After an affair, your life doesn't belong to you anymore. For over a year, I couldn't control my own thoughts.
The turmoil in my head was viciously repetitive but savagely random. With this blog, I began to exorcise the demons holding my head hostage.

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Manic Meltdown Part 1

While telling my story of lunacy after discovering Richard's infidelity, there are only a few instances that I will be able to provide you with the exact timeline, the precise date.  This post is a case in point.

The events of the day I'm about to relate were arguably me at my most imbalanced.
Oh, Holy Understatement, Batman...make that totally mental, psycho and destructive.  I know what day I flipped out,  Friday, January 28th, 108 days since DDay.  I know what time I lost my mind, very close to 10:00 am.  I also know where I took complete leave of my common sense.  The worst possible place.  Richard's office with all of his employees there to witness.  What I can't share with any certainty is WHY!  I have little recollection of what tripped my crazy trigger.  

As it was Friday, Richard and I had planned a date night.  We both had to work that day but we were able to go in a little later so we could share the ride and thus, only have one car to drive home.  Richard drove his car, the black Lexus that Jaymie had been in much more than I cared to imagine.  The plan was I would drop Richard off at his office and then head to my store to begin my work day.  I would pick him up later that afternoon and our date would commence.

Somewhere along the drive down the 15S to the 163S my madness boiled over.  It was like molten lava oozing up from the belly of the beast.  An eruption was imminent, but the timing and the force unpredictable.  I know the conversation in the car turned the switch on my composure from simmer to rapid boil, but for the life of me, I don't understand why then, what was so infuriating about that morning?  His words pushed me over the edge of self-control and yet, I can't recall many of them.

I hope I'm not making this part up.  I sort of/kind of remember talking about how it made me very sad that I couldn't go up to his office anymore.  Michelle had no interest in seeing me or even speaking with me.  I had ripped her a big, fat new one after I learned she had knowledge of Richard & Jaymie's affair and did little to put a stop to it.  (Yeah, yeah!  I know.  Not her job.  But, it made my life a tad easier to spread the blame around.)  Plus, I knew his whole staff saw it.  They all had front row seats to my husband's seduction of his baby whore.  You can surely imagine why I chose to avoid their pitying glances and whispered gossip.  Richard agreed it would be uncomfortable, but he hoped in the not too distant future, we would get back to normal.  To me, that meant, you can't go up to my office right now, which meant I was FOR SURE going up to his office right now.

Here is where the story becomes crystal clear.  With my adrenaline level off the charts,  I announced something like, "I'm going up to your office now.  I haven't seen Michelle for a while. It's time we talked."  Richard didn't think that was such a great plan.  Even though I can't be sure, I'd bet the ranch he slipped into panic mode after I declared my intent.  He protested the idea with numerous lame ass excuses, so when we were nearing his office, by Balboa Park, stopped at a light, I jumped out of the car and the meltdown was on!

I hit that sidewalk like a soldier charging into battle.  Lit a cigarette and I stormed..that's right...I STORMED 3 blocks toward his 3rd floor office.  Richard must have hauled ass to his parking spot, because he managed to catch up with me at the elevator.  He pleaded for me to be calm.  His last line of defense against this office invasion was trying to convince me that he understood my anger and he was so, so sorry.  SORRY!  I was soooo OVER that word!

Out of the elevator and straight into family law central.  Jaw and fists clenched as I rushed past the front desk, Richard right behind.  I caught a glimpse of the receptionist's face.  Obviously, she knew something was up but had yet to fathom what the issue could be.  She would grasp it all very shortly.  I was in no mood for subtleties.

As I headed for Richard's private work/Jaymie Love domain, at the end of the hall, I flew by Michelle's office and lucky for her, the door was closed which meant she was with a client.  I must have been graced by Divine Intervention because I managed a minuscule amount of restraint that prevented me from barging right on in, client be damned.

Not that the client wouldn't get an ear-full anyway.  Richard's office is just past Michelle's.  They share a common wall and as soon as I crossed the threshold into the space that had witnessed Richard and Jaymie together naked, my very loud tirade began.  Almost an out-of-body experience.  A meltdown of epic proportions that everyone in the office could hear.  Hell, probably everybody on the 3rd floor heard it and I could have cared less.

Thursday, November 15, 2012

All Aboard!! Leaving Now for Crazy Town!

This is where it's gonna get uncomfortable for me.  From here on in, this story won't be about Richard's repugnant behavior.  It's gonna be a confessional, of sorts.  This is the pivotal point in my story that I'm sure will alienate many of my readers.
For the record, I will miss you.

A HUGE disclaimer is required here: Please don't do what I did!!  Please let the bitch-whore go!  My behavior made everything worse.  Not once did I feel better while touring Crazy Town.

Many days of 2011 brought me right to the edge of Crazy Town.  I mean, RIGHT to the edge, with my toe dipped in the icy water of the massive moat that surrounds Crazy Town.  Some days I dove right in and swam, full speed, like Michael Phelps, across the muddy moat with complete disregard of the potentially disastrous consequences waiting on the other side.

I am very grateful that I was only a frequent visitor in Crazy Town and although I got to know the local turf pretty well, I never became a permanent resident.  I must thank Dr. N with his magical bag of pharmaceuticals that calmed the rapid firing defective neurons in my brain and the lovely Dr. K for the hours she spent in a most sincere effort to shove a much needed reality check down my throat.

My level of crazy fluctuated from day to day.  Sometimes there was a trigger that propelled me deeper into the danger zone, but often I just woke up from a fitful sleep feeling nutso.
I beg a bit of compassion here.  Please remember, when I acted out, when I did some of the things I'm going to confess, I didn't think I was out of line at all.  Mostly, I was just so angry!  In a few fleeting moments when anguish replaced anger, I realized my behavior was not normal and often over the top, but that didn't mean I had the self control to throw on the brakes.

January 27th, 2011, was one of the mornings I woke up on the wrong side of sane.  I had already sent an email to Jaymie offering to trade the rest of the cash she had agreed to return to me for the ALL of the emails she shared with Richard.  She did not respond to my offer.  Being ignored was a HUGE trigger!  I sent this to Jaymie & her Daddy.

I would appreciate a response regarding my offer.  I want the emails or the money ASAP.   If you can afford to send the entire $400 in one check, we can avoid these emails in the future. If there are financial issues, let me know.  I'm sure we can work something out as I still want the emails.  A final note for Jaymie:  I am not at all surprised that you are having your father deal with the consequences of your poor choices.  Obviously, you are still too immature to handle such adult matters on your own.  You have a very tolerant father.  When our children reach your age, they will be responsible for cleaning up their own messes.  Jim:  If the check isn't at my store tomorrow, I will email you again.
That got James in a snit!  I'm not sure which lit the bonfires of Crazy Town more...being ignored or being challenged like I was when I got this:

Please do not commentate on my family… you have enough troubles of your own.
Had it not been for a predatory person like your husband – this conversation will never take place.  You also have a strong personality (one that I am not afraid or intimidated of) – you can take your anger, bitterness, and attention elsewhere.
Go heal your own home and leave my family alone.
I will not respond to any of your conversations anymore. This is done. 

Jim had no way of knowing he was throwing fuel on the bonfire!  I shot back:

You don't get to dictate to me, but I understand your frustration.  Until I find complete closure, Richard AND Jaymie will deal with me.
They both owe me the opportunity to understand what happened and why.  
I am tending to my own issues, but you seem to forget your daughter's hand in the affair.  Choices were made.
Jaymie needs to own those choices.  You referred to Richard as a "predatory person".'s not like Jaymie is 12, for God's sake.
Far be it from me to defend him, but get a grip on reality.  Your daughter is no saint in this.

James didn't respond.  It seems he was a quick study and he learned right off that engaging me meant enraging me.  I was very angry as I typed my last response to him.  That anger simmered over the bonfire all day and night.  The next day, it boiled over big time.  I paraded my ass down the Main Street of Crazy Town on a huge, freakin' float!!  The parade ended in Richard's office.

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

Personal Revelations

From the beginning, when I first unraveled the mystery of how to blog last December, the main purpose of putting my fingertips to this keyboard was to encourage healing through purging, a feeble last resort to regain my sanity and happiness.  No one is more surprised than I that it appears to be working for me.  So far, it has taken me over eleven months to tell you about my life during the first three months after DDay.

Some of you may think I have been less than expedient with the total tale.  Richard has said, more than once, that the blog is becoming repetitive.  I can see that perspective, but I ain't writing this damn story for him.  I write BECAUSE of him, so he can kiss my blogging bootie.

As I search my memory for the emotions, the incidents, the confrontations, the actions, the reactions and the conversations, as I give my best effort to relate each specific component from my first year as a betrayed wife, there is almost always a personal epiphany hidden between the lines.  By the time I hit the "publish" button, I will have learned something about myself.  The revelations aren't always flattering, but they are all educational and valuable.  I am able to glean small tidbits from each post that are beginning to resemble a banquet of understanding and healing.  I'm not into meditation.  I don't seek enlightenment through religion.  Therapy always felt like a punishment.
So, I blog.

Example #1:  I've learned a substantial amount about transference.  I sent a dozen emails to Jaymie trying to get her to face me under the pretense of seeking answers that would help me heal, when what I really and truly wanted to do was squeeze Richard's nuts until they burst like ripe grapes.
That's a lesson learned!  Misdirected anger is nothing but a huge waste of energy, energy that comes at a premium when you find yourself severely depressed and possibly in shock.

Example #2:  When confronted, cheaters only confess to the bare minimum.  Trickle Truth is the norm, not the exception to the rule, and intuition is a God given self-preservation tool...utilize it!  Had I been privy to this fascinating fact, I would have saved myself additional layers of despair.  I would have girded my loins for the gradual influx of garbage that would continue to spill from Richard lying lips for weeks after DDay.

Example #3:  This one would have been a major game changer for me, and ties in with example numero dos.  The initial discovery of a cheating spouse deserves serious contemplation.  You will surely wonder how concentration of any kind can be achieved when your entire world is disintegrating.  This example of personal revelation might be intended only for those of superhuman emotional control.  As we know, that would NOT have included me, so for me it's merely a pie-in-the-sky wish, not really something I learned.  I wish I could have managed to breathe deep and pause to consider what options I had available.  There were a plethora of choices to be made.  I didn't think anything through.  Many missteps followed my visceral outbursts.  If only a calmer head had I said, it's a pipe dream.

So, contrary to what my critics believe, I don't blog seeking attention, I don't pour my guts into cyberspace for some sort of warped self-gratification.  This blog does not exist as a virtual wood shed to continue flogging  Richard for his behavior, I can do that quite nicely right here at home verbally, live and in person.
I blog to facilitate useful introspection needed to find my road back to happy.  These pages contain the narrative of my past as well as the map guiding me to my future.

If you have been joining me on this journey of personal revelation, you know sappy diatribe ain't my thing, so let me end with this, I hope with all of my broken but consistently mending heart that through this blog I am able to reach out to others that find themselves walking in the dark valley of infidelity.
Other betrayed spouses helped save me and I am all about payback.
The rest of my story will attest to that.