Why aren't you more angry? People ask.
I have confused a lot of people with my reactions in this situation. Friends and family have commented frequently on my lack of screaming obscenities and hurling dinner plates, which is what they assume they would do themselves. I'm here to tell you that I actually do get mad. A lot! Most of the time, anger gets eclipsed by larger bullies like "humiliation" and "heartbreak" but when those guys take a break, anger is right on hand to whisper mean nothings in my ear. For instance:
I'm angry that I have been so deceived.
I'm angry every time one of my children brings up the situation and needs reassurance.
I'm angry that I have to be the one to deal with the acting out and repercussions from them because of their father's selfish choice.
I'm angry that I have to feel so humiliated for doing what I was supposed to, which was love my spouse with everything I had, and that I feel humiliated for not being able to turn those strong emotions off like he was able to.
I'm angry on weeks like this when I am sick and still have to go through the routine, daily care of our children without a break or the benefit of a helpmeet.
I'm angry that I haven't had a reasonable night of sleep in five months and it has nothing to do with the baby in the house.]
I am angry that he helped to build our little family and has now left me to raise three young children alone.
I'm angry that he genuinely thinks that parenting his children from a distance will be enough for them.
I'm angry that they do not have a father who can be a good example to them.
I'm angry that I have to swallow my hurt and misery and see the object of my heartbreak every week without getting a chance to heal.
I'm angry that when he walked away without trying or sacrificing anything, he took with him this family's best option for happiness.
I'm angry that despite all the love and advice and promises that were made to him, he still feels like his happiness is above those he had stewardship over.
I'm angry that, although I was not perfect, I did things right and was faithful and loving and I'm the one who gets no control.
I'm angry that I have to be afraid for my future and for my children's.
I'm angry that have to now doubt my ability or desire to give as much love and loyalty to someone in the future because it did me no good in this marriage.
I'm angry at myself for not doing something about certain issues five years ago instead of sticking my head in the sand.
I'm angry that he led me on that we would have a future together and now I have a hard time even going to my hometown because it holds so much history for us and we always talked about settling down there.
I'm angry that my days are full of triggers and it is easier just to stay home every day because I never know when something random is going to bring me down.
I'm angry that I am surrounded by reminders of our life together while he gets to have distractions that have nothing to do with us.
I'm angry that I have had to spend the last five months waking up multiple times a night and feeling like I got kicked in the stomach when reality rushes in.
I'm angry that fond memories have now become torture.
I'm angry that he has taken the identity that I wanted and has turned me into a person who has to rely on people around me for things we need.
I'm angry that he has caused us both to be an emotional burden on people who love us.
I'm angry that he has chosen to give in to this worst version of himself and I know that the man I married is a much better man than that.
I'm angry that I have lost both my husband as well as my best friend.
I'm angry that I still have so much love for the person who has been the cause of the most loneliness and worst feelings that I hope I ever have to know.
I'm angry that I have something that will cause me regret for the rest of my life.
Satisfied? I could go on, but you get the picture. Judging by this list, it sounds like I spend my days being angry. I don't. Some of it is fleeting and some of it keeps me awake at night, but like I said, it takes a far back seat to all my other emotions. I am willing to feel it, but I refuse to let it rule me.
So, consider these as verbal dinner plates thrown.