(What If) It’s Not You, It’s Me

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affair, asshole, betrayal, cheater, divorce, emotional affair, fuck, husband, lying sack of shit, marriage, other woman, sex, whore

The past few weeks have been stressful around here.

I seem to constantly be reminding myself that my husband is an asshole. I married a fucking asshole who cheated on me with a married skanky whore! BASTARD!

Then I get angry. And very pissed off. So I don’t talk to him. And as for sex – forgeddaboutit!

My D-Day was almost 12 months ago. Last week, I asked him to print out a copy of every phone bill for the past 15 months. His answer? “Sure…can I ask why?”

“No,” I snapped back. “YOU don’t get to ask any questions.”

“No problem,” he said.

When I woke the next morning, they were sitting on my keyboard waiting for me.

I went through them with a fine-tooth comb. Every single call, when it was made, how long it lasted.

Were the calls made on weekends? After work when he said he was “working late”? During his lunch hour? I HAD TO KNOW.

I don’t really know what possessed me to ask such a thing. Part of me wanted to see the reaction on his face, part of me wanted to see him squirm, part of me wanted to see if he’d make excuses and not give them to me.

I sent him an email asking him to identify a number of callers. I have full access to his phone so I could have looked them up myself, but thought I’d give him the benefit of the doubt.

Everything checked out.

It’s so fucking dumb that even this far after D-Day, I still go psycho insane at times. I mean, really, you’d think I would have worked this stuff out of my system by now.

But no.

And to be perfectly honest, my husband is not a jerk. I know other wives complain about their husbands not doing anything around the house, but my husband will put loads of washing on, hang clothes out, take washing off the line, iron clothes, load up the dishwasher, and basically do anything he can to help out.

So basically, I sound like an ungrateful bitch for complaining, but HE HAD A FUCKING AFFAIR. And I just can’t seem to get past that. How the hell do you just let go of such a thing?

Even if my husband does everything right for the rest of his life, such as telling me where he’s going, giving me access to everything, being completely transparent etc, how the fuck do *I* move on?

And what if I can’t? What if I can NEVER accept what he’s done?

What if it’s not him, it’s me?

This week he was talking about investing in yet another property. I said no. He seemed surprised.

Because all I could think about was “if we have to split our assets, I don’t want to make things any more complicated than they already are.” Of course I didn’t say that, but I thought it.

Everything we do now, I have to take that into account. Once upon a time, we’d book overseas trips with a lead time of many, many months. Now I have to factor in the ‘what if we’re not still together by then’ question. And that sucks.

I know nothing in life is certain, but to me, my husband was. He adored me. He loved me. We were so lucky to have found each other. We were going to be together forever.

Now I live in this altered reality where nothing is what it seems, least of all my husband. I don’t know what to believe, or who to believe, or who I can even trust.

It’s like realising your entire (married) life has been a fucking sham.

It feels like I’m starting all over again.

I doubt I will ever be truly happy again.

 

 

 

 

Birthdays, Anniversaries, Fuck The Lot of Them

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affair, anniversary, asshole husband, betrayal, betrayed, betrayed spouse, birthday, cheater, cheating, counselling, D-Day, emotional affair, fuck it all, fucker, infidelity, love, marriage, other woman, sex, therapy, wayward spouse, whore

Last weekend was my husband’s birthday. During couples counselling, it emerged he felt ignored and undervalued because he didn’t have a birthday party for his 40th. So now, two years later, I organised a belated party for him. I hired the venue, we sent out invitations, it was a huge night. I don’t know how much he actually remembers from that night as he got so rip-roaring drunk, we got home and he spent the next hour in the bathroom throwing up. So much for a birthday fuck!

Anyway, the party was great. Unlike last year when (in the middle of his affair) he didn’t give a fuck about what I did for him, he seemed grateful for the night I’d organised for him. Last year’s birthday was one I’d rather forget. It hurts so much to even think about that day. I surprised him with tickets to a show I knew he’d love, organised babysitting for our three little ones, got all dressed up (which he didn’t even notice) and we headed out. He was so quiet, sullen even. It was an uncomfortable date.

Little did I know that every time he was out of view, he was texting that skanky married whore. Probably telling her that he had to go out with his wife for his birthday. OMG, how fucking painful. And she’d be telling him that given the opportunity, she’d give him the birthday blowjob of his life. And he’d say how much he’d lick her pussy until she screamed. And me, the poor fucking clueless wife, would be wondering why he seemed a world away. (Which brings to mind my favourite Eurythmics lyrics: “Last night, you were lying in my arms. And I was wondering where you were.”)

So this year, we had a big party. I looked amazing, if I do say so myself. I wore tight leather pants, a silver singlet top, sexy black stilettos. He told me I looked “hot” as we walked out the door. So did several of his friends later that night. I felt a bit giddy with all the attention but I must admit I lapped it up! There were many people there that night that hadn’t seen me in a while. Looking almost 20kg (almost 40lb) slimmer must have shocked some of them.

I met some of his work friends and one of them said to me “Your husband has told me so much about you…” and another friend piped up “Did he tell you she was HOT?!”. Haha, I had to laugh! It’s interesting that others notice what my selfish husband had right in front of him but failed to give a shit about.

Anyhoo, one of his work colleagues I do not like also turned up that night. Let’s call her Sheila. I haven’t liked Sheila since I saw a photo of her with her arm wrapped around my husband taken at their annual Employee Presentation Night (an event partners are NOT invited to attend). I told my husband at the time that I thought the photo was inappropriate for him to have on his Facebook page and he laughed it off and told me to not be so silly.

This woman is a huge extrovert. Married with three kids, she acts much younger than her 46 years. When I saw her at the party, she didn’t look right. She sat at a table most of the night looking glum and not contributing to any conversations. The next day, I mentioned this to my husband. “Yeah,” he said. “She’s just split up from her husband.” Really, FUCKER, did you not think to tell me this?? “I didn’t want to bring it up,” he said. “With everything we’re going through, I didn’t want to talk to you about someone’s marriage breaking up.” I kid you not, people, these are the words my husband SAID TO ME.

So yay, Sheila’s single. Did I mention I don’t like her? Yeah. Now I REALLY don’t like her. I’m watching you, bitch.

Birthdays. Anniversaries. Everything seems so forced since D-Day. My birthday was in January (about 9 weeks after D-Day) and my husband spent a fortune on me. I suspect the guiltier they feel, the more they spend. To show us how much they really love us, of course. Fuckers.

When our anniversary rolled around in July, I had no intention of celebrating a single fucking thing. My husband didn’t say anything to me all day. Finally, in the evening, he said “I know I haven’t said anything about our anniversary…” I angrily said “Don’t worry about it. I never want to celebrate another anniversary again.” Then I stormed off to bed.

Seriously, when your husband has an affair, what is there to celebrate on your anniversary? What a sham your marriage has been? What a fucking asshole your husband was to toss aside the marriage for some meaningless affair with a skanky whore? That is NOT what an anniversary is for.

So fuck it.

All these days that once had special meaning now seem like such a fucking chore.

I dread each one as it rolls around.

More Good Days Than Bad

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affair, affair infidelity trauma husband wife betrayal diet, asshole, betrayal, betrayed spouse, cheater, cheating, cheating husband, fuck it all, good days, hate, hope, infidelity, love, marriage, whore, women

At some stage, without consciously being aware, you’ll realise you’ve had more good days than bad.

Dealing with the aftermath of an affair is draining. Your body is in shock. You stop eating. You stop functioning. It’s tiring. It’s humiliating.

It’s just fucking exhausting.

So when the sun shines on your face and you realise you’ve had more good days than bad, you see a glimpse of hope.

What turned it around for me was a simple quote I read. It’s funny how one thing can strike such a chord with you that it forces you to not only see things a different way but actually ACT a different way. The quote that turned my life around was simply this: “You are what you think about all week.” For some reason, it hit home with me. You are what you think about all week.

So then I took stock of what I thought about all week: “My husband cheated on me. I’m married to a cheater. I hate my life. I hate myself. I’m going fucking crazy. I don’t know what I want. I hate what my husband did. My husband doesn’t love me. I want to leave. My children are stopping me from leaving. I shouldn’t have married him. I should have seen this coming. His father was a cheater. I hate that he has so many female friends. He’ll do this to me again. I should leave him. I’ll never trust him again. I’ll never forgive him for how he treated me and the children. I cannot even look at him. I HATE HIM!”

THAT’S what I thought about all week.

FUCK!

What a joyless, bitter, hate-filled existence.

I didn’t want to be that person! I DID NOT!

During the week, I read another powerful mantra used by a fellow betrayed wife: “That was then, this is now.” I love the hope in that statement! This is now. It’s different. It has the potential to be great!

I love that there is this wonderful band of strong women online who are encouraging and supporting of their fellow sisters going through this shitty journey.

Speaking of which, did you know affair blogs even existed before you discovered your partner had cheated on you? I can honestly say I had no idea. Only people who have suffered as a result of an affair go looking for help online.

On that note, be aware there are affair blogs that pretend to be resources for betrayed spouses but are really just a front for cheaters to defend themselves, blame their (non-sexual and/or non-caring) spouse for their need to cheat, and justify their selfish actions. Please, if you have been cheated on, be careful whose advice you read and take. Those of us who have been around for a while know exactly what I’m referring to. For those new to this heartache, tread with care.

(The first book I read post-affair discovery was ‘The Secrets of Surviving Infidelity’ by Scott Haltzman. It helped me understand I wasn’t alone in my mad thoughts, that my husband’s behaviour had indeed been inappropriate, and the basic need to set boundaries. I loved the author’s position that an outsider is either a friend of the marriage or a threat to it. I can recommend this book if you are looking for something to help you make sense of your broken life.)

As I was saying, the only people who frequent these kinds of blogs are those who have been cheated on, or cheaters themselves. Not many people just casually drop by to read how the lives of women have fallen apart because of cheating asshole husbands.

What saddens me is that in the few short months I’ve been writing this blog, it’s had more than 50,000 visits. That number blows my mind. So many cheats, so many shattered lives. Every time I hear yet another news story about how the number of prescriptions written for antidepressants is going through the roof, I think “Well, of course it bloody is! There are so many cheaters out there and cheating is easier than ever. The only way women can take the edge off the depression, the sadness, the anger, the hopelessness, the suicidal thoughts, the constant triggers, the insanity, is with these drugs!”

I am now 11 months out from D-Day. I can honestly say that I have more good days than bad, but this week will be a huge challenge for me. It’s my husband’s birthday. This time last year, my husband was a complete asshole. He was short with me and the kids. His nose was always in his phone. He bit my head off when I tried to compliment him about a project he was working on. He was unimpressed with the birthday card and gift I gave him. He was sullen when we went out for his birthday. He didn’t comment on my appearance (hey, I went all out!). He seemed ungrateful. He wasn’t interested in me.

Naturally, it all made sense when I busted him a few weeks later messaging some married whore telling her he want to put his lips inside her pussy.

But at the time, none of it made any sense to me. I was completely and utterly lost.

I am thankful for the blogs, books, comments and words of encouragement from all of you. Some are past this point in the journey, many of you are just beginning.

I want to give you hope. The days do get better. There will be a time when you are not completely consumed by thoughts of the affair, of them together, of how fucking selfish and stupid your husband behaved, of your pitiful life.

I cannot tell you when that day will be for you. For me, it came at the 10-month mark. Don’t get me wrong – I have crappy days where I ask myself what the fuck I’m still doing here and how I can still be with that ungrateful man who was willing to risk everything.

But for the most part, I try to remind myself that I am what I think about all week. That I want my children to grow up with two parents. That we can get back on track and create a marriage that still means something.

I wish the same for you, too.

SWxo