Next Day:

When asked when he would be leaving.

“It isn’t practical. I want to be with you.”

Geez…what loving and practical words. Makes a woman just melt. Yes, please whisper those sweet nothings in my ear again. Of course this is only the 100th time I have heard that he wants us to be together, he wants our family together, he loves me and he wants to be with me since I discovered the affair wasn’t over in April.

I also have to wonder if he might be a tiny bit afraid that she doesn’t LOVE him as much as he thinks and may be a tad concerned that she likes him for his money (and mine) which he sent to her to the tune of wayyyyy over $30,000. Yes, more than we have put away for our kids college funds.

Anyway, needless to say, I am weary and tired of this crap/limbo/chaos so for the last two days I have done something I have never done before. I have spent an outrageous amount of money on myself. As I type, I am sitting in my hotel room at the Ritz Carlton in Lake Tahoe. Before you get too jealous…don’t! This hotel has sucked.

  1. I arrive and my room is not ready for over an hour
  2. Instead of just taking my bag to my room they ask if I would like any help getting my bag to the room
  3. I arrive only to find out there are no snacks that you can buy in the entire hotel except one box of CLIFF bars at one of the shops. I had not eaten all day…I am in a luxury hotel and there is nothing to eat except restaurant food at $28 for a quesadilla. REALLY NO FUCKING SNACKS… and the nearest town is 5 miles away.
  4. The coffee shop that I later found out does have a few snacks… closes at 11 a.m.
  5. I can’t get a Malibu cocktail because “our restaurant is high end and we don’t have that in here.”
  6. The bar closes at 9 p.m. I guess light night toddies are frowned upon
  7. I bought a Noosa yogurt that I can purchase in the grocery store for $2.29 and the coffee shop charged me $12 FKING DOLLARS. I didn’t know that was the price until it was already charged to my room because you can bet your life I never would have bought the FKING THING.

I could go on. And while I realize this is petty in the scheme of things and I sound like a spoiled bitch..  please remember for a mom with two special needs kids and a husband who is going off the deep end; I didn’t need ANY MORE stress in my life and the Ritz added to it instead of taking it away. The way I see it is for the money I am spending… it turns out I would have much preferred staying at a Holiday Inn Express where I would knowingly been expected to haul my own bag to my room and there is a small readily available stash of snacks for purchase in the lobby.

On the plus side…the two massages I have had were wonderful as was the sauna. I will say the spa was very nice and relaxing UNTIL I found out that the spa automatically tacks on a gratuity for the spa attendants of 23%. Frankly, I like to determine my own tips thank you very much. And I owe big thanks you’s to Kristen, Kathleen and Michael for their great service.

Okay but enough of this bitching. I know I am fortunate and I should not complain esp. when I have two days alone without the chaos of home life. I am sorry. Please forgive me. I am dreading check out as i suspect  that when get the bill my mood will darken considerably and all that lost stress will return with a vengeance. But until then, I leave you with some pictures of the area…I will send you a bill for them later. For if you are staying the Ritz you might as well treat everyone else like they are too. And so dear Reader this is for you.

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How Can I Ever Trust Again?

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One of my biggest fears in regards to the end of my marriage is that I worry that I may never trust again. Frankly, I don’t even know how or where to begin to even attempt such a feat which feels on par with climbing Mt. Everest without oxygen. For up here in Betrayal Land the oxygen is so thin that my guts often feel as if they are on fire and an ever persistent stress headache looms as vast as when the wheels hit the ground in the Himalayan Mountains.

Here’s the thing. I wasn’t just betrayed in four major ways by my husband over the past several years…that alone I could probably deal with. No, I was also betrayed by:

  1. The mistress whose house I visited in Vietnam. I met her parents, siblings and had lunch with them. Upon returning home I sent her father books, I sent her money many times and I tried to find a way to get her father over here for a visit as he had been in Texas during the Vietnam War and wanted to return before he died.
  2. My husband’s sister who began her own relationship with the mistress. They emailed and she commented on mistress’ FB page telling her she was “So pretty.” This is a woman whose crack-head daughter came to live with me and i got her clean. The woman who I supported emotionally for years.

So two of the most important people in my life betrayed me and mistress’ whole family that I was trying to help. How does one get over that? EVER?

I have tried asking for help in forgiving. I have tried to let go of the hurts of the past year. I meditate. I read books about joy, letting go, and the like. I pray. I beg. I plead. I bargain….nothing helps.

For quite a while i was doing okay but in the last week I have gotten angry. I mean really angry and all of a sudden all these betrayals feel like I am dancing on hot coals…my feet and soul being scorched and burnt black as the earth itself. And with all that anger comes feels of disbelief and distrust that feels so vast, so tall, and so unending I do not know how I will ever cross it or get over it.

I want to trust again because I think it is so much healthier for you. Living in a cloud of distrust slowly strangles you. As a result our soul becomes parched and drier than the Sahara Desert until it is so dried out it just blows away like the dust that you have become.

I want to trust again. I want to trust men, women and most of all myself because with betrayal I have lost the ability to trust my own perceptions and all aspects of my reality. I have lost my ability to discern, to see clearly, and to read between the lines. I no longer trust what I see or feel is genuine or meaningful. I have become damaged in a way that I wonder if I can ever come back from. Does BETRAYAL=BLACK HOLE?

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I want to trust again and I know that it starts in some way with forgiveness…but how? How does one do it successfully and let go in ways that are not detrimental to oneself?

I wish I knew the answer.

 

Divorce and Getting Fucked By The Law

This is the way it is suppose to work

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It doesn’t work that way despite what you might believe.

Going through this divorce I am finding out a lot about the laws of this state and frankly  in this case, after 31+ years of marriage I am going to get law fucked. In California, the law is regards to divorce is this:  what you inherit it is yours alone if you leave a good paper trail.

So, say you inherit money as a 20 yo and you divorce at 70 (you were married 50 years) if you can show a paper trail of where your money went (we bought a house, etc) then it is all yours 50 years later. It doesn’t matter if you co-mingled funds or put both of your names on the deed to the house, you get your money back.  So if you put $100,000 down on a house and 50 years later the house is still worth $100,000 you get it. If you put $100,000 down on a house and 50 years later the house is worth $200,000, you get your $100,000 back plus 1/2 of the $100,000 increase in value.

Thirteen years ago, B’s father died and left him some money. Out of the 6 sibs he was the only one who was named in the will because the other children had nothing to do with him (except for one who a few years before he died began to have contact with him.) Only B and I had a relationship with him. We talked on the phone, went to dinner, had him spend time with us, etc. When he was sick I took him groceries and made him meals.  I spent more time with him than B. And after buying two houses, I find out that I am not entitled to them. Even after years of being on the deed, paying half the taxes, utilities, etc. which means in the divorce I am going to come out a loser. Big time. Worse, I think he elected to stay in Ca instead of move to WI or Tx when we had the chance for just this reason.

Really, I never thought that this would happen. Here my husband has been having an affair for four years, sent the playmate approx. $50,000 USD in cash, presents, trips, etc. I can’t get that back but he can get back what is in my name and has been for years.

To say I am upset at this situation is an understatement but at the same time my hands are tied. I can only hope that my husband realizes that the children will be watching how he treats me, that his father would be disgusted with him and that God might have a few choice words for him too.

 

Autism Touches Every Aspect Of Your Life

Autism sucks. At times it contributes to immense suffering for both the person with autism and his/her family. Sometimes it just does. Period. End of story.

Frankly, I have it easy if you consider the many behaviors that encompass the entire spectrum of people with autism. There are those people who cannot speak. or toilet themselves or self-harm. My sons have none of these issues. We are fortunate.

But sometimes I get weary of the constant pushback.The whole I say “yes”, so he says “no”. The fifty pokes to my arm everyday. The constant giving of some of the deepest parts of myself and getting very little back in return. The feeling that I am doing too much, or not enough, and either way believing whatever it is I am doing; I am most definitely not getting it right. Sometimes it is downright discouraging feeling that your choices are limited, as is your pocketbook, in your ability to get your children the help that they need. And for those of us facing mental health issues along with autism the chances to obtain needed services decrease even more until the quagmire you are in looks a lot like quicksand and it feels that way too.

Yes, I know that my boys are teenagers and some of this is normal teenage behavior but often it feels like it is teenage behavior on steroids and the doses are getting larger by the minute.

Over the years, I have heard comments such as “This too will pass.” Will it? When? Or “You are building character.” Seriously? We have enough character in this house to write our own sitcom. We don’t need anymore. So now, after all those years of worrying about offending others; I no longer put up with those people who “give you the look” or make”kindly” suggestions on how you could improve your children’s behavior. To them I suggest: you are not fighting the daily battle so you have no say. Keep your thoughts to yourself. I don’t need them and neither does anyone else who is doing their best day in and day out.

Maybe someday things will get easier for our kids. There will be less bullying. There will be more services. Schools will do what is right and give kids what they need to reach their full potential instead of fighting parents every step of the way. But until that time, parents are here engaged in a daily battle for their kids rights and it is sometimes beyond exhausting.

So the next time you see a special needs family don’t judge. Just give them a smile or a kid word and know they are dealing with more than you will ever have to. Then go about your business thankful that your family is doing well.

 

 

 

Shame On Me

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“Fool me once, shame on you.

Fool me twice, shame on me.”

Shame on me. Shame, shame, shame.

We are just about ready to close on our new house. We are packing boxes for the move. B is acting like the man I used to know…loving, taking my hand, looking into my eyes, telling me he loves me numerous times a day. I feel like a school girl again. Life is good. Until Tuesday.

At 7 am B walks downstairs and tells me he has not been feeling good since Friday. He needs to go to the doctor. Oh, and he feels guilty that I went for HIV test after finding out about his three year affair with our tour guide in Vietnam and he will get tested just in case.  Oh and he has something on his dick.

He returns home.

“So did the doctor look at your dick?”

“NO, I didn’t show it to him, He just ordered panels.”

“Okay, that makes no sense. Why would you go and worry you have something but not show it to him?”

Let me look. I see nothing. My antenna are now a mile high in the sky. Well, actually they were when he told me he was going to the doctor in the weird way he did so. That is just not like him.

On Wednesday morning he has had night sweats for three days and is up at 2 am. He is frantic. He tells me he is feeling really ill and has been sick for days and lost 6 pounds yesterday. He needs to go to the ER now. The man is out of his mind kind of frantic. Crazy nuts kind of frantic. Weird. As he is about to leave he grabs my hand and says:

“I think I caught something. While you took our son to a specialist on Friday (he fractured a bone Thursday) I went to a massage parlor and had unprotected sex. I swear I have never done  anything like that before. That is why I have been avoiding you sexually. I think I caught something and don’t want to give it to you.” (He is still waiting for those Brownie points!)

“Wow,” I say. “If you wanted a divorce all you had to do was ask.”

And off he goes.

That morning I hired an attorney. I am filing for divorce. I also asked the court to step in and oversee a large sum of money that is coming our way the last day of the month. I have to protect our family and make sure that he won’t get the money and skip town to Vietnam with all of it, leaving me unable to care for our kids. Do I think he would do that? NO. Am I sure? NO. I don’t know anything anymore. I can’t believe anything anymore. I have been living an illusion for these past many years. I also wonder if he is suffering from mental illness that runs in his family.

He, of course, is down on one knee begging for forgiveness. Trying to get me to move  with him while he “works on himself.” He is currently at a Catholic church praying for God to help him. He keeps sending me articles like “Five Reasons Christians Fail to Overcome Lust.” (Maybe the problem is you are not a Christian or you are trying to act like something you are not?)

Meanwhile, I flew to New York yesterday to clear my head and be with my son. I am trying to practice compassion for myself, love myself and just be kind to myself. I have had three years of chaos and I just want the freedom to grieve, take it easy and let someone take care of me for a change.

Our children who live at home are unaware of what is going on at this point. I am:

heartbroken

beyond sad

and wondering how I will ever be able to trust again.

I am trying not to be angry or bitter as It will only hurt me in the end. BUT…

my dreams have been thrown down the rabbit hole again but this time there is no soft landing. I am bruised and broken but somehow I will survive.

 

 

How Long Did You Ask Questions After Your Spouse’s Affair

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Today I was painting my woodwork when a thought about B and his mistress came into my head. The question was this: Why was he insisting that I get a job and said it would be “easier for me” (meaning him) if I did? I wondered, was it because he was supporting her and he needed the money or because he was planning to divorce me and if I had a job it would be better for him in court?

So I asked and although he answered the question he made it very apparent that he was not happy that once again I brought her up. Further talking revealed that he feels I talk about it several times a week. Sometimes he is right. As an example he said that earlier this week I brought her up when we pulled up into our driveway. And I had…there was a woman who looked like her standing on the street by our house and it just freaked me out and I said something about it.

So my question to you, dear reader, is how long did it take you to stop asking questions regarding your spouses affair. How long did it take for you not to think about it? A week, a month, a year? So far I am 14 weeks into knowing and sometimes as I am busy doing something (like painting, mopping the floor, etc.) something about the affair just hits me and so I ask the question that has come up in my mind. While I think this is part of the PISD, I would like to know that there is an end in sight at some point. After all, this  three- year affair of his has been exhausting and I would like to be over it…I am sure he would like that too but frankly it is my discomfort I am worried about…not his! Yet, I wonder with all these questions how do I ever grant grace and leave it alone so I leave behind the chaos? Any suggestions?

Post Infidelity Stress Disorder

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It’s been a while. Quite a long while actually. I haven’t been able to do the things I normally do as I concentrate on ridding myself of the negative thoughts and images that have floated through my mind since I found out about B’s affair.  There has been a lot of canceling going on.

“He is a jerk”

“Cancel, cancel, cancel” (don’t say cancel out loud or the guys in the white coats might come for you) Just say “cancel” in your head and then look around and take in what you see:

“Oh the clouds look big a fluffy today”

“Look at that beautiful orange tomcat”

Anything that take your mind off the negativity and onto something different.

Anyway, last week I had an extreme reaction to something B said in the marriage counselors office which cause me to stand up and say that I needed to leave. NOW. We were discussing a possible move when B said, “I can move and get used to the job while you stay back at home with the kids!”

End of discussion on the part of B even though we have had this gone over this scenario before and I had said that this solution was unacceptable to me.

And so:

My heart started pounding.

My blood pressure and anxiety soared.

I felt like that walls were closing in on me and tried to flee the therapists office.

I flashed back to the time when B would not take me to China with him and I “knew” something was up when suddenly he was taking a side trip to Singapore (which I later found out was to rendezvous with our Vietnamese tour guide) I didn’t understand what was going on at that time but I knew that I felt intense confusion and pain about why B was so adamant that I could not go with him and why a discussion was not “forthcoming.”

I broke out in a sweat.

I began to itch.

The therapist looked at me as I kind of said something like:

“WHAT THE F***!!!! OH,HELL NO! YOU MADE THIS MESS AND YOU ARE NOT LEAVING ME TO CLEAN IT UP WHILE YOU GET TO TAKE IT EASY!”

I explained to both B and the therapist that this scenario was unacceptable to me. That I didn’t want to clean up B’s mess and have to deal with angry kids who would be afraid we were divorcing and couldn’t understand why we were not together as a family. I would not be alone with a child whose rage would be intense if he felt abandoned and I didn’t understand why someone who swears he wants to be with me would even consider that an option and if that was the way it was going to be then we might as well not be together.

I heard something about B thinking of the logistics in a “practical” manner while I was looking at them from the heart. And then I left.

The next week I was at my therapists office and I mentioned to her that I thought I might  have Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and began to relate what happened to me at the marriage counselors office.

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“Of course, you have post traumatic stress disorder after what you have been through with B for the past three years. But in your case it is referred to as Post-Infidelity Stress Disorder (PISD) and there is a set of recognized symptoms that are brought on by the trauma of infidelity, ” she said.

WHO KNEW? A big sigh of relief escaped my lips…so I wasn’t going crazy after all.

According to her, often the offended partner has extreme reactions to circumstances because they are now operating from a hyper-vigilant state where nothing feels safe or real. And while it may not be as traumatizing as prolonged war or physical abuse, the experiences of the cheated on spouse often echoes the symptoms of PTSD. Symptoms of PISD include:

  1. Exposure to a perceived life-threatening event (end of marriage, constant lies, betrayal of trust, etc)
  2. Emotional numbing
  3. Inability to stop seeking more information about the affair or what your spouse is currently up to
  4. Increased anxiety
  5. Intense feelings of fear or helplessness
  6. Feelings of irritability and rage
  7. A re-experiencing of the event or events
  8. Avoiding things that remind us of the affair
  9. Repeated intrusive thoughts
  10. Anger or blaming of ones self (“If only”)

Obviously, I am no expert on the subject but since I have discovered that I have symptoms of PISD, I am learning what I can about it and how to heal from it. The one thing I do know is this it will take time.

For those of you interested in the subject you can find a good article that discusses PISD it here:

https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/rediscovering-love/201709/how-infidelity-causes-post-traumatic-stress-disorder

I have also started reading a book on the subject on the advice of my therapist. The title is Transcending Post-Infidelity Stress Disorder by Dennis Ortman, PhD which is available on Amazon. It has been extremely helpful so far.

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So I continue on this journey. It is a trip I didn’t ask for and one I didn’t plan. Sometimes it angers me that I have been forced down this rabbit hole by the person I trusted most in the world. A husband who selfishly who pushed me into this land of self-discovery. Yes, many of the things I have learned or done have been helpful but I still wish I had been the one to decide if and when I wanted to confront the issues that I have been working on. But for now I try not to dwell on the “what if’s” and instead I attempt to embrace this new post-affair life of mine. Some days I succeed and some days I don’t but if nothing else I am teaching my children that if life throws you curve balls you keep swinging that bat until you connect even if that connection is only with one’s self.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Worse-Case Scenarios

In the past  two-weeks I have learned that our tour guide, my husband, and his sister all betrayed me; some in the most awful of ways. Could there be anything worse? Yes, there could be, as I have been so gently reminded from above.

As I have pondered things these past weeks I have catastrophized, neuroticised, fantasized, and hypothesized. I have cried a fifth of tears  imagesand singlehandedly kept the Kleenex company in business. download

Finally, I could do nothing else but pray. So I did. In between sobs, hiccups, and the sorrowful sniffing of snot back into my sinus cavities; I asked for some help. Now, I am not much of a religious person but I have had my share of miracles when I have asked. This time all it appeared was that I received was a big bunch of nothing.

No, “I’M THINKING ON IT” or “YOU’VE RUN OUT OF MIRACLES FOR THIS LIFE.”  The only thing I obtained was this fleeting phrase:

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“Fuck,” I thought. “Where is the compassion, dude?”

“Come on, I know you’ve got better than that! Heck, you have parted seas and rained hot coals down on the wicked. The least you could do is a repeat performance.”

But IT COULD BE WORSE was all that was sent down from on high to me.

And then it occurred to me those worst-case scenarios might just be what was needed to lead me to find a slight bit of gratitude and happiness in my off-the-rails-life. So I pondered a bit and these came to me:

  1. He could have knocked her up.
  2. He could have knocked her sister up.
  3. She could have lived down the street and I would have to see her smirking face everyday for the rest of my life.
  4. He could have sent her double the amount of money he did. I mean what he sent could have been a four-yeardegree at a prestigious college instead of the equivalent of several semesters worth of education that he sent.
  5. His sister could be my sister.
  6. I could have gone to Singapore only to have walked in on them. Now that would have been awkward.
  7. His sister could have been his lover instead of his ally in deceiving me
  8. I could have sent her Victoria’s Secret which she would have worn for my husband instead of the money I sent to her and her family.
  9. She could have splashed the internet full of naked pictures of her and my husband together in Singapore instead of them just making out at the butterfly farm.
  10. I could have picked up some disease from my cheating husband.
  11. My husband could have become a polygamist.
  12. He could have fucked our tour guide in Chile and that would have been bad because his name was Hector.

 

There. Indeed, it could have been worse. Way worse.

So for now, I am counting my blessings as I head into the third week of The Day My Life Went Straight To Hell a/k/a No More Tour Guides For Me.

 

Betrayal III- Liar, Liar-Your Dick Has Created A Quagmire (And It’s Still On Fire)

So this week we have been:

Him: His therapist once, marriage therapy marathon 2 hour session

Her: Her therapist for three hours, marriage therapy marathon 2 hour session

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He was instructed by his therapist that he had to tell me the truth and answer any question I might have even if it is six months from now.  And this is what I have learned.

 

  1. She has a much better wardrobe than me. My daughter noticed this phenomena when she said, ” Hey mom, look at her pictures when you met her. Her clothes were awful but the longer she was in this affair with Dad she got nicer clothes, better haircuts and fashion forward glasses. Yes, the mistress has matchy, matchy shoes, dress and purses to accessorize to the max when she is walking the red carpet. I have NEVER had matching anything except boobs that have slid downhill as I have aged. Anytime I would buy a $15.99 TJMAX shirt B would say, “When did you get that?”  Anyway, seems he sent over $20,000 to her and her family in Vietnam. Of course, it was to provide baby vitamins for her sister’s child and for her to buy food for the children at the orphanages. It is just coincidental that her wardrobe could rival a rock stars because “she is not that type of woman. She never wanted anything from me.”

2. Yes, there were times that he was messaging her from our home and I would ask who he was talking with and he would accuse me of being paranoid and make me feel bad about the kind of “suspicious” person that I was.

3. He was the one who suggested that they meet in Singapore. When I asked why he was there for four days without doing business he said he needed some down time. I guess that means down flat on his back while he was ridden like a stallion. What I am most pissed off about is where is the THANK YOU card from her for teaching him how to please and pleasure a woman. All that work over the years, from minute man to rocket man, and I don’t even get kudos from the recipient of my vast sexual knowledge.

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4. He, as a rich middle-aged man white man, convinced her sister, a single impoverished very young woman in a third world country, to keep the baby she was going to abort. I suspect that one of the reasons she did not was that she was convinced he was going to marry her sister. Does he have any obligations to this child since he participated in a family decision to keep this baby boy? (and no it is not his)

5. This story is not unique in B’s family. His brother went looking for Russian brides spending all his money (and he had lots) on these women until he married one who would not sign a pre-nup and after their marriage would not move to the USA. B saw how his brother was soaked but “this is not the same. She is not that way.”

6. He looked into fiance visas.

7. Of course, he gave her up for me about two weeks ago after giving me a commitment ring on Christmas but continued to talk with her. BLAH!

8. With 10 minutes of knowing that I knew about them she put up pictures of her and B in Singapore along with a heart in which their hands are intertwined.

So as a wrap up. B has conducted this affair for almost three years while I was sending money to her (our tour guide in DaNang Vietnam) and books for her father. I ate lunch at her family’s home and met her parents and sister. He sent her thousands of dollars over the years and his sister was friends with his mistress on Facebook. She has at least four different Facebook pages with four different names. B told me he was going to Singapore on business, when in fact, it was slutty cum dumpster business. All of this while I was working hard in individual and marital counseling to improve our marriage while he was working on his relationship with her and making me feel like crap so that he could live with his guilt. Meanwhile, our children are falling apart, autism rearing its oh-so-destructive head and I have aged 10 years in two days. Oh, and the house we were selling…the guy backed out on the day he was suppose to sign.

And he LOVES (cough) me and wants to make it work.

 

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While we were working on our marriage he used to say “I am not sure I love you. I hope to get it back but it might take 6 months or a year or that love might not ever return. Are you willing to wait?”

To this I say…to be continued tomorrow.