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Keep your pants on!…

Just wanted to drop in quickly with a note saying I haven’t forgotten about the blog, I’ve just been having a tough time getting my youngest daughter’s sleep schedule fixed. She’s been sleeping all day and up all night.

I had to rectify that by laying in bed with her and put one ear bud in each of our ears and listen to music with our eyes closed. A nice time, but hopefully it did the trick!

I’ve got an idea for an interesting entry that I will try to write at work tomorrow and upload from the wordpress app. Thanks for your patience.

Making monsters…

Well, it was a positively awful day yesterday. My wife had the day off. Honestly I was looking forward to being able to spend some time together, and it was a nice evening right up until the end when it turned into a total disaster.

The biggest problem she has in our marriage is that when I don’t consider something important or “a big deal” I tend not to pay attention and just forget it.

This leads to situations like last night when she realized I’d forgotten to give the dog a bath after she asked me to do so almost a week ago, as well as a few other but similar things. I don’t forget stuff to be mean or anything, but more because I don’t care about it.

I know that one needs to be truly present and invested in a relationship, and part of that is listening to your partner about what is important to them. My wife is a very busy person, and she takes it as a slap in the face when I don’t value the things she needs me to do the same way that she does.

We got into a big fight about it because she was yelling and I felt attacked. I know she had a point but yelling is not the way to communicate information to me. Of course, during this yelling she brought up divorce and how I hadn’t even been trying to keep my word about changing.

Now, mark my words, I thought I had been doing pretty well. I was sincerely trying to listen and communicate, and to be more patient and considerate. Evidently I’m still a bastard with no value who brings nothing to the family.

She was saying how sad she was to have given up her friendship with the couple she had sex with and that I wasn’t worth losing them. Then she went on about how I blame all her affairs on her BPD when in fact she does it because she feels neglected and wants attention and doesn’t care if it hurts me because I’m not worth NOT hurting because I contribute nothing to the marriage.

She went on go say that she didn’t think it had to be this way and she’d be glad to be faithful if I gave her a husband worth being faithful to.

Through all of this madness i’ve always had the comfortable old shoe of her Borderline Personality Disorder to take the blame so that she can remain, in my mind, a good person who made a bad decision based in a mental Illness.

Without that what is she? Only a monster stays with someone and cheats on them when they aren’t happy in a relationship and doesn’t give a fuck because they don’t value the person they cheated on. Why would she stay in that case, why not go?

Am I just a glorified babysitter like she called me last night? Am I a coward and a fool for staying? I’m committed to hanging around for another year to get her through school because that will be best for the kids.

What then though? Should I just try to earn her love and make it work? Earn her love again so one day I can just leave and hurt her? That seems appealing right now.

Should I let this woman and this marriage make me a monster too?

Well, things have been going very well lately, all things considered. We’ve been communicating and spending time together just talking about what happened and moving on with our marriage.

I promise, dear reader, that I’ll always be honest with you even when the truth is ugly. Well, my wife and I have decided to hold off on counseling since she is starting school soon and will be doing that while working full-time. We will see how things go and see if we feel we need it after she finishes school in a year, but right now we are just going to try to lovingly communicate our needs and problems with each other.

I haven’t told her yet, but I intend to, that any further slip-ups will destroy our family for good. There will be no more understanding and empathy from me.

Anyways, like I said, things have been going quite well, though even this pattern is old hat by now. Things always go well directly after shit hits the fan. This isn’t my first rodeo.

In addition to her Borderline Personality Disorder, my wife also has hypoglycemia, which basically means that if her blood sugar slips below a certain threshold she will basically look and feel like a mean drunk and act irrationally. The problem is that she eats fairly irregularly and often finds herself in this state.

So she wakes up this afternoon after her shift at work and she starts browning ground beef for hamburger helper for her breakfast/the kid’s supper. While browning the meat she looks in the pantry for the hamburger helper box that she SWEARS she bought and nobody else has seen. Not being able to see it, she starts getting angry and frantic and I can already tell what is going on.

I can always tell by the glazed eyes, the paranoia, and the ridiculous amounts of anger over petty things when she hasn’t eaten. Immediately she starts accusing me of having cooked her Hamburger Helper while she was at work and eating it (I’m a vegetarian). When I fail to either admit to eating it or pull it out of my ass via magic, she starts to blame our children, neither of whom knows how to cook or would attempt to do so.

Well, I’m an amicable fellow and I know what she really needs right now is simply some carbohydrates in her system and she’ll be right as rain. I offer to cook anything we have for her, I offer any sort of drink she may want, all to no avail. When she gets like this she will refuse to eat anything but the item she originally set out to cook and will just kept getting meaner and more incoherent as she gets hungrier.

I agree that this is foolishness and childish, but I also know that she isn’t in her right mind in this state. In an attempt to end this mess I go on a prolonged search all over the house, just in case the box got misplaced somehow. When that doesn’t work I check the car in case she left it there. When that doesn’t work I repeat both these steps twice to no effect.

So now my kids are crying because she is yelling and being cruel, making wild accusations. I see her on her Facebook, chatting with a woman she’d met via Okcupid (a free dating site) while all this is going on. Later, after she had gone to work I checked her chat logs and she was saying how her marriage was close to ending and what an ass I was and such.

Now, I did lose my temper and swear at her when she was throwing about insane accusations at the children and I, and I understand that that isn’t the right thing to do in this situation. However, we’ve been making real strides this past week, and I thought that as baby-steps go, they had been good ones. I was rather surprised she had said that on Facebook, because not an hour later we were cuddling in the living room and having a nice evening.

Eventually she made something else to eat and was quickly back to her old self, and she got things with the children and I soothed down. Later on, as I laid in bed with her and rubbed her head before she took a bit of a nap before work, we had a talk about how she can’t control herself in these situations and, in the future, I just need to take the kids outside to play for a while so she can get ahold of herself. Probably a wise idea.

For any young people out there who may be reading this I’d like you to understand that you can’t fix someone, even if you love them. Self-determination, professional help, a legitimate desire to heal, these things can, perhaps, fix someone. Maybe.

Realistically, they may only get worse and worse until you can’t bare to be around them anymore. The best advice I can offer anyone thinking of getting attached permanently to someone with mental illness is to think very carefully. Sleep on it. Think very carefully again, then just slap yourself for wasting the past two days and don’t get attached to a mentally ill person who doesn’t acknowledge their problem and get help. Both you and them will just end up hating you.

I assume, gentle reader, that you have seen the music video “Thriller”, by the late and dearly missed Michael Jackson? I honestly believe it to be the pinnacle of what music videos could hope to accomplice.

So there is that great meta-scene where Michael and his date are at the movies watching alternate-universe Michael and his date awkwardly suffering through the ol’ “running out of gas” gag deep in the woods one night. Of course, Michael being Michael, and Michael being a werewolf, he flips the fuck out and kills her as werewolves will do.

The point to all this is that Thriller is awesome, and that I made it a point to make sure it was the first music video either of my children ever saw. The other point is that there is a scene where Michael tells his date “I’m not like other guys…”.

No shit, Mike? You don’t say? I’ve long thought that was like the greatest understatement of the 20’th century.

No, Michael, you assuredly are NOT like the other fellows.

And, apparently, neither am I for that matter. You see, my wife has made an agreement with me that she can stay away from other men, as long as I finally accept that she is bisexual and would like to be able to date women.

Now this is no surprise to me as she’s always, through all of her indiscretions, been exceedingly and painfully honest with me. I just sort of hoped that she would get swept up in the tides of a career and motherhood and kinda sorta let that “attracted to women” bullshit fall by the wayside.

No such luck, I’m afraid. The bell has tolled for me, and it is high time I accept this aspect of her. I truly and honestly am for full and equal civil rights for all citizens regardless of race, religion, or political and sexual orientation. I’ve found, however, when your wife drags the issues of  bisexuality into your home and your life that it can be a bit more complex then the heady, academic idea of equality than I had always thought of.

I understand that she is what nature has made her, and I love her. Loving her means having to accept who she is, and therein lies the rub. See, I’m just not comfortable with her having a girlfriend.

It isn’t the bisexuality aspect, at all. To me, the thing that hurts about infidelity is the emotional aspect. I don’t particularly care if one meatbag sticks it’s dangling genitalia into another consenting meatbag. What has hurt me about her past infidelities is the emotional bond and the obsessions she forms with these people and the sense of betrayal I feel, and that will happen in a same-sex relationship just as much as it would a heterosexual one.

“Ah, darkhorserunning,” you say, “you have a penis and testicles! Dudes dream about their wife being with another woman! This is the best thing that could happen to you!”. My wife has certainly said this to me, using other words of course.

Slow your roll there, Cowpoke. I do, in fact, have male equipment, but that doesn’t mean I’m cool with this. I may be an Atheist and not believe in any eternal punishment, but I know what I want out of a relationship and what I feel is right and wrong.

I simply don’t want my partner to be interested in anyone else, male or female. Maybe that means “I’m not like other guys” because I don’t think it would be awesome for my wife to have sex and potentially fall in love with someone else.

Am I the only warm-blooded heterosexual male out there who wouldn’t slam a beer and high-five my bros before continuing our game of Call of Duty because my wife wants to be with women?

Maybe I’m not like other guys then. I’ve told her that  a lot of normal guys wouldn’t give a damn about your mental illness that makes you fuck around on them with anyone who pays attention to you and would get a divorce forthwith.

She says that the emotions she would feel with a woman are different than the ones she feels for me. I don’t know if she honestly is insane enough to believe her own bullshit or if she is just totally detached from reality. Emotions are emotions. The love I feel for vegetarian chicken nuggets is essentially the same love I feel for the main theme from Super Mario Bros.

But accept her I will. Because accepting the people you love for who they are is almost always the right thing to do. I shall accept her, and support her, and bide my time until the horrible truth finally crashes upon her like the sea does the shore that she loves whatever woman she eventually meets more than she loves me, and that she can no longer deny the fact that she is a complete and total lesbian.

She is likely starting cosmetology school in the fall. Though she makes decent money in her current career she has always wanted to be a hairdresser and we both would like her to get a job that doesn’t make her work all night long.

The class is 10 months long and I am assuming that there may be a 2-5 month adjustment period once she graduates while she finds work and starts to accumulate a clientele.  She will likely be working at least part-time during her schooling so even she admits she won’t really have much time to start a relationship with a woman until she is done. I shall use that time to my utmost advantage.

I know now the horrible truth, that the end is inexorably from this point on. No amount of love nor luck will stop her wandering. This isn’t my first rock concert, and I know how this song ends.

I have slightly over a year to start forging a new life for myself apart from her. First, I must redouble my efforts at weight-loss as I don’t want to be alone forever. Second, I MUST LEARN TO DRIVE as it is an essential skill for an independent adult that you are expected to have by other independent adults. Third and perhaps most importantly, I have to learn to just abide and not define myself by my marriage to her.

I am overweight. I am undereducated. I am quick to anger sometimes. I am, honestly, a bit of a coward. I make little money and have very few resources. I am, in one years’ time, likely going to be a part-time dad. I’m a lot of negative shit.

One thing I am not, however, is dead. As long as blood pumps in these veins, as long as I don’t lower my standards and settle for less than what I need from a partner, I know that I won’t be alone forever. I will be 32 shortly, but if I’m 52 before I meet someone who will be as focused on me as I am on them, it will have been worth the wait and damn anyone who disagrees.

I don’t believe that much in this crazy, mixed-up world is black & white. I’ve found one undeniable truth in this life, and that comes courtesy of the arguably made-up person of William Shakespeare:

” To thine own self be true, and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man.”

Fuckin’ A, man. Fuckin’ A.

Well, my wife has decided to cut ties with the people she had an affair with and try to work it out. This brings with it a host of concerns.  She claims to be very lonely now since she doesn’t know any other Pagans besides the two who she agreed to cut contact with, and it is causing a lot of resentment toward me.

I told her time and again that if she was not 100% accepting of the terms I offered her that she might as well just side with them, call our marriage a day,  and let everyone get on with their lives. I don’t feel that my terms were beyond the pale if she wished to try to fix our marriage, and honestly I feel like I capitulated quite a bit from my original position.

We both knew going forth that this would be difficult and would require compromise, love, and understanding on both of our parts. To be quite frank, I’m already a bit tired of this resentment. I feel that any reasonable person who had done what she has done would naturally expect to have to cut ties with the person they had an affair with if they wished to save their marriage. I’m not exactly asking her to carve a scarlet “A” into her chest and walk through the town square nude, all the while carrying a sign saying “I am a whore. STONE ME!”.

Yet I find myself, the one who was cheated on, begging for us to just forget the whole thing happened so hopefully we can just go on with our lives and not have all these awkward, angry bouts of resentment.

I just don’t get it. It seems that the person who committed the infraction should be the one doing all the begging and feeling guilty and work.

I just wish this whole stupid situation could come to an end so I could get back to being worried about the stupid shit that a person with no major problems has the luxury of worrying about. Do you have ANY idea how big the backlog of games on my phone is? That shit needs to be organized into categorized folders, you know!

Believe you me, I’d much rather find myself squandering my spare moments on obsessing about video games and internet tomfoolery, or having waterbaloon fights with the kids than this tedious soap opera garbage.

I like to think that I’m a fairly simple fellow with simple tastes. If I want to be in a relationship with you, and you want to be in one with me, well that’s awesome and we should totally have a relationship. I won’t promise that it will always be great, but I’m not the type of person who expects perfection from a partner.

Maybe some people feel like they need drama like this or else life is too boring or “not important enough” or something. In my estimation a relationship should be your aegis and shelter from the harshness life may bring.

Tonight she was giving me the song and dance again about how it wasn’t fair for me to ask her to remove the offending parties from her life because they, as fellow Pagans, were so important to her. I told her something to the effect of if their friendship, and the Pagan community it represents, were so important to her then she really shouldn’t have gone the extra mile to sexualize the situation and make it all weird and awkward for everyone and then be all surprised that it was indeed weird and awkward.

I told her the best advice I could give her insofar as future friendships and religious affiliations was the ol’ chestnut “Don’t shit where you eat”. Crude, but I think it illustrates my point. You might also say “Don’t dip your pen in the company ink”, or “Don’t screw the chick drummer” depending on your situation.

The colloquialisms may be different, but the idea is the same, if something is very important to you than you shouldn’t drag your self-destructive bullshit tendencies into it and screw everything up for yourself.

So, as you go about your day, gentle reader, I ask you to honestly examine your actions and motivations whenever a situation begs for a moment of consideration. Are you shitting where you eat ?

So, today is a big holiday for my wife the Pagan. It is “Litha” which is a ( inaccurate) celebration of the summer solstice. Before all hell broke loose and she had that threesome she was planning on going to that couple’s house to celebrate the holiday.

She is still flip-flopping about whether she wants to stay and go to counseling and try to work things out, which I’ve told her one of the boundaries would be she would need to cut all contact with these people, or will she pursue a relationship with this couple and file for separation/divorce.

I know what I want, which is to patch things up because I think our relationship did have some VERY real flaws and I honestly think it is something we could fix with counseling. Plus it would be best for the kids, which has to be my primary concern right now.

At the end of the day, though, I’m just excited that the holiday may force her into a decision. If she goes over there, I told her explicitly that she is implicitly showing me her choice. Conversely, I told her if she stays home with me and the kids tonight I’d be more than happy to occupy them so she could have a ceremony at her home alter and we could pass a pleasant evening and maybe try to get to know each other again.

 

Either way a path shall be chosen, a choice shall be made, a line shall be drawn in the sand, and insert stupid line here…

There is nothing like being left alone again, to walk peacefully with oneself in the woods. To boil one’s coffee and fill one’s pipe, and to think idly and slowly as one does it.
– K. Hamsun

A quote is a silly thing. To take someone else’s  genius, their knack for language, and carry it around in your mind like some kind of totem or idol. We all do it. I suppose truly great writers have the ability to communicate in a way that us plebes down in the mud can only dream of, covet, and admire.

I saw the line I quoted above  about a week ago and I felt it like a punch in the stomach. It’s still there, too. I just struggle to take in the beauty of it all at once. The idea it conveys is so simple and rustic, was once so common to the human experience, I wonder why we would ever care to progress beyond it.

To live so simply and peacefully, I think it must be the only good way.

If I can ever, when I reach a ripe old age and my children have grown, find myself on a crisp fall day in the shadowed woods of  the Vermont of my boyhood, with the leaves just burning with their last bit of glory, I could leave everything behind and just let the moment swallow me whole.

See, if you can only find some moments in your life that you do not share with anyone, where it is just you and you alone, and be content with your own company, your own secrets and flights of fancy, why that right there is the closest thing to Heaven I’ve ever felt.

Seek those moments and keep them deep inside. Let them be your sword and shield against the world. Friends may betray you, lovers may deceive you, and in all likelihood you will grow old to become an embarrassment and burden to your own children.

As long as you are lucid, as long as your brain can function properly, you can just hold on those moments and just abide.

Yesterday was the day my wife was supposed to tell me her big decision on whether to stay with me and go to counseling, to try to make an honest effort at finding a way to go forward together or to finally call it quits so she can pursue a relationship with this couple.

Perhaps not surprisingly she claims to need more time.

It has been a long, tedious day this Father’s day. Perhaps I should explain the news of the day since my last entry. Shortly after my previous post, but before my wife came home from work,  I thought perhaps it would be wise to snoop through her Facebook messages.

Call me a creep if you want, but we’ve always maintained an open email policy where we are both free to read the others’ stuff at any time. Let my experience be a lesson and a warning, however:

Just because you can do something, does not mean it is in your personal best interest to do something.

The nigh Lovecraftian horrors I witnessed then set me to reeling. It is, indeed, an awful and terrible thing you see the person you have loved your whole adult life writing to someone else as they have written to you.

To see her coquettishly exchanging with these people, as freely and in as good spirits as if it were the rightest and most natural thing in the world, filled me with both rage and a profound sadness. As a man who has experienced such frequent infidelity in his marriage, I am not easily moved by it anymore. However, this time it was as some uncomfortable peek behind closed doors at things I was never meant to see.

I am not easily moved to outwardly express my emotions, and perhaps that is one of the deeper issues in our marriage, but I could not help myself this time. I threw the keyboard on the floor and closed Facebook, lest my oldest daughter wander in and see her mothers’ handiwork.

Not entirely to my surprise given the hour and the racket my foolishness had made, my oldest daughter was entering the room as I was tearfully trying to leave. She asked me why I was crying, and I told her I didn’t want to talk about it and had to return to bed.

The children make these events so much more complicated. Were it not for them, I think that first infidelity all those years ago would have been enough for me to leave.

Early Saturday morning, when my wife first came home from her night of iniquity, my youngest daughter was awake as she has taken her summer break from school as an opportunity to completely screw up her sleep schedule.

At five years old, even though she was in her bedroom as we were discussing what had happened at the dining room table, she heard me saying that I was leaving, that this was the final straw. She came out to the dining room, of course in tears, begging me not to go and not to stop being her daddy.

How could I be expected to say no to that? Any resolve I had to leave my wife’s madness was instantly destroyed. In all of the sturm und drang going on, I was reminded by seeing her tear-streaked face that I had to be a Father first and foremost. That being there for my girls had to come before any feelings of pride or revenge.

Flash forward to this morning and now both of my children had seen and been effected by the results of my wife’s foolhardy decisions and their results were echoing all through our family.

So, here I sit, still awaiting her decision. I feel torn between wanting to fix our marriage, and feel shamed and ridiculous for begging someone I view essentially as a whore to love me again since I still love her in some sick way.

I feel forced to stay to try to provide a stable childhood for my children. Not that I am a man of means with a lot of options of places to go, but I’m sure if I were to ask that my parents would let me move in. The fact that I wouldn’t see my daughters as often as I do now given my transportation issues,  though my parents are 10 minutes down the road, needs be perhaps the heaviest consideration when deciding my future choices.

I just wish she would decide something, even to break my heart and end us for good, as long as it was a definite and permanent decision. She goes through phases where she will try to interact with me as if all is well and normal, trying to cuddle in bed or talking of frivolous things like planned family day-trips. Then there are times when she utters forth such cold-hearted venom that even Hell would shudder.

Something has to give, eventually. If she has not decided for good and all in a few day’s time I may have to force her hand and make the decision for her. I find her waffling on the issue to be intolerably cruel. I pass the days in what seems like some dreary fog, waiting for the sword of Damocles to drop at any moment and for my family to be torn asunder.  As Cicero said; “… there can be nothing happy for the person over whom some fear always looms”.

Well, I guess I’ve made enough of a spectacle of myself for today. I shall update tomorrow morning with the news of the day.  Thank you again for your time, dear reader.  Be careful who you share yourself with out there.

Fat man, little boy…

I’m a man in his early thirties, married for a decade and a father of two young girls.

My life is falling to pieces and I have nobody to share this with. I’ve long thought of starting a blog, and since popular media shows us that people are more interested in failure than success I thought this would be a fine time to do so.

The details as to why my life is falling apart are not uncommon. They could be anyone’s details. Married young, children young, lack of education and opportunity, a man and his wife growing apart. The song has remained the same for generations.

My wife and I have had a tenuous relationship at best for most of our 10 years of marriage. Sure, we started out strong in our love, but as oft happens the myriad pressures of child care,  bills, and the gulf of years have pulled us in opposite directions.

Please, bare with me while I go into tedious detail about the both of us:

I, the passionate Atheist with a completely science-based worldview, have what many would consider a rather conservative moral compass. I do not believe my morals come from any superior being, but I also believe that life is marked by the things you choose to give meaning to.

I don’t judge people based on race, wealth, sexuality, or creed. I try not to judge people at all, though I suffer the same pitfalls as anyone else might. In short, you do not need to follow my morality, or any morality for that matter, but I must do what I feel is proper without deviation.

I’ve been called a bit of a boyscout.

My wife is a Pagan. She identifies most with the “Wicca” philosophy of nature worship. I guess most folk would call that “Witchcraft”. Don’t be alarmed, though. I’m sure by this point in the 21’st century you know that real Witches are far from the witches of popular culture.

She is a very “free spirit” I guess you would say, and bisexual. This is not a bad thing necessarily, but when coupled with her having a condition known as “Borderline Personality Disorder” basically it means that she gets attached to and obsessed with anybody, male of female, that gives her attention.

Her condition dictates that however she was feeling about me when she last saw me is, in her mind, how she has always felt about me since we first met and how she will feel about me in perpetuity. This, coupled with our tumultuous marriage and the fact that she claims to not like monogamy (a late discovery on her part), has accounted for four distinct affairs on her part. The last of which was two days ago and involved a couple she had met a month prior. This couple are also Wiccans, and this is extremely seductive to her as kindred spirits are rare, indeed, around here.

I do not claim to be a perfect, or even a good, husband. I can be immature, petty, and paranoid. I obsess over finances and try to control uncontrollable things.  I am quick to anger as well, though I like to think that I am also quick to calm.

In short, I do not  blame her dalliances on her moral character. I understand that mental illness is real, and requires empathy and constant vigilance on the part of the sufferer’s spouse.

I freely admit my faults as a husband, father and a human. This must be understood if any good is to come of what I shall try to relate in the course of this blog.

So, after this latest affair we have talked about whether to separate or work on things. Immediately after coming home from the event, she confessed and was apologetic, as she always is. She talks of suicide and how she just looses control sometimes, usually she says it is because I’ve ignored her.

I, as always, talk her down from the edge. Usually, when confronted with the horror of what she’s done, I secretly wish she would make good of her threats and save us all a lot of heartache.

I try not to entertain such childish thoughts for long. It just isn’t conducive to trying to save the marriage and our family. I told her, if she was legitimately sorry, that she would have to get tested for STD’s and cut contact with this couple.

Since the “unpleasantness” happened she has been waffling between wanting a divorce since I am apparently a controlling bastard who makes her desperately unhappy and basically FORCED her to have an affair and trying to work this out, though she oddly enough refuses to get an STD test because it makes her feel like a whore and she also wants to maintain a friendship with this couple.

The thing is, I don’t understand how I am “ignoring” her. When we have time off of work together we spend it largely together. Often I’ll cook a favorite dish of hers, make some coffee, and we’ll watch her favorite shows since she usually is not home late at night to see them.

Honestly, if I had my choice we wouldn’t be sitting down complacently watching television, but perhaps over the years we had settled into a silent habit that neither of us recognized from so short a distance.

So, we’ve talked about finally consulting a marriage councilor. Seems a bit late in the ball game, but better late than never, I say. I’ve left her a note detailing my thoughts on the situation we’ve gotten ourselves into, and a link to a well-regarded therapist in our area who seems to specialize in all the areas I’d think we would need help in.

I find myself in a  unenviable state. With one breath I see her as a wicked whore who offers herself to any person willing to talk to her with no aim but hurting me. With the other breath I see a young woman suffering from an extremely debilitating mental illness, who also happens to be the woman I still have some semblance of love for, and is also the mother of my beloved children.

Forgiving an affair is nothing for me, I’ve done it so many times. Not to say I’m happy about it by any means. To me, love can only exist between two people. Monogamy provides the safest and most stable environment in which to live and raise children.

Make no mistake, a cheating spouse breaks your heart. After the first few affairs I was inconsolable. I thought the world was ending. I thought it was my fault, and in many ways she has thoroughly convinced me that it still is.

The funny thing about repeated infidelity is, if you wake up in Hell every day eventually you get used to the view.

So, here is the central theme of the blog:

If she accepts my entreaty to go to counseling and work things out I shall continue the blog in secret and detail the path our marriage and lives follow.

We will go to counseling and I will make an honest attempt to learn to be a better communicator and all-around husband.

If, as I half fear and half hope, she refuses my offer of reconciliation I am embarking on an effort to change everything about myself and my life.

I shall endeavor to get down to a healthy weight, learn about my self, and learn to be an independent adult. I went straight from my mother’s house to being married and I do not know how to do a whole host of things a human my age know how to do.

I have never had a bank account, as my wife has always done the finances.

I do not know how to drive, as early on in our marriage we could afford to send one of us to driving school and she opted to go. She has thereafter done all the driving in our marriage and I do not even have a license.

That last fact is pathetic in the extreme, I know. Please do not think this has been a square deal for me, though. Think about how powerless you would feel if you did not have the boon of easy transportation.

Whether she accepts or denies my efforts at fixing our marriage, I’m going to have to learn a whole host of new life skills.

I’d like to invite you, gentle reader, to share this journey with me on whichever road it may lead.

I’m sorry if this post seems rambling. I am no practiced writer, and I have little experience with the written word other than the normal exposure anyone with my background and education might have.

Now that the basic facts have been laid down, I do intend to make my posts more concise whenever possible. Thank you for your time.

A blog detailing a man trying to pick up the pieces left by a failing marriage by losing weight, discovering himself, learning to drive, and becoming an Independent adult for the first time.

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