Journal Entry: Valentine’s Day, 2014
I now hate Valentine’s day. While we were in Hawaii, I was obsessing about the acting out partner and why anyone would want such a dysfunctional, vacuous relationship. I went on and on about how she never got to spend any real time with him, how could she possibly think that what they had was real. That he never spent her birthday with her, or any important holiday, and then I looked at him, I mean REALLY LOOKED AT HIM, and had another one of those sick in my gut kind of feelings. And that is when I realized… they had spent Valentine’s Day together, in 2010. How had I not noticed it before. How did I miss it. With all the time spent obsessively going through his work calendar, I cannot believe I had missed it. In late January, 2010, my husband had been hospitalized for an intestinal issue (the bane of his existence, well, one of them anyway) and he was hours away from surgery. He was so distraught and depressed and swore he was not going to have surgery. He had a trip to Asia planned in a couple weeks. A very LONG trip to Asia that absolutely could NOT be changed. Due to client constraints (or so I thought because that was what I was told by my liar of a husband) he needed to go to two countries and it would need to encompass a weekend to make it happen and that weekend happened to include Valentine’s Day. I begged him to change things around, but he said there was no way around it. He was sorry and we would celebrate on a different day. When work beckons, I just have to fall in line. As it turns out, the Valentine’s Day weekend was not dictated by client demands, but by the demands of my husband’s manipulative acting out partner. My husband was in the throes of his worst acting out period during 2009 and early 2010. He went on four trips with her during this time, it would entail the most time he spent with her during their eight year relationship. The more he called her to go on trips with him, the more she demanded from him. He called her to ask her to go with him on this February Asia trip and she said she would only go if he spent Valentine’s Day with her. For him, spending Valentine’s Day with her meant nothing, it was just another sex trip and he had business in Asia anyway, but for her, I guess it must have meant something. This was the longest trip they went on together… 11 days. It started in Korea and ended in Tokyo. Valentine’s Day was spent in Tokyo, but it was fraught with discord as all of their trips were. She is a mean, manipulative bitch. The thing about my husband’s pattern is, it goes something like this. Call the acting out partner about going on a trip with him. Fantasize about said trip and sext with her obsessively about trip. Go on trip and have crazy, fantasy driven sex on the first night. Feel remorse and shame and want her to disappear. She feels his disgust and gets angry and abusive. She leaves hotel room and goes off on her own (probably to a bar). She eventually returns, there is more distance between them, then finally when he is feeling like sex again, he makes up with her. Then the pattern repeats. As they near the end of the trip, she becomes angry with him because he refuses to give her more and by the time they head to the airport, she refuses to sit near him and is abusive and mean to him at the airport before he exits from her and into my waiting arms. Gee, how I missed him. Apparently, the day before Valentine’s Day my husband was missing me and decided to write me a card. She noticed what he was doing and became violently angry. She eventually left the room and did not return until the next day… Valentine’s Day. They made up and spent the day together. Well, fuck me. These kinds of stories piss me off every time because I just do not get it. It is impossible for me to understand any of the behavior these two supposed adults are exhibiting. I want to scream and run away.
So much time has passed and so much has been revealed, and yet, I feel as bad as ever. When will the pain subside, if even just a little. I feel more betrayed than ever. Every day I learn something that breaks my heart all over again. Every day is torture. Every trip he took with her is a dagger to my heart. Every moment spent with her makes me sick to my stomach. I realize there is no good answer for any of my questions. There is no way of making sense of this mess. He so casually remarks that it was just about the sex. He wanted the sex. Every time he says this I wonder if he truly understands the pain he causes. He cannot possibly understand or he wouldn’t say it over and over and over again. The marital relationship we had was sacred to me. The joy, the pleasure, the closeness, the conversations we had while lying naked next to each other. I cherished it. Now I know he shared the same actions and feelings with another woman. It is more than I can bear. I want out.
I have tried to figure out why these women would want to have sex with a married man. It is futile. We live in a world full of people that are willing, able, and happy to take things that belong to others. The 2nd acting out partner, the “secretary” apparently never even asked about me or the kids. She just agreed to sex in the office with my husband and gave not a thought or care to why he was doing it. Do these women truly believe they are giving these men something they cannot or do not get at home. Or do they even think, or care. I cannot imagine living in a world where I slept with someone else’s husband and enjoyed it. And using the sweet euphemism of “sleeping together” is a joke in the case of the secretary. They had sex right in the office, during the workday, over and over. There was actually no bed or sleeping involved. She was single and she wanted a relationship. When she started hinting at a relationship, he ended it. She is now married. Would she find it acceptable if her husband slept with his secretary over and over in his office. Would she like it if he lied to his mistress and told her that he wasn’t “getting any” at home. Maybe I should track her down and ask her. There is no sense to be made here.
And what about the 3rd acting out partner, the old hoarding abusive alcoholic bitch? The first time they had sex she thought he was single? I do not believe this. Did she even ask or did she just assume he was single and available. Did she think to Google him? He gave her his real name from day one. He is all over the fucking web. She found out right away that he was married and she half heartedly tried to end it, but she didn’t. She came back for more for eight years. She blackmailed and threatened. His addiction is my torture. He invited her on trips while I stayed home and took care of his house, his family, his business. I have to believe that if he is in fact a sex addict, sex addicts are the most insensitive, selfish, abusive people on the planet.
So, speaking of this diagnosis of sex addict… what am I supposed to do with it? They say sex addiction is like any other addiction. That it is not about sex. It is about filling what is empty, missing, and broken in the person. That sex gives you the sense of control you seek. The problem with this and my husband is, in my opinion, his actions were not random or compulsive. He plotted and planned and he enjoyed himself thoroughly. He kept going back to the same woman for 8 years. He didn’t just have sex. He traveled with her and took her to places we had visited as a family. He talked with her extensively about her life. This was much, much more than a quickie, sexual relationship. He didn’t go to prostitutes or have hook ups. He nurtured a relationship with a woman for 8 years. As soon as I booked his travel, mainly International, he called her and gave her all the details so she could book her flights. He used me over and over and over again. He took her to places I had never been. How I am supposed to deal with this. Clearly I am having trouble with the sex addict diagnosis. With other addictions, I think it is quite obvious that the person is an addict. People figure out right away if there is alcohol or drugs involved, but sex? Unless they get caught, no one knows and they get very good at not getting caught. My husband has been cheating for 15 years. Is it time for me to go? If I do not go, am I one of “those” women who stay with an abusive husband for years, knowing they are going to get beat time and time again. Don’t wife beaters also have some ailment that should be addressed so they can get better. Is everyone supposed to stay and help the sick one. I feel stupid, ignorant, used and worthless and I want to walk away.
If I don’t walk away, will he get better? He actually seems like the exact same person he was before. This scares me. I did not know there was anything wrong. I mean, of course, I knew he was fucked up by his childhood, but come on, he’s 50 fucking years old. At what point does a person still get to keep blaming his parents all the while destroying the lives of others? How self indulgent. How much of addiction is controllable. I realize each person is different, but generally speaking, are we just supposed to let it all slide while they are finding themselves? Am I supposed to sit here and be destroyed over and over again while he is figuring it all out? I want to be able to handle this. I want to feel better, to actually feel happy again, but I cannot seem to. I poured 30 years of my life into this relationship. I have loved him unconditionally for 30 years. I have taken abuse from his family and still loved him. After all, he is not his parents… or is he? He is certainly a product of his parents abuse and in turn, he has abused and the cycle continues. I know I have a bad attitude. Throughout my life I made conscious decisions to be a good person. I took responsibility for myself and my life. I feel completely screwed over. Everything I was, is gone. I no longer feel good about the good person I was. I got 3 thank you notes last week from people appreciating me and my generous and thoughtful nature. Thanking me for helping them and being a good person. I feel like a hypocrite. I could not help the person I care most about because he never let me in. He chose to confide in other women. He chose to neglect and betray me. I am a failure.
3 thoughts on “A downward spiral into my abyss”
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You are not a failure he is. He can’t keep blaming his parents he made the choices he made not you, not his parents. I grew up in an extremely violent family but it made me want to be different. I refuse to be defined by my past. Like you, I have devoted over 30 years to my husband. He had a cherished childhood and wonderful parents but he still cheated. I am only glad that the experience hasn’t changed me despite being tortured by the other woman. I am proud of who I am and so should you be. You, like me, are obviously a very kind and forgiving person. Please don’t change. I wonder with each new revelation, will the pain ever go away? All we can do process it, try to come to terms with it and move on until we have to endure the next heartache. There is light at the end of the tunnel it’s just tge tunnel is a little longer than we thought. Be strong you can do it. When we made the decision to stay we knew it was never going to be easy but we will get there. Hugs xx
Sometimes I do not recognize myself. It makes me sick that he has been cheating for 15 years and I did not see it. I am a trusting person who believes in the good in people and this attitude has definitely left me blindsided by my husband. I know you are correct, but my self esteem and self worth have taken some serious hits in the past 9 months. I know nothing will heal these wounds, but I am hoping time and the support of others will help lessen the pain. When I started this blog, I went back to the beginning, to the journal entries I started on D-Day. In the blog I am barely into March… obviously in real life I am in October (with everyone else) :). I hope to catch up soon. Thanks so much for supporting me. I have been reading your blog as well. The betrayal by our spouses is so devastating, why do these women have to try and destroy us as well. I am glad you have found your strength… never lose it! *hugs* right back.
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