Separating or Divorcing, Part 3 (Part 2 is FULL)
- Join the Club...and Share Your Story
- Books for the Betrayed
- Share Your Story: Finding Out, Part 4 (3 is full!!...
- Share Your Story: Multiple Affairs PART 2
- Stupid S#*t Cheaters Say
- Just found out? Share your story...
- Finding Out, Part 5 (Please post here. Part 4 is f...
- Separating or Divorcing, Part 3 (Part 2 is FULL)
- Separating or Divorcing? Share your thoughts here....
- Feeling Stuck? Share your story here... (Part 19)...
- Feeling Stuck Part 20
Monday, February 15, 2010
When Smiling Hurts
Take today, for example. I'm completely off ADs (yay me and my formerly mutinous endorphins!). It's mid-February, which isn't exactly my favorite time of year. My house is undergoing renos so it's a bit chaotic. My career is in the pooper. I could go on... But the point is, life is not exactly coming up roses.
And, to compound all those pesky little problems, my marriage is, ummm, fragile.
And that's the thing with betrayal. You can patch the marriage back together. It can look almost as good as new.
But it's not.
The cracks are there. Making it more likely to shatter again at the slightest tremor.
Like, for example, having a pre-teen who's got more attitude than Lindsay Lohan. Like having financial issues. Like dealing with renos.
All the day-to-day stressors seem somehow bigger when they're against the backdrop of betrayal.
Suddenly, I find myself doubting my husband's announcement that he has an early meeting tomorrow (early a.m. was one of his favored adultery hours). "Meeting my ass," goes that nasty little voice in my head.
I find myself feeling unappreciated (which, frankly, I am at the moment). Feeling overwhelmed (which I also am at the moment). And feeling incredibly furious at all those I'm-sure-wonderful women boasting about their wonderful husbands and all the wonderful ways they feel loved and appreciated.
So...thriving might be a bit of an overstatement at the moment. Surviving is even a bit generous in description.
You might say I'm hanging on by my fingernails over a chasm that could easily swallow me whole with nary a burp.