D-Day Plus 21: The Epiphany

It had been about three weeks since Brad had told me about his feelings for Susan and I was reeling. I was in shock and hurting so incredibly much. The pain was intense. I had no idea I would feel actual physical pain. My skin felt burnt and my stomach ached. I thought my heart was truly breaking into tiny pieces inside my chest. I was going through the motions: taking care of the kids, going to work, grocery shopping, laundry, etc, etc but I was a mess inside. I hadn’t slept more than 4 hours a night for three weeks and I couldn’t keep anything but tea and soup down. I was pretending that everything was normal; when in reality my whole life had been drastically changed. I must have looked like a zombie.

We were going to the Christmas party put on by my work. It was at a really nice hotel in downtown St Pete. Brad and I dressed up and headed downtown. When we entered the restaurant I saw all my co-workers and their spouses. Everyone looked so dressed up and festive. Everyone looked so happy. I wondered how many of them were faking their happiness like I was. And it hit me: I wasn’t special anymore.

You see, my relationship with Brad had always made me feel extraordinary. I knew we had something really special. Sometimes I wondered what I had done to be so lucky. How did I get such a phenomenal husband? He was the absolute love of my life. I could literally feel myself light up when he walked in the room. Wow, someone somewhere must be looking out for me.

Sometimes I felt smug about it. I would look at other couples and laugh to myself about how much better our relationship was. I thought we had it all.

So, when I looked around the restaurant that night, I had an epiphany. I realized I wasn’t special at all. I was ordinary. Actually I was less than ordinary, because I had a husband who felt he needed another woman in his life to fulfill him. I was a failure. And my heart broke a little more.

As we were walking to the car afterwards, I started crying. Brad asked me what my problem was, so I told him. He became angry and told me to stop bringing this stuff up all the time. We drove home in silence.

D-Day Plus 457: My First Post

D-Day Plus 457: My First Post

Yesterday my soon-to-be-ex-husband sent me the hardship letter that he composed for the short sale of our house. There it was, in black and white, depicting our separation and the impending divorce. Only it wasn't exactly right. As in "correct". It was so watered down, missing all the true elements of what really happened. What really got us here. And it hurt and made me mad, all over again.

Anger is new to me. I've always sucked at it. And in my marriage I just gave anger up altogether because it wasn't worth the effort. I felt worse afterwards instead of better. So I swallowed it. The problem is, when you deny yourself anger, I think you deny yourself other feelings too - the extreme feelings are blocked and you end up just allowing and experiencing the "safe" feelings. Not a good thing. Not something I recommend.

Anyway, D-Day for me was November 28, 2008. Four hundred and fifty-seven days ago. Two days after Thanksgiving. The day my husband told me that he had "feelings" for his best friend's wife. The two had a connection. And he wanted my permission to "explore" that connection. He said he still loved me, and that this was something that he wanted to develop as well. When I asked him what he meant by that, he said he thought we could decide this together.

I was in shock. And tremendous pain. Actual, physical pain. How could this happen? How did this happen? Get me out of this!!!! As you can imagine, I said no. I told him (through tears and hiccups and snot) that if this was what he needed, then he would have to explore it without me. He hugged me and said that it was fine.

The betrayal was immense. This woman he had developed a connection with was a friend of mine. Our families spent the weekends together. Our children were friends who played sports together. And all the while, behind my back, there was a "connection" being developed. So when I received an email from her inviting us to her son's birthday party, I asked my husband if he wanted me to tell her that we weren't going or if he wanted to do it. He couldn't believe that I didn't want to go. That I didn't want to spend any more time with these people. And then he became furious. That fury, combined with the betrayal, was the beginning of our end.

With this blog, I plan to tell the real story of what happened. The hardship letter being used for the short sale is a pitiful version. It is a lie. And the truth needs to be told. I've been silent and mild-mannered for too long. So, even though my wings have been broken, I'm picking up a broomstick and flying forward.