Journal Entry: March 1, 2014.
Last night and today have been rough. Before everything came out, before D-Day, he had made plans with an old high school friend and her husband. They were going to be in town and wanted to know if we wanted to go to a Jazz Concert with them. We planned to have dinner before the concert. They would stay through the weekend. We would spend some time on Saturday with them and another dinner was planned. At the time it sounded alright. Our life is always so busy, that I usually prefer to spend my weekends simply and quietly and I am not generally looking for new friendships. In my current state of trying to deal with my broken life, two days was completely unreasonable.
Acting like a normal person is destroying me.
I got through Saturday dinner and as we walked in the door late Saturday night, I lost it. All the strength I had gathered to hold it together for two days, to socialize with people I had never met, to pretend like I had a normal marriage, had taken its toll. There was just plainly nothing left. I cried uncontrollably. I cried for an hour straight. I cried myself to sleep with haunting thoughts of how my life is a lie, my marriage is a joke. I woke up feeling alone. Today I have vacillated between trance and depression. Unwanted visions overwhelm my thoughts, hourly. I long for the day when I can get through a four hour block of time without thoughts of my husband’s indiscretions.
I hate pretending like my life is normal, or even good. It will break me.