I arrived at Survivor Infidelity 1 year ago June hurting at a level that I had not felt for 2 decades. Pain, I can handle, however it wasn’t the pain, it was, what was being masked by the pain, that got my attention.
I was angry, viscerally angry, nearly at the odium level type of anger. I am not used to "hate" type anger and feeling it was constricting and encaging my heart. I could feel the girth of my beating muscle shrinking with each pulse so it could fit in the constricting space within the growing hollow of my chest. And that "feeling" was creating a type and level of fear within me that I was unfamiliar with.
Oddly, I was not this angry at my wife’s choice or my friend’s choice to, hand in hand, kick me to the curb, as they stealthily chose the clandestine road of infidelity. Sure, I was angry, but more along the lines of disappointed, bewildered, shoved to the margins type of anger. What was rising within me last June of 2025 was hate level rage.
But there is a catch, I wasn’t feeling or directing any of the pain, anger, or fear that I was currently wrestling with towards my wife or my friend. I, Asterisk, was the intended target, the bullseye of a marksman’s aim. And I was clear-eyed about the target and in my early post shined a light on the self-directed arrows being shot by my own hand.
I could mentally see the forehead slapping going on behind SI’s veil due to my resistance to their wise advice. I know it was caring people, some gently, some with a 2x4, trying to get me to redirect my feelings to the original source - my wife and my best friend and their collective choice to cheat and betray. I kept pushing back, and far too many times poorly. So please give me another chance to explain.
Their affair was 33 years prior to June 2025, the year of my 2nd collapse. My wife and I had worked hard and over decades to sweep away the smoldering debris. We labored to find new materials and, with wiser hands, though with armature skills, we set out to rebuild a loving, caring, intimate, fun filled, joyful marriage. Not perfect, by any means, but something forged by fire into the strength of steal.
I am long past having open wounds and being deeply angry about the affair and all that came with it. I am not saying that there is no longer any pain or anger that, if I chose to, I could draw from. That well, runs deep. I am only explaining that the flame of pain that once brought to boil my anger is at a level that wouldn’t even warm a pot of chicken broth, on a cold winter afternoon.
I knew I was pissed, pissed at me, but I couldn’t identify why or how to fix it! And not being able to figure out why or find a fix was driving my self-directed anger directly into the core of who I am. But what brought my anger to the height of odium was that I was unintentionally hurting my wife, and, I maintain, she no longer deserves my ire.
She could see I was in deep turmoil and struggling at a level she hadn’t seen in decades. My wife was being forced to witness a long-ago, won battle that, for unknown reasons, I was, once again, engaged and slowly losing. And, because my wife knew she was the source of the original injury, she was absorbing the pain and anger. In a way, I was no different than many waywards’ here at SI, who, because they couldn’t get a proper grip on some broken part within, made bad choices. Choices that hurt the very ones they love.
Thanks for your patience. I am nearing the end.
The good news is that I did receive invaluable feedback that helped me to let go of the bowstring, lay down my arrows and archer’s bow and quiet my ruminating, murderous mind. Peace followed. Thanks everyone who went through the pain to reach a willing but stubborn mind. (2/4’s required)
Asterisk
