Moment-by-Moment Survival Guide for the Heartbroken

So often I hear of betrayed women feeling "stuck". They don't want to leave their marriages, at least not yet. But they just can't seem to move past their pain. And though I wish there was an easy fix for such "stuck-ness", I know of none. I do, however, know of a not-so-easy fix. At least it wasn't easy for me.
It's a matter of focusing on the "now".
It's perhaps no coincidence that, perusing the bookshelves for something – anything – that would help me cope with my maelstrom of pain, I picked up a little book called The Power of Now, by a guy named Eckhart Tolle. (This was in his pre-Oprah days and I'd never heard of him.)
I began reading through my tears. And though it's not a simple read, I managed to discern this: Pain comes from focussing on the past. And anxiety comes from focussing on the future.
Yet we live in the present. All we ever have is this precise moment.
Consider that so much of the pain surrounding betrayal is about focusing on what happened (the mind movies imagining the two of them together, the reading and re-reading of text messages and e-mails, the triggers that transport us back to the moment when we first discovered or that remind us of what was happening one week/month/year ago) or on what might happen (he could do it again, I could wind up destitute and alone, they could be laughing at me from their yacht...). In both cases, however, you're not focusing on the now. Right now, for example, you're reading this post. Whether or not he is or is not still having an affair isn't the point. You, right now, are okay.
That's not to say you're not hurting. Probably a lot.
But you're alive. You're breathing and functional and able to read. So, for all intents and purposes, you're okay. Stay focussed on that simple truth.
You are okay. I am okay.
And guess what? What happened is over. All the hand-wringing and finger-pointing in the world is not going to undo what's already occurred. And about what might happen? Well, you likely have a lot less control over that than you realize. You can control yourself. And that's about it. The rest, you have to take on faith.
It's not easy. Certainly not for a reform(ing) control freak like I. To give up the long-held notion that I can magically control those around me was tough. But the evidence that I couldn't – for all my best intents – was all around me.
I had "now". So I held on tight.

Putting Down Your Pain

A friend gave me the most beautiful daybook over the holidays: The Book of Awakening by Mark Nepo. I'd never heard of him before, but already – on January 4th – he feels like an old friend.
On January 2nd, he tells the story of a friend who was preparing to paint a room in his house. He went to the store to buy the supplies – the paint, brushes, rollers, drop-cloths, etc. He returned home, then loaded it all up in his arms to carry it into his house. Of course, he reaches the door and has no hands free to open it. He refuses to put any of the stuff down and struggles to get the door open. He juggles, he twists. Eventually, of course, everything crashes to the ground, including him.
The lesson?
Sometimes we've got to put our stuff down to open the door.
It's a pretty straightforward metaphor. But how many of us do it? I know I'm guilty of carrying a whole lot more than I should. I somehow determined that the more I carry, the more I'm a martyr. And I've spent a lot of time over the years polishing my inner martyr until it's blinding.
The problem is that being a martyr doesn't really get you where you want to go. Which, in the face of betrayal, is beyond the pain – or, to stick with our metaphor, through the door. Being a martyr – you know the one who constantly reminds your spouse that you could "never" have done what he – keeps our hands full and our heart closed.
Holding on seems like the easier option. Or at least the safer one. To put everything – or even some things – down to open the door seems like more work. We think that we'll have to pick everything back up again.
But by putting down some of our "stuff" – our bruised ego, for example; our clenched fury – we're then free to pick and choose what we truly need. When it's all spread out in front of us, rather than piled in our arms, we can see what is useful to us and what is perhaps weighing us down.
It's hard, if not impossible, to walk through the door into healing when you're holding on to:
• blame (a favorite of mine was reminding my husband that he'd "ruined" me)
• ego (too frequently I reminded my husband that the OW was truly repulsive, comments that never failed to make me feel small and petty)
• fear (how could I ever be sure he wouldn't do this to me again? Truth is, I can't ever be sure)
• regret (how often did I wish I could turn back time and scream "Not in this lifetime!!" to the "do you take this man..." question)
• and on and on.
Once I could see how much all this was holding me back, it became easier to put it down. It became easier to focus on that which would take me through the door and prove useful to me once inside. Such things as compassion (for myself, as much as for him), patience (Good LORD, healing takes time...), faith (that I would continue to heal despite setbacks), and wisdom.
Is there anything you're holding on to that you could put down (like your 5th martini, for example? Or that Twinkie?) to help you through the door? Consider it. There's no prize for getting through without effort. The prize is simply getting through at all.

When the Going Gets Tough...the Tough Get a Plan

Whether or not you're staying and working it out, headed straight for your divorce lawyer or are adopting a wait-and-see stance, chances are you're feeling pretty off-kilter right now. Even if you're 110% that you're doing the right thing for you, you'll no doubt be faced with some opposition from those around you who think that they – not you. definitely not you! – know what's best. And it's often in complete contrast to what YOU think is best.
Herewith your guide to surviving tough times and tough choices.

1. Don't expect it to feel good.
Sure I blab on about how you need to trust your instincts and blah blah honestly blah, but that doesn't mean it's going to feel good. You might recognize absolutely that your husband is incapable of honesty and commitment and that you simply can't get over his betrayal, but that doesn't mean you're going to skip out the door into a glorious new life. Chances are you'll weep. You'll wail. You'll rant and rage. Your in-laws might cast you as a demon. Your friends might criticize you for "giving up (especially those who feel stuck in miserable marriages!)." Your children might accuse you of ruining their life. And you might wonder if you really do know what's best for you.
Yes. You do. The right decision isn't always the easy decision. But it's still the right one. You'll know the difference deep down. Even if you doubt it now and then.

2. It's absolutely critical that you take care of yourself.
A diet of soda and crackers isn't going to give you the strength you need to stand up to the critics (even the critics that exist only in your head).
This is a tough one because so many of us view self-care as selfish. There's a big difference. Self-care insists that your needs are as important as everyone else's. Selfish insists that your needs are more important than everyone else's. Where it gets confusing is that sometimes we need to be selfish about self-care. We need to put everyone else's needs aside (help with homework, a drive to the mall, you get the idea....) in order to give ourselves what we need (a warm bath, a run, a dip into a good novel, coffee with a supportive friend...). Now, especially now, it's time to put self-care at the top of your to-do list. Treat yourself as kindly as would a friend going through a similar tough times.

3. A network of support can prop you up when you can't do it yourself.
Get thee to a 12-step group for spouses of sex addicts, join Surviving Infidelity (which in my estimation, is the best online support group, with moderation to keep comments in check), seek out a group for betrayed wives (or start one!), post here and join and the conversation. Confide in a trustworthy friend, get a good therapist, talk it over with your dog. You can't go this road alone without making it a whole lot longer and lonelier than it needs to be. The isolation associated with a spouse's betrayal was, for me, almost worst than the initial betrayal. I felt so desperately alone in my pain. You don't need to be. It's the main reason I started this site...

4. Know that this all takes time.
Three to five years is the generally accepted timeframe for healing from a spouse's betrayal. I can't emphasize enough how long this whole damn process takes. The good news is you won't feel lousy the whole time you're healing. You will feel better incrementally, with occasional steps backward just to keep you on your toes. Then one day you'll notice you haven't cried all day. Or for a few days. You'll notice that you don't jump at loud noises. That your stomach doesn't flip at the sight of certain vehicles, or the sounds of certain songs, or on certain days of the year.
You'll never forget this. It's woven into the story of your life. But it won't BE your life. That I promise.

#1 Question About Betrayal: "Will the pain ever end?"

The short answer is "yes". When it will end depends on a lot of things: your personality, the depth of the betrayal (or your perception of the depth of betrayal), your support system, your spouse's behaviour, the affair partner's willingness or reluctance to exit your life...
In the meantime, there are things you can do. You might feel paralyzed, but by taking some control you'll be amazed at how empowered you'll feel.

Meet with a lawyer:
Having a consultation will help you figure out what your options are and what a separation/divorce will mean for you in terms of finances, child support and so on. Knowledge is power.

Just be:
Yes, it sounds flakey. But so often in our misery, we cut out the things that would actually help us feel a bit better. I spent so much time in my head (what's he doing right now? Is he still seeing her? Should I check his cell phone bills? Omigod I'm going to vomit...) that I forgot to just be in the moment. Sorry for going all Eckhart Tolle on you, but if there's anything betrayal can teach you, it's that you're not as in control of your life as you might think. This moment...and your response to it...is all any of us have. So try to just be. I finally got it one day when I was walking my dogs, something I loved to do...but had stopped doing because I couldn't obsess over phone records and Visa statements if I was out of the house. So...there I was walking the dogs, noticing that it was actually a gorgeous winter day. Blue sky, white snow twinkling in the light, the crunch of snow under my feet... And, briefly, I felt the weight lift from my shoulders. I lasted only seconds...but it was enough to convince me that it was possible.
What can you do to help you lose yourself...in a good way. Exercise? Listen to music (no cheatin' songs, please, unless they've about kicking a cheater's butt!)? Read a good book? Clean? (No kidding, a friend of mine gets great pleasure out of cleaning her house. Weird, I know!)

If all else fails...medicate:
Let me start by stating I have a strong but entirely understandable aversion to anti-depressants, as my mother had a serious prescription drug addiction for much of my life. I fought the idea of taking ADs hard...and kept fighting for 1 1/2 years after D-Day #1. But though I had moments of light (see dog-walking, above), rather than growing more frequent, they were growing less. And when I found myself more often than not wishing I could just die, it seemed prudent to at least entertain the notion of chemical intervention.
I was furious. I hated that everyone – most notably my therapist who's an MD – thought I needed to be medicated out of my pain. But, as she explained, chronic stress and anxiety can alter the chemical balance of your brain. I grudgingly agreed to try. And within two days, the darkness parted and a bit of light shone through. By the end of a week, I had some of my energy back. And not long after, I felt equipped -- mentally and physically -- to cope with my husband's sex addiction, my mother's unexpected death (inconsiderate of her to die just when I needed her most!) and help my three children cope with their grandmother's death and just growing up.
So...by no means am I a pill-pusher. But nor am I anti-ADs anymore. I'm in the process, 1 1/2 years later, of being weaned off. No side effects and I feel good. Which means they did their job.
If you can't imagine ever feeling good again, it's worth discussing the possibility of ADs or anti-anxiety medication with your doctor. I've learned the hard way that asking for help is courageous.

Hiking the Appalachian Trail: The best/worst excuse your cheating spouse ever offered

History is replete with men caught with their pants down. While some manage to come forth with an excuse that's at least possible if not probable (eg. "hiking the Appalachian Trail"), others produce such whoppers that the only appropriate response is unbridled laughter – after pitching a stiletto at their head, of course.

This is your chance to submit the best/worst excuses you've ever heard. Hold nothing back. Bring

'em on...

Surviving Infidelity: The best advice you never heard

Mention cheating and you'll inspire some strong reactions, often along the lines of "castrate him!" and "homewrecking whore". While self-righteous fury is occasionally cathartic, it rarely serves the cheatee very well, who may well still love the potentially castrated man (though she's likely less fond of the homewrecker).

The result is that few of us are offered particularly healthy advice from our friends and family, even -- sometimes especially -- if they've gone through it themselves. My friend Annie, with whom I confided because she'd had a similar situation and, I thought, could support me, responded to my comment that I didn't want to lose my marriage with a dismissive, "well, I wouldn't stay". End of conversation.

Sadly, this leaves so many of us feeling doubly injured. We've suffered this grievous injustice, we think, and yet talking about it leaves us open to poorly thought out opinions, self-serving advice or gossip. I learned very quickly to confide in very few people and only those whom I felt sure would simply support me.

Fortunately, I did come across a wonderful Web site – Surviving Infidelity – that allowed me to discuss my situation anonymously and candidly, without fear or judgement. If I did receive unwarranted advice, I simply dismissed what didn't work for me and took what did. Because it was from strangers, it was so much easier to do.

It also inspired me to create this site -- to create a sense of community around the issue of infidelity and to invite other women to join the conversation. Betrayal changes who you are. Never again will you look at the world through the same eyes. It helps to share this new you with others as you figure out where you go from here.

What are some of the Web sites that have helped you? Please post them here for others to try.