When it hits, it hits hard.

Sometimes I get lulled by the stretches where I do well. When I can deal with the triggers quickly and move on.

This morning wasn’t like that. I had gotten breakfast and lunch ready for my kids. Ate with them. We went through our usual routine for the morning. We sang the same “Good Morning Lord”song I’ve been singing with them since my daughter was just a one year old. We said what we were thankful for. Sometimes I read to them from my favorite kids Bible- The Children’s Storybook Bible. We close out little routine with the Lord’s Prayer.

I made a to do list before family comes to visit tomorrow and through the weekend.  I added some silly things on it to make my kids laugh, and they did. I tried to get them to dance to Ed Sheeran with me, they refused and complained that I was going to make them miss the bus.

We got in the car, picked up my daughter’s buddy from her house and got to the bus stop. My daughter and her friend got on with a quick wave and smile. My son sat by the window side where he could see me, and did his usual sweet tracing out I love you till the bus pulled away. I was happy. My heart was full.

So it was really a great morning.  I got into my car to drive back home. Then it hit- as I see my house, the thought of him bringing her here. Not once but twice. Once again I’m wondering what the hell he was thinking?  The selfishness of it all!! Did he even think it was wrong? Did he have any second thoughts or was he just consumed by the idea of getting fucked that he didn’t care?  Really, either way in the end it doesn’t matter- because he chose himself!’ Not me, not our kids. He chose himself.

Dear Husband- when I think of times like this, I hate you! Because this is who YOU decided to be. This is who you allowed yourself to be! I think of you and my head fills up once again with all the things I have already said to your face. You are a fucking, selfish,  asshole, a piece of shit. A fucking liar, a coward, a cheat, a squanderer of every good gift you receive! I am disgusted by you and ashamed of the person you are. I can’t stand you!!! I can’t stand you!! I can’t stand you!!!!  I can’t stand being near you. I can’t stand being touched by you or even having you look at me. I hate that you’re my husband and the father of my children. I am ashamed that you are my husband and the father of my children. You don’t deserve us and we deserve better!!! You are so fucking gross to me. Who the fuck are you, but an absolute and complete joke???

What do you think of yourself? Do you think you’re cool?  Desired by women? Can’t you see yourself for what you really are?? You are so pathetic- a grown ass, married man with children acting like a fool- that is what you are!! It’s so sad and pathetic to me- this you!  A man so morally and emotionally  bankrupt  that he’s satisfied by being used. A man so reeking with insecurity that he’s satisfied by a counterfeit version of life because he’s too blind to see the true value of all that he has already!

You would be the kind of guy I would roll my eyes at and shake my  head over- grateful that you weren’t mine! I would never want such a “man” anywhere near me, much less as my husband!!  So how the fuck were you so duped into being him?!!! How the fuck were you okay duping us, we trusted you???! Seriously I want to jump in the shower at the thought of you right now because that’s how vile and skeevy you are to me.

This, dear husband, is what I still feel when I think of who you were. I have to remind myself that you are no longer that man. That now you actually are a MAN instead of some sad, pathetic, puffed up – because you are so full of yourself, moron. This is what I have to fight through!!  This is the ferocity of the anger I have to quell, and when I get done with that there is the sadness. It weighs me down. It settles on my spirit. You notice it and ask about it. I start to tell you but before I can finish you tell me to think about now. The family coming- the good times ahead. But I tell you again I am sad. I need for you to listen. I let the tears come.

I know why you want to look at now and ahead because the past is filthy and ugly, and you brought it into our lives and to our home. You did. Your actions can take me from the happy mom I was this morning to the heartbroken wife I am right now. It sucks to be me. It sucks so much more to be you.



D Day, One Year Later

So initially I planned on spending the weekend of D day with my husband just focusing on us and talking about the past year- kind of a concentrated weekend, possibly more emotionally charged, of what we have been doing all year.  But then my kids came home with invitations to birthday parties and other activities and reminded me that they have a life and we are their chauffeurs, so that plan got nixed.

Instead,  we tentatively planned on taking the day off from work on the actual D day anniversary (antiversary) and hoped that no issues would come up that would require either of us to go in. Fortunately everything worked out and we were able to get the day off without any issues.

The night before, after our children went to bed, my husband and I sat on the couch talking. I suddenly became sad thinking that this time last year would be the last day I lived still believing my world, my family and marriage were whole and intact. My heart broke for me. I had no clue that day, or the majority of D day, how soon everything was going to be shattered.

My husband asked if he could give me something. I knew he had been working on something on the computer for a few weeks. He said he had wanted to give it to me on Dday, but that perhaps it would help me to see it then instead.

He went into his office and returned with a wrapped flat box. On top was a beautiful thick paper with lattice edges that he had stuck  tiny silk flowers in. On the paper he had written me a letter.

About a month after D day, while we were separated, my husband and I met up for lunch and he mentioned that he had brought stationary and wanted to write me letters, but he had been told by a couple of guys that he needed to worry about getting himself okay right now and not worry about me. They told him that I would be fine and that I shouldn’t be his focus right now. I love how people who have never been in my shoes assume they know what I need from my husband. i was devastated when I heard this because I needed and wanted to know what my husband was thinking and feeling at the time.

But I learned later that while he did think about it- he never actually went out and brought any stationary. It was my husband being his classic self- exaggerating the truth, thinking that thought was the same as action, telling “white lies”. For me it was another way of him saying I wasn’t worth any real effort.  Another round of salt to my wounds.

So finally getting a letter that went above and beyond what I expected meant the world to me. He let me know he was so sorry. He wrote to me about how beautiful he thinks I am. How much he loves me and our children and how grateful he was for our love for him. It was a beautiful letter and it made me cry.

When I opened the gift, I found a photo book full of times we spent together-  with each other and with our family this past year. Many of the pictures were bittersweet. At a certain point, for the majority of the pictures, I had lost it, set off by some trigger I would often become angry or retrieve within myself. So while the pictures were lovely and the memories mostly sweet they also carried with them memories of me being engulfed by pain, anger, and hurt.

When I shared all this with my husband- he responded that while he knew that those times together weren’t perfect, what he really felt as he was putting the book together was gratitude for so many things. He was grateful that I was willing to fight for our marriage. He was grateful just to be there sharing those moments with me, our children, and family. He was grateful to be there for birthdays, school events, vacations. He was grateful that we were with him on Father’s Day and that he wasn’t alone. He was grateful to be there to celebrate the last day of school and be there for the first day of school. He realized how much he had come close to losing all these moments and times with us. How close he came to losing us. He was grateful that we loved him enough to not give up on him and give him the opportunity to change and show us how much he loved us.

The next day we got showered and dressed and brought our children to the bus stop. As soon as they were off on the bus we took off too. My husband got us a day pass for a beautiful hotel about an hour away. We had massages, used the gym and then showered and got dressed again in their spa facilities. We then went to the hotel restaurant and had a great meal.

We talked about the past year. How painful it’s been. The things I struggle with still. The things that he still struggles with. We talked about his addiction. We talked about our children- how we think they’re doing. We talked about us- our fears, hopes, our plans but mostly we talked about how much we love each other and how forunate we are.

I could have given up on him and had every right too. He could have given up on me- and he would have had every right too. We both had points where we thought it would just be better not to be alive. It was dark, it was scary. I hate all of it.

Our love, though, made it through all that so far. Our love saw the worst of each other and said – I know you are not this person. I know you are better. Our love was greater than the mess. Our faith in God carried us both so far.

I met God in a whole new way. I was never alone. I saw Him have my back through this over and over again. I saw His love for me through my children, my siblings, my friends and eventually through my husband.

My husband and I laughed and cried through our meal. Afterwards we drove back home and picked up our kids. We spent the evening listening to them fight, laugh and annoy each other to no end. And at the exact time my heart and world were broken a year earlier, i was wrapped up in my husband’s arms watching a DVRed episode of American Idol.

Simple, sweet, everyday moments- they have a whole new value to my life now. I take none of it for granted and I’m so grateful to have it.


With D- day looming over me my mind keeps going over the past year. We have come far, and for me, I know i could not have done it without my friends and family.

Growing up I never had any good friends with the exception of a wonderful friend in fourth grade who joined our school part way through the year and moved again after the school year finished.

it was’nt until halfway through college that I met some really good friends and fortunately since then I’ve continued to make good friends, both in my career as well as at the different places my husband and I have moved to.

Distance, starting families, and other things have made it harder to keep in touch but somehow I have managed to keep a core group of friends in my life.

i found out about my H’s affair late in the evening. We spent the rest of the night talking, screaming, crying. I don’t think I slept at all that night. The next morning at 7am I called one of my good friends- she’s a mom with 3 young children. She could have looked at my name and thought I’m too tired, but that’s not the kind of friends I have. They’re so good. So wonderful.  She picked up right away and I immediately started crying. She thought my dad had passed away. I could barely get everything out through my sobs. She listened, she consoled. When she asked me what I wanted to do and I cried that I didn’t know- she didn’t try to sway me one way or the other. She just told me over and over how sorry she was that I was going through this and how much she wished she was still living near me, so she could be there physically for me.

My friends prayed for me. They spoke sense and sanity into my life when I wanted to be vindictive or when my actions would just cause me more pain later. They defended me. My oldest friend, who was heavily pregnant at the time, told me that she wanted to kick ne’s ass. As I told her the things ne said to me I could feel her becoming angry on my behalf. I knew that if she had ne in front of her she would have torn into her, and just the image of my friend and her huge belly fighting for me was the first thing to make me laugh after D day.

My friends sent packages filled with things to lift my spirits. Nail polishes with names like “hot stuff” and bracelets that had the serenity prayer inscribed on it. My friends cried with me, opened their homes to me, traveled long distances to be with me with their kids in tow. They loved me well.

My friends and siblings were my absolute sanity. My brother was always there when I was losing it. No matter how far down the dark hole of pain and anger I fell, he was always there to reach down for me and he never left until I was out. He saw me at my worst and my most broken and he refused to let me stay there. He always spoke with a perfect mix of wisdom, love, and humor. Not only did he care for me but my husband as well.

My sister was the same. Her love and concern for me despite difficulties in her own life was so humbling for me.  She told me things to encourage me and asked me to share things with my husband to give him hope.

Over and over again I would think to myself in awe- this is my family. This is the stock I come from and I couldn’t be prouder. This week I received calls and texts from my friends and family. They knew this week was tough so they wanted me to know they were thinking of me. They let me know they loved me and they are proud of me.

Most importantly though, they -just by being who they are, let me know that despite my husband’s affair and how much it ravaged my life, that there are still constants in my life. There are still people in my life that I can be absolutely certain of. It’s a priceless gift to know there are still absolute, sure things in life even when it feels like your life is falling apart.

They shouldered my pain and I will never be able to thank them enough. Family and friends like the ones I have are an absolute gift and I am beyond grateful I have them.



Eerything is so fragile post affair. When my husband came down this morning I was finishing up my previous blog post. He knew that after a month of feeling pretty good our date night last week made me feel like crap. Then the following day we were watching a police tv drama. The second scene involved a car and you could hear moaning sounds. My husband  apologized and quickly turned the channel. I was confused at first because it reminded me of us as teenagers but then I realized he thought it would be a trigger since his relationship with ne involved sex in the car as well. Then I just felt sad for the rest of that night- sad that what was once just memories between us are also now memories he shares with someone else. Sad that those memories could come and invade either one of our minds at anytime.

Before bed we discussed it some more. He told me that those memories with her bring him shame and he does not think of them with anything but disgust now. That he thinks of our high school days of making out in his old car with fondness and reminded me of some post D day times we shared in the car. I felt better but still sad.

After posting my blog I read some others. Other wives – incredible women who are living with so much sadness and uncertainty after adultry and I hate it. I wish I had some magic wand to wave and make things right again for all of us.  But I dont. My husband called me in the afternoon during lunchtime just to see how I was doing. I told him about the other blogs. Told him I was sad for myself and them. He asked me if it was a good idea to read them. I replied yes- while thinking, it’s not the the other betrayed wives or their blogs that make me sad. I’m sad because of what he did to me.  I know and understand what they’re going through because im living it.

We talked a bit more about our faith, continuing to fight, and just taking it a day at a time. We hung up and I was okay. Then later as I was working he sent me this.image

And I hate it! Is this what it feels like to him? Is this how he sees it?  A new romance? Seriously WTF?  This is hard and painful. There is so much baggage. So many things that make my heartache and bring tears to my eyes. every. single. day. Every single day for almost a year now I have been hurting.

There is none of the sweetness, innocence and expectancy that comes from a new romance. When I kiss him I’m thinking that my husband’s lips have kissed another woman many times and then came  home and kissed me. I wonder if he thinks she was a better kisser. I’m sad at times when I kiss him- those are not the thoughts and emotions any wife should have to have when kissing  HER  husband!

The line about getting to know each other again?  Getting to know him how exactly?  Yes, we’re trying to rebuild our marriage but now I have the knowledge and awareness that he’s capable of dismissing me, hurting me- of being an adulterer!!

i mean who comes up with these crappy statements? Adulterers trying to make themselves feel better? Trying to put a positive take on the shit they’re drowning their spouses in?!

Just because I don’t voice every heartache and let every tear spill down. Just because I swallow past the lump in my throat doesn’t mean that im okay and giddy over our marriage. I’m not.

i know his heart is in the right place. I know his intentions are good but when he sends me something like this I feel like he threw us both out in the ocean in the middle of raging storm and he got the life boat while I’m clinging to a piece of wood trying to stay afloat as the rain and wind pound and pound on me.


Life Now

Well the good news is that i actually feel like I have a stable life again rather than a continuous tornado ripping through my life – coming violently first on D day and then from so many triggers. For months and months It would feel like just as I was making some strides- a thought or trigger would implode my life again and once more I would be brought to my knees looking at the shambles of my life and family.

While it certainly feels good to feel emotionally settled somewhat now- I am realizing the need to not get too hopeful, thinking that it will all be smooth sailing ahead. This was made clear this past week when my husband and I attempted a date night.

We decided to forgo the usual dinner date and instead I made a delicious meal at home trying out a couple of new recipes and revisiting  some old favorites for our meal. The fact that even our kids ate without complaints was an added bonus. After dinner we dropped the kids off at the sitter and then went to a ceramics studio for a couples’ night they were having.

Now, I knew before going to the studio that it was in the same shopping complex as a restaurant that my husband and ne had ordered food from. I thought I could handle it- but once I saw the restaurant all these other thoughts came with it. The fact that he brought the meal to my house. That she was made welcome into my home and everything that followed the meal. The thoughts, the images were flooding my head.  This my life now.

I didnt say anything to my husband but instead forced myself to focus on the present and headed into the studio. Inside, they had completed ceramics on display- I was looking around as we waited in line to choose our ceramic and pay. My eyes then landed on one of a purse with a specific designer’s logo painted all over it. It happens to be a purse that ne had wanted my husband to get her- luckily D day happened before he purchased it, but again this brought up so many other painful thoughts. Things he had purchased her, when they were purchased- the lies told to me about it. Betrayal after betrayal.

I again pushed those thoughts out of my head, wanting desperately to enjoy this time with myhusband. Time that we had been anticipating. We chose our ceramics- two hearts that could be joined together. It was all going well until my husband began to point out some flaws with my ceramic- that the colors weren’t matching up perfectly with his in the area where they would be joined together.  He offered to fix it and instead made a huge mess.

The instructor called for a brief break and walked from table to table praising the couples on their work . When she came to our table she asked what happened. I felt like an idiot! I needed her help to fix it. I was angry at my husband for his nitpicking. I was angry that he had messed up my work. I was angry at all the thoughts invading my mind. I was feeling the weight of so much hurt and then the tears started falling. Here I am in a room full of strangers and my husband crying. This is my life now.

My husband asked me why I was crying. “It’s everything” I responded. He asked what I meant and I could barely contain myself. What did I mean?! Really!  He had an affair. We were just a few stores down from a place he picked up food for the two of them. They sat cozy together in our home – like she had any right to be there. I wanted to take my ceramic and bash it into his stupid head.

Instead I said you will never understand. My husband decided he couldn’t deal with me and said he was going to take a walk. Left in my own head I  imagined that he would walk towards the restaurant, thinking about his night with her in our home. I imagined that he missed it. I imagined that he was thinking how much more fun this date would be with her. This is my life now.

I took some deep breaths. Went into the bathroom to compose myself. Either the couples and instructor were too busy with their own works or were politely pretending not to notice my tears and the fact that I was now alone. It was sad to look at the other couples, laughing together, teasing each other.  I’m the only one with an asshole for a husband in here I thought.

We made it through the remainder of the project without speaking to each other much. We smiled for our instructor as she took pictures of us together as a couple with our finished artwork and then with the group. Our ceramic hearts came out beautifully.

We picked up our kids- thanked them as they oohed  and ahhed over our work. We then went home and ignored each other for the rest of the night and went to bed.

Some time in the night he wrapped his arms around me. In the morning he apologized for all the hurt he had caused with his selfishness and stupidity. He also apologized for not being more sensitive the night before. He shared what was going through his own head as he saw my tears and then the anger on my face.

After I got ready that morning he called me back into our room. He had taken our hearts that had been left carelessly on the kitchen table the night before and placed them prominently on a shelf in our room. They really had turned out so well. He told me again that he was really sorry. That he appreciated how hard I was trying. That he loved me and that just like our ceramic hearts had turned out beautiful despite the earlier mess he was hopeful that the same would be true for our physical hearts as well. He held me close to him and the darkness and coldness that had settled on my heart the night before was gone.

This is the man I know. He is the man I love. This marriage and our children is what we’re each fighting for daily. This is my life now- and it’s the bigger part. The best part.



The worst of it

im going to start referring to the ow as ne- even though she is a whore  I’m trying to remember that she’s also a human being and I really don’t want to go through the rest of my life hating her

My DDay is a few weeks away. When all this came to light and the sorrow was so debilitating – I couldn’t wait to get to the one year mark because I knew it had to be less painful and it is in some regards but it’s also harder in other ways. This time last year is so much fresh in my mind – last week I found myself wondering had my husband planned his trip with ne by this time last year?  Had he already called to make reservations for valentines Day? Had he thought about when he would go and buy the gifts she wanted? It’s a sad fucking place for a wife’s mind to have to go. There I am in the kitchen making dinner for my husband and kids wondering about these things and as usual the tears come because the sorrow is still so deep.

Knowing so many details about that time sucks.

When I heard my husband on the phone with ne on Dday – I lost it. I screamed. My young kids were in bed and they were so scared but I couldn’t stop yelling. I had snatched my husband’s phone, I demanded his passcode and started looking through it. The emails told me the worst of it. In the meantime I sent him to comfort our kids- he told them I had a bad dream and then proceeded to close their room door.

Both of of our kids were scared of the dark, even with a nightlight, so we kept their doors open and the hall light on for them. My husband, being a fucking asshole at the time, could care less about that. He’s more worried about getting back to me, so he can get his phone and try to delete shit. Knowing my babies were scared shitless in the dark, listening to me yell, kills me. It was probably 30 minutes later that I said I need to go check on the kids and I went up and talked to them and tried to console them.

the shit that my babies went through- the screaming and violence they saw between us is awful. The number of times I broke down sobbing – how do you process your mom falling apart- especially when you’re so young? Here we are – were suppossed to be making their world feel safe and secure and we’re a mess.

My husband trotted ne around so many places and each of those places became a fucking trigger. We would be driving in the car and I would lose it. It’s never a good idea to lose your shit in a moving car, especially  when your kids are in it.

I never gave thought to how I would respond if my husband cheated- it wasn’t even a possibility in my mind.  But even if I had, I would have never predicted the rage.The beast in me was out and wasn’t going away for a while.

I held onto his phone. I called ne back but ne’s an idiot and thinks everyone else is too – she tried to act like she didn’t know who my husband was. She knew her cash cow was about to be slaughtered and she was trying her best to stop it.

Sorry ne- if you want more than a job a 15 year old could do and a higher pay grade maybe you should have opened up some books in school instead of just your legs! Or, here’s another thought -maybe live within your means- there’s nothing wrong with living modestly – it’s how my husband and I lived for a very long time when that’s all our income allowed for. But hey- here’s your consolation prize, once he did start making money- you’re the one he chose to spoil. Sure, you pretty much demanded it, because you’re a whore and a whore needs to be paid right? But still you got shit that you had no right to.  You had no claims on MY husband! Made none of the sacrifices my children and I made.

Once the truth came out, I spoke to one of my husband’s business partners- he had been there for a couple of years. He knew ne well. He said she was always fishing for a sugar daddy- my husband, though was one of the stupid ones who took the bait. He thought he was special but to everyone else at work – he was just a joke. A fool getting used! They all felt sorry for  him- not me, not yet. All I felt was anger- so much anger!

My rage was so consuming and it was directed for the most part at my husband. I hit. I slapped and punched. I threw things. One day I threw a 3lb weight at him. He screamed, fell to the floor and started writhing in pain. I looked at my husband – there in obvious pain by my hand and my only response was to- say “good asshole- that’s where you belong” and to walk out of the room. The next day I could barely look him in the eye I was so ashamed.

The nights were awful. I knew a lot of details and asked for more. I found her online and hated her. I could imagine them together- see it in my mind and I had no idea how to make it stop. Suddenly I was comparing myself to her constantly and wondering how I fell short. What was her appeal? There had to be something if he had chosen her over me?!

One night the images wouldn’t stop. The fact that he started the affair around our daughter’s birthday was another betrayal. I was busy planning her first birthday in our new home. He was busy being a dick. All of it got the worst of me. I was up -cursing at him- calling him a piece of shit and an asshole. I told him he was fucked up!  A fucked up husband and father! I started hitting him. It went on for a few minutes, and the next thing I knew he was on top of me. I couldn’t move under his weight and his hands were against my throat chocking me. I was shocked. I kept waiting for him to stop and when I finally realized he wasn’t going to I said- I can’t breathe. Suddenly he jumped up off me and ran out of the room.

I laid in bed for a few more minutes trying to absorb the shock of what just happened.  How dare he! He had no right to hurt me any more! He had no right to lose it! I wasn’t the one who had had an affair – I wasn’t the one who betrayed our marriage, our family, our home- the very fucking bedroom I was lying in.   He was! I was the one who had to deal with all that shit and now this!

i got out of bed and went into the bathroom. I saw the scratches and bruises on my face. Fuck him I thought! Fuck this! This wasn’t a marriage- what the fuck was this – adultery, domestic violence! Who the fuck was I now married to.

i took pictures of the marks on my face and one on my thigh that i had gotten the night before. I was yelling at him. He started hitting himself and when I tried to stop him he pushed me away and I hit the nightstand in the bedroom.

I then got ready, got dressed and went downstairs. My husband of course was fast asleep – why lose sleep over assaulting the wife you betrayed?

I got into my car and drove to the police station. I was inside my head the whole time- telling myself why I needed to do this. When I got there though I didn’t know what the right thing to do was. I eventually called a couple who we were mutual friends with-who knew everything that was going on in our marriage.  it was about 6 in the morning. They didn’t answer their cell phones right away but a few minutes later the husband called me back. I told him what had happened and where I was. The husband talked me out of going to the police and then called my husband and told him he needed to leave the house.

there would be more violence between us two but that was the worst of it- those at least were hidden from our children. There would be others that wasn’t. Hearing your kids say they’re scared. That they think they’re going to die. That they just want to be normal and do normal things again. Its awful – especially when it’s all because of things you and your spouse have done.

The affair is painful enough but the lies, the betrayal- remembering all the ways I had been a good wife while he was with her. It’s demeaning and humiliating. I was sending texts, pictures, videos – so he wouldn’t miss out or miss us. What a fool I was- he was more than happy to pretend we didn’t exist. This was thrilling, new and exciting. It made him feel so good. How could the children and I compare to that? NO- he was the absolute fool! Because when he could have been with his family- who loved him, he chose instead a woman who is vile, greedy and self serving. She only wanted him for his money. And when she didn’t feel like she got enough she let all her fucked up shit show and she was seriously fucked up.

But he could forget all that and move past her fucking craziness and moral failures because he was a moral failure now.  He could leave us, lie to us, go away and fuck her and bring home his crap for me to unpack, wash and put away. He could scream at our kids and put them to bed in tears over and over again because all he cared about was getting back to his phone and texting her. When I would come up to see why our kids were so upset he would say- then you put them to bed, and I would.

He would go whole days even when he was home either not seeing our children or barely seeing them because he was out with her and wouldn’t get home till they were in bed. So the first time he tried to discipline our children post affair- I lost it! Months later when he told me that I wasn’t letting him be a dad by stepping in and siding with our son when he didn’t like the way our son was behaving, I didn’t care. You don’t get to pick and choose when you get to be a father.

The triggers were something I just could not deal with at all early on. I would find things from their time together and it would destroy me. One of those times- about 3 months into D- day it became too much. The pain of the affair, coupled with his complete lack of empathy for the pain HE caused became unbearable. I wanted relief from all the emotional hurt I was feeling and I took a knife one night and started cutting my inner arms.  Even as I was doing it I knew it was crazy but it didn’t matter- the only thing that mattered was feeling something else more strongly than the emotional anguish that was non stop. It was a low moment. Seeing the marks on my arms and knowing it was self inflicted just felt like me betraying myself. I knew how much I was hurting and too add more pain on top of that is just wrong.

When  I wasn’t assaulting my husband I was assaulting myself. Slapping my face repeatedly for being a fool, for trusting, for not fucking seeing it! I hated myself for being so stupid. I hated that I had married this man and this was the life that my kids and I were now living.

it was some bad fucking times.

Go ahead idiots, have your affairs!  Tell yourself  you deserve it, need it, that you’re missing out- whatever! Convince yourself no one will find out, and best of all tell yourself- you’re not hurting anyone! Of course you’re not!!









Ever since I found out about my husband’s affair it had consumed my thoughts. For nearly a year now, his affair is what my mind has been mostly fixated upon.  So it grates me to no end that still there will be new thoughts and questions that pop up.

Early on after discovery I would have thought by this point I would have covered everything but when your husband has a whole secret life, the treachery of it is far reaching. Every thing is now suspect. Every exchange, every gesture, every single thing that I recall from that time is now clouded in doubt.

I hate it. I hate the not knowing. I hate having to practice restraint, and not call him up immediately to clear yet another uncertainty  for me- was this particular thing discussed with her? Was it influenced by her?

Most of the time my husband doesn’t even recall whatever it is that I’m asking about. Its frustrating,  and I have to make do with general statements about specific questions I have. – “no I didn’t get the idea of buying that gift from whore. I don’t even recall mentioning I’d get that gift for N but I never discussed what gifts to get for family members with whore. We only talked about the stuff we got each other”!

Oh well that’s good- when you thought about getting a gift for family at least you came to that decision on your own. Of course you never actually went out and purchased that gift for family though. But at least occasionally our family mattered to you and we made it into your thoughts!

The entire time you and whore were being whores you mainly purchased gifts only for her- a means to an end is how you justify it. She wanted stuff and you wanted sex. You’re both so gross!!! The stuff you two did to make your relationship actually seem like it had any meaning or value is just pathetic.

What issad though is the first time you went away with her for a weekend you actually came back with souvenirs for our children. There you are pretending like you’re not someone else’s husband and not a father but when you’re exploring the little town with her you see things that you know our kids would like and decide to get them and she does the same for her kids- what a pair of sick assholes you are!!! I hate that you could be so fucked up. It’s so disqusting- handing over those gifts – making our family believe you genuinely loved us when- what you had actually been doing, was betraying us completely.

But I’m glad that when you saw their joy and delight you felt good about yourself!!  Really!!! I still can’t believe that’s how you felt?! No guilt or shame at all!! But thats  all that really mattered to you right? That you feel good and that the rest of us buy the image you’re putting out!!! Meanwhile your soul was rotting away!

How were you so lost? So able to live so completly in such a twisted way? How?!