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Memorial Day road trip

Hello everyone – I am going on a road trip to see my hometown for the weekend and will not have frequent access to WordPress.  I’ll also be with my husband and he hates seeing me blog.  I want a peaceful weekend so I’m not going to push his buttons.

If you have posted here before, my settings allow you to post comments without needing my consent, so go ahead and post to each other here if you need to “talk.”

Hope you all have the kind of weekend you want.  I’ll be seeing a new niece and a new nephew and visiting my parents’ graves.  I haven’t been home since D-day, and it’s just what I need to do right now.

-DJ

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Numb

My husband and I have not been getting along well recently.  He is acting like he did during his affair – distant and distracted.  The problem is I am looking on in sadness, but I don’t seem to feel much else.  I tried to talk to him but he shut me down.  I feel so alone.  Living with my husband, sleeping in the same bed, eating the same meals… I am alone.  I am strong and I am still enjoying God’s beautiful paintings in the sky, but I am alone.

Last night he fell asleep on the couch.  In times past, if I saw him lying down anywhere, I couldn’t resist lying down with him and snuggling up.  It was especially nice on the couch because we’d be smashed up together.  I always said that the best place in the world was there in his arms.  But last night I studied his face as he lay there.  He is an extraordinarily handsome man and still in great shape.  I looked at the lines of his handsome features and the strong lines of his jaw.  I had no desire to snuggle up with him.  In the wake of his recent behavior I am now struck by numbness.  My heart, which was shattered into a million pieces by him and still precariously held together by reassurances and tender care, is now being smashed into a pancake.  It’s time for outside help, but he refuses counseling.  I feel like I am watching my marriage being swallowed up by quick sand, and I have no way to stop it.

My coach told me a while back that he wasn’t worried about my marriage because I still felt so strongly about things.  Well, I guess it’s time to worry because I am just numb.  Is it a passing phase?  I don’t know.  A friend in my exercise class, who knows nothing about my husband’s affair or anything about our private lives, told me the other day that he thinks my husband is intimidated by my progress in our club.  Well, my husband has commented that I have replaced him as the star instructor.  I just laughed and said no way.  He is the best of the best in our club.  That couldn’t be it, could it?  I don’t know.

I’m glad it’s almost summer break.  I think I’ll go away for a while.

DJ

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Awestruck wonder

I live in a gorgeous place.  I am sitting at my desk in re-found wonder at it all.  My desk looks out over the trees of my next door neighbor.  A gentle breeze is rustling through them and I see birds settling in for the coming evening.  Beyond the trees, down in the distance, are the high rises of the downtown area of our city, sparkling in what’s left of the sun’s rays.  And beyond that lies the sparkling deep blue of the ocean.  The sky is starting to turn into spectacular colors on the west side while still a gorgeous blue on the east side.  I am awestruck and sitting in wonder at the beauty right here in front of me.  God’s handiwork brings thoughts of how lucky I am to be alive and to live the life I lead and to live in this house.

My husband and I bought this house just before D-day.  We moved in and left just a few days after that for a big trip.  D-day was on the day we returned.  I never had the chance to enjoy the house.  This house is intertwined with his affair and I hated it for a long time.

In their emails, I found that my husband had consulted with her all along the way when we were looking for a house and sent her pictures of this house.   It made me feel sick to know that all the while I was so excited to be moving into this beautiful house, she was a part of it all behind my back.

Every room of the house holds memories of my nightmare.  I was sitting in our living room when I found all the emails.  It was in our bedroom that I confronted him.  It was in the kitchen that I told him to move out.  It was in our dining room that I hauled off and punched him the arm and fell apart, a crumpled mess sobbing on the floor.  It was in our bathroom that I cried buckets of tears every day in the shower for well over a year.  I slept in the guest bedroom for quite some time after D-day.  It was in the office that I found all the receipts and statements that told the story of their affair.  Literally every room holds some kind of memory of the pain and anguish of a woman betrayed and used and abused.

I have sat at this desk every day since D-day and noticed the beauty outside, but could not fully immerse myself in it.  But today – right now – I am sitting here in awe of the amazing view.  I am soaking it in and reveling in the picture God has painted for me right in my window.  I am not hurting.  I am not allowing anything to ruin this feeling and the peace of my favorite time of day – sunset.

I guess I really am better.  Even though my husband has been a total jerk recently, I am unmoved by him today.  God is sending little blessings down all around me and in me.  I don’t think I’m out of the woods yet, but I see the path and the light up ahead.  Besides, why should I allow her to take the joy out of my beautiful house?  I am the one living in it and enjoying it.  I am the one who owns it.  It’s mine.

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There is a big difference between being sorry and being changed.

“There is a big difference between being sorry and being changed.

To be sorry means to feel bad. It’s a temporary little prick of the  heart.

But change only comes when we’re repentant. Being repentant is a deeper  conviction to actually correct and transform our behavior—our habit—our wrong  tendency.”                                                                                 

http://www.proverbs31.org/

These lines were part of a devotional called “I Quit” from Proverbs 31 Ministries.  The piece had nothing to do with affairs or forgiveness, but these lines within the article jumped out at me.  I believe this is the reason that many betrayed spouses have difficulty moving on and letting the past go.  Either the cheating spouse is not sorry or is sorry but not truly repentant.  In either case, the betrayed spouse takes a serious risk by letting go.

Truly repentant cheating spouses will make the time and do the work to affect real change in their lives and in their attitudes.  The effort resonates in the marriage and the betrayed spouse can reach out in the hope of being safe and secure in the love of their spouse.  A new foundation is poured and the new marriage takes shape.  The wounded hearts of the betrayed spouses are cared for and healed.

This has been my hope for almost 19 months.  But is my husband repentant?  It seems like it depends on the day and direction of the wind.  And that means that the answer is no.  I know he is sorry, but…

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May 7 Part II

My husband had been disappointed when I said I didn’t want a big party for May 7 this year.  It was the 35th anniversary of our first kiss, after all.  But he understood my feelings about it and we decided to go on a dinner picnic instead.  We both love picnics and the outdoors so we were both satisfied with that.  But I procrastinated in putting the plans together.  That’s not like me, but I just couldn’t seem to focus on it.  He got irritated that it wasn’t all planned out on May 6.  What was wrong with me?

I sat and thought about it for a while and I knew.  I was struggling with the idea of celebrating May 7 at all because I was uncertain of his feelings then and now.  Was I just the rebound girl?  He had doubts in college when he fooled around the first time.  Had he ever really loved me, or was I just a convenient girl to latch onto when he was heartbroken by her?  I told him about my insecurities over all this after dinner on May 6.

I told him that for me, at this point, it all comes down to his feelings.  I am unsure about his feelings then and now.  It doesn’t seem like May 7 is something to celebrate if he did not love me then.  He got mad.  He said that it was in the past and that I needed to let it stay in the past.  I told him that the past created the present and since the only concrete evidence I have of his feelings are his affairs, I needed to look at the past to figure out the present.  He never at any point negated anything I said.  He never said that he loved only me  and he never said that he loved me back then.  He just said none of it was important anymore.  What is important is what he wants now, and he wants to stay with me.

It didn’t feel resolved.  We decided against the picnic but he still wanted to do something so he invited my daughter and her family to join us for dinner at a bar and grill.  It was nice, actually.  He and I hardly had any interaction at all.  That was probably for the best.

We both calmed down during dinner and we had a great make-up session when we got home.  He said I was the love of his life.  He said he had been an idiot.  But the questions still eat at me.  His betrayal still eats at me.  I know he loves me, but maybe he doesn’t love me enough.  What is enough?  Sometimes I go around and around in my head with these doubts and insecurities.

Actually, I don’t think about it all the time anymore.  I have fun and enjoy many things.  But when there is a big trigger like May 7, I still cry.

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May 7

It’s here – May 7.  Today is the anniversary of our first kiss.  We used to celebrate it and do it up as big as our wedding anniversary.  I loved our story because it was not  just a little kiss a short time after meeting each other.  It was deep and meaningful and emotional.  We had known each other the whole school year and had become good friends.  We talked a lot and saw each other at parties and dances and at school.  Never alone together, but we often attended the same functions.

It didn’t take long before I knew I was head over heels in love with him.  But I was young – 17 – and had gone through some trauma in high school and was not ready to really date.  I was content just to be near him and it appeared he felt the same.  He never told me he had a girlfriend on the other side of the country.

Then his girlfriend dumped him and became engaged to someone else.  He was depressed for a while, but felt ready to move on towards the end of the school year.  We became closer friends than ever.  Then on May 7 he asked if I was going to the school dance.  We met and had a great time at the dance and then walked outside in the moonlight for a while.  By that time, we both knew we loved each other, but neither had made a move.  We reached his car and our eyes met as he opened the door for me.  He reached out for me and we melted in each other’s arms.  I didn’t come down from Cloud Nine for days.

We both knew somehow that we would end up together.  So we always celebrated May 7 as the day we became a couple.  But that girlfriend who dumped him became his affair partner years later.  It makes it seem like our entire relationship was a lie.  Did he ever really love me?  A part of me wants to say yes, but there is still a part of me that doubts.

My husband wanted to celebrate today with a big party.  He said he wanted to tell the world that he loves me.  I couldn’t.  I handle daily life pretty well now and no one sees that there is anything wrong with me anymore, but if we had a party where people would be congratulating us on  our long and happy marriage and all that… well, I just couldn’t.   So we decided to go on a dinner picnic instead, but then last night we got into a huge fight.  So now maybe there’s not even going to be a picnic.  I’ll tell you about the fight next time.

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Entranced

Marriage therapy books and courses almost always have an exercise at some point where they tell you to look back and remember how you met, how you fell in love, and what you loved about your spouse.  I have posted before about the day when we knew we were both in love with each other, but I have not yet posted about how we first saw each other.  May 7 is the day we first kissed and we have always celebrated it, and I need to reminisce a little as the day approaches.

When we first saw The Titanic years ago, my husband said that the scene where Jack first saw Rose reminded him of when he first saw me.  We were at college orientation.  I was standing on the second floor deck of a building, leaning against the railing.  My friends were making a ruckus about something or other, and I turned away from them to look out over the lawn.  I’ve always loved nature, and it was a beautiful day.  I soaked in the sunshine and took in the beautiful colors of the bright green grass and the deep green of the trees juxtaposed against a clear blue sky.  Daniel (my husband) was walking on the grass beneath me.  He said he looked up to see who was making all that noise (my friends) and he saw me standing there.  He said he stopped in his tracks to look at me.  His roommate later told me that when he got back to their apartment, he told everyone that he had just seen an angel, the most beautiful girl in the world.  She could be Miss Universe. (I guess he’s always been a little delusional when he was attracted to someone.)

On the first day of class, in the first class of the day, he walked into his class and saw me sitting there.  He froze for a moment, nervous and excited.  He didn’t know what to do, so he went and sat in the front row.  He didn’t focus very well on anything the professor said during the entire class, even though he was sitting right smack in front of him.

I was sitting with a friend when he walked into the room.  I looked up at him and was entranced.  So much so that my friend followed my gaze to the door where he was walking in.  “Oh, he’s cute,” she said.

“He sure is,” I whispered.

Almost like a fairy tale… I wouldn’t say it was love at first sight, but we were both drawn to each other and excited by each other from those first moments.  Even today, after all he has put me through, my heart still skips a beat when he enters a room.  I still tingle when he runs his fingers down my arm.  I still miss him terribly when he is away.

But I guess he doesn’t feel that way anymore.  Miss Mousey Face (his OW) proved that.

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A new season

Yesterday I posted about my wake up call and how I could not let my husband’s foolishness kill off DJ as she was prior to D-day.  I have been thinking on it, and find it a daunting task.  But I need to make a start… so I’m changing the look of my blog and I’ve made some changes in the organization of my home.  This will help me to think differently.  I’ll continue to make changes as I move along, but today I am just setting myself up for a change of perspective – a new season.  I’m still whirling around some and feeling out of control at times on this roller coaster, but now recognizing the turns and loops and handling them a little better.

Will there still be backwards steps?  Sure.  For the past week I have cried my eyes out all over again, triggered by my husband’s business trip, grieving about everything, and feeling like I had fallen way, way down again.  I probably drove my coach James batty with my wild fluctuations in moods and insecurities.  But I want to start rediscovering that sense of self that I had lost in my trauma.  I WILL move forward.

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Wake up call

I just found out that I am being honored for some work I did before this mess all started.  I feel humbled and honored at the same time.  It also feels like someone is shaking me and telling me to wake up.

My entire life came to a screeching halt on D-day.  I couldn’t go to work for three days, and when I did go in I moved around in a daze.  I have since been told I was in physical shock for several months.  I functioned but did not do anything I would consider exemplary… not like this work for which I am receiving honors.

There were many days when just getting through the day seemed like a monumental task.  But I slowly got back into life in some ways.  I became a part-time fitness instructor in addition to my job.  I became a grandmother a few months after D-day and I pick my granddaughter up from the sitter every day to spend a little time with her.  I continued my job and did it well.  I started this blog.  I settled into the new house we bought  just before D-day.  It’s not finished.  Some things are still just too difficult to focus on, but at least we’re settled in. Everything took longer than it did before and I struggled to maintain focus, but I got most things done.  All good things… all things I am happy about… but I did not and could not do anything that required the focused and dedicated effort that I put into my life before.

I just got by.  My brain was fried.  And then I found out that I had Fibromyalgia.  I feared that I was doomed to forever be a shell of who I used to be.

But this award has shaken me up.  What the hell am I doing?  Can I put myself back together?  I’m not Humpty Dumpty.  The stupidity and immaturity and delusional thinking that my husband showed cannot be the death of DJ as she was prior to D-day.

I know people who were never the same after their spouse had an affair.  My aunt, for one.  People always talked about how Auntie changed after her divorce.  She went kind of crazy and was rather unstable for the rest of her life.  I was too young when she divorced to remember the change, but that’s what everyone said.  Pitiful.

No, that’s not going to be me.  Absolutely not.