I think most of us have a good understanding of the utter shock of DDay.
You think you could not possibly ever be hurt any more than at that moment.
Let me agree with Lauren Beth here, another spouse who stayed, believing her husband wanted change. Then he cheated again. Oh yeah. This is absolutely the worst I have experienced so far. That I worked so hard against all my gut feelings that he did not do the work – rather just waited it out, as he said to CrazyKat’s Blue Eyes, when they stayed with us, “you know these women, they just need to get over it” – found my first glimpse of hope and peace, and he’d already been cheating on me again for nearly two years. While promising me he’d wait for me. Fooled me twice. Shame on me.
Lauren Beth writes, “My therapist had to work diligently with me to get me back to a semi functioning human the first time I discovered my husband cheated. This second time around is worse, and I am thankful I remember what she taught me. I would be in a mental hospital if I did not have the tools I was provided. If you have been through this then you know that at some point most of us end up in the hospital.”
Fuck. Yes. I have come close. Today I had to get a couple of stitches where I cut too deeply. My mind just could not stop imagining them together, fucking in my bed at the lake, where he made intense love to Leanne. And Trinket. Probably others. And stupid old one lover me. The crappiest sex partner ever apparently. Go me. Lying there in his arms, breathing in his intoxicating scent. Such dumb bliss I always felt. None of it was even real. I tried distraction. Music. Exercise. Holding ice on my wrist until I couldn’t bear it anymore. Damn blade slipped and I tried to apply pressure. But it really did need a bit of a tidy up. I couldn’t stop it bleeding, just two little stitches to stick it back together. And some bullshit story about slipping after work with some supplies, not knowing there were some sharps incorrectly disposed of, whoops, silly me.
Generally the cuts have been superficial. Not too often. I did get rid of the scalpel blades tonight though. This cannot escalate FFS. If anyone other than my new shrink knew…Jesus. It really is the most bizarre, embarrassing and scary thing. Like I have no control over my own actions. Totally an out of body experience. Middle class mother, employee, outwardly sensible and healthy person. Yeah. WTAF? Just fucking stop.