I am not sure that I am posting this in the correct forum, for me D Day was nearly a year ago and we are supposed to be in R for over 9 months now but things are not going well.
I found SI about 8 weeks ago when I did a web search on whether a cheating wife would ever even begin to comprehend the depth and breadth of pain they caused the one that loved them most.
I have just been a silent observer on SI until today but I feel as if I have at last found a safe place where there is some understanding of the hell I am living in. The world goes on around me. There is laughter, children running, commercial transactions happening, conversations over meals being shared, and no one notices that I am in this isolated capsule of hell and torment.
Being new to this space I am not sure what the rules of SI are? Will this post be too long, too vicious, will the language be too strong. I am hoping that the moderators will gently correct me where that is necessary. I also struggle with a lot of the abbreviations and hope I get them right.
What prompted me to now contribute is a posting that I read last week that, all of a sudden, cleared all my confused thinking of the past year. In less than a day it gave me the clarity of thought and sense of certainty that nothing, not MC not IC not agonising conversations with WW over many months, not extended treatment supervised by a psychiatrist, has managed to achieve.
I suppose that before I get to the posting and the effect it had on me I need to share some of the details. This is extremely difficult for me. I am a very private person. -
We were married in Jan 1993. Enjoyed 9 years of married bliss without children. We used these years to add to our academic qualifications, build careers, accumulate some wealth, but we also used them to travel, explore the world, strengthen our relationship and keep romance alive through stolen weekends at boutique hotels or extending business trips away so that the spouse could be part of our lives here too. Neither of us felt any need to introduce children into our lives. We were just so happy. We had actually spoken about it and agreed that neither of us had any desire to have children, until , one day my wife’s body clock kicked in and she came home saying “I want a baby!” She interpreted my utter shock as opposition to the idea and a small, explosive fight ensued until I could convince her that it was merely shock and that I was thrilled with the idea. DD was born in 2001. It was one of the happiest weeks of my life. WW stayed in hospital for as long as she could get insurance to allow it. Everything was done for her and the baby, all she had to do was enjoy our new treasure. DS was born in 2006. Again a week etched in my memory as sheer joy.
In 2008 WW said that she wanted to re-enter the world of work and started a new job. She has always been good at what she does and was appointed continental brand manager for a Multi-nat.
For a family with 2 young children and a husband with an executive job, there were some challenges. Her job required her to spend one week a quarter in London and one week a quarter in some other large city, usually in Europe or the Far East. We pulled together as a team and dealt with these. What made things a little easier was that after WW dad had died we added a cottage to the house for her mom to stay in. It was done in such a way that both MIL and us as a family had total privacy, but easy access to each other when needed.
There were difficult moments. DS had severe respiratory problems in his early years and I have the vivid memory of my 6 year old DD and I sleeping on the cold hard floor of a Paediatric ICU under the hospital bed of DS where he was “tented” to allow him to keep breathing. It was a particularly difficult period for me at work and I had called WW to ask if there was any way that her trip could be shortened but no it could not, it had to be extended by a day. On another occasion, the need to extend her business trip meant that she had to miss mother’s day with the children who had put so much effort into preparing a special surprise for her. But we realise that work makes its demands and we sometimes need to accommodate. We still managed to get good quality family time in. At least 2 good family vacations every year. Weekends as a family, every Friday night supper together around the family table, stolen romantic weekends and even the odd date night.
As gran aged she became less mobile and more isolated so we made a point of spending every Saturday morning with her. On Saturday 11 June of last year the kids and I go across to have breakfast with Gran (WW is in London on business). We find Gran unconscious, groaning, in a pool of vomit on her bed and sheets soaked in the most fowl smelling excrement I have ever encountered. The first call is to the paramedics. They are there in under 3 minutes. The next call is to WW. Her cell goes straight to voice mail so I have to look up the hotel number and get them to put me through to the room. The phone is answered by a man! The alarm bells in my head go off immediately but the calm manner in which he answers and says “sure” and just hands her the phone gives me some reassurance. Anyway, no time to ponder that more deeply, there are serious matters at hand (in retrospect, what could be more serious than your marriage?), but ever purposeful I tell her about her mom, say it is critical that she return home immediately and then set about getting ambulances, locating health insurance forms, informing family doctors, filling in an endless number of forms at the hospital, getting her moved from emergency to ICU, and in all this, making sure that a 14 yrld DD and 9 yrld DS are washed, fed, clothed and comforted.
I fetch WW from the airport, her cheeks wet with tears, eyes red from crying and her first words are “how is mom?”. The next 2 weeks are spent living at the ICU, with at first the joy of a seemingly strong recovery of MIL and then a gradual slow demise until the 1:30 AM call from the hospital informing us that she is gone.
It is then forms, decisions and arranging the cremation. Followed by a family trip to the mountains to spread the ashes and set MIL free where we had done the same for FIL. And then, for the first time in weeks, there was relative calm that allowed the subconscious voices in my head to again ask, “What was a man doing in WW’s hotel room at 8:30 on a Saturday morning?”. I then recognised that there was a 2 hour time difference between home and London, so the voice now screamed, “what was a man doing in WW’s hotel room at 6:30 on a Saturday morning?”. (I actually got this calculation wrong, the UK was in Daylight saving time at that point so there was only a 1 hour difference).
That evening, when we were alone I asked the question. Her face flushed with embarrassment, tears welled up in her eyes and she said, “I am sorry. I am so sorry” and at that precise moment my life ended.
The confession began to trickle out. There were 2 PAs. The first began soon after the business trips started. The plush hotels, the dinners in restaurants on company expense accounts, the intelligent conversations late into the night the fairy-tale world of all this without any of the mundane, was intoxicating. The first PA lasted nearly 3 years. It ended when OM1’s BS found out and made him change jobs. The 2nd PA had started nearly 18 months ago.
I have never felt such intense furry, hurt and worthlessness in my entire life. It was only the “stiff upper lip” Anglo-Saxon cultural programing embedded deep in my DNA that prevented me from assaulting her, smashing things or screaming, but she says that she has never seen me that angry –ever, and it was the first time in her life that she was afraid in my presence. In a cold as steel whisper I called her a whore and a slut, (on a side note, I saw in one of the other forums WW discussing the hurt they felt when called that by their BH’s. My time on SI has been limited but I find it quite incredulous that the hurt done to them by this word is so great that it becomes a topic of conversation for them. It becomes ever clearer to me that the WSs cannot even begin to conceive the hurt that they have inflicted on an innocent party (you will remember what I was looking for when I found this community) but they then feel entitled to, as guilty as sin deceivers, feel hurt at a word said in utter anguish. My WW certainly met all the requirements for me to call her a whore. In the one incidence that came out through the disclosure phase it was apparent that she followed the scrip of Julia Stiles in the series “Blue” where Stiles plays the part of a high end hooker, to the letter, only difference is my WW didn’t take the $600 dollars at the end of the evening. Yes her actions were those of a whore, just a very cheap one. Also if the actions of my WW are not the perfect definition of a slut then what would it be?)
I wanted her out of my house, out of my life, out of my family! But I wanted to protect my precious kids who had just endured such heartache with the death of their gran. Gran’s place was now available so she moved in there that evening. Fortunately WW had often complained about my snoring so we used that as the excuse to the kids and put on the best possible show for them but I could not stand the site of WW. We cancelled all social contact and engagement, took turns in attending school functions so that I did not have to be with her.
Even this was too much contact and I wanted her out so we used the excuse that because she had cut her work trip short she had to go back. She moved into a hotel far enough away that the kids or friends would not bump into her.
I used this time. I consulted with our family attorney. I attempted as much discovery as possible. Our marriage trust levels were always such that we shared the same passwords and pins for everything, phones, email accounts, bank accounts. It is quite ironic that the only thing that she had relied on to protect her dirty little secret was my absolute trust of her! So I had free access to the entire sordid history. I discovered the discussion where it was agreed that private email accounts would be used to avoid any discovery by the company and possible disciplinary action for breach of what was clearly forbidden by the company code of conduct. I discovered some very painful facts such as her manipulating her birth control to ensure that she never had her period on a week that they were together. The result was the delayed flows were heavier and longer during the times that should have been my intimate time with her. I discovered that up to 2 months prior to a trip they started sharing their anticipation for the time together. How they were disappointed when the next designated city was an interesting city as then they might be tempted to go and see the sights rather than spend time together in the hotel room. Possibly the most painful of all was that the trip extensions when I had to spend the night under a hospital bed and then also for the missed mother’s day was so that they could have more free time together.
She had also been using this time. She had thrown herself into research on how to save a marriage after an affair. She resigned from her job and found another that did not require out of country travel. She confided in friends, but only the 5 closest. After about 4 weeks she called me and asked if we could meet just to speak. We were in limbo and could not live the rest of our lives like this and needed some sort of plan of the way forward, whatever that would be. I agreed. I wanted a 1000 questions answered.
She told me about the job change (although even while I found that as a very positive move, the way it was presented to me hurt me even further), she brought a trunk full of books (even one with the outrageous title, something along the lines of “my husband’s affair was the best thing that happened to our marriage” – must have been a pretty Sh*ty marriage) and as much academic research as she could lay her hands on. She knew me well enough to know that this would speak to me.
The research showed that up to 70% of marriages that experience infidelity can be saved. She knew that this would throw a switch for me. One of my flaws is that I have little tolerance for failure in myself. In academics, business and in service to the community, I have achieve far more than most. (I would imagine that at this point some will think that they have the excuse for the infidelity right here. Obviously I gave so much externally that it would have been impossible for me to give anything as a husband and father. My best defence is that WW freely states that I have been the best father and husband she knows). My mind said to me that if 70% of marriages survive infidelity then if I allow ours to fail I will have been a double failure. I would have allowed my marriage to fail and I would then be in the 30% and surely 30 out of a 100 is a failure, the 70% must be where the winners are. So I agreed to walk a path of R. It was disastrous.
My wife arranged for marriage counseling. It was with a woman Councillor. The parking at her offices was horrendous and I arrived at the session in a foul mood. I then get spun the yarn that an affair, if handled correctly, can be the best thing that happens to a marriage. I exploded, how can anything good ever come out of my wife allowing a stranger to penetrate her with the “most forceful thrusts she has ever experienced in her entire life" (her words to him in one of their reflective post trip emails) and ejaculate in what should be my sacred paradise, produce anything of benefit for our marriage.
The counselor did not appreciate my approach and if that was the way I continued to conducted myself I was dooming our marriage to failure (yip, the marriage failure would be on me). She then immediately goes on with “you have to recognise, acknowledge and own the fact that you are responsible for 50% of the problems in the marriage”. I got up and left. I told my wife that she was free to try IC but that it HAS to be with someone other than that woman who would do nothing other than poison her mind.
WW convinced me to go to IC. It was a disaster.
Like a lab rat I was subjected to a battery of endless personality and disposition tests. Who I was as a human being was presented to me in pyramids, quadrants, graphs and endless bullet points or bold subheadings with superficial descriptive text. All this did, was dig the pit that I was in, even deeper. What it suggested was that I am in fact such a wondrous being that I cannot other than be in awe of myself and love myself to my core.
Just to give you some insight into the garbage I was fed, here are some direct extracts from the output of one test I had to endure;
Triangular Configuration
There is adequate gratification within your work/application environment. This provides more than adequate chemical resilience in terms of wellness and performance. There is adequate gratification within your personal/interpersonal environment. This provides more than adequate chemical resilience in terms of wellness and performance.
Verve Score
You have near optimal levels of self-confidence and self-esteem. In this regard you have the capacity for personal self-development and enjoyment
Corporate profile
You are currently in a maximally resourceful zone in your work environment.
And yet I am such a failure as a husband that my WW has to find gratification in the arms of complete strangers that she knows almost nothing about. Are you surprised that I saw no value in IC.
WW moved back home so that we could at least talk and try and work things out. She still stayed in gran’s place but was part of family suppers and we went to events as a family unit. But even with all of this I just slid into an even deeper place until the pain was so impossible that it was now unbearable. That triggered me into action. I don’t let others dictate my life. I take control and action. I crafted a plan. Exquisite in detail.
I updated my will, leaving everything to my children. I compiled and easy referenceable inventory of all assets and investments, I meticulously executed a plan to get a security access card for the building that I had identified as the most suitable. I hand wrote notes of apology to my two children explaining how I knew that suicide was one of the most selfish things that anybody could inflict on someone that they loved but that unfortunately there is something even more selfish than that and that had been inflicted on me and I just could not bear the pain. I hoped that, them knowing that I was at last freed from the pain, would be some consolation in their grief.
Fortunately, on my team at work, I have a number of outstanding Doctors. One was astute enough to spot the depth of my depression and notice that any reference to the future had completely vanished from my conversations. He instantly knew what was in the planning. He got a psychiatrist friend of his to find time in his impossibly full appointment book, tricked me into a “site visit” with him. Drove me straight to the specialist’s rooms and walked me in. He saved my life.
I was under psychiatric care for 6 months. I was prescribed Zoloft. The clouds began to lift just a little. He recommended a marriage councillor and because it came from him I was prepared to try again.
The councillor was a man, who himself was divorced after an affair. My wife had some concerns about his impartiality but these melted when he gave her numbers to call of wives whose marriages he helped save. The councillor was brilliant.
He had me write a letter to WW explaining to her what her A had cost me. In 18 pages I explained how she had brutally raped and murdered our marriage, robbed me of all of my past, my present and any future that I had thought we might have. He helped me deal with what I thought would be the most impossible of all and that is the nightmare of another man being intimate with my wife in ways that were promised to only me. It was brutally painful but worked.
WW moved back into the bedroom, there is laughter around the family table again. We have enjoyed a few family weekend getaways. There have even been some pleasant date nights. But this is all still superficial. I am still gutted and sore. I have no interest in discussing or even imagining a future. The few attempts at sexual intimacy have been a disaster. Total erectile dysfunction. I don’t find WW sexually attractive anymore. I think my subconscious sees her as damaged goods. My wounds are still raw and getting more painful, not less, and WW wife seems to be slipping easily into the normality of life as it used to be, oblivious that I am again sinking in the dark pit. She believes we have achieved R and is beginning to get irritated when I still need questions answered, or make trust building demands, or cry.
Apart from the few tears that welled up on D day confrontation but never actually fell, she has not cried once.
And then to the post that triggered it all. I was reading on one of the strings, I cannot remember which it was and haven’t been able to find it again, but there was good constructive dialogue between BS’s and WS’s that I found valuable and encouraging until I got to one post by a WW who shared some of the difficulty she experienced in letting the AP go but then BH and family were at a park as a normal family. Laughter, children playing, dads pushing kids on the swings and she said something along the following lines to herself, “how could I ever have valued a snog in the toilet more than this?” As I read this post I felt deeper rage than I had even experienced on D Day. The whole world around me blurred. I was literally blinded by rage. If the writer of the post had been in the room with me I would have violently assaulted her. Even my deep “stiff upper lip old chap” DNA would not have been able to hold me back. I did smash things. Everything I could lay my hands on. I stumbled and fell and only stopped when I hurt myself so badly I nearly knocked myself unconscious. I then just lay in a heap and sobbed like I never have through this entire process.
I hope that the WW who made that post never reads this or if she does that she realises that none of this is actually her doing. Her contributions have been so honest, sincere and constructive that I would hate to be the cause of her withdrawing her input that is helping so many damaged BS to heal.
When I was able to at last think rationally again, I recognised that all that fury was actually directed at my wife.
We are blessed as a family to live in a beautiful place with streams and meadows, fairways and parks and on the previous Sunday we had a family picnic in one of the parks. There were children playing, dads having fund romping on the ground with their kids, children running into the arms of mothers and my wife and kids were cavorting on the blanket with much laughter. What my wife had not noticed is that in all of this I was in a very dark place again.
I had withdrawn to a bench far away from everyone as I was so sore inside that I could not bear to be that hurt while there was so much happiness around me. My WW was so happy in her contentment that she again had no care for me. This was not a new, post A life of ours. It was what our life always was and here, while I am in a moment of deepest hurt, WW was enjoying everything that she had consciously chosen to put at risk for a few moments of pure selfishness.
Reading the post put it into even clearer perspective. WW had consciously, very deliberately chosen a snog in a toilet (yes she had one. In a toilet for the physically impaired, in an international airport, one last quick one to tide them over the next 3 months of separation).
I was, our family was, mother’s day with my precious children was, of less value to her than a snog in the toilet.
Reflecting on the post in a slightly more sane moment brought me to the realisation that the hurt of consciously being valued as less than a snog in a toilet would never be healed. I was, am and always will be, worth much more than that.
Realising that choosing not to stay with the person that has valued you and all that you hold so dearly, no more than a snog in a toilet, is not a personal failure. It is their failure that you have no part or responsibility in.
The level of relief that I have experienced from that moment is indescribable. I have absolute clarity. We will D.
I have been to see the lawyer again. I have begun to piece a comprehensive plan together. I have begun to think through how I can minimise any hurt to the children. I now need to think through how and when I tell her.
It is quite ironic. This time I have a dark secret that is going to turn her world upside-down.
I have no desire to hurt her in this or use it to extract revenge of any sort. In fact what I am really looking for is thoughts and advice on how I can minimise any hurt and then be supportive in healing the hurt.
If you look carefully at my thoughts and plans you will see a fundamental change in my outlook on the world. You will notice that I am beginning to see the faint outline of a possible future for myself and my children.
My marriage has failed but I am not a failure and I have a future.
This has been so therapeutic! Thank you SI.
[This message edited by ohforanewme at 4:47 AM, June 20th (Tuesday)]