How do I describe the feelings I had when I found out my husband was having an affair? I don’t know that there are words that can or do accurately describe them. I found out in waves. First I saw text messages, and I was told it was just a textual relationship. A week later, I found some files on his computer that showed a deeper relationship. A week after that, the flood gates opened and I found, basically, an itinerary of their entire relationship.
The night that I found the text messages, it was bad enough. I ended up on the bathroom floor, crying and eventually throwing up. The following week, when I confronted him, we argued and yelled, and I was crazy. The day I found out the full truth, I ended up at a neighbors house, in her bathroom, throwing up all of my insides. Later that night, I experienced my first panic attack. It wouldn’t be the last.
He lied. To me. To her. To himself.
What do I do now? How do I make it to tomorrow? Is there a tomorrow? How do I get out of bed in the morning, make my kids breakfast and lunch, drive them to school, pick them back up, help them with homework, make them dinner, get them showers, and get them in bed? How do I do anything when I don’t even know how to breathe any more? How am I supposed to do all those things with a smile on my face, showing my children that things are ok, that things will be fine?
Every day my mind thinks of new things that I hadn’t thought of before. This holiday, he had a girlfriend. This time we spent together, he had a girlfriend. Holidays, places, words, things, all ruined because they invite thoughts of her with him.
So, where do I go from here? Do I kick him out? Let him stay? Uproot my entire life, kids and all? Forget the last 20 years of my life, spent with him? I don’t see a path set before me. There is no light at the end of the tunnel. Everything is right in front of my face, suffocating, impeding progress, keeping me in my dungeon of fear.
What is my next step?