It has been just over a month since we have been broken up. I initiated the break up after more heartache and chaos. I have had many moments of loneliness, depression and fear that I will never find love again, or that if I do I will choose someone who will hurt me and cheat on me again. I have moments of weakness. I contact him still. I still have hope that someday we can have a happy faithful love like what I thought it was in the beginning. Just one week after the break up I let him convince me that he missed me and still cared. I went to his apartment and we were intimate. He had told me he had been with another person since we broke up. He made it out to seem like a one time thing. What I didn’t know was that he had been with two girls, and was seeing one of them. That night he spent the night with her. He completely quit talking to me. I was devastated that he had used me and led me to believe he still cared. I had thought that it, that I, meant something to him. After six years and a whole life planned together he had already replaced me with another girl. I’m guessing she has no idea about that incident with me, and probably not about the other girl he was with either days before or while he was with her as well. This was eye-opening to me to see that he really does not care who he hurts. It also shows me just how codependent I am. Why do I still love this person who clearly does not respect me, women in general or himself. Why do I need him to want me, to love me. Why can’t I let go? Why do I feel that enduring the pain that he causes me is less tragic than the pain of being without him? I have been doing some deep soul-searching, and shadow work to understand why. I still haven’t gotten over him, and I still love him.I still have fantasies of the fairytale ending where he is in love with me and faithful til the end, but I understand now that the chances of that becoming reality are very slim, and I am embarking on a journey of healing myself.
The story of our relationship and his betrayal did not end there. While I did kick him out of my house we continued to have a relationship and try to make things work. We had good times and bad times, but the fact that I held deep resentment and mistrust for him always permeated every interaction. The fighting was pervasive, and my codependent behaviors consumed me. We went through a cycle of me hating him and wanting nothing to do with him, and him wanting to end things and me begging him to give us a chance. The problems with his drinking never ended. He continued to message, search and flirt with girls. He repeatedly disappeared and lied about where he was. I tracked him, called and texted repeatedly and begged him to love me and to want a healthy relationship. My depression and sickness became worse, as well as his alcohol use.
Then this January he planned a trip to Las Vegas to visit his mom. I knew it would be the end. Vising his mom really means that his son stays with his mom while he spend all night out partying. I begged him not to go. I told him that I knew it would be the end. he went.
While there he at first assured me that he was not doing anything for me to worry about, but soon began to avoid talking to me and completely ignoring my phone calls. I was tracking what he was doing on his google maps which I had been doing since the last time he cheated on me. yes, he was aware of this. The last night of his trip after completely cutting me out, he turned of his location.
When he returned all hell broke loose for a few days. I was so hurt and angry. He apologized and insisted that he did not cheat on me or talk to any women. He wanted to recommit and start fresh. I decided to do this and things felt better for a couple of days, until, one day when he was asleep, I looked though his messages to his mom during his trip. A message from his mom asked where he was, that she was worried, and his response was he had met a woman.
My heart sank and my blood was on fire. “What the hell is this?” I yelled at him. At first he told me he had been talking to a woman on the bus and she gave him her number. I knew that this couldn’t be true. Why would that keep him out so late his mother would worry. why if it was just a casual encounter, would he even mention it to his mother. Then after hours of lies, he admitted he had picked up a lady at the bar, and cheated on me again.
F@$&. All of my dreams were shattered again. I had spent six years planning a future, a marriage, a life with this man who I was so in love with and he had hurt me again.
After ten days I stopped the Prozac. I felt it made my anxiety worse, and I was so sick all of the time. Not able to eat, and so nauseous. The final straw was when I broke out in coldsores covering most of my bottom lip. I quit. My therapist suggested I quit, and I did. I was still sick and depressed for a few days, but Im feeling much better now, except for the horrible sores on my lip.
He came home at around 7 am. He plopped down on the couch and passed out immediately. I raged. Where the hell were you? What the F@^& were you doing? He could barely answer me. He finally told me he was at a friends. What friend? You don’t have any friends over there? I saw your car parked on the road. Who in those apartments is your friend? I demanded to see his phone. He pulled it out and did something to it. Deleted something if you ask me. I demanded that he get up and take care of his son before i called his baby mam to tell her to pick him up. That got his attention. He got up. I told him to pack his shit and get out. I was so upset. I got on the phone and was able to find a place for him to go so he could get out immediately. The daughter of a former friend had a room he could stay in. Immediately after that was a blur. He left and took his son to his baby mama’s house. I left too. during this time he packed and text me. He swore he didn’t cheat. He had got drunk and passed out at the house of his former co-worker. Someone he gad slept with in the past. He was still adamant that he didn’t cheat on me.
When I did come home he showed up to get some of his things. That’s when he finally told me. He had gone to the bar, but it was closing, and he saw his old co-worker and her girlfriends waiting for a cab. He gave them a ride. That’s where he was when he told me he was getting food. After he left again he went back to her apartment. Then he told me he cheated with his old co-workers friend. At fist he said it was just kissing. Then as I pressed him he said there was touching too. I found her on Facebook and messaged her. I will call her Angelica. That’s when I found out everything. He showed up and started drinking. When everyone went to bed it was just Angelica and him on the couch. He started kissing her and fondling her. then he left to go throw up and passed out on the bathroom floor. He woke up before everyone else and went back to kissing Angelica. They went into the bathroom and he took down his pants so she could fondle him while he had his mouth all over her body. This would have continued but I called and my pet name on his phone was enough for Angelica to realize who I was to him. He left to come home. She had given him her number, and I am guessing that is what he deleted when I asked for his phone.
That morning began with him not wanting to go on the family outing that we had planned. We had planned to take the kids to a nearby town to visit a museum and spend time in the park. I was upset that he didn’t want to go. He thought we should do something else, but came up with no alternate solutions. We fought again. Then we made up, had breakfast, and made love. I don’t think we ended up going anywhere with the kids. It was a Saturday in April, and I had been extremely busy with homework and just wanted to get out of the house and enjoy myself. Then a friend of mine invited me to a bonfire at her house. I tried to get him to go, but at the last minute he decided not to.
I went to the bonfire without him. It was nice to be outside, listening to the other guests play instruments and talk. It was very low key and I wasn’t drinking, just good clean fun. I text to check in throughout the evening, and I left around 1 am. On the way home I called him. He said he had gone to pick up food. I beat him home and when he arrived everything turned very bad.
He started to question me as though I had done something wrong. He was drunk and extremely mean. He accused me of cheating on him with other guests at the bonfire. Then he took off. I spent the entire night trying to call him, but he had turned his phone off. He had taken off drunk and upset many times before, but always made his way home. I worried he had been arrested or gotten in a car accident. I finally got a couple hours of sleep around 3 am. At five am I woke up and decided to go look for him. I drove around the places that I thought he may have been, but never saw his car. Then on the way home I saw it, parked just around the corner from our house. I pulled over to see if he was sleeping inside. The car was empty. I went home and started calling again. He never answered. My heart was in my stomach and I threw up.
So today I finally caved and sought medication from my doctor to help with my anxiety and constant perservating on my negative thoughts. I am now an official member of the Prozac Nation. I will be updating you on my progress, or digress.
I felt a deep shame about what he did to me. I was humiliated. I didn’t want any of my family to know, and I didn’t reach out to any of my friends. I had been through this many times with my ex-husband, and I didn’t want anyone to know that I had failed at choosing a partner again. I should have known better, and I most certainly should know better than to stay with the no-good cheater. My heart didn’t want to let go. It didn’t want to let go of him, but it also didn’t want to let go of the pain and entitlement I felt from being victimized. I was trapped between two worlds. Shame kept me from acting. I only reacted, and pretended. I pretended everything was joyous as I watched the birth of my granddaughter hours after finding out about his “mistake”. I pretended to not be a complete chaotic mess as we held a birthday party for his son with all of my family and his judgmental, hypcritical mother in attendance a few days after that. I pretended at work and at home with the children. I did everything I could to make it through the days without having a complete breakdown. I accomplished what I had to, but many things began to slide. I lost the ability to enjoy my life. It became all about survival. Everyone suffered the consequence of my struggle.