SurvivingInfidelity.com^®

Well, that's the shits, Unhinged. What that reads like to me, Unhinged, is that she didn't watch the game with you but she did with someone. She wants to know what happened to the Blues? She knew about the game.

Yes, we do things that aren't on the top of our priority list for our spouses to strengthen the relationship. I don't particularly care for dinner theatre. I went because WW liked them. I could enjoy the time with them and, generally, good food and drink. Turns out that's tainted, too, because of her and her AP. I went to different garden parks with her because she liked them and I got to spend time with her. Okay, now I'm venting.

As sisoon wrote

The examples are trivial. The meaning/implications aren't

I missed a whole year of Hockey Night in Canada so she could watch CHIPS which I watched with her.

I'm on my second beer this evening. Grimbergen Double Amber. Better than Grimbergen Blonde which was the first.

Blues tonight, Unhinged, and in 7.

The examples are trivial. The meaning/implications aren't.

I agree with the second part. The Blues being in the finals for the first time in 49 years is hardly trivial, brother sisoon! Oh no! We're way beyond trivial, sir! This is history! This is Lord Stanley's Cup we're talking about here.

This is the end all be all of the very meaning of existence and the Universe itself!

Let's go Blues!

Unhinged,

I grew up in South County. Like you, the Cards and the Blues are in my blood. I still have my Bernie Federko Blues Note jersey from maybe 1980.

Sorry that your wife decided to go off getting drunk with the neighbors and not watch the game with you Saturday.

Hope last night was better for you all, not just in the AWESOME game they played.

(Seriously, do you ever remember a Blues team that forechecks and controls the puck like this one?? Holy Shit. I am in heaven...)

Oh, man! My son's first sentence came while watching Hockey Night in Canada!

1973, Bruins/Canadiens, son sitting on my lap, we're watching on a 13" black & white TV - Esposito on a breakaway - 'Go, Espo, Go,' I shouted.

Son looked at me, then at the TV, and he said, 'Go, Po, go!'

Espo was a Bruin at the time.

Bernie Federko Blues Note jersey from maybe 1980.

Now that's just fucking awesome! I've still got my Demitra jersey (and one from Kenan's day with stupid red sash). I've also got a t-shirt or two and a sweater. Yep! I bleed blue.

I remember Phil Esposito. I also remember his brother tending goal for the Blackhks .

When my wife left the house the other night I just thought "wow, seriously?" I wasn't exactly disappointed. I've learned my lessons with expectations. It's just that I'd like to be in a marriage in which my wife is eager to share such an incredible time for me. Now I'm second-guessing myself, which truly sucks!

[This message edited by Unhinged at 9:57 PM, June 4th (Tuesday)]

I carried Bobby Orr's autograph with me in my wallet for a couple of decades. Alas, it did not survive a stint in a washing machine.

Before Orr, it seemed as if the Bruins won on Saturday nights. No other nights, but I always counted on a win on Saturdays. The Bruins never made the playoffs in those years.

Isn't anyone besides me unhappy with hockey in June? It's a game that's played on frozen ponds (among other places), and the artificial pond that my city sets up across the street from my apartment hardly froze all last winter, much less in June....

I guess the owners and players have to satisfy the demand for games, but I don't like hockey in June.

June is for biking. Great ride today. Man, it's only the 3rd day this Spring with temps above 70 and sun around here.

(signed) sisoon, wearing his curmudgeon hat

Isn't anyone besides me unhappy with hockey in June?

Sports seasons are absurdly long. 162 games of baseball and another 15 minimum to the Series. Hockey and B-Ball are the same; 82 games and 16 min to win the Cup. (football players are a bunch of slackers ) Seasons have gotten longer all around, I think, because it makes money for people (owners, players, concessions, catering, restaurant and bar owners, parking lot attendants, and so on and so forth).

Bobby Orr? Seriously, sis? Don't you think I've heard enough about Bobby Orr's diving brilliance lately? Jezz!

Sorry dudes, I've always hated all sports 🤷‍♂️

My brother is a diehard Yankees fan that still spends his time screaming at the TV with veins popping out of his neck... might have something to do with it.

That said, I do know how you feel since I've always forced myself to watch rom-com's with her - until DDay 1.

I'm about to have my first proper drink in probably about 2 months, soooo you might see me here a LOT tonight.

Bro-hugs for all!

It’s been a while since I’ve seen a good drunken Menz thread rant. Godspeed, SD.

Lol Loukas!

Just had a triple shot of Oban 14 on 2 cubes.

Single malt makes me mellow, it ain't exactly tequila or vodka made in someone's hairy bathtub - I speak from experience back in my late teens

That said, I guess the rant I have is this...

I'm a man. We're wired to either be Alpha or Beta.

My entire childhood, I was bullied. By kids my age, older AND younger. I was the short fat annoying ADD kid that, honestly, probably deserved a good beatdown every now and then... but nowhere nearly to the extreme point(s) that were commonplace for me.

When I was in 11th grade (if you want to call it that), I became big. I mean muscle-big. The 200lb 4'6 beachball all of a sudden became a 5'5 175lb concrete slab over 4 months. All of a sudden, I became the bully. Fast-forward a few years and battle-scars, and I mellowed. I learned to control my anger. I learned to be a good person and socially adept in any and all instances.

Until DDay 1, that is...

You know what the discovery of her cheating did?

It turned me back into that little fat bullied motherfucker.

It turned me into the scared little pussy that I was for half my life.

It shrunk my balls back down to the size of sesame seeds.

It humiliated me.

SHE humiliated me.

And now that it's after DDay 2 (and technically 3, depending on perspective), I'm so fucking terrified that I'm gonna become that bully once more. I'm getting in better shape again... the anger has been kicking in on&off.

I do sleep now, but I now have nightmares every night about her A's and ones that my dream-master likes to create for it's own satiafaction.

I'm so fucking afraid that I'm going to turn back into the souchebag that I was.

AND I BLAME HER AND HER UNCARING CHOICES. She FUCKED another MARRIED man while we were dating AND engaged!

She had to get PLAN FUCKIN' B since he tried knocking her up (he had laughed off the "accidental creampie" TWO MONTHS before our fucking wedding!

The one thing I love about hockey is the rink-fighting... I'm so terrified of becoming one once more after I worked for so long and so hard to become a decent human being.

And I blame her inconsiderate, selfish, greedy & lustful actions. Her choices.

GRRRRR ARGH I AM SPARTA!!!!!

Saddest Dad, after my wife told me she fucked that dude I drank so much I am surprised I still have a liver. My mental health was fucked up too. I got fired from my job. It was a shitshow. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep. Was crying every day like a little bitch. Hardly bathed and wore the same clothes for days.

I became a shell of myself. I was half-dead. I fantasized about killing the asshole. When I was drunk, I entertained thoughts of just ending it all. Taking myself out. And taking her and my son with me so they wouldn’t be left behind. It was really fucked up.

I had to go get some help. No matter how strong someone is this type of shit can bring you to a breaking point. I wasn’t getting better and I needed someone from the outside to help me see that. My brother in law came to talk to me man to man and told me I was fucking up. That he was worried about me and that I wasn’t in a good place. I got some psychological help and I got on meds. And I stopped getting drunk all the fucking time.

It hurts like shit. You’re normal in that way. But you need more help than she can give you. She can’t fix you when she’s the one who broke you. Whether she gets her head out of her ass or not, whether she’s sorry or not, you owe it to yourself to get some help, man. You owe it to your kids. This shit isn’t self-limiting. It can and does get worse. It’s not a sign of weakness to need and seek help. It’s a sign of strength.

Praying for you, brother.

Just had a triple shot of Oban 14 on 2 cubes.

Mana from heaven, brother! Be careful about drinking too much, however, it will only delay your healing.

I'm a man. We're wired to either be Alpha or Beta.

People make way too much of this shit and generally adopt misconceptions, particularly about themselves. Don't buy into the hype, SaddestDad. Most people have no fucking clue what makes an "alpha" male.

You know what the discovery of her cheating did?

It turned me back into that little fat bullied motherfucker.

It turned me into the scared little pussy that I was for half my life.

It shrunk my balls back down to the size of sesame seeds.

I can't remember who it was, but one of our Menz recently wrote that infidelity "hit me in my DNA." It's never ceased to amaze me just how deeply, how profoundly, how fucking hard... it all hits. I understand how you feel, brother. I've been there and done that and I don't ever want to go back down into the depths of that rabbit hole ever again.

Now, here's the really fucked-up part. Your brain is trying to find a way to cope with the trauma by examining how you've coped with trauma in the past. The betrayal of infidelity is, for most people, a severe emotional and psychological trauma. Not eating, not sleeping, extreme weight lost (30lbs for me in about two months), the reliance upon our usual coping mechanisms that just don't seem to be up to snuff, are all just par for the course. PTSD is common.

So, what you're going through is pretty normal.

Now, what are going to do about it? How are you going to pick yourself up off the floor, dust yourself off, and stand on your own two feet?

If you feel the need to seek out professional help then, by all means, do it. My wife put me in therapy, brother, because I could not control the rage. My wife sent me to SI, because I couldn't cope. My wife gave me a reason to read self-help books (Linda MacDonald & Janis Spring, in particular). I'd done none of these things before. I'd never sought out therapy. I'd never sought out a support group. I'd never read self-help books. I'd never...

So, you're going to have to learn some new coping strategies and, along the way, you're going to have to resolve some old traumas triggered by this one.

Focus you on, SaddestDad, your recovery and healing. I know it's hard. Surviving infidelity has been the most painful and difficult time of my life. I'm just over four years out and I'm still healing, still working through some shit, still learning.

Focus on you. Drink lots of water. Avoid substance abuse. Force yourself to eat small, healthy meals. Get some exercise. If you can't sleep, try some mild OTC sleep aids. Seek out a therapist if you feel the need. Personally, it was well worth the time and money (and I only went a few times).

Focus on you, your recovery and healing.

[This message edited by Unhinged at 12:32 PM, June 6th (Thursday)]

You know what the discovery of her cheating did?

It turned me back into that little fat bullied motherfucker.

It turned me into the scared little pussy that I was for half my life.

It shrunk my balls back down to the size of sesame seeds.

If you think about it a bit, I think you'll see that d-day didn't turn you into those things. Rather, d-day triggered thoughts, fears, and messaging that you had become those things.

IMO, healing from being betrayed is a process of changing self-talk from attacking oneself to nurturing oneself.

I know the sense of humiliation and emasculation, but you know what? I was naked when my W confessed. If I had looked down, I would have seen I was still whole, and by the end of the day, I knew I was still functional. You're probably still whole, too.

The best way out of the (false) sense of humiliation and being unsexed is self-talk. You can do that even if you don;t want to see - much less touch, much less have sex with - your WS.

I'm concerned that you are having trouble getting out of bed. That's a symptom of depression, and some anti-depressive assistance might not be a bad idea. Welbutrin supposedly has no negative sexual side effects but needs a 'script. St. John's Wort has negative sexual side effects but is available at any health food store.

If you're ADD, changing self-talk is especially difficult. Are you being treated? If not ... IDK ... go to the library and get something written by Ed Hallowell, maybe Driven to Distraction or Thom Hartmann, ADD: A Different Perception. If you've got those books already, I apologize ... but it may be time to reread them.

People make way too much of this shit and generally adopt misconceptions, particularly about themselves. Don't buy into the hype, SaddestDad. Most people have no fucking clue what makes an "alpha" male.

A-MEN

Preach brother, preach.

Sisoon laid out a lot of good stuff (as usual). Really read it.

I'm just going to echo what he said about this triggering your fears. Infidelity is probably the greatest mind-fuck to lay on someone. Everyone (and I mean everyone) I've talked to (here and IRL), said their world went into a tailspin and they didn't know who they were anymore.

I can say for certain that that was my case - I just lost who I was. It takes some effort and time to refind yourself.

If you think you will have the anger issues come back, maybe find a way to channel it in a controlled manner - take up boxing, ju jitsu, MMA, long distance endurance races - anything to expend that energy away from hate.

The other thing about you "turning back into the douchebag you were" -

That was the teenage you, trying to figure out life and how to be an honorable man. You know what is right and wrong now - it's up to you to not become that guy. And the simple fact that you are worried about it tells me that you won't.

Tomorrow's going to be atrocious.

Yay!

FML.

What happens tomorrow (sorry if I missed it)?

Unhinged - I am not sure what happened with SaddestDad, but tomorrow (June 12) is the day of reckoning. 8pm. I am already on edge. I will probably puke my guts out before the game.

Lets Go Blues

Lets Go Blues

If they win, my fww has promised a special performance of "Gloria" for me :)

What happens tomorrow (sorry if I missed it)?

June 8th was 5 year anniversary of my proposal to her.

June 8th was 5 year anniversary of my proposal to her.

I get it. I once told my FWW that d-day had more significance to me than our anniversary. I allowed her to show me what our anniversary meant to her that first year (our 10th was just a few months after d-day). The next two years I completely skipped our anniversary. I didn't even acknowledge the day. It comes with the territory, brother.

reallyscrewedup7, I sure hope that offer still applies tomorrow night.

Let's Go Blues!