What would you like first? Well, I have chosen to go with the bad first. The good will come next. I always choose bad news first, when given a choice.
We returned last night from our five day anniversary trip to Victoria, British Columbia. On the trip, a couple of things were obvious. First, I am far from my old self. Second, I am very far from being healed. Last year’s anniversary, our 25th, was actually less intense than this year, but I think that was because I was still numb, we were both still medicating with hysterical bonding. I had daily visions, daymares, of Blue Eyes with his acting out partner, at her house, and all over the world, and I had very intense PTSD moments, but my life was literally all about the betrayal back then. I wasn’t focused as much on what I had lost overall. I was focused on the trauma of the moment. Now that things are starting to return to normal, Blue Eyes’ work schedule, our love life, the reality of what has transpired in our marriage, the thought of “celebrating” our marriage is taxing. The enormity of the betrayal has truly set in and is magnified by the thought of everything I lost in a matter of minutes a year and a half ago. Celebrating 26 years didn’t seem right. Although I enjoyed a number of treats, I was happy when the day was over. The fact that I made it through without collapsing, was a win.
I was never terribly carefree. I have always liked a schedule, a plan. I do not like to wander the streets of strange cities aimlessly looking for new adventures. Unlike my older son, I do not think meandering around Rome in 90 degree weather for two hours trying to find a restaurant is exciting. For the past 31 years, I have planned everything involving our personal life, our family, our travels. I am 52 years old, and that is a lot of planning and organizing and doing. Everyone has reaped the benefits of my obsessive compulsive nature. I like order in my life, especially now that I deal with trauma and PTSD on a regular basis, I need people to behave consistently and with respect and love and honesty. Blue Eyes has never been carefree either, but what he has been is completely dependent on me when outside his business environment, and apparently his addiction environment. He never felt competent at planning or doing things for the family. I used to think he was very confident and competent at doing that for his career, his company, so I let him be. I did everything else. Now I know he used his addiction to cope with his insecurities regarding work, and apparently everything else. Well, I am tired now. I am beat down now. I need him to do the planning and organizing and taking care of me. He needs to prove to me that he can, and that he wants to. He needs to make sure I have a good time because it is important to him. Blue Eyes did a fine job of getting us to and from Victoria, but from there, nothing. There really wasn’t a plan. The old me is not back. I am not equipped anymore to be super wife and super mom. I had to abandon that responsibility in order to survive the past 19 months. It does not make me feel secure when Blue Eyes is unable to plan something for fear that he will fail, for fear that he will make a mistake or I will not like what he has planned. He doesn’t “get” that his going to the effort of doing the planning is huge. It is not so much what he plans, but that he has the confidence to do so. That is important to me now… and it actually always was I just didn’t realize how important.
In my next post, I will write about the good stuff we did. There were a lot of fun and happy moments. But in between, I am sad to say, I lost it. I fell into a deep hole and struggled to climb back out and Blue Eyes was not there, emotionally, to help me. He’s just not there in a consistent way yet.
I have probably mentioned before that I do internet searches regularly. I search our names, Blue Eyes’, mine, and our boys. I have always done it for Blue Eyes and our business. It is nice to know what is being written about you on the internet. I also found out about wonderful videos Sammy had made as he didn’t tell me about them, but he posted them to public video sites. I found a nice article about our older son published in his college newspaper. “Oh yeah, mom, sorry, I forgot to tell you about that.” Boys! It gives me a sense of security to know that I can see what others are looking at in terms of my family. I also google Camilla, Blue Eyes’ eight year intermittent acting out partner. I do this because I have been stalked by her, I have been followed, and I fear she will do or say something somewhere to hurt me or my family. She also took numerous photos of my husband, and had photos taken of the two of them together, a few times. My husband is an idiot. What a great way to keep your secret, secret… let your sex partner take pictures of the two of you together.
Since the beginning, d-day, I have never been able to find much on Camilla. I was under the impression she was an alcoholic recluse that didn’t have an internet presence, at least not a public one, but stalked innocent people herself, like she cyber stalked me. I now know she read my blog for years. I have already written about that. I know Blue Eyes is hoping one of these days I will find an obituary for her. So, this past Saturday while Blue Eyes was napping, I googled Camilla like I do every few months. I also used a new free search engine I found last month. Lo and behold, a Facebook link for her pops up. I have never been able to find any kind of social network site for her before other than what looked to be an old, deleted twitter account. This time it was clear that there was a Facebook account in her name and although her profile picture is a baby pic, I knew it was her from her place of employment and her high school (same as mine). The thing is, however, when I went into Facebook, it said she didn’t exist. Well, folks, I am wise now. You see, my sister in law (Blue Eyes’ sister) unfriended me on Facebook last month, and she also blocked me. I didn’t even know that was a thing. She is mad that we do not talk with her, that we do not respond to her abusive, controlling, manipulative, aggressive and belittling emails. She is pissed if I post a profile picture in which I am smiling. She hates to think that we are happy. It was very strange realizing someone has literally blocked you from seeing that they exist. Oh brother, childish and immature. So now I know, Camilla has done the same. How do I know this for sure and that she did not just delete this FB account? Well, I am silly and the reason for my WP name in the first place, CrazyKat, is a play on the fact that I have a Facebook set up for one of my cats… and I use “her” yahoo email for this WordPress account. When I go into Facebook as my cat (I know, I know, stay with me) there they are, my SIL and Camilla. Silly silly women. As if I am the aggressor or the stalker. Okay, my goodness ladies. What do you all have to hide. It creeps me out to think this horrible woman who justified having a sexual relationship with my husband actually typed my name into her computer, YUCK!!! There were no pictures of her that were public, but there were numerous posts on her Facebook that I could see, namely that baby picture post. One of her 149 friends actually commented that even back then her “beady little eyes were looking for mischief.” Yep, I agree, she does have creepy beady little eyes, and I believe I mentioned it when she stalked us on a plane. Anyway, the more I looked at her Facebook and all the memes talking about hearts being broken and being lied to, the sicker I became. You know who was really being lied to, bitch? ME.
Very long story short, looking at the Facebook page ruined my night. I could not get them, together, out of my head. Walking to dinner, Blue Eyes grabbed my hand and all I could think about was him holding her hand while walking to dinner somewhere in Japan or Sweden. He says he didn’t do this, but that doesn’t really matter, I picture it anyway, and he IS a liar. Just realizing this awful woman has a venue to share her horrible cheating lying stalking blackmailing life with other people, made me want to vomit. At the restaurant, I had a panic attack. Anxiety overwhelmed and I could feel my heart racing faster and faster. I had to get away, if only in my head. I had to shut it all down. I cried, I wanted to run, but I stayed, glued to my seat. When we returned to the hotel, I fell asleep and had a fitful night of bad dreams.
Yesterday, sitting at dinner in Seattle waiting for our train back home, I lost it with Blue Eyes. I became angry. I felt like he had abandoned me the day before. He had woken up when I found Camilla’s Facebook page. He swears he didn’t even know she had one. He had become annoyed with me for reading her page. He checked out. Most likely that is why my trauma escalated. Whenever he abandons me when I am trying to deal with the pain he caused, it sends me deeper and deeper in to the abyss. It happens less often now, thankfully, but his reaction is even less involved now. Obviously I know going to her Facebook page is destructive. I won’t be doing it again. Even if she was posting about Blue Eyes or pictures of them together… remember she is delusional, for all I know she believes they still are “together,” there is really nothing I can do about it. It’s not real. It means nothing to me.
In the end, on the train home last night, we had a difficult conversation about him abandoning me emotionally and how it is worse now, not better. In the reality of it all over a year and a half post d-day, I said, “when you emotionally disconnect from me, you are saying to me that you still want to protect yourself, your addiction, your feelings, your secrets, more than you want me to feel loved, safe, wanted, needed. You are saying you don’t want me to heal.” He didn’t say anything. He got up and went to the bathroom. When he returned, I could see that he had been crying. Even after me baring my soul to him, crying, on a stupid train, he chose to remove himself from my presence in order to be with his deepest emotions. It sucks. I will say, however, that I preferred him leaving and feeling emotion than him sitting there holding my hand saying how he knows it must be so painful for me, like a robot.
I think this trip was more difficult than most because it was centered around our wedding anniversary and, after all, the vows we made on that day were important to me, still are. It sucks to be reminded of how horribly he failed at keeping any of them.
Good news in the next post.