Sleepless Night

Do you ever wake up in the middle of the night with the remnants of a dream teasing the edge of your mind?

I sit, wide awake when I should be sleeping, wondering why my brain insists on being alert. After several minutes of trying to return to slumber, I've given up. My husband is away on business, my kids are sleeping, and I am strangely restless.

I say strangely, because I am often alone and content. I am a person who can curl up with a book, an old sitcom, or almost any movie, and be completely satisfied for hours at a time. If that fails, I can blog-surf forever, letting one blog's sidebar lead me to another, indefinitely.

But none of that is working for me tonight - or rather this morning - so I decided to simply sit down and let the thoughts in my head ramble their way onto my blog. perhaps once they escape, I will finally be able to put my mind, and the rest of myself, to bed.



Things have been going well recently, but I did have one bad day last week where DH and I had an actual, verbal fight. We rarely raise our voices, but I was both crying and shouting. He had unintentionally said something earlier that day which was incredibly hurtful to me. He felt the fact that he had said it without thought as to how I would feel made it somehow less egregious. After all, he didn't intend to hurt my feelings.

I, on the other hand, thought that the thoughtlessness actually made the situation much worse. I am his wife. I think that he should be thinking about how his words and actions affect me. The fact that I didn't occur to him is not comforting in any way.

He sees my point, and I understand his... on an intellectual level, but neither of us is really conceding our position.

So, in my sleep deprived state, I have decided to ask any of you reading this if you have an opinion. And I am interested to see if this is one of those Mars / Venus situations where men and women see things differently.

Do you think that accidentally hurting your partner's feelings is excusable because intent is what matters, and there was no intention to hurt the other person?

Or, do you think that not considering your partners feelings is offensive, regardless of whether or not any damage was done? That the fact that you aren't thinking about your partner is a problem in and of itself?



I'm going to go to bed now - again - but I look forward to your opinions.

Reading My Mind

A couple weeks ago, I was chatting with another blogger who happens to be very involved in BDSM. She was telling me how she and her husband got started in their lifestyle and explaining what it means that she has agreed to be 'owned' by her husband. The mutual trust involved in this is really amazing. What began as a sexual fantasy for them now is a driving force in almost every aspect of their lives.

While I have no interest in having a steady diet of BDSM, I must admit that I enjoy the flavor of it liberally sprinkled into my sex life.

There is an amazing freedom involved in being tied up. The restraints prevent me from stopping an experience because it is new or different. I enjoy being put on display in a manor that does not allow me modesty. I love being a sexual object.

Being blindfolded is another of my favorite activities. I am not overly visual when it comes to arousal, so I lose very little by not being able to see. On the other hand, it is amazing how much sensation is gained. It is as if I develop new, extra nerve endings when I cannot see. Each kiss, each caress is amplified. Hot and cold take on new meaning. Anticipation and uncertainty add to the experience.

Finding the line where pleasure and pain intersect is also intense. Don't get me wrong, I have no interest in experiencing actual pain, but with the right amount of foreplay and arousal, it is amazing how incredible the slight burn of hot wax can feel. Careful flogging or a well placed smack with a leather strap can make the nerves in my skin so much more responsive. And better than any of those is the feel of my husband's hand reddening the skin on my ass.

But the common thread in all of those activities is what I actually draws me to them all. I love the dominance that my husband displays, and I love to submit to what he wants. There is no happier feeling than having his hand fisted in my hair, controlling me. No safer place to be than trapped beneath him with my arms pinned above my head.

But like every other aspect of my life, there is an amazing amount of trial and error built into these activities. Some days our forays into the world of Domination/submission are exhilarating, freeing and fulfilling, but other times, they frustrate me because I want something more or different than what is happening.

That frustration soon became the subject of my conversation with the other blogger. I was telling her that I am normally pretty good at verbalizing what I need sexually. I have very little difficulty asking for things to be faster, slower, harder, or at a different angle. It takes almost nothing away from my experience to request what I need in order to climax.

It is different though, when I am being submissive. Sometimes I want him to show more force. Sometimes I want a bit more pain. Often, I want my husband to talk to me like he owns me. If I ask, he is more than happy to oblige, but then I loose a lot of the pleasure that these things would normally give me.

My blogger friend tells me that what I was doing is 'topping from the bottom', meaning that since I was telling my DH what to do, I was actually being the dominant partner ... which is not what I was looking for in these sessions at all.

What I want, apparently, is for DH to read my mind. Unfortunately, this has to be a difficult task, because I change my mind on a fairly regular basis.

And it isn't only during sex that I feel that way.

Do you remember the movie, The Break-Up? During a scene when they are fighting, they have the following conversation. (I haven't looked it up, so I'm sorry if it isn't exact.)

Vince Vaughn: Fine, I'll do the dishes.
Jennifer Aniston: I don't want you to do the dishes, I want you to want to do the dishes.
Vince Vaughn: Why on earth would I want to do the dishes?!

I could be Jennifer Aniston's character. I don't just want my needs met, I want DH to read my mind and no what those needs are without me telling him ... even when my needs may be bewildering to him.

I know this isn't fair. I understand that I can't really expect my husband to read my mind. I realize that this is just an exercise in frustration for both of us. But still, I can't help but wish.

Because even if it isn't fair, it's just not satisfying to be topping from the bottom.

A Moment in Time

Things have been going pretty well these last couple of weeks. DH and I are coexisting well, even if we are not exactly connecting on an existential level. But there are more ways to connect than one, and as anyone who has read my blog for any amount of time knows, my answer to almost any marital issue is sex.

Being male, DH isn't opposed to this method - especially when I take matters into my own hands. He minds even less when I take him into my mouth.

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A couple of days ago, DH and I spent several hours doing yard work. We trimmed, pruned, weeded, planted and mulched until we were both streaked with dirt and covered in sweat. We had dinner plans with friends set for that evening, so when we were finished, I sent DH in to shower first while I put away the tools and straightened up the patio. A few minutes later, I went in to clean up, myself.

I was in our walk-in closet, picking the clothes I would wear after my shower, when DH finished his. He walked up to his dresser to get a pair of boxers, and the scent of his soap instantly filled the small space. Despite having quickly wiped off with the towel that was now wrapped around his waist, his skin was still damp and slightly glistening. As I watched him retrieve his clothing from a drawer, a drip of water escaped from his hair and started running down the indentation of his spine until it disappeared into the towel.

I stared transfixed for a short second, but as another drip started to form, I new I had to catch it. Without giving DH any warning, I came up behind him and pulled away the towel. Holding his hips to keep him from turning, my tongue found the base of his spine and I began to lick my way up his back, catching the errant drips and savoring the flavor of freshly clean husband.

As I reached his upper back, I stretched onto my tiptoes pulled him back slightly against me so that I could kiss his neck. After only a moment, DH shivered from the chills I was giving him and turned around to take me into his arm. He kissed me lightly, then looked down at me and chuckled. "Ugh, you're still filthy. Now, I'm going to have to rinse off again."

I pulled back slightly, so that I could look into his eyes, raised one eyebrow at him and said, "Sorry," in a tone that was anything but.

He rolled his eyes at me, kissed the tip of my nose, and started to pull away to grab his clothes. I didn't even realize I was going to do it, but as soon as he let me go, I dropped to my knees. Before he had time to turn away, I took him into my mouth.

He actually stumbled slightly, the surprise of my actions momentarily stealing his balance. He steadied himself quickly with a hand on my head, and as my lips found their way to the very base of his soft cock, his fingers curled slightly to grip my hair.

We moaned almost in unison. He from the feeling of my tongue swirling on his most sensitive skin. Me from the sensation of dominance exuded by his action.

Almost too quickly, his cock began to swell, thickening and lengthening to the point that it was impossible for me to keep him completely in my mouth, and lightly triggering my gag reflex when I would try.

The clean taste of his skin was almost irresistible, and I found myself devouring him voraciously. I couldn't seem to get enough of him in my mouth. Lips, tongue and teeth were all working in unison to elicit more of those low moans.

In a matter of minutes, I could hear the change in DH's breathing. The muscles in his legs were tensing almost rhythmically, and the gentle hand in my hair was becoming a tight fist. I quickened my tempo, using my entire body to bob against his cock.

Moments later, I could feel the telltale twitching of cock against the roof of my mouth. A louder grunt escaped from DH's lips, and his warm fluid started shooting into my mouth. There, on the floor of my closet, I knelt. Swallowing everything he had to give me, and then using my lips to milk every last drop from his cock.

When I was sure he had nothing left to give me, I rose to my feet, gently raking my nails up his legs, across his abdomen and up to his chest. I kissed him slowly, sharing the taste of his orgasm as our tongues danced together.

Then, without warning I turned and walked away to take my shower. Throughout our evening with friends, my smug smile never left my lips. And every time I caught DH's eye, his expression reflected mine.

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No, things aren't perfect, and one blow job is not capable of fixing a year's worth of problems, but I'm learning not to spoil good moments by worrying constantly about the overall picture. And that was a good moment.

Who knows, maybe my 'fix it with sex' theory has some validity after all. Maybe.

Background Information and Questions Answered

When I originally started this blog, in my head I imagined that I would at some point go back to the beginning and write about my husband's affair in chronological order. But as it turns out, I want to write what I want to write when I want to write it. The downside is that I sometimes forget that all of you aren't living in my head, and sometimes won't have any idea what I am talking about.

I also tend to write about things as they are in crisis in my mind, and when they resolve themselves, I no longer feel an immediate need to write about them. The downside to that is I don't seem to tell about how different things turn out.

When either of these things happen, please feel free to ask me about it. I'm not offended by questions, and if I don't want to share something, I won't. But more often, the act of answering your question helps me figure out my own thoughts. When I try to take a jumble of knotted emotions and make them into an intelligible response, I actually have to sort out my feelings. Since that was one of the purposes of this blog, by asking questions you are actually helping me out.

A perfect example is this comment from Suburban Hotwife:

WOW, your experience and reaction after finding out about the affair was so physical, raw, and all consuming. I have never felt anything like that, so your story fascinates me. I tend to break down and cry, scream, pound a pillow, or throw (soft) things when I am upset. I bet it felt good to tell Kathleen about the dreams, just to get them off your chest. Is your husband a deep sleeper? Did he ever notice you thrashing about in your sleep, hear you run to the bathroom, or hear the shower in the middle of the night?

Sorry for so many questions, but this post makes me wonder, how did you find out about the affair and TOW? Did you know her? Your vivid vision of her made me wonder if she was an acquaintance? Maybe you have posted this info in other entries...I should go back and look, but I thought I had read you from the start.

Well, now you have opened up about the dreams to Kathleen AND your blog followers... how do you feel?

I'm going to start in the middle of this comment with a brief synopses of how I found out about the affair and some of the immediate aftermath, and then work my way to the other questions.

Last February, DH and I had had several months of what I thought was a lull in our marriage. Things were not going well, but I had no idea why. I thought DH was going through a mild depression, and I actually asked him on more than one occasion if he would go to the doctor to have his blood work checked. There is a strong history of diabetes in his family and I was concerned that the noticeable change in his mood and personality might have to do with abnormal blood sugars. An affair never even occurred to me.

February 18th, I needed some information that I new an acquaintance from church had sent to my husband. DH was in a very important meeting that day, and I didn't want to bother him, so I decided to get the info myself. I have always known DH's email passwords, so I went in his personal email to look for it. I didn't see what I needed there, so I accessed his work email to see if they had sent it there.

While I was scanning emails, looking for the info I needed, I found an email from an hotmail address I didn't recognize. The entire email message was "Password:*********". I don't know why I gave it a second look, maybe it was intuition, but I new something was up with that message. The password written down was a password that DH and I frequently used when we needed to sign up for something online, only the words had been reversed.

DH always sent himself emails with various user IDs and passwords, because he wasn't great about remembering what password went with which account. But I had no idea what this email was. It didn't seem to make sense.

Without even thinking about it, I went to hotmail. I logged in with the email address that had sent the message to DH's work email and used that password. Instantly, I entered a space that changed my world.

In this email box, I found access to a multitude of other accounts. Ashley Madison. MySpace. A blog. And then there were the emails. Months worth of emails starting as flirting, moving on to meeting, talking about fantasies, reliving their times together. Pictures. And I know it seems petty, but the most hurtful things were the emails where they would talk about how funny it was that neither of their spouses suspected a thing. How clueless I was.

I honestly don't know how I got through that morning. I was a combination of stunned and disbelieving. My daughter was at school, but my son was home. I remember that at some point I actually screamed, because my son came into the room to see what was wrong with mommy.

After about an half an hour of just breaking down, my mind snapped back into place and I started to print. I printed out every single solitary email. Every saved chat. Every blog post, complete with their comments. I printed his myspace page and all his comments and messages. I did the same with his Ashley Madison account. Some of the pictures on those pages didn't want to print, so I would print screen shots. Then when I finished with everything I could find from there, I went to our cellphone company website and printed months worth of call histories and texts.

I went on his blog, and thankfully, he had installed an analytics program. It took me no time at all to figure out the IP address of TOW's home and work computers. I googled her. I looked her up in the white pages. I found her on Classmates.com.

I found her husband's name, work and call phone numbers.

Honestly, it is very scary how with little computer knowledge, you can amass an incredible amount of information in a very short time.

I spent hours crying and printing. Then I ran out of things I could think to look for. I didn't know what to do.

I called a good friend, told her I needed her to watch my son and pick my daughter up from school. When she asked me why, I told her that I though DH was getting ready to divorce me. I didn't elaborate, but I honestly believed that he was going to leave me for TOW.

The state I live in is one of very few in the country where it is almost impossible to get a no-fault divorce. You have to prove to a judge that there is a reason for the divorce, and custody is largely decided by who is found to be at fault.

I know that in my last post, I just wrote how horrible it would be for my children not to see their father all the time. That is something I feel now. Back on Feb 16, 2008, all I could think of was how I was going to ensure that TOW would not become my children's new mother.

Then... about 5 1/2 hours after I had first opened the email, I called my husband at work. He couldn't come to the phone. I waited about 5 minutes for him to call me back, then I couldn't wait any more.

I did what any insane person wold do. I called TOW.

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This was a long drawn out way for me to explain the fact that although I've never met TOW, I do know what her voice sounds like. I also know what she looks like. I have pictures that she sent to DH in email. I have pictures from her myspace page. I have pictures from her work website. Yes, it sounds scary and stalkerish when I hear myself talk about how much information I have about her. But I have never seen her in real life.



The rest of the questions are much easier to answer.

Clearly, DH knew that I was having trouble eating and sleeping for a couple of weeks after everything went down. I lost about 10 pounds in 2 weeks, and I don't need to lose weight. I am sure that he woke up to me thrashing, vomiting, crying, screaming multiple times. But I am also sure that he never knew about the dreams or the orgasms.

At that point in our relationship, DH knew he was walking a tightrope, and he treated me like I was a grenade with a loose pin. At any moment, I might explode. He didn't push me to say anything or explain any of my feelings.



As far as the question of how I feel after letting you all in on my intimate secrets, well that is a process, but a good one. I have always been a sporadic journaler. When something bothers me, I tend to write in a notebook. Writing helps me clarify my own thoughts, but it also stirs up a lot of my emotions and dredges up a lot of feelings that I don't what to do with.

Talking to Kathleen is also a lot like that. She tends to steer or conversations into areas I wasn't facing, and a lot of emotions are stirred up. But posting on the blog is a little different. For some reason, posting these thoughts and knowing that other people are reading them helps me settle those emotions.

Immediately after I write a post, I tend to be a bit agitated. When I publish the post, I have several hours of nervousness. Almost an anxiety that this is going to be the post that proves that I really am abnormal. That this is going to be the time where who I am is rejected by the world at large. I don't look at my email or any comments while I'm in this phase.

But then, almost magically, a few hours later, I start to feel a weight lifting from my shoulders. The burden of keeping my secrets is slowly being shouldered by others, and it is a relief. I find myself handling the emotions better and resolving some of my issues.

By the time I read my comments and emails, it doesn't actually matter what they say. The simple act of knowing that I don't have to religiously guard that one heavy secret has already made me feel better. Even the emails where people are telling me that I am crazy don't bother me.

And then, there is another sort of catharsis. I have received comments and emails from more people than I realized where reading this blog, telling me that I am saying things that they have been feeling. That they are struggling with the same emotions I have been struggling with. They have had the same dreams. They have the same anxieties.

In reality, everyone has their own issues, but it is nice to know that I'm not alone.

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Rereading this blog, I feel like it jumps around a lot, and I'm sorry if it's confusing, but I'm not going to edit it today. Today, this is a good representation of the jumble in my head.

And by the way, this weekend I will send out invitation for when my blog goes private. If you replied to me in a comment that you want to be included, please make sure that your email address is easy to find either on your profile or your blog. I can't invite you if I don't have an email address to send it to.

Replying to Comments

In the couple of months that I've been blogging, I've been amazed and touched by the people who have taken the time to email me or leave me comments. I never really thought that anyone would be interested in reading this blog, let alone taking the time to comment, but I have to tell you, I really love getting the comments.

I have tried to acknowledge or answer as many of the comments as I can, and I often end up leaving comments that are as long as the blog post to do so. But after my last post, I got a couple of comments that need a bit more than a passing comment from me, so I thought I would put them into a post.

First, I recieved this comment from an anonymous reader. I wanted to reply to it here, because I have gotten multiple comments and emails that ask this same question, and I think it deserves a thoughtful answer. Here's the comment:

Don't take this the wrong way, but why would you let someone else effect you that much? Face it, you married a cheater. I've seen statistics that almost half of married men are cheaters. You don't see half of all married women losing it the way you have. If I were you, I'd divorce him and move on. Why are you staying with someone who makes you feel like shit?

My answers to this are probably going to seem cold, but I'm trying to keep this real.

Have you ever noticed that when someone starts a statement with "no offense", "don't take this the wrong way", or "don't take this personally" whatever follows the "but" is going to be offensive, pointed, and personal? But that's okay, I understand the frustration with my dwelling on the past. I'm frustrated too.

But when you talk about the fact that you don't think other people react the way I have to being cheated on, my question for you is how do you know? I can tell you that if you lived next door to me, or worked with me, or even if you were a member of my family, you would not think that I was feeling the way I have been. I have been very, very effective at hiding this in my real life, and even people who are very close to me have no idea that this is all going on in my life. People know that I've been a little down, a little blue, but all in all, I am a very functional, appearantly normal in my real life. You never can tell what is going on in someone else's life. Also, I really am only showing one aspect of my life in this blog.

The divorce question comes up a lot, so I want to address it. Here's the thing - I am not positive that my marriage is going to survive, but I want it to, and I am trying hard to give it a fighting chance The way this comment said I should divorce my husband and move on actually made me laugh a little. I don't know that divorce is ever that simple, but in my case, I know without a doubt that it would not be.

To start, just from a practical, economical standpoint, it would be very difficult for us to be divorced. Financially, if we were not working together, we could not afford the lifestyle that we are trying to give our children. I know that that is not the reason that people should stay married, but let's be honest, it's a very important consideration.

Next, there is no divorcing and just moving on. Even if we were no longer married, we have two children, therefore we will always have to be a part of each other's lives. We are going to have to find a way to resolve our issues and work together whether or not we're married.

Plus, we are both very hands on as parents. I am relatively sure that if we divorced, I would probsbly retain primary physical custody of the kids. That would mean that my kids would probably be with their father every other weekend and one day a week. I don't know what about that makes me more sad, the fact that my children would only see their father 8 days a month, or the fact that I would miss 8 days of my children's lives every single month.

Most importantly, I don't want to get divorced. I love my husband and despite everything, I honestly do believe that he loves me too. I don't know for sure that that love is going to be enough, but I do know that if it's not, there is going to be a gaping whole in my heart. He has been a major part of my entire adult life. I met him when I was in college. I honestly have no idea what it wouldbe like not to have him in my life.

Lastly, I want to address the part about DH making me feel like shit. I readily admit that in the last 14 months, I have frequently felt like shit. And I am in no way giving my husband a free pass here, but it's not all his fault. One of the few things that I know for sure is that his actions can certainly be a catalyst for my negative feelings about myself, but he couldn't make me feel like shit if I didn't have issues with my own self worth to begin with.

I am learning that for the last decade I have put a lot of effort into being a mom and a wife and not a lot of effort into being me for me. I think this happens to a lot of women after they have kids, and it sneaks up on you when you least expect it. I'm putting myself back together though, and one way or another, I'm going to be okay.

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This post actually took longer than I thought it was going to, so I will answer Suburban Hotwife's questions in my next post. She asked a lot of questions, and it actually did me a lot of good to come up with the answers.

My Mind Is Often My Worst Enemy

I have always been a very sexual person. I have always been up for almost anything my husband had in mind, and my sexual preferences tend to be a little outside of what I was taught was acceptable in the catechism classes taught by nuns. I have never been ashamed of my sexuality, and I am fairly open in real life, but there are a few things that make me feel like there is something wrong with me. Honestly, I sometimes wonder if I am a freak.

No, I am not talking about anything salacious or illegal. I am talking about my response to DH's affair.

I have written before that I try to fix things with sex. When I am insecure in my relationship, I do my best to seduce my husband. When DH seems depressed, I tend to jump him. These may not be the healthiest coping mechanisms, but they don't really bother me.

More concerning to me, was the fact that when I found out about my husband's affair, I just could not get enough rough, mean, angry sex. I couldn't look my husband in the eye, and often there would be tears rolling down my face the entire time, but the orgasms were incredible. I hated myself for this, because I didn't want to be rewarding my husband for his affair, but I couldn't stop myself. Still, this isn't what bothered me most after my husband's affair.

The worst part, was about a week after I found everything out, I started having dreams. Very vivid dreams. Vivid dreams about my husband and TOW. And I would wake up incredibly aroused. And sick to my stomach.

The first dream I remember, was a vision of my husband and TOW in my bed. I could see them, as if I were in the room. He was on top of her, rocking them gently in a tender missionary coupling. I could see him stroking her hair, and bending to kiss the tip of her nose. I watched as their rhythm quickened and his back arched with his release. In that moment, TOW turned her head, looked at me, and smiled victoriously.

I woke suddenly, drenched in sweat, adrenaline coursing through my veins. My hand was between my thighs, sticky with wetness. I throbbed with excitement, and was on the verge of orgasm myself. I jumped out of bed and barely made it to the toilet before I vomited the entire contents of my stomach.

It was the middle of the night, but I had to shower before climbed back into bed and stared at the ceiling until the sun finally rose. I felt violated and dirty.

The dreams came every few days. There was no rhyme or reason to their appearance. I would find myself a voyeur to all sorts of imagined sexual acts. About a week after the first dream, the stakes seemed to increase.

I could see my husband kissing TOW. His mouth traveled along her jaw, down her neck and to her breasts. I could see him taking her nipple between his teeth, nipping and teasing, while all the while his hand was working to bring her to orgasm. The picture in my head was erotic, and I woke up shaking as my own hand brought me to a simultaneous climax. But once again, the last vision in my mind before I lost site of that dream was of her vindictive smile. For the third time that week, I lost my supper as my body tried to forcefully purge that picture from my mind.

For nearly a month, I struggled with these dreams. Sometimes I would climax before I woke up. Sometimes I would wake up sick to my stomach and stop. And occasionally, I would wake up still aroused, yet unfulfilled by the dream. I would lay next to the sleeping form of my husband, and I would bring myself to orgasm, as tears streamed from my eyes.

The entire time I was having these dreams, and for a long time afterwards, I struggled to figure out what they meant. Was I secretly turned on by the thought of my husband cheating on me? No, certainly not while I was awake. Just thinking about it could make me physically ill.

Was I turned on by TOW? I have always thought that women were beautiful, and I experimented a bit in college. I've never ruled out the possibility that someday something could happen between me and another woman. For years, I had considered the possibility that DH and could at some point have a threesome. It seems to be every man's fantasy and back when I felt secure in my marriage, if we found the right partner, I wouldn't have been opposed.

But no, that was not the reason for my dreams. Almost every dream ended with her smiling at me in a knowing, victorious way. In my dreams she was rubbing in my face the fact that she had stolen both my husband's body and his heart. The only thing my conscious mind wanted to do with her was rip her face to shreds with my bare hands.

I never figured out what those dreams were trying to tell me, and I eternally grateful when they finally disappeared. I never told anyone about the dreams. Not my husband. Not my first therapist. Not my best friend. But this week, I told Kathleen.

She sat and she listened passively as I searched her eyes for any sign of repulsion, disgust, or condemnation. When finally, I had run out of words, and could no longer meet her eye, she looked at me and said, "You really need to give yourself a break."

I don't know what I expected to hear, but it certainly wasn't that.

When I met her eyes again, she went on. I'm paraphrasing,but what she said was basically, "Sometimes our minds can't deal with things, so our body tries to find a way to handle them. Sometimes our bodies can't deal with things, so our mind tries to find a way to handle them. Sometimes things are too much for our mind and our body to take together, and we try anything we can come up with a way to survive. It may not seem to make sense. It may be completely out of character for us. But in the end, it is just a way for us to deal with something that is beyond our scope to deal with."

She went on to tell me that most people respond viscerally after an affair, and because of that, unless there is some kind of abuse going on, she advises her clients not to make any permanent decisions about the future for 2-3 months after finding out about the affair.

She says that many women respond to an affair by leaving with their children, and then, a couple months later wish they hadn't. She said that a fair portion of women actually attempt to get pregnant after they find out their spouse has been unfaithful. Another common response is to become either completely celibate or abnormally promiscuous. She said that none of these responses are necessarily conscious decisions, and people need to cut themselves some slack.

I have to say, I felt better after talking to her. This was one of the secrets that weighed most heavily on my mind, and saying it out loud has made it easier to breathe.

I'm Still Here

It's been a couple of weeks since I posted, because I can't seem to keep my emotions going in one direction long enough to write things down. One day I'm optimistic, the next I am sure it will never work. Back and forth, riding my emotional roller coaster, hoping that I have enough momentum to make it through the next loop.

Today I received an email from someone who had been reading my blog, and I knew I needed to write again. Here is a short excerpt from a page long email:

Your blog shows that you are not functioning well in your life. The fact that you are questioning whether or not you are bipolar shows that while you obviously don't know very much about psychiatry, you do know you need help. You talk about your children, and you should think about what's best for them.

At the very least, you should consider medication, but more likely, you need a combination of inpatient and outpatient treatment to get your issues under control before you do something you regret.

Well... I'm not sure what to say to that except ...Thank you for your concern?

I'm not sure what exactly I wrote which elicited this sort of concern, but in reality, I am a very functional person. I get out of bed every day, shower, get dressed, get my family fed and on their way to their various activities. Three days a week, I work outside the home, everyday of the week, I take care of my family. I compartmentalize myself enough that even if I am very worried and depressed about my marriage, I can still function in the rest of my life. I may cry a lot, but I also laugh everyday. People can argue about whether or not that's a healthy way to live, but for me, right now, it's the only way.

I also got a much nicer comment from Suburban Hotwife:

Checking in on you... it's been nearly 2 weeks since you posted and I hope you are OK.

Yes, I am okay. Thank you. I actually do appreciate your concern. I've just needed time to sort out my thoughts a bit.

****

Yesterday, I met with Kathleen, my therapist again. I really do like her very much. She only lets me ramble for a little bit before she redirects me to actually think about what I am saying or feeling. Yesterday, when she did this, I had one of those "Aha!" moments were the light bulb goes off above your head.

I was rambling about some of the guilt that I feel about not being enough for my husband and him then looking to fill that void outside our marriage.

Kathleen: Let me stop you for a moment. I want you to quantify as a percentage, how much of the fault for your husband's affair rests on your shoulders. I'm not talking about any of the other issues in your marriage, just the affair. What percent of the affair is your fault?

Me: (thinking for a moment) 35%

Kathleen: Why do you say that?

Me: Well, I knew there were issues with my job, and I didn't communicate with him very well-

Kathleen interrupts me: Wait, we aren't talking about whose fault the communication issues are, just the affair. Taking out the communication problems, what percentage of the affair was your fault?

Me (thinking again): 25%?

Kathleen: Why?

Me: I know that the kids are busier than ever, and pull us in opposite directions. I didn't make sure -

Kathleen: We aren't talking about parental stress here either. Just the affair. I don't want you to give me a percentage about any other problem or stress in the marriage. Just the affair. His affair. How much of his affair is your fault?

Me (stammering because I don't know what she wants to hear): Well, um, I guess...

Kathleen: Don't make excuses for the affair, or give me reasons why it was okay. Right now I don't want you to make any judgement about the affair except what percentage of it is your fault.

Me (completely at a loss for words): I don't understand.

Kathleen: Yes, you do. How much of the actual affair is your fault?

Me: Ummm....

Kathleen: Did you find TOW online? Did you start emailing her? Did you meet with her? Did you sleep with her?

Me (pouting, but I don't know why): No

Kathleen: Okay, then how much of the affair was your fault?

Me (almost whispering): None.

Kathleen: Why can't you look at me when you say that? How much of the affair was your fault?

Me (starting to cry): None.

Kathleen: Why does it upset you that the affair isn't your fault?

Me: I don't know.

Kathleen: There is plenty of blame to go around in your marriage for many of the other issues, but the affair was a choice. It was your husband's choice. That is not your fault. The affair is not your fault.

Me (crying): But...

Kathleen: Why do you want it to be your fault?

Me: Because it's easier to be mad at myself than him.

Kathleen: Why? Why don't you want to be mad at him?

Me: Because I don't want to get a divorce. I don't want my marriage to end.

Kathleen: If you believe that the affair is all his fault, does it mean your marriage is over?

Me: I don't know.

Kathleen: You just said that you don't want your marriage to be over, don't you think that's more important than the fact that the affair isn't your fault?

Me (stammering again): Maybe.

Kathleen: Do you realize that you can be angry with your husband and still love him? You can be pissed off and still stay married, and if you're honest with yourself, and you both put the work into it, your marriage can come out of this stronger. The affair will always be there. Nothing is going to make it go away, but just like having the affair was his choice, how you deal with it is yours. But no matter what you decide, the affair was not your fault.

****

Hmmm, it's given me a lot to think about.