Tumeric

hurt and bleeding
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2010-05-12 13:48:30 (UTC)

Finding the truth.

I stumbled across a diary on here, a diary that my wife
wrote. I found out how she REALLY feels.
(http://www.my-diary.org/read/?read=184426)

It hurts pretty bad. She talks about how I go "out". She
didn't mention that the "out" is to the garage where I have
a small studio and that there is an intercom that she
constantly called me on. I made trips in and out, stopping
what I was doing to come get her a glass of water or fix
something for her to eat, etc... I talked to her about my
"projects" as she calls them, like I always have. When we
dated I was in a band and I talked to her about that stuff
then. My feelings about it, my excitement, my failure. I
thought that is the kind of thing that you did with your
spouse. I can't talk about her stuff unless she talks first.
She doesn't or didn't have a hobby at that time, so
television was her conversation point. I always tried,
still do. We are still together, even though she evidently
hates being with me. I didn't think I was that bad. I
don't drink, go out with friends, watch sports, or play
video games all day. I even put the cap back on the
toothpaste and put the toilet seat back down after I use it.

She mentions wanting to have an affair and how she would
never do that. Well, she did find a way to have another man
(2)and keep me. She asked for an open marriage, I said..
um, ok. 2 days later she was in a hotel room with another
guy.. all night. Then she met him a few other times, and
when he couldn't get together one night, she found another
guy and went to a close by lake and parked with him. She
made sure he was happy to say the least. Each guy was
younger than me one of them by 10 years. So here I am,
still married, hurting now even worse. I never took up the
opportunity to have sex with another woman. She was my 2nd
girlfriend and I married her. So, I've only been with 2
people in my life and the first was over 20 years ago. I
don't even remember anything about it. Her "others" were
just a couple years ago.

I just can't believe how stupid I am. How much I love
her and how badly this all hurts and she still, I am sure
feels about the same as she did when she wrote that diary.

I guess I am still here because she values me as a
father. She said in her diary that I am not a good one.
That sucks because I have always prided myself in my
parenting. Not a perfect parent, but a good father. I love
my girls more than life. I get up with them everyday to get
them ready for school, she sleeps in. I am up on the
weekends, she sleeps in. I am up and outside during the
days they are out so I can watch them, play with them, or
whatever... she sleeps. She can be an amazing mother when
she wants to be. That's one reason I married her. I saw her
with her nieces and nephews. She was brilliant. Now, I see
she hates me and thinks everything that I thought was fine
is a complete failure.

I don't know what to do. I have no friends to talk to. I
just got my license after a decade of not driving. Oh, I
have a severe seizure disorder that I have struggled with
this in entire time. I have recently gotten a VNS implant
that has basically "cured" me. One year w/out seizures.
That's amazing, because I was having 3 to 30 a day before.

Last April (2009) I was in a coma for 3 days because of a
severe seizure episode. That's why I decided to get the
implant. Glad I did.


So, her I am. Stuck with her words bouncing around in my
head and the images of her having sex with other men
floating right there with them. I still hang on, somehow.
I don't know how she convinced me that the "open" marriage
thing was a great idea... but she did. If I even talk to a
woman she is jealous, so I don't know what that's about. I
am stuck now with her being able to say... "We both agreed
to it, so you can't say I cheated." I am here, empty, a
shell of what I was. My children are the only reason I have
for living. I am dying for a friend, a true friend that I
can talk to and bitch with. I wish she could be that
friend... but evidently she despises me.


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