Well, if anyone's still reading this lonely blog, I'm still here. The situation that I mentioned in February still has not resolved, and my life for the past eight months has sucked. Truly sucked.
I never would have expected that I would have to deal with adultery and chronic lying in my marriage, but here I am.
I've felt alternately angry, sad, in denial, ashamed, confused, tired, angry, numb, worthless, forgiving, angry, in denial, anxious, angry, despairing, hopeless, devastated, angry, hopeful, disbelieving, sad, in denial, astounded, angry, overwhelmed, furious, helpless, confused, abandoned, angry, useless, in denial, tired, and hopeless.
And through it all, I'm waiting (in vain) for him to make an (honest) effort for "us".
I'm not keeping this a secret anymore. I did for a long time, out of shame and a sense of failure. However, I have come to realize that this is not my secret, it was his. It is not my shame, it is his. I will accept my portion of the blame for our communication problems over the past few years, but not for the affair. That decision was his.
Our situation is what it is, and I have made an effort over the past many, many months to get past it, forgive, and heal our breach. I've been the only one making an effort. A relationship cannot be healed if only one person makes an effort, if only one person is willing to talk about it.
As I wrote in my journal one day in early June, I didn't know it was possible for anyone to be this unhappy. It's a physically manifesting feeling, with insomnia, loss of appetite, achy muscles, nausea, and constant tiredness. I've been miserable for so long that it's starting to feel normal, and that scares me.
At this point, though, I'm less concerned about how the situation is affecting me - I just don't want to see Emma get hurt any more than she has been. She desperately misses having Daddy live at home with us. And so do I.