Does Therapy Work?

Clearly, if there is anyone who needs therapy, it's me. I freely admit to the fact that I have no idea what is going on in my brain these days, but I'm not sure that I believe that therapy works.

Right after I found out that my husband was having his affair, I insisted that we needed to go to therapy. DH was more than willing to go along with anything I wanted at that point, so despite the fact that he wanted nothing to do with it, he dutifully accompanied me to every appointment.

Maybe we got a mediocre therapist, or maybe the whole couples therapy thing was just crap, but for the few months that we went, I don't think it did any good. DH was a bundle of nerves for days before each meeting, because he was sure that he was going to be berated for his bad decisions, and I was annoyed beyond belief that the therapist kept telling me to try to see the infidelity through my husband's eyes.

I was too devastated at that point to see anything clearly. I was certainly in no position to try to see anything that could possibly justify my husband's betrayal.

We didn't talk about anything with the therapist that we weren't talking about at home anyway. We had had many tearful, serious conversations on our own. Her being there didn't make a huge difference. In some ways, it actually made things worse.

And talking was not the only way we handled our devastation. For some reason, as angry and hurt as I was, I was inexplicably, magnetically drawn to have sex with my husband. This was not tender, make up sex. This was angry, animalistic coupling. I wouldn't kiss my husband, I often wouldn't even look at him, but we had frequent, intense, (honestly fantastic, but that wasn't what it was about) sex.

I hated myself a bit for this. I may have still loved him, but I didn't like my husband at all at that point, and I certainly didn't want him to feel like he was being rewarded for sleeping around on me. But I couldn't stop myself.

Couples therapy didn't help me with that, either.

But now, I'm thinking about it again. It's been about a year. I feel like I should be better at this point, but I'm not. I'm still a mess. I'm still grieving for the loss of the life that I thought I was living, but which turned out to be a lie.

Don't get me wrong, DH and I have wonderful moments, great days, even good weeks. But still, I cry more days than not. I don't feel like I'm enough for him. Some days, I don't feel loved. For months, I haven't felt appreciated.

I want to be where I was before, and I realize that that's not possible. I want to feel special. I want to feel beautiful. I want to feel wanted.

So I'm considering therapy again. This time just for myself. I'm not sure if it will help, but at this point I don't know what else to do.

Any suggestions?