- ‘Stop blaming me and get over it.’
- ‘You made the choices you made.’
- ‘I am not responsible for the way that you feel.’
- ‘There is no correlation between what you experienced in the past, and the way that you are now.’
But the reality - the whole
picture was always much different for me.
Sure, mental illness was a
symptom that I began to fight with vigor… determined not to let situational
depression, chemical imbalances, and the whole genetic pre-disposition thing get
me down. I believed that I could fight mental illness and win. I still believe
that, but with a much broader perspective, knowing that there is far more to it
than controlling the outward symptoms.
Recently I’ve been experiencing
another rough patch. It’s not nearly as bad as I’ve been in the past and I’m
much better at managing it these days… at least for the most part. But a few weeks ago as I doubted my strength to get through this darkest period, I spoke with
a friend whose words were beyond powerful as she texted me.
Read Psalm 88 – darkness is my closest friend.
It’s okay to feel the way you are sister!
You have been so mistreated – disrespected – unloved.
I wanted to believe her words so
badly that night. But as I laid awake in bed, unable to sleep… I turned my head
back to the bible and read the verses… several times. Going online I read
several sources as they picked apart the words and I tried to understand the meaning
behind it. And as dark and heart-wrenchingly sad as this Psalm is, in the end I
found comfort in that fact alone. It’s dark. It’s sad. It’s okay. Even biblical
writers felt completely alone.
The rest of her words hit me
harder than the Psalm. It’s okay to feel
the way you are sister! – In the past I have often been told that its okay
to feel sad, or to feel pain, or to be angry. But those feelings must be
temporary… fleeting. In the end there is always an expectation that those
feelings won’t last long enough to make anyone else uncomfortable, or to move
me into the status of ‘playing the victim’. It’s okay to feel those things, as
long as I’m not speaking about why I
feel those things… just that I do, because if I tell the whole truth, then I’m
somehow crazy, dramatic, vindictive, or looking for attention.
The next words she gave me were
such a relief as I felt the pain and the darkness, that at first I didn’t
really know how to react. You have been
so mistreated – disrespected – unloved. – Again, I’ve heard similar words
in the past, but never without a clause attached. You were mistreated BUT you
deserved it because you did this. Sure
he mistreated you, but you’re no saint either. - To see the words solidly
appear across my screen without a hesitation, a clause, or an exception took my
breath away.
Ten months ago, I opened up a folder from my husband’s satchel. Out of the folder fell a small bundle of papers… a chart of sorts. When they quite literally landed on my lap, I froze momentarily as the words appeared in front of my eyes. Names. Dates. Descriptions of incidents. Affairs. Too many to count; some of them unfamiliar, strangers; and others too familiar - former friends, acquaintances, and coworkers of his.
Now, to be fair. I already knew about
a couple of the incidents… one nine years ago, another five years ago, and one
just two years before finding his list. I also know, that throughout my life, I
have developed faults of my own, as well as unhealthy coping mechanisms to deal
with the difficult parts of life. I also accept that I chose to continue to
fight for my marriage, remaining two feet in and ready to heal and move forward…
believing that we were on the same page at the time.
Now, from my experience, I know
that there are generally two trains of thought that go along with this
decision: The first, is that because I chose to stay, I am a fool who brought
it on myself. The second is that I must have done something wrong to force him
into someone else’s arms… after all, I’m the one with the self-disclosed mental
illness.
And those two trains of thought
are why I’m choosing to share this now, after all of this time.
I’ve been with my husband for
nearly nineteen years now (coming up next week - December 20 - would be our fifteenth wedding anniversary).
Around eighteen years ago, I now know that my husband had his first affair,
dating all the way back to a friend from high school. Depending on how you’re reading this, it
might sound like I’m bitter or angry. But the reality is, that I’m sad… for
both of them, as well as for myself.
Because you see, I knew about it…
or at least I suspected that there was something... and I even questioned it. And while I truly believe
that my husband never set out to harm me through his actions; self-preservation
won out and I was told from the beginning that I was imagining things, that I
was making too big of a deal out of nothing, and simply that the signs that I saw
were in my head. He kept what actually happened a secret until this year… so
did she… and I truly believed that I had spent 18 years imagining things until I saw her name on
that list.
Eighteen years passed… similar
patterns became a part of our life. I questioned what I saw happening before my
eyes, and I was nearly driven into complete madness. I became the crazy-lady.
I was mentally ill, depressed and
full of rage that was never acknowledged nor allowed. Emotionally, I felt unable
to function properly, believing that my head was simply not normal, messed up,
or wired wrong.
When I whispered to a friend
after I confirmed the first affair that I knew about… nine years ago… I was
told to spice up our sex-life. I was told that I was holding onto too much anger.
I was told that he ‘seemed remorseful’ and that I was ‘too unstable’. Over the years I reached out to several people... seeking help, guidance, and at times simply a friend that I could talk to. The answers always seemed to ring with the same tone though:
- ‘Let it go’.
- ‘Don’t talk about it’.
Today, I take responsibility for
my behaviour, but I also want to hold up a sign and say STOP… my response was
unacceptable, damaging, and frightening for those closest to me… but why was
nobody around me asking me what happened? What hurts? Why are you in so much
pain that you are lashing out in this way?
This is the stigma that needs to
end the most.
We talk about ending stigma
surrounding mental illness on a regular basis. Depression and anxiety, bipolar,
even borderline personality disorder is becoming an okay topic to discuss… as
long as we are discussing the disorders themselves and not the experiences that
have led to these imbalances in our heads.
I want to clarify for a moment,
that I do not blame my husband for my mental illness or even for my choices to
stay in the relationship as long as I have… blame is suffocating and harmful,
not at all conducive to healing. However, I am learning that our experiences do
shape us and mould us into who we become and those experiences NEED to be
shared, spoken about, and brought out of the darkness - so that we are not
struggling alone.
So often, we don’t want to
discuss those horrible things that make people squirm. We don’t want to see
them cast their eyes downwards, or walk away, or tell us we’ve had enough time
and should be over the pain. Never heard, the pain eats us, until it manifests
in other ways. Addiction. Mental illness. Suicide. These are not the problem.
These are the symptoms. And until we’re comfortable talking about the physical
and/or sexual abuse that little Mikey faced as a child, we’ll never really be
able to help him get out of the cycle of addiction or understand why he wants
to escape the pain in the first place. If we never get comfortable speaking
about the pain of infidelity, betrayal, and emotional and mental manipulation,
we will never understand why Suzie decided to just give up and slice her wrists
open… believing that she isn’t worth the effort, and that her pain is not that bad... and of course her fault for choosing to stay.
And if we never talk about the constant bullying, and the shitty home life that
little Billy lives with, we’ll never be able to fully empathize with his
never-ending cycle of in-and-out from the psych ward and his inability to function within society.
This year, I made a commitment to
speak openly and with authenticity about the struggles that I face… and up
until now, I’ve been lying to you.
Because up until now, I took on
the entirety of blame and the excuses… I hid the nitty-gritty, mostly out of fear. I didn’t
want to embarrass my husband or ruin his life (I still don’t.), and I didn’t
want to hurt those who hurt me, or seem like I was using the past as blame for
our current situation. I didn't want the truth to get out as much as anyone else; I already felt like I had to hide my face.
I was conditioned to believe that
I didn’t have the right to share my story out of guilt, shame, embarrassment,
and fear.
Today I walk a very different
journey than ten months ago. Working to heal myself has been my priority, but
it looks different now that my shell has crumbled and I see a bigger image
around me.
Infidelity, and the betrayal that surrounded it within my life, and on
my particular journey… played a major role in my mental health issues, both my
actions and my reactions… and while I’m working on changing the familiar brain
patterns; to an extent, it still does affect me, and it probably will for a
while. And that’s not just okay… it’s normal.
Ten months ago. I was afraid to
say that. I believed that I always had to add in a stipulation. ‘Infidelity
affected me… but only because I
_________.’ or 'Infidelity affected me, but it was my fault for choosing to stay.'
Today I’m ending the stigma. I’m
not wallowing in self-pity, and I’m not living in the past or in blame. Today I am
reaching out to tell you that you are not alone. It’s okay to talk about it. It’s
okay to cry about it. It’s okay to not understand it at all, and to feel alone
and terrified and confused. It’s okay to not talk about it, but it’s also okay
to reach out. To let someone in. It's okay to not trust yourself. It's okay to feel confused. It's okay to feel nothing at all. It's okay to take your time.
Today I’m talking about the
damage that infidelity caused in my life... and I will continue to talk about the recovery process along my journey.
