How does somebody fool themselves? I guess we all do it to some extent...convincing ourselves that the last daring haircut we got wasn't that bad. Or convincing ourselves that we were justified in snapping at our spouse because, darn it, we'd asked them five times to pick up their clothes!
But how exactly does someone ignore reality and twist it to suit their purposes?
Those of you who know me know that I'm going somewhere with this. I just get caught up in establishing the background so I don't lose anyone. I do that in conversation too, which leads to misunderstandings and/or glazed eyes. It's a fault. But at least I haven't fooled myself into thinking it's not...
But I digress. My husband called me this morning. It was just the baby and me, as our son is at all-day YMCA camp, and our other daughter is spending her week in bliss, having her Baba and Papa all to herself.
He called about 8:20 and left a message asking me to call him back. I'd been lying in bed with a pillow over my head, trying to convince a migraine through sheer will that it did not want to set up residence. I'd been keeping audial tabs on my daughter, springing up from time to time when she got silent, as her silence results in emptied bottles of shampoo, overflowing toilets, or Crisco smeared all over her room (don't ask.)
When I called him back, he said,"She emailed me." Of course, we both knew who "she" is. "She*" is my former friend, his former fling, the wench who, along with my husband, threw my entire heart and life for (hopefully) the biggest loop I could imagine.
"She" emailed him because "She" "needs answers." "She" feels that "she" deserves answers. "She" feels that "she" is a victim. "She" feels that he owes her answers.
I should back up and explain. When my husband first told me she'd written him, I initially thought I'd email her a vicious response telling her exactly what she deserved. After all, this is the woman who promised me that she'd never contact my husband again. Obviously I couldn't request that of her as a friend, as she'd never been a true friend. So I requested that of her as a woman who'd been wronged by her husband before. I truly thought that she would be able to think back to the pain caused by her husband's affair and rely on that in order to fulfill her promise to me not to contact my husband.
Obviously this is a woman incapable of thinking of anyone but herself. I should have known that, obviously, but I honestly thought that having been hurt by an affair in the past, she would be capable of stepping outside of her own twisted, selfish needs.
Obviously not. I am a fool.
She claims that she is a victim. That she deserves answers. That my husband took advantage of her. Essentially, that it is all his fault.
I intended not to read it. I was going to just forward it to a friend for safekeeping, as I couldn't let it sit in my Inbox and pollute my environment. But as I started to forward it, I started to read it. My hands started to shake, and my heart started to race. The nerve of that selfish, twisted, insensitive, lying *itch!!! Then I found myself responding.
The point of responding? Nothing, really. My email is set up to permanently delete any message from her without me ever seeing it, because I am weak. I tend to open her rubbish and let it throw me into a tail spin. And I can't take many more tailspins. I've already had my anti-depressant increased once...any more and I'll likely become an oblivious, drooling nincompoop. (although that doesn't sound too shabby on some days lately). But I was so angry by the nerve she must have to have painted herself as an honest, giving, caring woman who was taken advantage of that it was either vomiting or responding. Those were my two choices.
So I responded. I told her that she is pathetic and beyond redemption. I told her that she gave me quite the laugh in portraying herself as, and I quote, "a woman who lives her life by honesty and the Golden Rule." [Note to self: Golden Rule has obviously changed to include having affairs with friends' husbands as a guiding principle for our lives. I'd better get on that one, no pun intended.]
I told her to stop wasting her oxygen and energy in portraying herself to anyone as a noble victim, although if she wanted to break her arm patting herself on the back, she could be my guest. I told her that this was my final communication to her and that she is not to contact any member of my family from now on. That I will take any and all precautions necessary to ensure that she will not be in contact with my family members or myself.
This is truly a twisted, confused, pathetic wretch. But I take satisfaction in knowing that if answers from my husband are what she seeks, she'll never get them. He'll not contact her. That is the premise on which our precarious marriage now wobbles. I hope that in time, our marriage will have a basis of true, honest, open love and faith, but that will take time. Right now, nothing is certain, and that is frightening.
I know he's trying. I know he's changing. I know he hates the man he was, as do I. I just don't know how you move beyond this pain to the newer relationship. I guess it takes time...everyone tells me that.
But of course, hearing from this psychopatic *itch doesn't help.
There is a friend's wedding coming up. All of us were invited. My husband and I will not be attending, as we did not wish to overshadow the bride and groom's wonderful day with the drama in which we are involved. But the dark, revenge-seeking part of me truly hopes that the *itch attends and is incredibly snubbed. I hope all the other wives refuse to talk to her and keep her from their husbands. I hope people whisper about her and point at her. I hope she has the most miserable time of her life, and I hope her life goes to the toilet.
I still cannot believe she had the nerve and twisted ability to portray herself as a woman who "lives by honesty and the Golden Rule."
Give me a break. Please.
*Feel free to substitute the appropriate term for "she."
Monday, July 31, 2006
Saturday, July 22, 2006
That's gonna leave a mark...
Yep...I'm quoting Tommy Boy now...things are that bad. I was thinking about a conversation my husband and I had about the affair, and that phrase from Tommy Boy kept coming to mind. For those of you who haven't seen the movie, it stars David Spade and the now-deceased Chris Farley. Farley cashed in on his large size, his ability to play the clumsy but charming oaf. In Tommy Boy, he is a son who longs desperately to fill the large shoes left behind by his father. He takes over his father's business and, against all odds, succeeds despite his oafish qualities. Throughout the movie, he is banged by doors, hit by moving objects, and pummeled by various items. Each time, he responds with, "Son of a!!! That's gonna leave a mark!"
That's what I'm feeling about this affair. Hearing from my husband that he had the affair because he was miserable in our marriage. That he was insecure, and she made him "feel good" about himself. Ouch...that's gonna leave a mark.
An irony, if you can call it that, in this situation is that the other couple's marriage was on life support even before they moved across the state to our neighborhood. The husband had cheated on the wife, an emotional affair, some three years ago. At one point, he regaled her with a list of reasons why this mistress was so much better for him than his wife. He moved out, only to move back in 4 days later. Yep...that had to leave a mark. This wife, my "friend," would tell anyone who stood still that the day her husband told her that and moved out was the day "he killed [her]."
I have to questions why a woman who had been broken by infidelity by her husband would go on to inflict that same sort of pain on another woman, especially a friend. The background of this situation is this: This woman was my friend. We went out for coffee several times a week. We did our grocery shopping together. I listened to her complain about her apparently unbalanced husband who allegedly had her followed, checked her phone records, etc. When she first started talking about divorce, I had a four hour dinner with her to listen to her talk through things, to give her a neutral perspective. (Her affair with my husband had already begun at this point, and had existed for about 3 months.) So I have to question how she was capable of having an affair with my husband when she knew, first hand, the pain caused by a spouse's infidelity. It's too easy to say she just doesn't have a heart. She claims to have a soul, and she claims to be "on a journey led by God." (Don't get me started on that one...last I knew, God does NOT make us sin. So her claim that the past 10 months have been a God-led journey for her, through my husband nonetheless, really leave me absolutely enraged and gasping for air.)
So, yes...the past month and a half have really left a mark. And there are times that I just don't know that the marriage can or will survive this much pain. So he was miserable in our marriage? How about without it then? Because I guarantee you that whatever "misery" he experienced in our marriage is a petty scratch compared to the pain he has inflicted upon me. And I don't know that a mark that big is ever going to be erased.
That's what I'm feeling about this affair. Hearing from my husband that he had the affair because he was miserable in our marriage. That he was insecure, and she made him "feel good" about himself. Ouch...that's gonna leave a mark.
An irony, if you can call it that, in this situation is that the other couple's marriage was on life support even before they moved across the state to our neighborhood. The husband had cheated on the wife, an emotional affair, some three years ago. At one point, he regaled her with a list of reasons why this mistress was so much better for him than his wife. He moved out, only to move back in 4 days later. Yep...that had to leave a mark. This wife, my "friend," would tell anyone who stood still that the day her husband told her that and moved out was the day "he killed [her]."
I have to questions why a woman who had been broken by infidelity by her husband would go on to inflict that same sort of pain on another woman, especially a friend. The background of this situation is this: This woman was my friend. We went out for coffee several times a week. We did our grocery shopping together. I listened to her complain about her apparently unbalanced husband who allegedly had her followed, checked her phone records, etc. When she first started talking about divorce, I had a four hour dinner with her to listen to her talk through things, to give her a neutral perspective. (Her affair with my husband had already begun at this point, and had existed for about 3 months.) So I have to question how she was capable of having an affair with my husband when she knew, first hand, the pain caused by a spouse's infidelity. It's too easy to say she just doesn't have a heart. She claims to have a soul, and she claims to be "on a journey led by God." (Don't get me started on that one...last I knew, God does NOT make us sin. So her claim that the past 10 months have been a God-led journey for her, through my husband nonetheless, really leave me absolutely enraged and gasping for air.)
So, yes...the past month and a half have really left a mark. And there are times that I just don't know that the marriage can or will survive this much pain. So he was miserable in our marriage? How about without it then? Because I guarantee you that whatever "misery" he experienced in our marriage is a petty scratch compared to the pain he has inflicted upon me. And I don't know that a mark that big is ever going to be erased.
Saturday, July 15, 2006
A letter of advice
A friend of mine is celebrating her tenth anniversary with her husband today. I am going to their party with one of my dearest friends as my date. I really couldn't have a better date for this event.
I made a card for them this afternoon, but it just wasn't complete. So I sat down and wrote them a letter about marriage. It's probably strange coming from a woman whose marriage is on life support. Nonetheless, I thought I'd post it here. I've just eliminated their names, as well as my husband's name.
A Letter Regarding Marriage
I want to congratulate you on your celebration of ten years of marraige. Somehow, a card didn't seem enough, so I started to write this. It probably seems very strange for a woman going through what I am experiencing to write a letter with marital advice, but I think the problems (dH) and I are having have given me insight into what should have been different. Into what our marriage should have been.
I write this assuming that you two have not and will not experience the pain cause by infidelity. One of my greatest wishes for you both is that you never do. But I'm hoping maybe I can write something that will help you both keep your marriage as strong as it can possibly be.
[personal paragraph omitted]
I guess what I would tell you two from my experience is this. (None of this advice is new - these are things we've all heard before. But looking back now at what I thought I had, I can see the incredible importance of these facts.) Marriage is active. It is not something passive that exists simply becaause you two have entered into vows together. It is always growing, always changing, always adapting (for better or for worse.) Please put your marriage first. Above all else but your relationship with God. Your marriage cannot survive because you have children together. It can survive because every day you decide to put your best and your all into this relationship.
Be on the lookout for fading connections. I always thought I would recognize if we fell into that rut that everyone described. The condition of existing as parents, but not as partners. The existence in which we circled the children as orbiting planets that did not share a common denominator other than our incredible babies. But it sneaks up on you without you realizing it. Although it is incredibly hard work, I encourage you to examine your relationship daily in the light of a new day. Is there something you can say to encourage your partner, even though you may not have the energy? Even though you may have had a disagreement the night before? What can you say or do today to show each other that they are truly your other, possibly better, half?
Don't ever let a disagreement live. Don't agree to disagree. Compromise. Don't walk away angry. If you need a break before saying something you will regret, take five minutes. Ten minutes. But come back and talk through the disagreement. Anger and sorrow left unaddressed thrive and become something ugly. Negative emotions not aired become a cancer that will eat at the foundation of your marraige. Talk about eveything, no matter how silly, embarrassing, painful, or angering it my be. This is the person you want to grow old with. The person you want to retire with. The person you want to see with your grandchildren. The person whom you secretly hope you will die before, so you will never have to live without them. Don't let unspoken anger erode that, because it will.
That is the most important advice, I believe. Talk about everything. When it is still relevant (although later is better than never.) Don't wait until it all builds up and anger causes you to speak words that cannot be rescinded. Although you can apologize, words spoken can never be erased, and hurtful words can break a heart.
Loving someone means putting them before yourself. It sounds trite and/or impossible. Even if you rarely succeed at this, the few times you do will do incredible things for the strength of your marriage. Love means having faith that your spouse will do the same. It means trusting that your spouse will put their everything into your relationship, just as you do.
You two are each, in your own right, amazing people with incredible strength. Raising children who will be strong, intelligent, giving people is the best thing you can do for the world. Putting your marraige and each other first is the best thing you can do for yourselves. Your children will learn from you how love and marriage should be. From all I can see, they have an incredible model before them.
Congratulations and blessings to you both.
With love,
Sarah
I made a card for them this afternoon, but it just wasn't complete. So I sat down and wrote them a letter about marriage. It's probably strange coming from a woman whose marriage is on life support. Nonetheless, I thought I'd post it here. I've just eliminated their names, as well as my husband's name.
A Letter Regarding Marriage
I want to congratulate you on your celebration of ten years of marraige. Somehow, a card didn't seem enough, so I started to write this. It probably seems very strange for a woman going through what I am experiencing to write a letter with marital advice, but I think the problems (dH) and I are having have given me insight into what should have been different. Into what our marriage should have been.
I write this assuming that you two have not and will not experience the pain cause by infidelity. One of my greatest wishes for you both is that you never do. But I'm hoping maybe I can write something that will help you both keep your marriage as strong as it can possibly be.
[personal paragraph omitted]
I guess what I would tell you two from my experience is this. (None of this advice is new - these are things we've all heard before. But looking back now at what I thought I had, I can see the incredible importance of these facts.) Marriage is active. It is not something passive that exists simply becaause you two have entered into vows together. It is always growing, always changing, always adapting (for better or for worse.) Please put your marriage first. Above all else but your relationship with God. Your marriage cannot survive because you have children together. It can survive because every day you decide to put your best and your all into this relationship.
Be on the lookout for fading connections. I always thought I would recognize if we fell into that rut that everyone described. The condition of existing as parents, but not as partners. The existence in which we circled the children as orbiting planets that did not share a common denominator other than our incredible babies. But it sneaks up on you without you realizing it. Although it is incredibly hard work, I encourage you to examine your relationship daily in the light of a new day. Is there something you can say to encourage your partner, even though you may not have the energy? Even though you may have had a disagreement the night before? What can you say or do today to show each other that they are truly your other, possibly better, half?
Don't ever let a disagreement live. Don't agree to disagree. Compromise. Don't walk away angry. If you need a break before saying something you will regret, take five minutes. Ten minutes. But come back and talk through the disagreement. Anger and sorrow left unaddressed thrive and become something ugly. Negative emotions not aired become a cancer that will eat at the foundation of your marraige. Talk about eveything, no matter how silly, embarrassing, painful, or angering it my be. This is the person you want to grow old with. The person you want to retire with. The person you want to see with your grandchildren. The person whom you secretly hope you will die before, so you will never have to live without them. Don't let unspoken anger erode that, because it will.
That is the most important advice, I believe. Talk about everything. When it is still relevant (although later is better than never.) Don't wait until it all builds up and anger causes you to speak words that cannot be rescinded. Although you can apologize, words spoken can never be erased, and hurtful words can break a heart.
Loving someone means putting them before yourself. It sounds trite and/or impossible. Even if you rarely succeed at this, the few times you do will do incredible things for the strength of your marriage. Love means having faith that your spouse will do the same. It means trusting that your spouse will put their everything into your relationship, just as you do.
You two are each, in your own right, amazing people with incredible strength. Raising children who will be strong, intelligent, giving people is the best thing you can do for the world. Putting your marraige and each other first is the best thing you can do for yourselves. Your children will learn from you how love and marriage should be. From all I can see, they have an incredible model before them.
Congratulations and blessings to you both.
With love,
Sarah
Friday, July 14, 2006
Dear God...please bleach my mind or turn back time
I truly wish He would. I wish that He would selectively erase those parts of my mind that recognize that my husband had an affair with my friend. I wish He would erase that friend from my mind altogether. I wish He would turn back time so that my husband would have the option of making different choices. I wish He would eradicate that part of my brain in charge of emotions so I just wouldn't have to feel this much pain.
This is a day on which I just don't think I can take it anymore. I can't take the pain, rage, sorrow anymore. If I cry any more, I'll be dehydrated, I think. I just can't comprehend how the actions of two people could hurt so incredibly much. I'm at a point today where I was when this first came out...in so much pain and sorrow that I feel as though I'm trying to crawl out of my body. I just can't really stand to be in this body right now. If I could unzip my skin, crawl out, and leave my emotions behind, I would in a heartbeat.
If I hadn't opened the email from the truly evil woman who claims to have been my friend but was actually having an affair with my husband, I might be better. So yes...I should probably blame myself. But you know what? I won't. Had they not had an affair, I wouldn't have had the option to open this email and have all of this pain revisit me. So I'm just going to stick that blame where it belongs.
It makes me physically ill to read an email in which this woman claims that she's been on a journey led by God. (Last time I checked, God did not cause people to sin. And He took marriage very seriously...therefore, using my incredible skills of deduction, God did not lead her on a journey to adultery with my husband. I knew that law degree would come in handy.) It hollows out my stomach to see her write that she "was trying to do the right thing by everyone." (Interesting to know that having an affair with your close friend's husband is the right thing. Note to self: make no more friends.) Her claim to have done "all [she] could to help [me] in any way possible" makes my head spin.
I don't think I've ever before wanted to hurt someone physically. I certainly do today. I"m not sure I would hit the brakes if I saw her standing in the middle of the road. I guess I'd swerve, just because I do want to go to Heaven. But maybe my car would hip-check her a bit. I wouldn't lose sleep over that.
I'm just not sure the human body was made to hold this much pain. I want so, so badly just to crawl out of my body and leave this pain behind.
This is a day on which I just don't think I can take it anymore. I can't take the pain, rage, sorrow anymore. If I cry any more, I'll be dehydrated, I think. I just can't comprehend how the actions of two people could hurt so incredibly much. I'm at a point today where I was when this first came out...in so much pain and sorrow that I feel as though I'm trying to crawl out of my body. I just can't really stand to be in this body right now. If I could unzip my skin, crawl out, and leave my emotions behind, I would in a heartbeat.
If I hadn't opened the email from the truly evil woman who claims to have been my friend but was actually having an affair with my husband, I might be better. So yes...I should probably blame myself. But you know what? I won't. Had they not had an affair, I wouldn't have had the option to open this email and have all of this pain revisit me. So I'm just going to stick that blame where it belongs.
It makes me physically ill to read an email in which this woman claims that she's been on a journey led by God. (Last time I checked, God did not cause people to sin. And He took marriage very seriously...therefore, using my incredible skills of deduction, God did not lead her on a journey to adultery with my husband. I knew that law degree would come in handy.) It hollows out my stomach to see her write that she "was trying to do the right thing by everyone." (Interesting to know that having an affair with your close friend's husband is the right thing. Note to self: make no more friends.) Her claim to have done "all [she] could to help [me] in any way possible" makes my head spin.
I don't think I've ever before wanted to hurt someone physically. I certainly do today. I"m not sure I would hit the brakes if I saw her standing in the middle of the road. I guess I'd swerve, just because I do want to go to Heaven. But maybe my car would hip-check her a bit. I wouldn't lose sleep over that.
I'm just not sure the human body was made to hold this much pain. I want so, so badly just to crawl out of my body and leave this pain behind.
Thursday, July 13, 2006
Today
Today I am "blah." No real reason...I just have a case of the 'blahs.' The girls and I went to the doctor's office today to find that the baby has a couple of ear infections. A bottle of goopy pink amoxicillin, two muffins, a verrrrrrrrrrrrrrry large coffee, and lots of attempts to climb into the water fountain later, we were on our way home.
I am tired. For the past three nights, at least one child has been waking up and requiring attention. Either the baby has woken in the early morning with what I assume is ear pain, or the three year old has woken sobbing that she doesn't like her room...the very same room that we just painted an electric shade of lilac in order to appease her. It was a game of Musical Beds two nights ago. 3 y.o. DD woke up sobbing, so I crammed myself into her tiny toddler bed to comfort her. When I woke up later, she was asleep, so I trudged back to my bed...only to find her climbing her way into our bed 10 minutes later. After an hour of (cute, but undeniably LOUD) high-pitched yawns, physical rearrangements, elbows, and hair twirling (her, not me), I trudged back down the hallway to my son's room in pursuit of sleep. (He is at his grandparents' house for two weeks, so his bed was conveniently vacated.) I had just settled into the twilight of sleep when the baby started shrieking. I rocked her for an hour and a half to no avail. My husband tried his luck at getting her back to sleep (he has no luck apparently). Finally, we declared it a very early free-for-all and let the girls go wherever they wanted. The baby took off down the hall to organize my husband's morning work preparations. 3 y.o. DD climbed into my son's bed with me and picked up where she'd left off...loud yawns, hair twirling, and sharp elbows. Life has a way of finding you, doesn't it?
There's really nothing significant to write...I'm just down in the blahs and thought blogging might jolt me out of it, but I guess not. On the bright side, I'm finally taking steps to sell some of my scrapbooking supplies and to put money towards our debt. And at least I'm not buying SB supplies to try to cheer myself up. That's a start.
These photos are just miscellaneous pictures from happier times.
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
Broken hearts
It has been a very long time since I've blogged. I'm no longer the same person, to be sure. I read a book earlier this week in which the main character found out that her husband was having an affair. The character wrote that "she had died at 10:10 the previous night" when she found out. I think that sums it up pretty well.
You do die when you find out about a betrayal like that. Your heart is shattered and there is no way to make it the way it once was. Think about a vase. When it breaks, if it isn't irretrievably shattered, you try to glue it back in a desperate attempt to make it look the way it did before. But even with the most professional of glue jobs, you will always see the fault lines. It will never hold water the way it once did. If you think about it, it will never be the same. Out of necessity, it may become a decorative piece...it certainly cannot be a functional piece, as it no longer can keep a seal.
So I think that's what a heart does. It shatters. You can try to glue it back together, but I think you have to accept that it will no longer be the same. Maybe it will just beat for a while and keep you upright, but it won't hold those same emotions. Trust, love, hope, happiness. Those will just leak out because the heart no longer keeps a seal.
There are so many levels to betrayal. There's the main betrayal, of course. Falling emotionally and physically for someone outside of your marriage. That certainly hurts. But there are so many levels. Betrayal is more like Phyllo dough than pizza dough. There isn't just one thick layer. You peel it down and there are numerous paper-thin betrayals that underlie the one betrayal anyone can see from the surface. There's the betrayal of talking about your spouse in negative terms to "the other woman." There's the betrayal of having convinced your spouse all along that the marriage was fine. There's the betrayal of refusing to work on your marraige, while reserving the right to blame it for your indiscretions. There's the betrayal of putting things before God, your marraige, and your family. There's the betrayal of tearing two families apart.
There are more, but you get the picture.
There are so many levels to faith, too. When this came out, I knew that God would get me through. That was my mantra: God will get me through; God will get me through. I just need to keep breathing, because God will keep me upright. But as I continued to meet with my discipling friend, I started to learn about all of the many levels of faith. Mine began as something almost superficial. Me taking, taking, taking. "God, I need this. God I need that. Please help me God."
But I'm learning that faith is much deeper than that. True faith is honestly believing with your whole being that God really will get you through anything. Even if things get horribly worse, believing that God will carry you. True faith is letting go of an obsessive fear of the future, agreeing to hand those horrible, fearful thoughts over to God. It hadn't dawned on me that my fear that I was being taken on another deceitful ride was a weakness of faith. That has been the hardest part for me: letting go of fear. Handing those thoughts over to God and not letting them run my life - - letting God run it instead.
It's interesting to me how little things can bring the pain and fear and hollowness and emptiness back. Not little things, because they aren't little. But I'd been going along okay for the past two weeks. I think my brain was trying to pull a fast one by hiding the emotions...it's been doing that for years - why stop now?! But I found out over the weekend that a friend is going through a very similar situation. Hearing that it got worse over the weekend, I found myself weeping for both of us on Monday. Every fiber of my body just aches so badly for her. I so violently want to head down south and run over her husband. I want him to suffer 1/1000 of the amount that he has caused her to suffer. I start to wonder why I didn't feel this violent towards my husband, and then I decide it must be the survival instinct...no point to going to jail.
So hearing of her pain reminds me of mine. It's brought the anger and sorrow and jitteriness all back. And receiving an email from the former friend with whom my husband's betrayal occured has brought it back as well. The nausea, the hollow feeling inside, the sense of unrest...not knowing what to do but needing to be in motion so I can't sit still and think about things.
I suppose it's good to blog about these things. Then there will be a record of this process...whether it is a process of healing, forgiveness, and a new beginning, or a totally different process altogether.
I'm hopeful. He is hopeful. It's a start.
You do die when you find out about a betrayal like that. Your heart is shattered and there is no way to make it the way it once was. Think about a vase. When it breaks, if it isn't irretrievably shattered, you try to glue it back in a desperate attempt to make it look the way it did before. But even with the most professional of glue jobs, you will always see the fault lines. It will never hold water the way it once did. If you think about it, it will never be the same. Out of necessity, it may become a decorative piece...it certainly cannot be a functional piece, as it no longer can keep a seal.
So I think that's what a heart does. It shatters. You can try to glue it back together, but I think you have to accept that it will no longer be the same. Maybe it will just beat for a while and keep you upright, but it won't hold those same emotions. Trust, love, hope, happiness. Those will just leak out because the heart no longer keeps a seal.
There are so many levels to betrayal. There's the main betrayal, of course. Falling emotionally and physically for someone outside of your marriage. That certainly hurts. But there are so many levels. Betrayal is more like Phyllo dough than pizza dough. There isn't just one thick layer. You peel it down and there are numerous paper-thin betrayals that underlie the one betrayal anyone can see from the surface. There's the betrayal of talking about your spouse in negative terms to "the other woman." There's the betrayal of having convinced your spouse all along that the marriage was fine. There's the betrayal of refusing to work on your marraige, while reserving the right to blame it for your indiscretions. There's the betrayal of putting things before God, your marraige, and your family. There's the betrayal of tearing two families apart.
There are more, but you get the picture.
There are so many levels to faith, too. When this came out, I knew that God would get me through. That was my mantra: God will get me through; God will get me through. I just need to keep breathing, because God will keep me upright. But as I continued to meet with my discipling friend, I started to learn about all of the many levels of faith. Mine began as something almost superficial. Me taking, taking, taking. "God, I need this. God I need that. Please help me God."
But I'm learning that faith is much deeper than that. True faith is honestly believing with your whole being that God really will get you through anything. Even if things get horribly worse, believing that God will carry you. True faith is letting go of an obsessive fear of the future, agreeing to hand those horrible, fearful thoughts over to God. It hadn't dawned on me that my fear that I was being taken on another deceitful ride was a weakness of faith. That has been the hardest part for me: letting go of fear. Handing those thoughts over to God and not letting them run my life - - letting God run it instead.
It's interesting to me how little things can bring the pain and fear and hollowness and emptiness back. Not little things, because they aren't little. But I'd been going along okay for the past two weeks. I think my brain was trying to pull a fast one by hiding the emotions...it's been doing that for years - why stop now?! But I found out over the weekend that a friend is going through a very similar situation. Hearing that it got worse over the weekend, I found myself weeping for both of us on Monday. Every fiber of my body just aches so badly for her. I so violently want to head down south and run over her husband. I want him to suffer 1/1000 of the amount that he has caused her to suffer. I start to wonder why I didn't feel this violent towards my husband, and then I decide it must be the survival instinct...no point to going to jail.
So hearing of her pain reminds me of mine. It's brought the anger and sorrow and jitteriness all back. And receiving an email from the former friend with whom my husband's betrayal occured has brought it back as well. The nausea, the hollow feeling inside, the sense of unrest...not knowing what to do but needing to be in motion so I can't sit still and think about things.
I suppose it's good to blog about these things. Then there will be a record of this process...whether it is a process of healing, forgiveness, and a new beginning, or a totally different process altogether.
I'm hopeful. He is hopeful. It's a start.
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