Hi again PNash. Admittedly I have not read any of the other posts as I'm still strapped for time this weekend but I wanted to get back to you and I'm sure your getting good advice here.
From one BC to another, you have to tell your father. Tell him it was you that sent to emails. Tell him everything. DO NOT go to your mother first. She will try and do damage control, blame shift, and possibly gas light you. The fact is your mother can't be trusted right now.
Back to your father. You have to have to tell him. I did and it was probably one of, if not the hardest things I've ever had to do. No father wants to get that information from one of their kids. At the same time, you have information that he has every right to know. If you don't tell him and he finds out later that you know as well, that's just another betrayal for him. You have to do what is right. Expose the affair starting with your father.
You CANNOT worry about the what if's. If you expose the affair then your mom and this other guy get together. Fact is no one knows for absolute certain what is going to happen. But what I can tell you from experience is that when you expose, fantasy meets reality and all the shit that has been going on suddenly really smells bad. All parties crash down to earth into that shit pile. Once it's exposed it's almost impossible for them to carry on and if they do keep carrying it on, then they are terribly self absorbed and look terrible for carrying it on.
My aunt also helped my mother in her affair. Yes it caused many problems but at least I dealt with them.
You cannot keep this to yourself. In my experience secrets do lots more damage than if the truth was out there. In fact, secrets can sometimes kill which was my brother's case. I would also argue that everyone is on here because someone was keeping secrets. Don't do it. Get the truth out as quickly as possible so that everything can be dealt with now. Not later.
Fact is your mother betrayed you as well as the entire family. Not just your father. When you mother says this has nothing to do with you you remind her that this has everything to do with you and the family. It's betrayal. You might not have to deal with the sex issues like your father is going to have to, but you still have to deal with all the other issues that comes with betrayal. Starting with trust.
Not sure if this will help you and I'm a little hesitant to post this, but I wanted to give you a little taste of what my dday was like so that you can see that you are not alone. And if my 16 year old self can get through this and expose, then so can you. And we will be right there with you every step of the way. Here's an excerpt from my very first post on SI:
>>>>>
DDay was March of 1989. I was 16 years old and walked home from school early skipping my last class. I called a buddy who wasn't in school from the kitchen phone and was doodling on a piece of paper while talking to him. Not thinking anything of it while I was having this phone conversation, I opened up to the middle of a book I had never seen before on the table in front of me. Since I was more engaged in the conversation I was having, it took a few paragraphs to realize that I was reading my mothers diary and the content was pornographic. Really f#$%ing dirty and none of it was about my dad. It was all about the Om. Stuff no kid should ever here about.
Even now my mind races when I start to remember DDay. To quickly sum up the chain of events that transpired for me: called my grandfather to get my younger brother out of house when he got home from school, called my father at work to tell him that I needed to talk to him and that I would be home at 5:00, grabbed the diary and had a friend get me out of the house before my mom came home from where ever she was. I knew she had to leave for work by 4 and would be coming home soon to get ready.
While waiting for my friend to come pick me up, I made the mistake of reading a great deal of that diary. Probably more than half of it. I wish I hadn't but I couldn't help myself. I was about to do the hardest thing that I have ever had to do in my life. Even to this day it was the hardest thing I ever had to do. I was arming myself for the sit down I was about to have with my father. I was the one who had to tell him about mom's A.
I told him that mom was having an affair with an Om. He got really cautious and wanted to know how I could know such a thing. I told him I had read a PAGE of mom's diary. He asked me where it was (I had hid it in the garage when I got home) and he wanted me to give it to him so he could see for himself. After the sex acts that my mother had described and her thoughts to go with them I really didn't want to give it to him. But with the look he gave me I knew there was no arguing with him. I got it and handed it to him. He has a partially photographic memory and almost as fast as you can turn a page he read that book from cover to cover. To this day I'm fairly certain he could recite it back word for word if he wanted to.
Wow this next part is really hard for me to write. The look that he had on his face when he was done reading was a look I have never seen on another human being before or since. There are no words for it. Even pain seems light. That look has been burned into my brain forever and is actually the hardest part for me of this entire god forsaken mess. After what seemed like an eternity he went to the garage where he would smoke. That look.
I gave him a few minutes and then went to check on him. That look was gone and was replaced by something else completely. RAGE!! I know he didn't want me to see him and he kept asking me to leave as he stood there with my baseball bat in one hand and his car keys in the other. Even at the age of 16 I knew I couldn't leave him there like that because I knew another situation of some sort would probably go down. He kept asking me in a firm voice to leave. The voice didn't have anger or hurt in it. He was firm and as a matter of fact. After what was an eternity (maybe 20 min?), he put the bat down and put his keys on the washer machine as if silently to say he wasn't going to go anywhere. I left him there and went to my bedroom which was right above the garage. Looking back on it now, symbolically when I left him there, I left whatever used to be my dad there as well. I would never see the same man again that was there prior to my dropping a nuke.
My brother came home and my dad asked him to go to his room while he continued to wait in the garage for my mom. My grandfather (my mother's father) who was dropping him off wanted to know what was going on. My dad politely and firmly in so many words asked him to leave as it was a family matter. He left. I loved and still love my grandfather to this day. He was one of the most kindest, gentlest people I have ever known. How my mother came from him I do not know.
My mom came home from work and the confrontation began. My dad was still sitting in the garage smoking waiting for her with the garage door up. This is March and in a very cold part of the country so he must have been freezing after hours out there. As soon as my mom got out of her car and walked towards the garage my dad started screaming expletives so loud that I couldn't make them out. He slammed the garage door down so hard that it bounced all the way back up and open and that door was heavy. My mom almost immediately began to wail and ran into the house for cover. I could hear her wailing in the kitchen. I went across the hall into my brothers room (just turned 13 years old) and explained to him not to worry in so many words. That mom and dad are going to have a lot of issues to work through. I remember him being very worried and wanting to know what was going on but I didn't give him any of the details. Ever. Zero. I had to explain that we were going to have to lie low and ride out whatever storm was to come.
After what I remember to be about an hour of my mother wailing in the kitchen my dad came in. No yelling. I could hear my mother calm down to a sobbing level but I could not make out what they were saying. As I was almost in bed, my mother came up into my room and the first thing out of her mouth is why I didn't come to her first? I said nothing. The next question was how much of it did I read? I said about 1 page. I lied to cover up that I should have known not to read my mothers diary. Then she stated that she was sorry and asked if I could forgive her. To which I said "sure". Went to bed and didn't sleep a wink
The conversation with my dad that day and the even smaller one in my bedroom with my mother was the most I had ever talked to them about the A. After that conversation with my mother I checked out. I didn't want to overstep my bounds with whatever my parents were working through and quite frankly I wanted to stick my head in the sand. Seeing that look on my father's face, the gory details of her affair that I had read, and the fact that my mother seemed angry with me that I didn't come to her when I found out stuck with me. She lost me as a son that day. I never looked at her the same again. Especially as a parent. The thing that I hate the most about that day is that I was the one that got to see that look . Not her. All she saw was the anger. Looking back on it now, I believe that was the true nail in the coffin of their marriage and she never got to see it. I took the bullet on that one. With all of the dirty details in that book I wanted to say to her that with every one of the Om's thrusts up into her was another nail in the coffin of their marriage. I would never say it to her but the thought has crossed my mind more than once.
At 16 I certainly knew right from wrong. Why didn't she? How could I possibly go to her first because she lost my trust completely the moment she had the A. I won't go into all the details as they are brutal and I don't want to go there, but as one of the things I read to show you how ill she was, or as some people call it here "in the fog", there is one passage in that book that stuck out to me. I'm paraphrasing here:
"Om says that I'm such a good f and so good at giving h that I should teach my kids how be great lovers."
Trust me there was a lot more to go with that. My parents believed I had only read a small passage in her diary. They had no idea how MUCH I really knew. I was "checking out" and detaching myself from my family so there was no way I was going to tell them. In fact, I subconsciously began to hide from them. I'm good. I'm fine. There is nothing to see here. Please go away and I'll be at home as little as possible. And so began me burying it all inside me and not dealing with it. Some of the other things I read in that book were that my aunt (my mom's sister) was an enabler. My mom would sometimes carry out her A at my aunts house as my cousins were all gown up or away at college. In fact, my mom and aunt would sometimes go out on dates together with their boyfriends (my aunt had been divorced for a long time (not due to an A). Same with many of their mutual friends. Those "friends" had even introduced my mom to Om and they carried out their A at their "friends" houses as well. I knew from her diary first hand where the allegiances were. But who cares. I'm checking out.
Looking back as the days and weeks went on post DDay, I realize now how narcissistic my mother has been her entire life. My mom began IC and started to blame the A on depression. She began meds and treatment and still has to do both to this day. I will NEVER accept depression as an excuse for what she did. Shes's clearly sick and mentally ill, but find it impossible to understand someone's inability to choose right from wrong but more so to a family that they supposedly loved. A mistake, sure. Someone can make a mistake and a mistake is something you apologize for. What she was doing had clearly been going on for a while. Not exactly sure how long but clearly a long time. That's not a mistake. That's deliberate. She not only cheated on my father, but us as a family. She poisoned us and made the family sick. This gets worse over the years post DDay but I'll get to that in a bit.
Last I saw the diary it was in the garage with my father on DDay. I have no idea where it disappeared to. Good riddance. The rest of what I heard is from my mother's own mouth. She was so wrapped up in her own bs that she failed to realize that my brother and I were in the same house as her let alone in the same room. We would walk in the door from school or where ever and she would either be on the phone in the kitchen or upstairs in her bedroom with the door open. She would be talking with my aunt, her "friends" or possibly even the Om for all I knew. I already knew most of the details so I wouldn't really listen. But I definitely remember her talking smack about my dad. All sorts of horrible lies. How wonderful Om was blah blah blah. She clearly didn't love us, her family. Now that all this was out in the open, she was hell bent talking about it to whomever was in ear shot. I remember her saying on one of those calls that she was done with all the lies and cover up and she was going to talk about it to get it out in the open with everyone. She had no idea that I was standing right behind her. Or maybe she did. I didn't care because I was "checking out". She lost me on DDay anyway.
Just a quick word here to all the WSs out there. As a child it's hard NOT know what is going on when you live in a house with someone. It doesn't matter how careful you think you are being. I know my mother is a narcissist and it's all about her all the time. But whether it's a diary, a journal, emails, texts, phone calls, whatever.... No matter how careful you think you're being you probably aren't being careful enough. My mother didn't leave that diary out deliberately to get caught. I know that now and I will get to more of that later. As a WS you have to be honest with your kids and then shield them from as much of the details as you can. And even then it's probably not enough. Case in point, my brother. Kids have a way of finding things out when curiosity steps in.
A few months post DDay, my brother came to me and asked me 2 questions. First was he wanted to know if it was true that I had read our mother's diary. I said yes. Next question he asked me was if it was true that there were "others"? That was the first I heard that and told him as much. He walked away and I didn't pursue where he heard that. I was done. I had checked out already. Clearly he had done some snooping of his own and was now clued into what was going on. He could have been listening into any number of conversations. I'm fairly certain it wasn't my dad who tipped him off. My dad was now "checking out" as well. He was no longer the same person and was always preoccupied with something. I'm pretty sure I could guess what. He was a happy go lucky guy. He whistled while he did things, made jokes all the time, etc. I never saw that side of him again post DDay. Even 25 years later. But hey, whatever. I'm not in this family any more. I'm out. Detached. He never mentioned a word about the A back then. It wasn't until about 5 years later that he brought it up.
I'm sure my mom thought everything was fine with them going forwards. She and my dad were working it out. At one point they were having sex almost every night and were very vocal about it. Overcompensating? Probably. Even most of my friends heard their vocal sex my senior year of high school when they would come to pick me up or we would go to my room to get something. I didn't care what my friends heard. I was there to eat, sleep, and go to school while my parents were absorbed in what was going on between them. This is how life in that house went on for the next couple of years. I began college, my brother began high school, and then it happened.
Remember that poison was in the water. I was checked out, I'm pretty sure my dad was checked out, and my mother was self absorbed. I need to be clear. This next part I do not blame on the A. I blame this more on myself for checking out and how my family was sick. We were no longer a family that I could see and we were all wrapped up in our own world. Oct 1994 after a few years of blah, my brother committed suicide. I'll spare the details on that one as that's another story for another website someday. I don't think any of us saw that coming. I've blamed myself a lot over the years because I had checked out. My dad had checked out. My mother, whatever... And of course my brother went out as mad as hell and it was controversial. No nothing like taking other people out or anything stupid like that. But it certainly grabbed the media's attention and next thing we had media camped out on our front lawn. Thank God social media and the internet had not been invented yet. But now throw that incident and the fact that we have to watch it on tv, whatever was left of my parent's relationship was obliterated. And if it's possible I checked out even further. That house we were living in was a wasteland.
After that my parents were done with whatever R was still trying to go on. Let me rephrase, my dad was done and my mom was too wrapped up in a new set of issues with the one's she already had to notice that my dad was done. I've been able to see it since DDay. Why can't she see it? Oh right, she never saw the look of complete and utter devastation. I did.
<<<<<
Another point of telling the truth and getting it all out there. By telling the truth and being engaging with your parents, you don't have to check out like from the family like I did. We can cross that bridge if you ever come to it. But for now, one step at a time. Exposure by telling your father and then seeing what he wants to do.
yop