Falling Back

FallBackDaylightSavings

Maybe it’s the change in clocks, but I feel as though I’m a bit “stuck” with inner dialog and anger. I’m falling back – doing what I did pre-affair.

Is it normal for recovering from infidelity? Probably. Is it fun? No, it’s not.

I had a bad day yesterday. It was Tuesday. I woke up at 4am and my mind started the replay. EB was off all last week and I was able to breathe. Yesterday, I felt the breath leave me. I hugged him when he left for work and just said, “I hate Tuesdays.” He gruffly said, “I know.”

I was in a funk all day because of it. I went into my office and brought home three boxes of crap, as we are cleaning out and preparing for the big office move. Even with all that going on, I was still preoccupied – distracted – disconnected.

Question to the BS’s out there…how long did it take for you to start having “back talk” in your mind and noticing those small things that annoy you about your spouse?

This has just started for me. I used to have it pre-affair. Twenty three years married of “little things” and grumbling under my breath at things he would do or say. I’m worried. I don’t like it.

After the affair, those little annoyances didn’t bother me. In some f’ed up way, they were endearing. I was just so happy to be together.

Now, I’m not so sure. Perhaps I’m finally out of the BS fog. You know, the honeymoon sex, the “he walks on water” and “isn’t he so hot?”  I’m not happy about it. The BS fog was nicer. It formed a bubble/cocoon that prevented the shit from becoming real.

But, what’s really bothering me is that I’m feeling a bit stuck for not knowing what he’s going to do about a new job. He keeps surfing next vacations, stupid sports scores, but not even a hint at looking for another job.

He’s smoking again, too — has been since the summer. He smoked last year and on 10/17, I threw out his pack of cigarettes, out the truck window. He quit cold turkey then. Weird how I remember all the specific dates of things that week. But, I’m sure we all do to some extent…

Guess who also smokes? Yup, Ms. Evil Bitch. Oh, but “they don’t usually smoke alone.” Another person “almost always joins them.”

I resent both of these things: no new job and smoking.

I think that’s part of my pent-up anger and it’s going to boil over soon.

I’m scared, guys. I’m scared that he won’t find another job and that will be it for us. I think I’ve swallowed enough pride and paid my dues from my past sins. At least, I think I have. He must still be punishing me. I just can’t imagine what his motive(s) are if he isn’t.

We are getting the remodeling done. Final things selected and it should be full remodel mode by early December. All I am thinking lately is…well, it will be good for resale because I don’t know if we’ll be here much longer.

Sigh

Didn’t think my heart could break anymore. I was wrong. It just keeps breaking a little each and every day.

I couldn’t have stopped it

Stop, in the name of love

Stop, in the name of love

So, the weekend before last, lying in bed before turning the light out I had one of those friggin’ Oprah “Uh-huh” moments. It hit me right in the face. They don’t happen often and especially since his affair, I can’t remember shit! (Advanced apologies…this will be filled with curse words).

Let me back up a bit.

That day was spent backing up my old phone in preparation of getting the new iPhone (yes, I’m back to an iPhone and it should behave a lot better than the S5).

I had gotten to the realization that the new phone would not be my “Dday” phone, but my Dday+1 year phone. Meaning, I wasn’t going to port over all my old messages to the new phone and still live in the past. Nope, wasn’t going to do it. So, I backed up (in multiple ways, just in case) the messages of denial and then admission and then love and recovery for the past 12 months. There were a lot between my husband and I! Definitely more than what he had texted with EB (Evil Bitch for you new comers).

So, after backing up, I took a stroll down memory lane and read the before Dday texts. I started to place more of my mental timeline together. Things were falling into the cracks and it was making more sense.

Fast forward to bedtime, and it hit me. There wasn’t anything I could have done to prevent him having the affair and fucking her! Yeah…I know, I know!!!! But, here me out.

Case in point, The night before he fucked her, we made love and he gave me a hickey (sorry, TMI, but what the hell…). Yeah, that hadn’t happened in a long time. I don’t recall it (the sex) being extra wonderful, but it was good enough for a hickey. Hell, he could have been imagining her for all I know!

I thought back on other dates and I really think he was so messed up that he was determined to fuck her. Their texting was in a frenzy leading up to that day and at this point, if I showed up naked at his office door, he would have pushed me aside and fucked her instead.

So, that night, lying in bed, I got real quiet. It was an epiphany. He asked what was up and I told him that I realized no matter what, he was going to cheat. I couldn’t have prevented it. I told him that we made love the night before. I was powerless and didn’t even know it.

What did he say? NOT A FUCKING THING. Crickets had more to say than this husband of mine.

In a weird way, it was rather freeing. For 12 months I blamed myself for part of the affair. For being “distant” at times, blah, blah, fucking blah….

Not anymore. His mind and his dick were made up. And it’s ALL on him and not me! Not that part of the relationship. I’ll own my dissatisfaction with the marriage back then, but not his affair.

Anyway, I thought I’d share that fact and see if any of you felt the same way?

The journal of why, pain, fear and hope

We have a journal of our “letters” and “questions” we started since Dday. The journal has a brown leather cover, which is embossed with encouraging mantras, like: Don’t look back, Be your best self, Dance the night away, Live life freely, etc. etc. I think it’s ironic.

I bought this journal with a few others the year before. This one was still blank and a day after Dday, I started writing questions in it, like: Female or male therapist? Want a break? How soon to start therapy? Do you want to continue with your job? Do you want me to stop asking questions (ha!)? Those questions I jotted down because I met him for lunch at a fast food place half way between home and his work. I was so nervous that day. I really thought we wouldn’t make it. He was so angry and I was so scared and skittish. It was one of those pivotal days. He want to work that day (OMG!) and I was left home in pieces. I needed answers. I remember the feelings I had simmering at the surface. I was a walking wounded soldier – the walking dead. I arrived 30 minutes early and was disappointed he wasn’t there. I sat and wrote down my jumbled questions so we could start somewhere. I never realized that this journal would serve as a conduit for us. Almost like a touchstone.

On days like today (quiet morning, J left super early to attend some training for the charity we belong to), I open that journal and read through the questions, the letter he wrote that explains his “why”, my subsequent letter of thank you, more of my questions, his timeline letter (filled with resentment), and then my letters of fear and hope. It’s a work in progress this journal. The evolution of reconciliation. The marriage reconnection. The start of communication.

I reread it all and relive it all. I have kept a digital calendar, too, which tracks not only my menstrual cycle, but also key dates that I’ve researched through phone/text records and pieced together his timeline of infidelity, our fights, our make ups, etc. It keeps it real for me. I can’t forget where we’ve been. I hope it helps us forge the path we are traveling…