Journal Entry: March 27, 2014

“Thank goodness we can’t tell the future. We’d never get out of bed.” Julia Roberts as Barbara Weston in August: Osage County.

We are on our way to Miami. Our 15-night Panama Canal cruise leaves port Sunday. So here I go on another trigger filled holiday with my cheating, sex-addict hubby of nearly 25 years. Happy fucking 50th birthday, asshole.

After watching August: Osage County on the plane, all I could think was, WHOA, that was some fucked up shit.

But then I thought, was it any worse than my husband’s family, his upbringing, the nurturing of multiple addictive personalities, suicide, and the pain and anguish I am going through right now due to his lies and betrayal? And then I thought, can I do this? Can I really do this? Can I wake up for the next 30 years and be happy with my life? I’m just not sure. We have to make tough choices and be in control of our own lives. Am I being honest with myself? What should I do? According to the books, and the therapists, I’m not supposed to make any major decisions right now… but what will be left of me by the time I am ready to make major decisions? Will I even have a sane thought at that point?

I am not actually getting past these feelings of hurt and betrayal, I’m trying to ignore them and it’s not working. It hurts that he has no empathy and often does not feel connected to his feelings and therefore cannot feel connected to my feelings. When he answers questions, he shows no remorse. He is still blaming his parents, his past, his upbringing, and not taking responsibility. His words don’t feel genuine. As I realize I am not going to get any closure with the horrifying alcoholic hoarder whore, the nightmares are mounting. How long can I go on like this. Do I want to go on like this.

Planes are still so painful. Sitting there next to him reminds me of all the trips, all the lies, all the betrayal, and all the horrible things he has done. Airports are torture. It wasn’t one trip they were on together, it was many. Many airports all over the world. Did he ask if he could carry her bag for her? It’s more than I can bear to think of them walking through Narita airport, catching the train into Tokyo. Them, checking into a hotel I booked for my husband. The right to travel with him as a partner (physically, sexually, and emotionally) was mine alone and he gave it away to another woman. He just had to go on those trips, for “business.” He manipulated me, coerced, and lied so that no one else from our family or our company would be on those trips. I can’t take it.

My heart feels like it will split in two. I still think about leaving because I know the pain would be less and I fear I am not strong enough to continue bearing this level of pain. Will I EVER be able to be in an airport or on an airplane with him again without feeling this pain. I fear the answer is not until he is in recovery for a long time, and perhaps not even then. I am not going to be able to make it that long.

I lost it towards the end of the first leg of our flight. The images cycled, the pain built, and the tears flowed. He did not notice. I fear this is my future and I won’t survive it. I want to run away. I don’t want to come back to this life. I want to be free from the pain. I have always known he had a selfish and insensitive side, I just didn’t realize it was so much more powerful than his sensitive, caring, loving side. I want a new life. I want a do over. I should be able to have a do over. I didn’t do anything wrong. Why do I have to suffer so much. Why am I paying this price. I am not a pretender. I will not pretend like everything is okay.

I want nothing more than a break from him and this life, and yet, I am headed with him on a vacation where we will be sequestered in a small room on a big ship in the middle of the ocean.

Boy, what a stupid idea.