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A breakthrough towards happiness


I have just had a breakthrough….and it has NOTHING to do with my husband’s affair.  Well, that is not completely true. this discovery has provided me with answers to so much in my life, that it will have tremendous impact on my marriage moving forward, my relationships, my self-image, the way I see the world.

I posted a few weeks ago about some huge fallout that happened while my family and I were away on vacation.  Within a one week period, I lost my lawyer, was angrily dismissed by a long time family friend, and estranged from my aunt’s life completely.  It was as if a bunch of people close to me were all killed in a plane crash at the same time.  POOF, they were gone.   I also learned that my mother was capable of a deceit I didn’t believe could be possible – from a mother.

I’ve been to therapy 4 times since the last post.  Twice with my individual therapist, and twice with my marital therapist.  Before I’d even set food in their offices, I had started researching the internet for mother-daughter relationships.  I wanted to know more about the deceit that can happen, the betrayal, the pain, the complexities.  What I came across was something absolutely amazing   I came across a site that talks about emotional invalidation , a form of psychological abuse whereby someone continuously invalidates the feelings and experiences of another person, denies that events happened, recreates history for them, minimizes their pains, their hurts, and makes them feel faulty for having felt them in the first place.  It is one of the most vicious forms of emotional abuse, and I’d never heard of it, and yet I have lived it my whole life.

When I say that stumbling upon that site was amazing, it is an understatement. It was completely transformational for me.  In reading all of the ways that people can be invalidated, so many of them were familiar to me.  My parents were both that way, my mother most of all.  Throughout my life and childhood, I’d heard about 85% of the things on the list, things like: “you are so overly dramatic”, “why can’t you just be like _______”, “why do you always have to be so hard to deal with?”, “that never happened”, “you have a very vivid imagination”.    All my life, I’ve had this tense relationship with my mother, and I didn’t know why.  I knew there was something odd, and I knew she was never wrong, but now I have a term for what has been happening.  Ladies and Gentlemen, I have been invalidated emotionally my entire life.   There, I said it, and it felt great.

Well that is just the tip of the iceberg.  Knowing that this has been happening, I started to feel angry.  I started to feel sad.   “Why would she do that to me?”.  I started to feel sorry for myself, “Why can’t my mother love me for who I am, and accept my feelings?”.  I’ve always lived with a hope that maybe someday, she would see.  Maybe someday, I would be able to find a way to talk to her that would turn things around.  I just needed to find the magic method of making her hear me.

Sitting in my therapist’s office yesterday, with my husband at my side, I told him about what I had learned about ’emotional invalidation’, and how I really felt as though I understood better why I do the things that I do.  For example, as a result of all of the years of not being heard, my feelings not being accepted, my reality being rejected and replaced with her version of events, I find that I do not ask for what I need from people.  I take care of things myself, and don’t ask anyone for help – ever.  In my world, asking for things, and sticking your neck out claiming that you NEED something means that you are going to have your neck cut off.  You will be ridiculed for being ‘needy’, and then you will be told that your feelings don’t matter.  There will be put-downs, cloaked in claims of being ‘concerned’, and insidious comments that injure but that can all be denied under the guise of “we are just trying to help you”.

Sitting across from my therapist, I told him that with my mother dying, I really felt the need to make this right.  I wanted to talk to her, to show her how she has impacted me.  I want the apology.  I NEED the apology.  I wanted to know why she would allow others (my aunt) to send me such hurtful things, and not protect me as a mother should.  How can she watch people dismiss me, walk away from me, not support me, and not feel the need to jump in and defend me?   Why does she choose not to care about me?   His response was shocking and eye-opening, and would give me the key to my childhood in one sentence.  He said ” your mother isn’t choosing to not give you the love you need.   You crave this as if you think it is possible.  She doesn’t do it not because it is a choice.   She is incapable of doing it”.  He then told me to look up mother daughter relationships online with a specific focus on narcissism in the mother.  “My mother is a narcissist?” I thought.  My first instinct was to defend her…until I read the previous link, and it was like reading the script of my life.   The description was uncanny.  It reduced me to tears.  The dissonance it created within me was immensely powerful.  I was simultaneously relieved and horrified at the same time.  At times, the pain of reading through it was unbearable. I had to take breaks, and yet I couldn’t pull myself away from it.  It was like a drug – I had to read more, to know more, to understand more.  I spent the next 9 hours combing through the website, and its related links, except for a short break taken for dinner.   I went to bed last night with the most complete picture of my childhood I had ever had.  What I knew was amyss, and broken, without an understanding of why now made complete sense.

If you took the time to read the previous link, my mother does triangulate my brother and I.  She selected her favourite, what they refer to as “The Golden Child”, and that was my brother.  She cast me as the scapegoat in the family, paints me as flawed and difficult and then smears me to others to provide herself with support.  She cloaks her comments as “concern”, and martyrs herself impeccably.  She is never wrong, I am always wrong, and I have never in my life ever heard my mother apologize….to anyone.   I mentioned in a previous post how my mother had taken the furniture that was willed to me by my grandmother as her own, claiming that it was “too nice for someone so young to have”.  This is a classic example of how a narcissist violates boundaries and takes the scapegoat’s things without their consent.  She tries to make me look crazy to others, something she has done just this week in numerous emails to friends and family claming that “my daughter has lost it and needs professional help”.  Because the narcissist is so careful in how they injure and so careful to paint themselves as caring, compassionate, and loving, people on the outside won’t ever believe it.  They’ve been told numerous times how flawed the child is, how needy, how irrational, how hysterical, how difficult….and when the child (me) protests the treatment and screams out “Look at ME for who I am, talk to ME, help ME, love ME”, it feeds into everyone else’s fixed false beliefs that “There she goes again.  Her mother was right about her, it is always about HER, she is so selfish, so needy.  How dare she do this to her own mother???  And now, with my mother on her deathbed, and my distancing myself from her and the pain she causes feeds, my distance feeds the beliefs further. I must be insensitive. I must be uncaring.  I must be all of the things she has claimed me to be.  How dare I…. It is the perfect lose-lose situation, and I’ve been carefully trained for this role my entire life, without even knowing it.  Until now.

With this knowledge, I feel like I am now armed with the tools to heal my past.  Even though I want to sit down and make it right, I now understand that this would be futile.  A narcissist will never see fault in their actions.  A narcissist can’t open up to see another’s viewpoint.  It would simply end up with me presenting myself for the slaughter.  I simply have to do two things:

  1. Grieve for the loss that I never had the mother that I wanted – that I deserved.
  2. Prepare myself for the upcoming grief of losing my parent and the resulting emotions that will arise in others close to us
I struggle with whether to talk with my father about this.  He isn’t a narcissist….but he has been married to one, and in being so closely involved with one, he has had to adapt and take on a role that he is likely unaware of.   Part of me wants him to see this from the outside so that he can have a better view of me…he’s been tainted by her for many years, and has come to believe much of what she says about me.  I want him to know me.  When my mother dies. I want one of my parents to finally know me, accept me, care about me.   But, in reading about narcissistic mothers, I’ve also learned that alongside each narcissistic mother is an enabling father.  He has to take that role in order for their marriage to survive, and sadly, it makes him incapable of seeing the problem because he is living inside the bubble.  I also don’t want my father’s final memories of my mother to be sullied.  I don’t wish for her to die with judgment form others.  Maybe, in a few years….maybe we will talk about it.  Until then, it is my issue to heal within me .
If you’ve stayed with me this long, thank you.  I know this post wasn’t about my marriage, the affair, the mistress, or the infidelity….it was about me, my life, my family and the person that it has created.  The person who is recovering from the affair with scars from her childhood which inform how I cope…and how sometimes I don’t.  All I can do is make sure every day that I love my children completely, and be the mother to them that I never had.  It stops here.
Thank you for reading.

 

 

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It’s raining betrayal folks, part two


In the aftermath of the lawyer situation, I’d been feeling pretty beaten up.  The last week had been spent with my husband as the middle man between two people who can’t get along.  He tried to play Switzerland as much as possible, fearing that losing his lawyer now, without another in our back pocket, would be messy.  To say that I was tired and emotionally drained was an understatement.   What follows is part two of the betrayal, except this time the lawyer has been removed from the story.  This time, it was an inside job.

My mother talks about me behind my back. She always has, although she will feign innocence if accused, and then quickly call me out as paranoid and tell me “life isn’t always about you”.  She always finds some way of putting it back on me.  I became aware of an email that my aunt sent to my mother in the days following a family visit that we had all had at my mother’s bedside.  My aunt, I should mention, lives in another country, and has seen me less than 10 times since she moved away in the 70’s.  To say that she knows very little of me would be accurate indeed.  In the email that my aunt sent to my mother, she expressed concern for me.  She had read on Facebook something I’d written about it being “Martini Monday”, and is worried that I might have a drinking problem.  I think that is a bit of a stretch!  She also expressed concern that I’d mentioned on Facebook that I’d been hit on by a Garbageman last week while wearing a new skirt. I joked that it must have been the skirt, and joked that this all transpired by 9:30am and I felt like I’d accomplished so much.  My comments were obviously facetious, and I was poking fun at the situation.  My aunt expressed concern that I am an insecure woman who needs male attention in order to feel complete.  Finally, I guess she wasn’t satisfied with my degree of sadness over my mother’s impending death.  She said that she was worried that my husband must have me on prescription drugs to dull my emotions in light of the affair.  Yes, my aunt had the information about the affair leaked to her from that family friend I mentioned in my previous post.  So now, armed with this ‘knowledge’, she is worried about me, thinks I am a closet drunk who craves male attention and is on prescription meds. It is laughable!  I decided that it made me uncomfortable that I was being talked about, and that her reasons for being concerned were false.   I felt I ought to reassure her that this was not the case, and set her poor mind at ease.

I sent my aunt an email, reassuring her that since I’d become privy to the email that she sent my mother, that I wanted to reassure her that my Facebook comments are jokes with my friends, not to be taken seriously, I do not have a drinking problem, I am not on prescription meds (although something tells me I should be after this week), and that she has no cause for concern.  At the end of that email, I also added that I was aware that my personal circumstances (the affair) were now known to her and asked her to keep those details confidential for me.

The email I received back was scathing.  Guilty people lash out when they are caught in their behaviour.   She estranged me in her email, telling me that I am killing my mother faster than her disease, that she feels sorry for me that I am so selfish, and stated that she does not like the person that I am.  She then said goodbye and wished me good luck in my life.  That was it.  I should also mention that she CC’d my brother on it, so he is now aware of my circumstances to.  So much for her keeping it quiet, she now outed it to my brother.

Now, I know where this all comes from.  I’ve mentioned it before that my mother and I have a less than stellar relationship.  She has never understood me or supported me emotionally.  She has always favoured my older brother, and when I’ve expressed concern about it, she pulled the “you are paranoid” card, and “it is not always about you” card.  She carries those at the top of her deck so that they are handy.  She has carefully maligned me to everyone she knows and orchestrated disfavour for me among her friends and close family members.  My mother doesn’t know who I am, or what I am about, but if you asked her, she’d claim to be the expert.  She believes that I am: selfish, rigid, inflexible, self-centered, egotistical, bitchy….you get the idea.  Her comments to friends over the years have slowly penetrated, and her martyr seeds of “woe is me, you won’t believe what my selfish daughter has done to me this time” have started to take root in people’s minds.  If asked, her friends would, even though many of them have never met me, say “oh her daugher is selfish and absorbed only with herself…that poor woman, she tried to hard to raise her right and look what this witch of a daughter does to her”.  I do detect cold chills from people at times who are friends of my mothers and are meeting me for the first time. I now understand why – they have preconceived ideas about who I am long before they ever meet me. She has made it her mission, in her need to see herself as a martyr and surround herself with support, even if it means maligning her daughter to do it.

So after sending this scathing email to me in which my aunt disowns me, she emailed my mother to let her know about what had happened and what she had sent to me.  My mother’s response to her sister in the wake of sending a hurtful email to her daughter?   Praise.

It’s raining betrayal folks, part one


If I hadn’t just pinched myself, I would swear I was dreaming.  This week has been the most illuminating and surreal week I’ve experienced aside from the date of the discovery of my husband’s affair. 

I left off my last post with a new betrayal, this time from my mother.  She had lied about my lawyer having said some ‘less than favourable comments’ about my husband and I, comments that I followed up on, inquired about, and in doing so have suffered the brunt of this lawyer’s anger for the last 10 days.  I also lost a family friend, although I am not terribly certain how much of a loss it is when she disappeared from my life a few days after the affair came to light, and hasn’t made a single attempt to offer any support.  My description of the loss of that support and friendship can be found here.  I think it can only be called a loss if you had actually something to lose.  She left a long time ago, so her recent angry outburst towards me just supports my claim that she was never really a friend to begin with.

So fast forward to this week…

My lawyer, feeling unfairly blamed for having had a side conversation about me becomes so enraged that he refuses to speak with me, requests a formal removal of my name from the legal retainer for our case, and when my husband asks to meet to discuss this properly tells him that he will only meet with him alone, and not with me present.  I was shut out and placed in the corner like a punished child.  It was unfortunate that he wouldn’t let me speak because after I learned that my mother had lied about it, I was now unable to give him an apology.  My husband mulled over his offer to remain on the case only if my name is removed, and our decision was that this made us uncomfortable.  As we try and unite  and heal in the aftermath of this last year, our lawyer is asking us to be divided in order to receive his services.  The immaturity and egotistical power playing here was apparent to me, but my husband hadn’t quite grasped it.   He told the lawyer that we aren’t comfortable with that, and that we both want to be on retainer (basically telling him that he has something we want, power is in his court), and he says that he will agree to having us both on the retainer….as long as I apologize.

So, here is this man, refusing to speak with me or acknowledge my existence, who has placed me into the corner like a punished child, and is now willing to let me up for air if I apologize.  Does this wreak of a power maneuver to anyone else?  I wasn’t about to play, so when he didn’t receive an apology from me within 48 hours, he sent an email stating that since I hadn’t apologized, that he was closing the case.  My husband reminded him that I have been busy with the death of my mother, and his response:  “Fair Enough”.

Not wanting to subordinate myself to an obviously egotistical chauvenist, the apology I was so willing to give days before was no longer tasting good in my mouth.  Giving it meant acquiescing to his condescension and prostrating myself in front of him in order to get what we needed – representation.   I am worth more than that, so I decided to compose an email that would both satisfy his need for an apology, without really giving one.  I expressed regret that he’d taken my inquiry about his involvement in a side conversation to be an outright accusation, and that I wished I’d had an opportunity to provide it to him when I first felt it necessary.  I was unable to do so, because he had shut me out, and so I told him that it was unfortunate that the apology now had to come as a result of duress and coercion, something, I said, which must be very unsatisfying on  his end.  My husband read the email, I read it aloud to him as well, and he determined that it was too long, and showed that I’d put in far too much thought and care into a matter that we shouldn’t give him the power of thinking we’d pondered about all that much.  So, at his direction, I sent a three line email, stating that I understood that an apology was wanted, that I regretted his misinterpretation, and that I hoped he could interpret this email in the spirit with which it was intended.  I received a reply that said: “that was most unapologetic”.

So here is my lawyer, asking me for an apology as a power maneuver to get the upper hand.  He is given an apology, and isn’t satisfied.  So, I pull my previous apology out of my back pocket, and send that one along.  That was the one that said that it must feel very unsatisfying to have to ask for an apology.  I also disarmed his power because I tossed back at him the very thing that he wanted to hold over my head (my name being on the retainer), and told him that I don’t need to be on it.  It is fine to remove me, nothing changes.  We will still talk about it together and make decisions…my name being formally on a document means nothing to how we proceed.  I’d just cut off the carrot he thought I felt so passionate about.  He has since taken me off the documents, I am no longer his client, only my husband is.  In the meantime, I am looking for better representation, and look forward to firing his fat ass.  It will be epic.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’ll take a betrayal with a side of deceit and coward please


Well it’s been an interesting week. I’ve learned a lot, hurt a lot and lost a lot. The interesting thing is that the crazy mistress had nothing to do with it, and for a change that is almost pleasant except for this week has been horribly stressful.

My family went on vacation this week. We started the week very tensely with my husband and I barely speaking. I’ve been feeling very worn out by this entire process, and angry at the amount of money this entire process is costing us in legal bills, child support and ancillary costs. I didn’t sign up for this to happen, and it hurts me for my children that this financial drain is upon us, and that this is a part of their life too – even though at the present time, they are not aware.

2 days into my vacation, I became aware of my husband’s loan to his father. Hurt and upset, and feeling very bitter about having been left out of this important family decision, I turned to someone that I knew would have compassion for the situation, someone who has had their fair share of spousal arguments about money – my mother. I mentioned to her casually via email the status of this unknown loan, and as expected, she was very sympathetic. What’s more, the knowledge of the loan and that it was kept for me fueled a brewing and previously untapped anger towards my husband. Her response? He’s done it again. She saw this deceit and secrecy as another sign of a personality that is untrustworthy. A sign that he isn’t changed one bit and has no intention of changing. Her anger was given new life, as if oxygen had been introduced to her flame. She was ablaze and ready to go.

The next few days were filled with emails back and forth, and while I was appreciative of her support, I became aware that the support was offered in an environment of husband bashing. When I would say something punitive about him, she would essentially applaud through the computer. When I stepped out of her crap-on-husband parade, her tone changed. I’ve mentioned, in other posts earlier the tense relationship I have with my mother, and how she drives me crazy.

In an email Monday evening, she mentioned casually, at the end of her husband-rant how she’d heard from her friend (this friend recommended our lawyer to us, as he’d done a great job getting her a handsome settlement in her divorce), how our lawyer has “no respect for your husband and thinks that you are nuts for putting up with him”. As someone who has just lived through a great amount of betrayal, learning that my lawyer has no respect for my husband (his client) and that he thinks I am crazy for standing by him came as both a great shock and a hurtful possibility. When those close to you turn out to be wolves in sheep’s clothing, my spidey-senses tingle and I worry that I’ve been let down once again.

My first instinct was to email him and ask what he made of my mother’s comment. He denied having had any conversation about us to our mutual friend, and wished me well in light of my mother’s illness. I didn’t feel satisfied by his reply, but I sensed he was offended by my having believed a breach of trust was possible, so I replied again, explaining why I’d asked the question. I mentioned how I’ve been betrayed, feel very vulnerable, and simply hoped he might help shed some light on where my mother may have heard this information. Since he had denied it, I also cc’d the mutual friend into the mix, to she what she had to say. Someone was lying, but who?

Within hours, I received two very angry replies from each of them. Their anger seemed excessive under the circumstances, but I understood they were offended and that may have fueled their anger. I had hoped, however, that as friends, they would understand why I would have asked, and offered to help me uncover the truth. Instead, the lawyer has stepped off of our case, and the mutual friend who has known me since birth has said that she is both “appauled” at my suggestion that she has talked about me, and when I emailed to explain why I’d asked the question, was told that my continuation of this was feeding her ongoing disappointment.

In one foul swoop, I’d lost both a lawyer and a friend.

I should mention that this friend was blogged about earlier, in a post called “loss” and that she disappeared from my life within days of the affair being brought to light. She remains, however, a close friend of my mothers, and has been visiting recently to help clear out my mothers home of clutter, clean and help in preparing for her eventual and unavoidable death.

With both individuals having denied discussing me and my husband, my mother’s comment that her friend had told her this made no sense. I told her the harm it had caused and she told me to apologize to them both, as they had done nothing wrong. “They did nothing wrong?! You said they’d talked about us and that our mutual friend reported to you that our lawyer disrespects my husband (my husband and his lawyer have developed a friendship over this past year), and thinks I’m crazy for remaining married to him!”. Her reply: “don’t take what I write so seriously. I can be colorful sometimes! Don’t take what I write verbatim and don’t go confronting people about these things!”.

A-ha! That explained it…there had never been a conversation between the lawyer and the mutual friend, and the mutual friend had never told my mother anything of the sort. She’d fabricated it, probably because the sentiment reflected how SHE truly feels inside and she wanted me to know it and think that someone with credibility felt that way. Unfortunately, her lie caused me to put two innocent people on the spot, cost me a lawyer and a friend.

My husband immediately got busy trying to repair the damage. He apologized on our behalf and explained that my mother had fabricated it. He also explained that my sensitivity to betrayal led me to jump towards finding out immediately, and that my email had perhaps been less than ideal, leaving both feeling accused. It didn’t matter, he was irreparably upset with me. My husband explained how upsetting this was to him personally, as he enjoys their friendship very much, and legally as starting over with another lawyer would be both time consuming and more expensive. The lawyer said that he would consider remaining on our case, so long as my name was removed as a client, as he wanted no further contact with me, and would only deal with my husband. We replied stating that asking a couple, in the midst of trying to heal their relationship and work in unison, to divide in order to maintain his services wasn’t something that would advance our case, and from a “friend”, wasn’t very sensitive towards us and our circumstances. It was essentially asking my husband to choose between his lawyer and his wife.

Our lawyer is now off the case, and we are seeking new representation. It’s a great lesson in:

1. Don’t send emails when you are emotionally intensified.
2. Don’t hire a lawyer who has an inability to manage conflict well (you need to be comfortable with conflict in order to legally defend people I think)
3. Don’t trust that your mother ever has your best interest at heart, especially when the past has taught you otherwise.

So here we are…betrayed by my mother, unsupported by the mutual friend, and dumped by my lawyer. That’s quite a week indeed.

You can only trust yourself


For those who read or watch the “Harry Potter” series. the mistress is akin to Voldemort in that we don’t refer to her by her first name.  She is “she who shall not be named” in our home.  We prefer to refer to her as “nutcase”, “whacko”, “psycho-bitch”, or more commonly by just her last name.  Our lawyers and marital therapists do the same.   Her name is poison in my mouth and leaves an aftertaste not to mention an emotional reaction.

Hatred is too kind of a word.

I am on vacation with my husband and family, and yet it isn’t a vacation at all from the horror that I am living.  Reminders and triggers of the affair infiltrate my every day, and frankly, I am not sure how I can get past the hurt and ‘move on’ when it is put in front of me all the time.  It is like asking an overweight person to lose weight and putting them in front of junk food 24/7.  You’d be setting them up to fail.  I feel like the fat girl sitting in front of the twinkie, except in my case, it is the betrayed wife, sitting in front of the husband changing his clothes to come to bed, and reminded that the body in front of me has been naked with someone else, has touched someone else, been enjoyed BY someone else.  It’s disgusting.

The last time we came here on vacation, it was 2006.  We had only two children then, and the youngest at the time was one.  We’d taken a few hours to take our eldest up a mountain in a gondola to take in the beautiful views.  We snapped photographs inside the gondola of each of us with our son, and then as a family.   In revisiting those moments today, I showed my sons the images from 5 years ago.  What they saw was a younger version of us, in the same spot we are today, probably looking more rested, definitely looking happy.  What I saw was a man who hadn’t yet cheated on his wife, and a wife who had no idea what was coming.  I saw a son who would have no idea why mommy would one day turn into such an emotionally explosive and easily angered person.  It made me sad for both of us – my son and I.

I wanted to jump through the image and warn her.  I wanted to whisper to her to be careful, to not be so naive, to not trust so openly, to tell her that she would one day be devastated by a blow so horribly painful and emotionally traumatizing that she may not feel she can recover.

Despite being on vacation, my husband and I haven’t spoken more than a handful of sentences to one another.  There is a large wedge between us, and frankly, I am not sure it can ever be lifted.  I’ve remained hopeful over this past year that with counselling and time, we would come to heal the wounds that his actions have created.  We’ve learned the foundation for good communication, and yet while we logically understand it, when hurt, neither of us can do it, and we spiral into an abyss like this one.

In the car on the way home from dinner last night, I asked my husband some questions about his recent financial support of his father, and came to learn that he has been loaning his father $3K per month for the past four months behind my back.  Not exactly the kind of behavior you would expect from someone who is trying to be ‘transparent’ and share completely with their spouse.  Going behind my back and lending our money to his father without talking to me is once again a betrayal of my trust.  Chances are he feels, as the main breadwinner in our family, that the money he lent is “his money”, and, as he stated last evening, since it is going to be repaid, there is no damage done.  How can someone who has been told that transparency and partnership, honesty and reliability on one another is crucial in a marriage, go behind my back and lend money without talking to me first?  Am I not considered an equal shareholder in this family’s finances?  Am I not respected enough to be consulted on something as important as $3K per month, when we are already financing a vehicle for his father (let it be known I wasn’t at all happy about the car, and wasn’t consulted on that either).  Had I not found a letter from Honda mentioning the lease in his name and asked, chances are I would still not know to this day.  Apparently he feels this is OK to keep from me.  It is apparently also OK to have sex on the side and keep a mistress for a year.

Money is the single most stressful factors in a marriage.  Bring financial stress and dishonesty together and I think you have a recipe for disaster.  Cheating with money, for some, is worse than cheating sexually.   When you deceive your spouse, or withhold information from them that you otherwise know they would not approve of, you are being dishonest and cheating the marriage and the partner.  I fear this is a pattern.

How can I start to rebuild trust with my husband when I discover lies and withheld information about our lives, money, and family?  He isn’t being completely honest with me, and this makes me horribly uncomfortable.  I fear this is all a symptom of a much larger problem.  Apparently some things are shared…others are on a “need to know basis”, and I guess I didn’t need to know.

Came to also find out tonight that our lawyer who defends us has been speaking to a family friend about us in a not-so-positive light.  Apparently he has no faith in my husband, and thinks I am a nutcase for staying with him.  Now, either the lawyer is a dishonest creep, or the family friend is lying.  Either way, someone is lying and talking badly about us behind our backs – shocker: another betrayal.

What I pull out of this: You can only trust yourself.  No matter how connected you feel to another person, how cared for, supported, loved. cherished….you can only ever truly rely on yourself, so treat yourself with kindness and respect, and don’t allow others to trudge on you, or take advantage of you.  People come and go in your life, but you will always be left with you – the only person who has ever had your best interest at heart.

Feeling very sad, and very alone.

Amnesia


I sometimes wish I could induce amnesia and completely forget my husband’s affair. I’ve been plagued with thoughts recently about the affair, the details, and my mind has been swarming with visions of the details he’s given me. I’m not sure why they are surfacing now, 15 months after discovery. All I know is that I am tired. I am tired of these thoughts consuming my every day. It is like torture. It is something I can’t clear from my mind and the pain, while no longer an acute sting, has become a dull pain that lingers and is ever present. It’s like a headache that mulls just under the surface. If you distract yourself, you can almost forget that it’s there, but then you turn your head, step into a lit room, hear a noise….something always brings you back. There are triggers everywhere.

I’ve been wondering lately about amnesia and whether it would be physiologically possible to induce amnesia. I know you can’t forget specifics – you’d have to wipe
it ALL. Start over. Begin again. I am willing.

The pain of living with this event in my life is so overwhelming that I almost wish i could forget. Wiping my memory would mean forgetting my childhood (not a bad thing), forgetting how I met my husband, forgetting my schooling knowledge, forgetting my children…and sadly I would trade all of that to never remember the affair. I’d give it all away for reprieve from this pain. It’s just too much.

I love my family and adore my husband. Rebuilding our relationship no matter how painful has been intensely rewarding as well. Unfortunately, all the love in the world doesn’t erase the fact that he is a trigger for the affair and every day that we are together it is a reminder of the pain and the agony that I suffer. If he wakes me up with affection, no matter how wonderful, I am reminded that it is a tainted love that we share, no longer a pure one. When things are going well, no matter how happy I am, on the backburner is he sadness that there was a betrayal and that what we have has been broken.

Imagine for a moment your favorite childhood toy. For some it’s a doll
or figurine. For others it is a game. When that prized possession breaks, we desperately try to fix it. We glue it, we tape it, we try painstakingly to put it back the way it was. No matter how good of a job we do on the surface, each day that we see it, we see the crack, the glued on bits, the tape – the knowledge that it is no longer whole. It now feels second rate, hand-me-down, bargain basement. Can we ever reclaim the pleasure we had from it when it was whole, or are we destined to see “broken” everytime we look at it?

This plague is why I wish there was a way to forget…to make it all go away…even if I’d lose everything else in the process. Most days, I’d make that trade.

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