Every day I wait for the pain to go away.  I wonder if it ever will.  I haven’t even passed my year and my future looks bleak.

Even when I have good days, my mind is still bad.  I am foggy, slow, forgetful, fearful, worrisome, scared.  I have never been a person who was scared.  I have always been pretty confident, even if I lacked self esteem, I have always been out-spoken.  For myself, for my kids, for my family.

I hate who I am.  I really do.  I know, to an extent, that my husband is trying.  But, it never feels like enough.  He worshiped his whore.  Wrote blogs, and books, about her.  Left her love notes.  Told her how great and wonderful and perfect she was. His muse. What the fuck was I?  What the fuck am I?

I hate how we, as wives, fall into a role of only that.  I am his wife.  I am the one who cleans his clothes, writes his checks, rears his children, bares those scars, gains that baby weight, cleans his house, feeds the kids, drives the kids, waits at home, misses my life, hopes for the life I dreamed of, imagines the future, and then finds out the truth.  When do I get all the things I wanted?  He got the things he wanted.  He got the attention, the care, the sex, the life he wanted.  He just got all those things in 2 different places.  He didn’t give his attention to one, only to the other.  He didn’t value the sacrifice of one, only the slutty-ness of the other.  Where is my attention?  Where is my care?  Where is the person that will care for me when I am at my absolute lowest?  How am I supposed to be attractive to the one who didn’t want me when I was ok, when I am as far from ok as I will ever be?  Why the fuck to I care what he thinks?  Why?

Why do we care?  Why do we want to fix these relationships that they wanted no part of?  Why do we want the selfish, self-centered, egotistical, pathological liars, to care about us?  Why?  I really don’t understand.  I really don’t know why I want to stay.  It isn’t the first time he looked outside our marriage.  Why am I so disillusioned to believe it will be the last? I have changed for the worse, and I feel like he hasn’t changed at all.  What is different?

Our counselor says that I have to “live the marriage I want, even if it’s difficult.”  Right now, the marriage I want, is apparently to someone else.  I was living the marriage I wanted.  With a few hiccups that I felt would be resolved once the kids were older and out of the house, I thought I was moving forward with the marriage I wanted.  Things were not perfect, but you never hear that they should be.

I was the dutiful wife.  Make dinner.  Clean the house.  Rear the children. Clean the clothes.  Trust what he tells you.  Help with homework. Get the kids to school on time. Pick them up.  Make him happy.  Do all the things.  Do them alone.  Cry for help.  Be ignored.  Convince yourself that you are crazy. Question it all. Get no reply.  REPEAT.

I hate the cliche that I am. I understand suicide.  I would NEVER do it.  But, I understand the desperation of it.

The irony of this blog is that my husband LOVES to write.  He wrote all the time.  Even about HER.  His poor mother liked his blogs about HER without knowing what they were.  If she knew, it would break her heart.  But he won’t read mine.

There’s your devotion and change.

I hurt a deeper hurt than I have ever felt.

I want it to stop.  But it keeps on.  and on.  and on.

Please make it stop.  Someone tell me how to make it stop.  PLEASE.

Am I worth it?

I want to write more often than I do, but I feel like a whiner, with the same subject all the time.  This has consumed my life.  It sucks.  I just want to feel better.  Things feel like they are falling back into the same routine as before.  I don’t really feel like my husband ever really felt the weight of this. I think that he knows I don’t have any financial stability without him and that there is no way I would make it on my own.  I think he knows I have no choices or options.  When all of this stuff was coming out, I told him, “Don’t let me find out in any other way that you were sleeping with her.  If you were, you need to be the one to tell me.  If I find out any other way, we are over.”

And then like a complete dipshit dumbass, when I found out, from her blog, I still didn’t make him leave.  He holds all the power and all the control.  He always says, “It’s not about power and you keep making it out to be a power struggle.”  But, I don’t.  I just know that I care so much more than he does.  Than he probably ever will, maybe more than he ever has. He walks around constantly like everything is fine, like there is nothing happening, and we are all just going to move forward as though he didn’t shatter our entire foundation as a family.  He is detached. He is not the man I married.

He bought me flowers one day, and about 2 weeks later he bought me a plant. Nothing since.  We have been trying to have “date days” on the days we have our counseling.  I have asked him repeatedly to plan something for those days.  He tried once, maybe twice, but it didn’t work for one reason or another.  But all the other, many date days, are just let’s eat lunch here and then go home.

I just want for him to put the same effort into keeping me as he did into being with her.  He planned, he lied, he woke up early, he made an effort.  I am not worth the effort, apparently.  An extra hug here, a hand held there, or a snuggle at bedtime are supposed to be enough.  That’s all I should need or want.  He’s so much more concerned with what he wants, than trying to understand what I want.  And, that’s how it’s always been.  When we didn’t have sex, for YEARS, he would grab my ass or my boobs and that was supposed to be foreplay or some type of turn on.  He didn’t touch me otherwise, no hand holding, no hugs, nothing.  But all he wanted was to grab me, like a piece of meat, and that was good enough for him, so it should be good enough for me.

I told him repeatedly that I needed more than that.  That I needed more interest than just grab ass in order to feel close enough or a connection enough to be willing to have sex with him. He didn’t hear me.  Just like when I told him for years that I was unhappy, or when I told him I was lonely, or when I told him I needed more from him in the relationship, or as a parent.  “No, I’m fine, so you are, too.”  That’s always been his stance.

I just want, for once in all these years, to feel like I matter. Like what I want is something that someone else wants for me. My value is lost, my worth is lost.  I just feel like no one cares enough to put me first.  Not even me.  I put everyone else first.  Even my husband…. Because I am a dipshit dumbass with no self worth or value.

I’m so sick of feeling this way.  I don’t want this life.

WTF??

I am away.  And previously, that was the time that my husband would spend with his AP. (Still haven’t settled on a title for her)  When I went out of town for a funeral, a wedding, a holiday, and a visit or two to my parents house.  Honestly, the funeral is the worst for me.  I may have covered this in a previous blog, but I am not sure.  My uncle died.  It was incredibly unexpected and hit me hard.  I had another uncle die, then my grandpa died, then this uncle died.  Both uncles were unexpected, but the second was very much so.  I held guilt because I had not seen him when I had a chance to, close to his passing. He was stubborn and private and in a condition that he didn’t want people to know about.  He asked my Grandma not to tell me that he was in a physical rehab center, because of what brought him there.  I did not want to cause turbulence between my uncle and Grandma and therefore, I did not go visit him on the trip.  Not too long after, he passed away, in the rehab center he was in.  I was so devastated.  I still am.  I found a card recently that my parents sent me (which I need to clarify is my dad and step-mom because this was my birth mother’s brother) with condolences and happy thoughts of my uncle’s good life lived.  The memory of his death is muddied with the knowledge that my husband’s girlfriend saw it as so fortuitous.  My uncle died and she celebrated my time away so that she could see my husband.  My husband KNEW how shattered I was by the loss and still he went to her instead of spending his time worrying about my mental well being.  I had, and HAVE still, so much guilt about not seeing my uncle when I had the opportunity.  I am crying as I write this.  I didn’t go see him.  I should have.

And yet, this guilt and mourning are overtaken by the thought of my husband, who should care for me above all others, running off to his girlfriend’s place and making things right with her and reassuring her of his commitment to her. (apparently she was upset that he wasn’t spending enough time with her)

Then there was the wedding.  My cousin got married close to a holiday (which one will reveal far too much I am afraid) and my husband celebrated the holiday early with his AP.  Because they are so happy and comfortable with each other and can be so silly with one another and it’s a time he will never forget.  At least that is what he wrote to her about it after it happened.  Yeah, she posted his messages to her on her facebook page before she committed suicide.  And I find it so completely tragic that she didn’t find more worth in herself than her relationship with someone who was married. (this sounds sarcastic as I read it back and it is not, at all)  I wish she didn’t make the final decision she made.  But I also wish that the pictures, text messages, and other various writings were not still available for our children to happen upon one day.

And of course we cannot forget the holidays.  I went out of town to visit family on the major holidays and he went and visited his AP.  I don’t really know how often he was at her place or how much time he really spent with her, but I do know he had a key to her apartment and spent plenty of time with her when I thought he was at work or when I just plain didn’t know where he was.

So, I say all that to get the thoughts out of my head.  Wondering who he is talking to, what he is doing, what his plan is, what his goals are, what he really wants from our marriage, why does he care now when he clearly didn’t before.

Is this just the easy way out?  This way he doesn’t have to tell family and friends that we are divorcing because he cheated, twice, one time worse than the other.  This way he doesn’t have to explain to the kids that he loved someone else more than all of us.  This way he doesn’t have to face what he did unless I bring it up.  He has no real punishment in this.  The punishment is all mine to bear.  He doesn’t experience the fear, insecurity, doubt, pain, suffering, self loathing, self hate, questioning, etc, that I do.  He KNOWS he could find someone else.  He knows he is good enough, not only for me, but for another woman.  He has no unsteady footing when it comes to knowing that someone can and will love him.  I am unloveable.  Not only did my husband not love me, but he rejected me and chose someone else.

I don’t know where I am going with this blog and I don’t know what I am trying to get out tonight.  I know that I am away, for the first time since D-Day and I am experiencing feelings of panic and doubt and insecurity, and I hate every second of it.  I didn’t do anything to deserve this.  I don’t want this and I didn’t ask for this, but this is my new life. This is who I am now.  And I hate who I have become.  I am a little child looking for the approval and reassurance of someone who has more power and more control over me.  And I hate it. He cheated on me and I all but begged him to stay.  Why do I not value myself more?  Why can’t I stand up for myself more?

I have told my husband for years and years (double digits here) that I was unhappy and that I needed more from him. And his response was always that he was fine.  My feelings didn’t matter while I was crying out to him for help.  And then he says I wasn’t paying him enough attention and he needed it from someone else.  When do I get my attention? When do I get what I have been begging for all this time?  When do I get to feel like someone loves me with their whole soul, their whole being? So much that when I am sad or down they would do whatever it takes to help me?

I helped my husband cheat on me, without knowing of course.  He was working “long hours” and was so tired when he came home that he would fall asleep on the couch as soon as he finished dinner.  I told the kids he was stressed from work when he was cranky.  I explained away his long hours when my daughter asked me why she hadn’t seen daddy in 3 days.  I made him dinner, (which he refused regularly) for when he came home late after we all already ate. I made sure he had clean clothes and tried my best for a clean house.  I didn’t iron his clothes and for some insanely stupid reason, I have guilt over that, too.

Anyway, I am babbling and getting all off track on everything I am writing here.  I have no focus and I am full of fear and I am hating what my life has become.  I just want to find my true self again.  I think I was a pretty good person.  I miss me.  I wish someone else missed me as much as I miss myself.