December 6, 2014

Today marks the sixth anniversary of the day the wheels fell off.

We usually try to have a few days away at this time of the year but things haven’t worked out this year so we’re at home. Without the distractions of being in a foreign place, I’m struggling a bit.

I’m repeating my usual mantra of “Let it go, it doesn’t matter” and telling myself that this is not the worst thing that could happen to a person.
Comparing my lot to that of those in other parts of the world, I have nothing to complain about.
I am lucky and privileged to have been born where I was.
My husband is remorseful.

Get over it, already!


June 13, 2014


Earlier this week I had some moments of sheer, absolute happiness.  It’s been a long time since I experienced that feeling and I wish I could bottle it and bring it out to lift me on dark days.  In fact – I wish I could give each of you a shot of it!

My husband wasn’t involved; I was walking in the forest on a sunny day with my friend’s dog.  Grassy paths, pine cones crunching underfoot in the shaded areas, sunshine, birdsong and a happy dog – it was bliss.  If I was a religious person, I’d have said God was there in that moment.

Dogs have something to show us about just living in the moment.

I can honestly say that this is the first time I’ve felt this way since discovering what my husband had been doing abroad and since the diagnosis of my health problems.

If I’ve learned something from the last five years it’s that I can survive most things and, though I love my husband dearly, I could be happy without him or any other man in my life.

Another door closes . . .

March 22, 2013

It’s taken just over four years but recently I’ve been feeling so much better.  Instead of going three steps forward and one back, which I’ve been doing for the last few years, it now feels like our progress is clear of those retrograde steps.

I’m not foolish enough to believe that it’s all going to be sunshine and butterflies for evermore but I’ll enjoy the bright days while we have them and we’re both now better equipped to deal with the rainy ones.

Mentions of That Place no longer inspire feelings of rage within me and I can look at women of That Race without being reduced to a snivelling jelly.

Yesterday I went through all the drawers and shelves and removed all the infidelity related literature we’d acquired during our recovery.  I phoned the local counselling service where we’d had our first sessions and asked if they’d like to have these  books to pass on to other people.  And then I got in the car and took them there.

We still have some issues to work on within our marriage but it finally feels like we can close the door on that particular episode.

Just realised something . . .

March 12, 2013

The fourth anniversary of the day my world fell apart, aka D-day #1,  came and went over a week ago, totally un-noticed and unremembered by me until today.

This is a good thing.

A wee moment of sunshine

March 12, 2013

Eventually, after all the infidelity crap and the pain, you wake up one day and find that things feel a whole lot better.

This kinda sums it up for me.


2012 in review

December 31, 2012

The stats helper monkeys prepared a 2012 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

600 people reached the top of Mt. Everest in 2012. This blog got about 4,000 views in 2012. If every person who reached the top of Mt. Everest viewed this blog, it would have taken 7 years to get that many views.

Click here to see the complete report.

One day I’ll be able to laugh at such coincidences

October 20, 2012

Had a lengthy visit to the dentist this morning, not something I enjoy but a necessary evil.

My dentist had a new nurse working for her today.  She was perfectly competent – but had the same nationality and name as my husband’s first whore.

Luckily for my husband, the appointment ran over by quite some time and he had a lengthy wait for me.  I told him that as he’d already suffered I wouldn’t be kneeing him in the balls. And I was only half joking when I said that!

He’s currently skulking around the house somewhere  and I am gasping for coffee, which I can’t have until my face thaws out.

Guilt and forgiveness

October 8, 2012

“Forgiveness does not change the past, but it does enlarge the future.”    
   Paul Boese

Quite early on, I decided to forgive my husband.  I knew I had to if our marriage was going to continue.  For us, the alternative was that we self-combusted under the pressure of guilt on one side and recriminations on the other.

In the early days, forgiveness was a conscious, intellectual posture.  While I could understand the reasons behind his behaviour and wanted to forgive, it still hurt worse than anything in my life to date and I carried a lot of anger and pain.

In the last few months I’ve come to realise that I’ve actually forgiven him on an emotional level too.  While I can never forget his actions during those three months of madness, I can rationalise his behaviour and feel compassion for the lost man he was. I am no longer angry.

In hindsight I can see that his behaviour and attitudes towards me during the months following D-day were largely coloured by guilt and not, as I thought, by indifference to me. While he was feeling terrified of losing me, I was putting his inability to communicate down to him comparing me unfavourably with the young women he used.

Yesterday morning we ended up having a conversation around these matters.  I’ve been a lot happier recently, despite my health not being wonderful, and I realised that because I’m not showing misery and unhappiness, he has actually now started to believe that he is forgiven.

I jokingly said that he’s 99% forgiven – because I want the 1% to be a reminder to him that I won’t tolerate infidelity another time.  He laughed and said that he won’t be going there again. 

 I asked if he’d manage to forgive me if the situation had been reversed and he said he would. Then I asked if he’d forgiven himself.  He said he’d never forgive himself for what he did and would regret his actions to the end of his days.

This bears out my theory that good men sometimes do bad things but since I’ve forgiven him and he’d forgive me, I hope he’ll eventually be able to give himself that gift.

It’s amazing . . . . .

September 8, 2012

. . . .  how much better one feels after a few nights of pain-free, proper sleep.

Those painkillers do weird things to my brain and now I’m not having to take them, I’m a much happier bunny – and I’m even enjoying my husband again.

I did consider taking down the last whine-fest post but I won’t.  That was last week’s reality.  The truth is that following infidelity, life is never the same.  Feelings still go up and down, despair still occasionally visits.

But life is better than it was and it is mostly good.


August 24, 2012

Earlier this week I’d been doing a big supermarket shop and having put everything in the boot, decided to text my son before driving home.  As I was sitting there in the car, someone else parked directly alongside.  Slightly odd, I thought, since the carpark wasn’t busy and she had a choice of several other spaces which weren’t immediately beside a parked car.  Oh well, it’s a free country etc.

You can imagine I was pretty annoyed when I heard – and felt – the impact when she  opened the driver’s door onto the side of my car.  I got out and walked round to the other side of the car to inspect the damage and found a big scrape in the surface of the paintwork.

“Is there something wrong?” she asked, in a nasty tone of voice.

“Yes” I replied, “You just damaged my car when you opened your door”.

“Well I didn’t do it on purpose” she huffed unpleasantly, before stalking off towards the supermarket.

Several days later I’m still cross.

If she’d apologised or shown any small sign of contrition, I’d have accepted it and forgotten it.

If she’d admitted her clumsiness or confessed to having problems with her arm or something, I’d have excused it and moved on, filing it under  shit happens, get over it.

Instead of which, I’m still fuming and mulling over in my mind all the things I should’ve/could’ve said at the time.  I’m ashamed to admit I fleetingly thought about opening the door of my own car onto hers and inflicting similar damage.  Or telling her that her clothes were far too young for her age, which they absolutely were, and that her obvious years of smoking and sundamage hadn’t done much for her face. It might have given me some fleeting satisfaction but I’d have regretted giving in to nastiness before the words left my mouth.  My mother brought us up to understand that two wrongs do not make a right and that sort of behaviour only diminishes yourself.

Yes, I know scraped paintwork isn’t the end of the world. It’s pathetically inconsequential stuff compared to the ructions infidelity causes.

BUT – if she’d apologised it would have made all the difference.

The parallel I’m eventually getting to  is that healing and moving on is a damn sight easier when the other person expresses remorse.


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