I'm scared to death. I need to get my story out begining to end, and I've never done it. My friends, our friends, stand in support of dissolving my marriage. Our former MC understands why I am leaning in that direction. I've made one new friend since all of this started, an older woman with a healthy store of knowledge and understanding about human relationships. She is one of the very few who thinks there might be something to salvage here, if only for the fact that we can't seem to let each other go. <p>I've tried writing this all out in my journal but it doesn't work. I'm hoping for a comment, or two, or a kick in the pants, from an unbiased source, one who does not know me or my H personally. And if no one reads or responds, at least it will all be here for me to look at and mull over, in black and white. So. Here I go.<p>When M. and I met he was an outgoing, friendly, creative person. He seemed to know everyone and he'd just hit town a few days before I met him. We became fast, easy friends. He fit in well where we both worked (I was his boss) and gradually moved into the same social circle, since we knew more than a few people mutually. I wasn't attracted to him, but I considered him a friend for life. We had grown that close. <p>He was a womanizer. Had lots of "dates", lots of ONS's. He was young, in a new big city for the first time and making the most of it. He partied hard, used drugs (something I was never into). As for me, I had a great circle of friends, never felt like I "had" to have a date on Saturday night, although I had ample opportunity. I was into art, my work, being with my friends, throwing great parties, and I had at the time just let go of a boyfriend who turned out to be not quite right. <p>Fast forward a few months. M and I are spending some time alone together, doing things, though I never looked at them as dates. But I was starting to develop feelings for him. He had a girlfriends at the time, one I knew he had cheated on. I had no intention of "going there". He talked a lot about this girlfriend, how he just wanted someone to love him and he had her, but he didn't really love her. They weren't living together and they had beed seeing each other for just a few weeks and apparently she was head over heels. Still, I (and others) told him to break it off, because he wasn't being fair to her, he was leading her on. He knew we were all giving him the right advice. <p>On Christmas Eve of that year, at my annual open house, he sat me down in a quiet room and told me that the reason he could not make it work with his girlfriend was because he had loved me all along, that he could not love her. Looking back I think I had a fear and a secret hope of that being the case, but I never let on. And in trying to keep a level head (in my eyes, he was taken) I told him that this was something that needed thinking through. I was nervous, I was uncertain... though he was a great friend, I thought that romantically, he was "bad news". He asked me to really give it some thought, that he had been feeling this way for a while, was confused and wanted to do things right. I remember suggesting that time and thought was a good idea. He assured me again that he was indeed in love with me that he would break it off with her and he wanted me to try. That what he had been looking for was right there in front of him. <p>It was new years when he broke it off with his girlfriend and I let myself fall for him. Our relationship went on and it was really comfortable for a while. A few weeks into it he told me that he needed to confess that he had slept with a friend of ours, before we got together. He felt the need to tell me about her because this woman had twice stepped in front of me to sleep with men I had mentioned interest in. Mind you, not even in my carefree youth was I a woman who would invite a guy over for a drink and then bed him. She however, was. I always held on until I sensed there was some feeling there. I'm not making judgements, it's just how I chose to use my sexuality. So I let it pass, saying it wasn't a problem, I knew she was the way she was and he was pretty much the same up to a point, and I understood. Besides, when it happened, he was with his former girlfriend and I wasn't a blip on the radar. <p>I loved him, he loved me, we had great times together and started planning a future. We planned our wedding, we got pregnant (started trying immediately). I felt like we had fallen into a beautiful whilwind romance and a lovely life together. Then, sometime near the end of my pregnancy, we were talking about something when he let it slip that he and this friend of ours actually slept together the day after Christmas. Two days after he had told me there was me and only me, room in his heart for just me and that he was breaking it off with his girlfriend, for me. I tried to tell him that it made no sense to me that he would do this, but he grew angry and threw out there that there was no such thing as romance and to just get over it. He shut the door on that conversation and I felt stuck. I loved him, I wanted to know how it could happen with this woman -- the timing was in my eyes, obscene -- but he was done with it. And so,I cried and lost faith, at that moment in 1990. <p>It was just a few weeks after our daughter was born that we found out, long distance, that his mother was dying of Aids. His stepfather was the likely source, since his mom had had only 3 sexual partners in her life and had otherwise not had the opportunity to become infected. We flew to Seattle to see her and his stepfather. They talked very little about the disease, life the future... M just spent that week partying with his friends. He left me alone in his mothers apartment with a brand new baby, day after day and night after night. I think that was when I lost him completely. <p>He came back to the apt one night after having been out with his old gang of friends with bright pink lipstick on the inside of his shirt collar. He at first swore it was mine. But I didn't wear pink. Then he said one of the girls must have hugged him. But inside the collar? Then said maybe it happened while he was dancing. But inside the collar? And we went back home a few days later, that unresolved too. But I believed I had been betrayed -- in my mind for the second time since he professed his "undying love". He swears to this day that the pink lipstick was nothing, that he was just unlucky to get it there. He's even lately questioned whether it really was lipstick and was I just imagining it, even though I showed it to him at the time -- perfect hot pink lip print, no mistake. I gave him the benefit of the doubt, again. <p>In time he suggested we pick up and move to Seattle to care for his mother in her last days. I agreed without hesitation. Seattle was so much more beautiful than where I was raised, and I always believed one should care for their family. This was deeply important to me, too. That my MIL at least get to spend some time with her baby granddaughter, with her son, at the end of her life. We quit our jobs, we gave up our apt, packed everything up. The morning that we were to leave for Seattle, we got the phone call that his mother had died during the night. There was no turning back at that point and we headed out here anyway. <p>He was bitter and very angry at his Stepdad. In his eyes, Stepdad had killed his mother. It did not make matters better when that following easter, just a few months after his mom had died, his stepdad introduced us to his fiancee. M was enraged and couldn't see beyond his own pain and anger. I just let it go. I tried to be there for him. I talked to him, tried to do special things for him. I was working at the time, but he wasn't. He had inherited a good sum of money from his mothers estate, being her sole heir, and spent his days buying musical equiptment and looking after our daughter. At the time, I thought I should let him do whatever he needed to do. Though I did not think his anger towards his stepdad was justified (I don't think anyone WANTS to conttract a deadly disease and then pass it on to their loved ones). The timing of the course of theid Aids was such that stepdad may well have contracted it before he ever got together with my MIL. I felt like he needed time and patience to get through everything, to process it all. What I did not know is that this had set the foundation for the whole rest of the decade and our marriage.

Sounds like you really stood by your man, but yes, he's a womanizer and I don't think I could handle it. Why did your older friend think there was hope?

My mom left our adopted hometown and moved to AZ, where two other relatives were already living. I was newly pregnant with baby #2, we had just moved into a house which we were supposed to leave sfter the two year lease was up. I had quit my job. He didn't want me working downtown since I wasn't driving (big city thing) and was pregnant and he didn't want me bussing home at night. He wasn't working, and we had nearly gone through his inhertiance, mostly in musical gear. Still, there I stood, doing nothing when I knew I should have. Anything to not rock the boat, I guess. <p>We drove down to AZ to see my mom. It was a 3 week journey, and it could have been great. He really resented that I could not drive. He wanted to just get there, where I suggested we really take our time. We'd be broke back home anyway and when would we be able to spend three weeks seeing the country again? Baby #2 was on the way... God, we were really, really screwed up. <p>As expected, I spent a lot of time with our daughter and he spent a lot of time outside of the house. He went running. In NV, he spent time gambling while I swam in the pool or spent time with our D. <p>Back home in Seattle, he went back to work at the hotel he had worked at before leaving town. The money was great, the hours were a bit screwy but ok since I was now at home, expecting and caring for our D. He played music with friends, I started gardening, friends from back home came and went but he never reconnected with his old friends in Seattle. <p>SF went out the window. He was gone most nights and I was alone most days -- he was sleeping off work and drinking after work with his friends. The things that stand out from these years? Heather, the girl he always seemed to be hanging out with after work. Cute, perky, his best buddy. But he swears (and friends of ours swear) that friends is all they were. Still, they were emotionally attached, and I knew that he and I weren't. I felt isolated in a part of town where everyone seemed stoic and set in their ways and I still couldn't drive -- he'd bought a manual and I had barely been behind the wheel of an automatic. My H was never at home. My H would tell me to make friends, go out and get a life. A few times, I did and he blew three or four gaskets. What was wrong with me, wanting to go out when he was sleeping it off at noon on Sunday? I begged and cried and ignored and pleaded. I tried to plan dates, I apologized, I wanted to know what he wanted. I tried more, better sex even when I didn't feel like it. Eventually I gave up, frustrated that this man simply did not want me. Nothing I did was right. But I was stuck, alone in a city I barely knew with a toddler and a newborn. <p>I started to LB big time. Wondering why he had time for Heather but not for Snowwhite. Wondering why he was out until 6AM on my birthday, on fathers day. He tried the "oh, you're so cute when you're jealous" approach. He told her once point blank that they could not hang out anymore because I was a jealous woman. He said this made her angry but he agreed to stick to it. Then a few weeks later, he was carrying her dog food up to her apartment at 5AM because she'd hurt her back. He was listening to her lamenting that she had to work at the hotel and as a Stripper to make ends meet. I asked him how, why had he gone back on his word. He said it was because he was innocent of any wrongdoing and felt like he should be allowed to do whatever he wanted to do. I tried to explain that even if there was no physical affair, their friendship hurt me a great deal because at the time, he and I had no real friendship left. There was no time shared with me at all. Heather was getting my quality time, my husband. I felt I may as well have been a blow-up doll. <p>No, there really was no marriage at this point. This was 1994, 1995. He would not budge. I felt chained to the house and trapped in a bad marriage to a man I loved and wanted, but obviously did not feel the same about me.<p>[ February 08, 2002: Message edited by: Snowwhite ]</p>

Hoping, my friend believes in the here and now. I have a hard time seeing it from her perspective. My H also says he was a real sh** for ten long years, but he wants to go back to where things were pre-Seattle. I've tried telling him that my problem with him started when I found out about the post Christmas goodies he got from my girlfriend. He wants to prove himself, but how can I believe him?<p>This thread is also for my friend, since she's asked for the whole story. She has a lot of experience in divorce law and is very curious. <p>Thanks by the way for reading through some of this mess!

I had a day care in the home at the time. It turned into a 24/7 job, since I've always been a cleaner & scrubber, wanted everything "perfect" for the kids in my care. I had a great time doing this. Spent so much time with my wonderful children and the beautiful kids in my care. I made some very good friends, their parents, many who remain so these years later. <p>M (my husband) was still absent. But I really was working on it. I knew his passion was music and I encouraged him at every turn to pursue it. In my mind, if he could be happy in himself, he could become happy in our marriage. I'd always expected that if you give to someone, they will eventually give back to you. And while I had my faults -- my suspicions, my judgements, my expectations, and anger about him not fulfilling ANY of my needs -- I thought we could in spite of it all make it work. He responded by telling me he loved me and that no other woman could take my place, that the mere though of even kissing another woman repulsed him, much less touching another woman. I came to believe for a time that it had all been my imagination. My fault, somehow. Hadn't he after all told me every time he met Heather? Maybe it WAS all in my head... <p>During this time, we learned that my mother too was dying of cancer. A rare form, chemical exposure at her job. It was compounded by her alcoholism and the fact that she did not seek treatment until nearly a year after the first loud symptoms presented themselves. To make it harder, she had my 16 yo brother living with her. We had just struggled to get him back into the country after he had been taken to another country by my father, abandoned and expected to fight in a civil war that this kid knew nothing of nor had any interest in. He was floundering, alone, a teenager... M and I both decided it would be in my brothers and my mothers best interest to bring him up to live with us, while my other brother took care of our mother. <p>Things went well for a while. I felt like we had weatherd some great sort of a storm. Together, with my brother, we sat down and made a plan for the next two years. My #1 and #2 goals were to finally move out of that horrid house and to finish school. M agreed that that would be best for all of us, in the long run. I started school immediately, while he took over half the day care duties, keeping his job on an on-call basis at the hotel. <p>My mother had a bad spell and my brother and I flew down to spend the week with her. It was close that time, but she survived. A week after coming home I found out I was pregnant with #3. I was devestated. Things had finally lined up for me but now it seemed God had other plans. I cried and cried and I was honest with M. I told him that the two years after our sons birth were the lonliest, most devestating of my life and I did not want to go back there. I felt like my life would be on hold forever. <p>It was a hard pregnancy. My mother went into and out of drug induced comas, I was sick the whole time, unsure of wanting this child with this man who had already done so much damage... I had been starting to lose the old weight, to get back to myself, to start doing things at last for me, for our future. These feelings pushed him even further away. He agreed that he had been an absent father but he assured me that things would be different this time. <p>He was in and out of bands, playing open mikes and more than occasionally staying out way past late, way past when the bars closed. Always there was an excuse. He was talking to some guys. He lost track of time while playing music at someones house. Hey, it was alright with everyone elses spouse, why not his? I didn't know his new "friends", and he never offered to introduce me. And anyhow, continued his reasoning, I was just at home asleep with the kids. <p>Halfway through the pregnancy, I knew I wanted out but I felt trapped by my circumstances. I had no where to go and felt too ashamed to tell my friends back home what was really going on. I lost touch with everyone. My whole world was that box of a house. <p>In August of that year I told him I wanted to end it. I had told him before, and he had always begged me to not throw in the towel. He says I asked him often. I'm sure it was too often. I can count six times. And each time, I can honestly say, I did not want to leave him. I wanted him to know how much pain I was in and the only time he seemed to listen and try was when I used that word. It was sick. It was my trump card, yet I never wanted to follow through. That August was the seventh and I meant it. So I have no idea why I begged him back. Fear? Fear of being alone? Fear of not being able to ever find another to love me -- because that young woman who felt so full of life and so beautiful in so many ways now felt so ugly, so dead inside. <p>My baby was born and of course I loved her immediately. She was a trial, really. I always say that if she had been the first, she would have been the last. The first two were instant through-the-night sleepers, good eaters, never a worry. This one was colicky, allergic to everything, never happy. I felt like I had brought this all on her. But we survived and she is thriving today. She is my little funky-monkey, and she is full of chutzpah. <p>Two weeks after my youngest was born, my mother died. The baby was in the hospital at the time. I did not go to the funeral, but I sent my brother. My H said he was sorry, but we never talked about it other than that. <p>I decided that I was not going to give up my plans. My H quit working at the hotel to take up day care full time, I took up part time work at another hotel and went back to school. During this time, he ended up in the hospital for weeks with a bizzarre skin ailment on his leg that no specialist at the University seemed to be able to figure out. He got better but only after I spent too much time away from school to tend to the kids and the day care. I flunked out that quarter. <p>He came home, auditioned for a new band while bedridden. He still couldn't stand, but he was determined to play. He told me that I had to carry the load because this band was rally important. <p>The day care closed down and I started working full time at the hotel. He dedicated himself to the band and collected unemployment for a while. <p>I met a lot of great people at my new job, people just like me. One of them taught me to drive her car and pass my first driving test at 36! She took me under her wing at work too, having been the "new girl" not too long before me. Then I started to meet people who had worked with my H at the other hotel, the one he had worked at. They all seemed surprised by me, curious... I couldn't imagine why. I became good friends with a girl I'll call Debbie. She and I both grew up in the same big city and had a lot in common. She knew Heather and M and was always one of the people who insisted that they didn't have a PA -- she said Heather would not stand for that. <p>One uneventful night, my driving friened, Lisa and I went out for a beer after work with Sandra. Sandra was a really interesting gal. She was a little younger, long blonde hair, full figured, a dedicated biker. We were sitting there, talking about our men when she found out I was M's wife. She looked really, really confused, took a deep breath. Looked to me then Lisa, who was sitting next to me. I asked if she knew him from the other hotel and she said yes. So we started talking, comparing notes. I gave her much of the story I gave here. She had a lot of intererest. Made a lot of comments. <p>" So you weren't being supported at home at all ". <p>" No, he never had an A with Heather -- she was not at all about that, but she WAS pissed when he told her you were jealous. She told him it was HIS fault for not paying attention to his wife." <p>She did volunteer that M was drinking much, much more heavily back then than I had suspected. Said that one night when she and her BF had just moved to a new place, M showed up at her doorstep at 4 AM and he BF had to toss him out. (A story my H denies, says that Sandra was lying, though he can't figure out why). But maybe he was just too drunk to remember?<p>I remember saying I had to leave because it was already 11PM, we'd been there for just over an hour and I had to get home. Sandra just shook her head and frowned, " Why are YOU worried about getting home? HE never did?"

<p>[ February 08, 2002: Message edited by: Snowwhite ]</p>

In May of 1997, just before the day care closed for good, I came home from work to find my H running out. He was in a hurry. Meeting some "guy" to play music with. I ordered a pizza for dinner. We were broke but M did not have dinner prepared -- he never did, even though when Iwas at home it was expected of me. I was exhausted after too long of a day and too long of a shift the night before. I went on line to write to a friend and noticed a sent message undeleted. It was from M to Britt, his bands new would-be manager, asking her to call him before 5, when his wife gets home, and let him know if she wants to get together for a drink. <p>I saw red. I knew then that all of the cheating i had imagined was true. I phoned a friend, one who I knew didn't care for him and even she said to me to not jump to any conclusions. So I phoned her, I paged her, got no response. I left messages for her, telling her I knew he was with her and to send him home. <p>He came in a few hours later, livid for no apparent reason. He insisted he had not been with her. (Then why were you angry, M, when you walked in?). Through days and nights of my accusations, questioning, and her never calling me back, he convinced me that I was once again, a fool for doubting him. He loved me, could never touch another woman, it was that repulsive to him... <p>If anyone else is reading this far... I'm embarassed. Good God, how many times does a brick have to smack me in the head before I'll think to duck? What the HELL is wrong with me? <p>It was a summer later that I found him on the phone with his old girlfriend. His first love. An alcoholic who's lost custody of her children and who has repeatedly cheated on her husband. <p>"Why talk to her, M? "
" I just need to know what happened.. to close that chapter..."<p>Wasn't that chapter closed 20 years earlier? He met her for lunch and told me about it afterwards, even when I told him that I may trust him, but not her. Please, please M, for me, for our marriage... He met her anyway. In spite of my pleas. <p>I found comfort and strength in my children and my friends. My children gave me love, seeing my kid brother grow up and move into his own life, made me proud. My friends, especially the new ones at the hotel who seemed to genuinely care for me, and my one day care mom, Mo, gave me the support I had lacked for nearly ten years. <p>I felt like I could tolerate any work I had to doto make my marriage better. I learned through my friends how imperfect marriages can be and how hard they had to work on them. And then one wonderful Christmas Eve, at my first resurrected Christmas Eve open house since leaving the old home, a houseful of dear friends toasted each other, our families and all made our prayers, openly, for the new year.<p>My husband prayed out loud, in front of all of our friends, for a Good Marriage, and it was echoed by everyone in the room. I felt loved and close and cared for.

I started feeling sick the following January. I was exhausted and just never seemed to get enough sleep. I was always nauseated. Then, all of a sudden in February, my breast was leaking blood. I went straight to my doctor. I had a mamogram. I was under the knife within days. There was no cancer, thank you again, God, but I had a horrible, horrible scare. To compound it, my doctor discovered a bacteria in my gut which continued to nauseate me and keep me, er, busy in the bathroom any time I tried to eat. To make THAT even worse, I had a horrible reation to the antibiotics used to treat the bacteria... <p>In short, it was months of agony. My H had quit his job just before that Christmas, but I tried to be supportive. At an auction, I bid on and won a great dinner for two at an amazing place... I was to keep it until he was employed again as a celebration for his perseverance. In return, he bought me the first real gift I'd received from him in years -- a masssage for a hard working mom. I felt positive. He started training as a manager at Starbucks. I felt great about the relationship. Until I got sick.<p>He really acted like it was all my fault. I would work a morning shift (5am on) and come home too exhausted to do anything before a nap... and he would wonder why the house was a mess, why was I laying down, why wasn't I cooking... <p>I came to feel like I could do nothing right. It did not matter that I was sick. It seemed like in his mind, it didn't really count. If I wasn't in the hospital, even though I was stitched and bandaged right after the surgery, I should have been well enough to do it all. <p>I transferred to a new department. I wanted to work days because I knew that the end was coming. This looked promising because the manager of the dept knew and appreciated my work. I thought I might return to school in the evenings, with so little to go it seemed like a prudent move. I felt positive about ME for a change. Knew I had gone through the ringer. But was ready to pull myself out. <p>One day, he and I talked, had a family dinner and everything felt somehow different. I felt good, and I think he knew it. We had the best SF we'd had in years and I had no idea what had changed. I went out the next day and colored my hair -- chopped off the waist length brow hair and came home with a platinum blonde Mia Farrow cut. <p>He told me he had been on a date two nights before and that he felt awful. He wanted to work on the marriage, he didn't want to date. I asked if he had used a condom and he said yes. But then he denied having sex with her. I left. I bought my first pack of cigarettes in years and went to a girlfriends house. She sat me down with a scotch and water and suggested I talk to our friend Debbie about my husband.

Snowwhite...
Welcome and blessings to you and your family...<p>Start reading as there is tons of information here that help get you organized and focused..not to mention the great support and creative input from people....<p>It appears you two have been together a long time...and three children alone bespeaks of a lot of history...<p>Here's some of my advice...What others think about ending or maintaining your marriage is irrevelevent...that decision can and must be made only by you...it's the only fair thing for you and for them....When people speak to others of pain and hurt human nature has us immediately encourage them to move away from such pain...they mean well...and in the end you may need to do that..but don't do it based on their thoughts...opinions...
Also you may want to think about the impact of involving people as it can potentially hurt each of you if you the two of you decide to work on things...
Things happen in life to all of us...and though we sometimes can't help it we hang onto some hurts in the past that perhaps we can/should/ or even need to let go of...
I find it interesting you hold onto a christmas eve event pre dating......and I certainly see your point...but God you both sound so young...and really the only thing you two committed to on christmas eve was that you were attracted to each other...I know it held great meaning for you...I can only imagine how magical that moment was for you...christmas eve...party..good food..great wine....a house full of love and good cheer that really only does happen once a year..and this great guy confessing undying love for you...that's magic...Snow-white..that is the fairy-tale moment we all live for..and babe you had it for that moment..and some never even get a shadow of it....and yeah he messed up two days later...big-time...but with his record and how you two REALLY weren't even an item then...He did mean it..at that moment he was prince charming....Celebrate that memory for what it was<p>What I'm trying to say is that forgiveness and letting go is sometimes needed to see the here and now...
The fact that your husband wants to work on things is a huge huge step...and this site offers a map on becoming the type of people you want to be..It also gives ways to help you work through things to know you did everything you could....take the EN questionaire with him...read up on the all info...<p>luck to you and your home
ARK

I'm tring to finish this so it can drop off the page tonight. <p>****
I did go home later that night, but only after driving around town, looking for the wh*** that had dated my husband the weekend before. He wouldn't give up more than her name, but eventually caved on her email addy. I emailed and emailed untile I was blue in the face. No regrets. That B*** helped make my life miserable by sleeping with a married man. She has no right to peace as far as I'm concerned.<p>He went to work the next day. As soon as he came home I left, met my old friends near the hotel and we pow-wowed. I asked Debbie about what she knew and she said, "well, i do know of one person he slept with at the (old hotel he worked at)". I asked who, and she said, " Sandra". Yes, that same woman of the heart-to-heart years before with Lisa. Lisa, also present this day, was as dumbfounded as I was.
And Debbie added, "It's why Heather hated him so much. She couldn't believe that he was screwing around on you with Sandra but you thought it was Heather the whole time... "<p>So much for EA's going PA. <p>He would not confess to having slept with Sandra until the next night. And he swore it was only once. Sandra confirmed this herself and added, " I always hated him after that because I was drunk out of my mind... and then I felt guilty when I met you because I reallt LIKED you. " <p>Of course, M swore he was drunk out of his mind, that Sandra took advantage of him. I asked him to leave anyway. <p>He confessed to four other women. Two guests of the hotel he worked at. Both of them while I was pregnant with baby #3 and my mom was dying. <p>One he picked up at Starbucks the night before she moved to Mexico, (while I was sick). He can't remember her name either. <p>And one other he picked up at a show -- another one whose name he doesn't know. That was one of those nights he came home at five AM, hanging out with "the guys". <p>He swears that Britt never happened, that the lipstick was an unlucky thing, probably made by one of his friends. Anything else that has come out since (our former neighbor, whose house he went to at 3AM, swears he made a pass at her, he says she's insane) he says is all lies. There were just the six and the last one, just before he confessed, he really didn't even sleep with. <p>In fact, he says that there was only one orgasm on his part (starbucks sl**) and that for that one they weren't even fully undressed. Says he got up and left the hotel room both times, before finishing. The woman from the show was so out of it that he got up and left half way through. Again, not fully undressed either. <p>As for his part, he says that I accused him so much that he finally just became what was expected of him, but that he was full of self loathing. That there were no other women, that he really has loved me all along. He says he was so depressed that he was trying to destroy himself. The sex was self-destructive. <p>And all I can do is sit here, sigh and wonder.

ark, God Bless you for the patience in reading so long a story. I really, really have been anxious to get it down, begining to end. Just for myself to look at in context and in the right time line. <p>You are so right about the Prince Charming thing. No, we had nothing that first Christmas eve, but I've tried to explain to him how much that moment meant, and how much of it was taken away. Big deal, I know. I guess there haven't been many good moments since then and so I cling to what I have. <p>We have done the EN, but he quit... thought it was too much pop psych and not enough for him to work with???? <p>In essence, I don't know this man at all. He's been a roommate for ten years, his own person, completely apart from me. And I love and care for him in spite of it all. <p>Snow

Snowwhite - I just have support to offer; no advice.<p>I'm struggling mightily myself!<p>I pray for you; that you get what you want, and that your recovery is wonderful.<p>I've learned many lessons through this; one is that your gut is usually right...<p>Infidelity sucks.<p>
Dan<p>[ February 08, 2002: Message edited by: Family Man ]</p>

Hi there! Remember me? We used to share threads on sexual addiction back when we both first started posting on here (sigh! - what an awful thing to have in common! [img]images/icons/shocked.gif" border="0[/img] ).<p>I've read through all you've written on this thread so far. And the one thing I see standing out like a sore thumb is all of the wrongdoings by your H, and little by you.<p>We all know that both the WS and the BS play roles in the breakdown of the M prior to an A. Have you discovered what YOUR part in the breakdown was during that time?<p>BUT<p>We also know that when there is an addiction involved (such as sexual addiction or alcoholism), then the M can't actually be worked on until those issues are dealt with first.<p>SO...<p>Now I'm curious as to where you and your M stands right now? I'll be the first to admit, that I haven't done very well at keeping up with some stories on here (especially anything written in the last 3 months).<p>I will try to look out for the rest of your story on here later. I bet it feels just AWESOME to get it all out. And yes, you're right about the 'how many times do you need to get hit by a brick' thing. I often think the same way when I look back on my relationship with my H. What the hell were we thinking!?!?!?! Here's my NON-professional answer: one of the things we love about our H's is that they have problems, and we want to help them fix them (but at the same time, we realize that only they can help themselves). A nasty catch22 if you ask me. [img]images/icons/tongue.gif" border="0[/img] <p>Take care,<p>Karen

Oh Karen, how well I remember when we first bumped into each other here. <p>I have spent the last two years searching for my part in this. And I was not a perfect wife. And somewhere in here I listed my contributions. I had no faith in him from the start. My main contribution to the breakdown of the marriage is that lack of trust. The second worst thing I did was play that trump card ("I want a Divorce") when I really had no intention of following through. I was frustrated, alone, at wits end. I never had his attention until I asked him to leave. I begged for attention, I wrote letters, sent cards, planted notes... nothing worked. He was oblivious. <p>He tells me every day that he loves me and he has no idea how it got so out of control. He did things his way and I could not stop him. He was, he says, depressed from the day he learned his mother was sick. We had not even been married a year when that lipstick appeared on his shirt -- still honeymooning, really. <p>My Marriage now is in limboland. I don't see any reason to stay together. I love him, I care about what happens to him, but I can't give anymore. He wants yet another chance to prove he is "worthy". Whatever that means. He insists he is NOT a sexual addict, though all of his reasoning points to it. He won't even broach the subject in therapy. Things I hear from him today are, " I'm better now", " I can be the best husband in the world", "I've changed", " I promise it can never happen again". It's too much protesting. <p>Dear, dear Karen, thank you for reading as far as you did. I'm sure it was a daunting task. I will also be the first to tell you to go ahead and write out your own story. Here, in a journal, on scraps of paper... somewhere. It is so liberating to put it out there, to get the whole thing out of you. Yes, there are spots missing in mine. I thought of a few important ones towards the end but didn't want to edit anymore. I figured done had to be done, for this story at least. Something about having it in black and white makes things so clear... <p>I'm curious to how you're doing as well. I've run across you while lurking a few times and things seemed well with the two of you. I hope I'm right. <p>Snow

Thank you too, Family Man, for your support. I know you have a lot on your plate too and I appreciate you poking your head in here to offer comfort. Bless you.<p>Snow

For a while, everything that had gone wrong in our marriage was my fault. I was paranoid. That he was hanging out with our cute, single female neighbors back home, before baby #1 came along, not inviting me with them... that was paranoia on my part. That he was at our neighbors house here in Seattle, three Saturday nights in a row ( a single woman who we were both sure had a crush on him ) in the middle of the night... that was paranoia too. <p>All I remember of the school years is doing papers at two AM because that was all the time I had. Things at home were otherwise business as usual. I cleaned, I cooked, I created the day care curriculum and planned the outings, did the laundry and as soon as I started driving, I did all the errand running too. <p>I remember when I first told him that it bothered me how close he and Heather were getting. He got angry and told me that he would cheat on me if I mentioned it again. He was sick of not being able to hang out with women. <p>I remember many nights of waking up alone in bed again. I remember many promises of "I'll be home early". Little did I know that early meant the following morning. <p>I always assumed that our sex life was dull because he had no great sexual imagination, not beyond finding excitement in a new woman. <p>He has come home reeking of perfume at 4 AM. He denies that. (No I don't wear it)<p>I have seen perfect fingernail scratch marks on his back, four to a side, when I have had no fingernails. He at first blamed it on me, but I had no nails and we had not had sex the night before. These days, he explains those away as a scratch he got at work. <p>And all of those nights of him "falling asleep on some guys sofa" until 5 Am. No, I never trusted him. He never behaved in a trustworthy manner. Not since I've known him, I guess. Maybe I should have given him a chance way way back in the begining. Not mentioned the lipstick. Not cared that he was spending time alone in myneighbors apartment while I was at work. Really? Or was he just never trustworthy? <p>I'm trying to think of good moments. I may have to sleep on this.

Snow white, I read every word of your story and it was very well written. It sounds like you have truly been the long-suffering spouse and that your H has a problem with sexual addiciton and a lifestyle that does nothing to curb it. <p>On the EN forum, there is a post called "Too Good to Leave, Too Bad to Stay" by Annavon. I don't know whether you've seen it or not, but there are a list of questions on it that might give you a little clarity.<p>Another book that I highly recommend is "Boundaries in Marriage" by Townsend and Cloud. One of the points they bring up is about Good Spouses. In a lot of marriages, there is clearly one spouse who is more selfish, lazy, self-centered, etc. than the other. The problem this causes is that people tend to focus all their attention on the problems the "Bad spouse" has. It ALWAYS takes 2 to tango. <p>The good spouse often fails to see that love and compassion are only a couple of ingedients needed in a good relationship. Truthfulness, honesty, limits, consequences are needed, too.<p>Then there is the good spouses tendancy to feel morally superior. If we focus on how good WE are, then we ignore the need to love and forgive.<p>One more thing.......what were you doing up in the wee hours of the morning, posting on here??? [img]images/icons/wink.gif" border="0[/img]

Snow white: First off, you are not the only one who ventured outside while raining bricks. I think in one form or another we have all done this. <p>I do have to say that with revelation a semi truck finally finished off what the bricks were incapable of doing. Woke me up.<p>How did you ever get your H to admit to all these previous ONS? My H too has a personality similar to yours. Female friends, nothings going on, no sex, therefore no reason he shouldn't have them. His way, has to enjoy life etc. etc.<p>We are making recovery, it' been a year since D day this week. Bad week for me.<p>I wonder deep down how many of these "innocent episodes" were really not so innocent. From your post you had the same scenario. For the life of me I cannot get my H to admit to any other wrong doing ever. I have no proof so wala.<p>I too did not trust mine. When I found out about his A he too said, "well I was accused etc."<p>I hope things work out for YOU. One way or another, I hope you find the happiness you deserve. I have come to believe that our own happiness supercedes that of our spouses as long as we are following the MB principles. <p>Try this new attitude. I am happy with me, I like me, AND I have limits. He is free to do as he pleases just as you are free to take only what you can. I don't believe in threats, but I do believe strongly in, Hey, I love you but I am not happy with the way our lives are moving. <p>I certainly am no expert. I have been on this roller coaster from hell for quite a while now. My mother in law gave me excellent advice. She said, "If you're not happy, make yourself happy".<p>Take care, prayers and understanding are with you.

Wow! Rreading through my story gave me a headache in the end... I hope you fared better and I thank you all for the effort. <p>Alizarin, no great mystery to why I was up. I bartend or waitress at the Hotel on weekends, get home pretty late. It's also why I had all day Friday to purge my demons while the kids were at school. <p>Yes, I did read the "Too Good/Too Bad" thread by Annavon. It was that thread and another one she wrote (I think it was her) about her abusive situation which finally pushed me out the door to get my whole story down, somewhere, anywhere. And I'm glad I could do it here, where someone might run across even a portion of it and scoot me along. <p>About the Good Spouse/Bad Spouse, love and compassion... Yes, you are absolutely right, it does take two to tango and I danced right along the whole time. <p>I think my H is a great salesman. He always has been. He'll proudly tell you that he can talk a squirrel out of its last walnut in the middle of winter. He is intelligent, he has his wits about him, and he's good at playing whatever game he needs to play to survive. <p>Up until all of the A's were irrefutably (sp?) discovered/confessed, he would proudly tell me that he could at any time walk into a room and 95% of the time go home with whatever woman he chose to go home with. Okay, he would say this in the context of "Anybody can get laid anytime, why pay for it..." conversations. That it was all about attitude. He also claimed to have slept with about 100 women (!!!) the summer that we first met. He now claims that these statements were gross exaggerations, even though he had made them several times during our marriage. <p>Love, compassion... I never doubted he loved me, but he really never showed me. Not in the usual way. Not by just being there for me. If I was ever honest about my anger, and a few times I admitted that I did not want to divorce him but that it was my trump card... he patted my hand with a "there, there" a promise to change and went back on his merry way. <p>I really do understand your point about the love and compassion that we need to feel towards them. The need to love and forgive. I am fighting mightily for the ability to forgive. The #1 thing standing in my way is that I simply do not believe he has come clean. Anything you've read about any questions I had, he SWEARS (on his mothers grave, just like he swore there were no others besides Sandra) that I was just imagining the rest of it. I will not even approach forviving (whether we stay married or not) until I feel I am no longer being treated like a moron. <p>K9, I did not get him to confess. He confessed to the one "date", then I found out about Sandra from our mutual friends. That was May. He moved out in July of that year and I left that house behind that same August. We are living about six blocks apart right now so that we can both be close to the kids. <p>That year ('00) we spent no time together after the separation. He tried and tried and hung around every opportunity he could. He also got in the way as much as possible. He had sudden last minute plans on my birthday so he could not watch the kids as promised, so I could not go out. (imagine how upset he was that his plans to ruin my plans were upset when my friends came to my place to celebrate instead, kids, champagne, pizza and all!) If he had the kids and I was out (unreachable) he phoned and phoned and phoned until I came home. He begged me to not see other people, that he wouldn't. (I am not divorced, so that isn't even going to happen until then.) <p>He is and was free to do as he pleased/pleases but suddenly claimed he did not want that. We had an earthquake here in Seattle on Ash Wednesday of 2001. He begged me to come over before work that evening and he just blurted it out. Maybe it was the earthquake. I think he'd been working up to it anyhow. But he said immediately that there were only six women and that they never happened when I thought they were happeneing. He said Sandra was the first, that he was just fed up with being accused all of the time. But that he was in a drunken stupor, that he threw up immediately afterwards... <p>He also then made the rest of the episodes as palatable as possible. (Remember, he's a great salesman...) #2, he was full on naked with but could not "finish". Got up to leave. #3, she started uhm, "treating" him while he sat in a chair in her room but he was repulsed so he got up and left... You get the idea. " I cheated, but it wasn't fun". And " I could not go through with it".<p>He knows that I know there were many. So he had to admit to more than Sandra. Now he stands by the explanation that he was trying to kill himself. That with these women, he felt bad and wrong and it was a small suicide in every way. He did not want to hurt me. <p>So when I wonder why there were 3 in one year, one a year later and then two suddenly again in early 2000... he does not know. <p>As for now, he is trying to be accountable. My happiness does come first now and I have told him that having sex with someone that "used" does not make me happy. I have told him that being married to him no longer makes me happy. He has responded that he is willing to wait as long as it takes and do whatever he needs to do to make this work. I can't get it out of my head that he is a great con man and I am an easy target, always have been. The only thing that would make me feel like I could take a leap of faith is knowing that I had something at least close to the truth. <p>K9, you are lucky to have your MIL. I wish I had mine. I'm sure she'd give me similar advice. <p>kinda silly to apologize for the "long post" at this point, huh? [img]images/icons/grin.gif" border="0[/img] <p>Snow

I'm trying to think of positive things about our past. Good times. I can't seem to find any. [img]images/icons/frown.gif" border="0[/img] <p>We rarely went out together. Once we spent a weekend on one of the islands without the kids. We really had nothing to talk about. But it was a peaceful weekend. <p>I remember a really stressful day at a temp job I held for a while. I came home and found the bubble bath full, wine and cheese in the bathroom, beautiful new underwear for me laid out so that I could slip into it after my bath. I really felt cared for that day. <p>I remember coming home from school one night while I was pregnant. He answered the door for me, naked. It was a wonderful, blissful evening... but that memory was ruined when I realized he must have been at the hotel with an OW a few nights earlier [img]images/icons/frown.gif" border="0[/img] <p>The bitter truth of it is there were so few good times during our marriage, that this is all I can come up with! It's pathetic, I know. Why were we there? Why did we put up with this life that was so unsatisfying, so empty a marriage, so bleak an outlook? Why did we let ourselves stay there for so long without moving out or forward?
When I think of joyful moments, they more often than not did not include him. Laughter when he wasn't around. Triumph shared without him.<p>Like hugging my friend Lisa in the middle of the street the first time that I drove home from work. Like the first time I took the kids on a ferry, crossed the sound and went camping -- no other adults! Pitched a tent in 20 minutes and had the fire going for dinner. (He was away at a show that weekend) Or the first time I drove to Oregon to visit the relatives, on the interstate. This from a woman who didn't even learn to drive until her mid-thirties. Sheer ecstasy! The gasp that my art teacher let out when she saw my final project and immediately gave it an A plus. The kids playing with sea creatures on the beach at low tide one morning. Laughing as the dog got his snout sprayed by a clam he got too close to. Hiking with the day care kids one long summer day. Exploring the forest and me being the only adult there to soak in their joy, their revelry, their fairy games around the bushes and in the trees. <p>There have been better moments since we have separated. After waiting nearly a year, he finally made the appointments to see the MC and stuck with it. <p>He quit the band and does not want to play music anymore. Not like he had been. I told him that I thought it was a shame since the band was really promising -- good reviews on the CD, lots of respect from the music community. But he sadly admitted that for him, the price was too high. The cost of being in that band (his family, and time with the kids) wasn't worth what he got in return. <p>He tries to be accountable for his time. This is admittedly difficult since we don't live together, but he calls often and he is at my house often, or the kids are with him. <p>We have had some good heart to hearts. He knows now that he never did hear me. He recently said that he would try to hear me even when I whisper. He admitted to having a problem with really listening to anybody, that he really does try to convince just about everyone to do things his way and give him what he wants. <p>He takes full responsibility for checking out, completely, years and years ago. He's lost most of his real friends and has only recently , since our separation, started making new, "real" friends, and reestablishing ties with those he lost years ago. <p>He is not as judgemental as he had become. He has softened to people a great deal, and no longer makes immediate judgements. I always thought this was an insecurity issue with him. <p>He has kept the same job for nearly two years now. This is the longest he has held a job since I have known him! And he is thriving at work. He seems to really enjoy what he is doing. <p>He is still drinking, but has curbed it greatly. He went dry for a few months. Has said he would gladly give it up if it bothered me. But I don't believe that he should stop drinking for me. He should do it because he wants to. And I for one, never really having been a problem drinker, won't give up my occasional glass of wine or cocktails every now and then. Still, where he used to be able to easily down a six pack in an evening, it's down to the occasional beer or glass of wine if he's with me. <p>I have told him how I feel about having sex with him. That it's tainted, that I feel like I could be anybody, no one special since there never was any specialness to our sex life during our marriage. The sex we had, he was having with numerous other faceless, nameless women that he met in so many different places... I just don't want to do it with him right now. And he says that's okay, as long as I will agree to try, he will wait until it's right. <p>Most importantly, he tries to be there for those moments that are so important to the kids. I have taken the, camping several times since that first daring outing alone (I figured, if I don't, then who will?). He has only come along once. But he has planned and carried through a trip to the snow in the mountains, trips to the coast. He actually took them to his sisters in Oregon without me. Didn't even ask me to help him pack. He has taken them to movies -- something he RARELY did before. He has been the at home parent, supervising sleepovers and play dates. He never used to do this. He is trying to become a hands on father. One of my favorite photos from last year is of him and our oldest proudly displaying the first omelette she has ever cooked. He is now trying to help me teach them to cook and clean. <p>I do love him. I always will. There is a part of him that is still that dear friend I met way back when in that far away place. But I don't feel like I am in love with him anymore. I think that has died. I don't know if that is a good thing or a bad thing. I am parylized right now, trying to understand my life and my own purpose. I know I need to be the best mother my children can have. I know I need to be as kind and nurturing and strong for my friends through their trials as they have been to me through mine. And I need to be understanding of all of us when we trip and fall. But where does that leave me as a wife? How do I accept him for who he is now when I don't know who it is I've spent the last twelve years with? Can I accept this man? Can I give myself again to someone who so callously put my feelings aside? I know that I don't want to. But life isn't always about what we want. The last twelve years have proved that.