Tearing at the Fabric

Of the space-time continuum

Therapy fails


Oh, where do I start here?!!!

I had been to therapy – briefly – as a young woman. But generally, felt pretty emotionally and mentally healthy. Had not felt the need for paid navel gazing again.

But I literally can’t count how many different therapists I have seen since my life partner, Roger, was exposed as a cheater!

Actually, Chump Lady asks us to raise a hand if we went to therapy with a cheater, 🙋‍♀️ two hands if we went not knowing they were cheating 🙋‍♀️🙋‍♀️🤦‍♀️

My story kind of fits. Yeah. Cool.

While Roger spent 18 months fucking my childhood friend – and I never knew that he was having an affair – I did feel some kind of a shift.

We’d been together more than twenty years, three kids, built a life, worked so damn hard, and something had changed.

I couldn’t put my finger on it. So, I asked him.

Many times.

What is wrong?

“Nothing, Snooks. You’re imagining things.”

But the feeling never went away.

I asked him to come to couples counselling with me.


He refused.

I begged. Please! Please come and help me understand why things feel so off. Surely you feel it too?

“Nope. Everything is fine. Give me a hug.” You’re crazy, woman…

Gaslighting much?

But, I knew everything wasn’t fine.

Still not suspecting an affair.

So, I booked the first couples’ counselling session. Feeling sure he would come, once he realised I was serious. That I needed some support.


Not at all.

I ended up going to three sessions!


Still no clue he was cheating. Just feeling that something was awry with us.

He admitted after Leanne exposed their affair to me, that he was scared that if he went, the counsellor would see he was cheating.

And the part that stood out to me here was that obviously he didn’t want to stop. He didn’t want to save us.

He never understood that part. He thought he was being honest by telling me that, after the affair was supposedly over. (Umm, yeah, he fucked her again a couple of years later, so, over is a movable concept, right?)

I can’t begin to tell you how weird it was, going to couples’ counselling alone. I have no idea what the therapist thought really! He did ask me why I wanted to save the relationship. The unspoken part being, “when he doesn’t even value you, or the relationship enough to even ‘humour’ you by coming to see me.”

And now, I over-analyse EVERYTHING. Including really small shit that BG does…or doesn’t do.

Not even coming to counselling that I begged for? That was another red flag I sailed on by.

I saw so many therapists once the affair was exposed.

Rog came to one session early on, maybe 9 or 10 months after D-day, when I was suicidal. It wasn’t for him, he thought counselling was for me.

Because I was crazy.

But we knew nothing about therapy. And unknowingly picked a Christian based counsellor. He was haphazard, and not a good fit. Actually did not turn up for TWO sessions! Not a great strategy for a suicidal client. I just felt that once again, my worth was negligible. Not even worth trying to help.

I finally got Roger to couples’ counselling years after his affair.

And it was eye opening!

This soft, kind man I had loved for 25 years, whom I chose because of his kindness, his emotional intelligence, didn’t have a CLUE!

Seriously, it was almost embarrassing watching him not understand the questions. Go off on weird tangents, to be brought back by the counsellor. Then have to have the simple question broken down for him.

Spoon fed, but still not knowing how to swallow.

That was when I finally got it.

Roger did not understand.

Had zero empathy for me, and what he had done. And he had no real desire to look at it all, work out who he is.

Well, not for me, at least

This was the counsellor who told me he suspected Roger is a love addict. His self worth is tied to someone “special” thinking the sun shines out of his arse. Some childhood damage, for sure.

Still gets me. That you can love someone for decades, and not get that they don’t care about you. That you are just the current vessel that is providing them with “love.”

Or the kibbles they are addicted to.

4 thoughts on “Therapy fails

  1. “Roger did not understand.” It’s amazing, isn’t it? I never saw how little empathy my husband had for me until post-DDay. Watching him have to be taught how to give an appropriate crap was just… stunning. I guess you don’t learn it if you never see it modeled? Sad.

    • The strangest thing to me, BA, is that until Leanne, I would have SWORN he was an empath. That his emotional intelligence was really high. We were so, so close. I thought we were soulmates. I had no clue of his real self. And that scares me so much. I really thought I knew him. We were pretty entwined. All mind fuckery.

  2. My own DDay was a year ago June 4th. Your blog has been a healing resource I come back to regularly. There is something so similar in your voice that pulls at me, and although I have never commented I am cheering you on from a continent away. As a baby on this journey I feel naive in thinking I could share a good therapy resource that you haven’t already been in orbit of. But I am going to anyway because this therapist has lived it, she gets it, she has seen it all (every gamut) and she has a gift to help us heal ourselves. I posted a link to her website below where you can find her free resources to check out. Hopefully this sounds more like a newbie stepping outside her comfort zone than a sales pitch! I wish you well and thank you for posting the real and raw of your journey.

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