Okay, so here I am again.  Now I need to share this one.  I’m going to try to do this without crying.  Pain.  Pain is not of a physical nature here.   Physical  pain is somewhat easy (taken into perspective – no disease such as cancer).  Pain.  Emotional.  Hurts are more than basic physical pain.   How so, one might ask?  Easy.  I had given up this idiotic disease until one fateful day when I realized the man I loved loved someone else.  My son drove a ball on a driving range on that fateful day that I found out.  I chose to take him there and teach how to drive.  Unbeknownst to him, his mother, hurting inside, didn’t quite equate the range of her son’s club versus how far away she stood.  To this day I have the scar.  But here is the story behind it:

I felt NO PAIN physically.   I felt no pain at all other than my son’s for hurting his mom.  But I couldn’t feel it.  It didn’t exist in this world of pain I was feeling.  Why?  Because I NO LONGER EXISTED in my husband’s heart.

Okay, so was that pain, pain and pain?

He said, he being my “husband”, the night before, that he… was in love with someone else. Bang.  A bruise on the face the size of a man abusing his wife felt nothing like the bullet that hit my heart the day before but for some reason my heart kept beating.  It wasn’t suppose to.  I should have died.  Oh but I did… but not physically…

You see, this pain I didn’t eat then and there.  It took time for the pain to digest its pain.  Then it started again.  My brain’s side of emotions came out and ate my pain.  My fear that came to be of not being loved in the most unconditional way that I knew how to love surfaced.

I ate her and threw her up once I figured it all out.  I just wanted her out.  Even more so I became someone I was not.  I tried to compete with that person who stole my “husband’s” love.  I did things for him I would never have.  And then I ate myself even more and threw myself up even more.  Nice eh?


I couldn’t compete, I realized.  I wasn’t the same colour, the same body size, the same sexual being she was.  He and she did things I just couldn’t bring myself to do, and when I did in a fit of “fight for him syndrome” it went against my values.  Values.  They mean everything.  They stand above law, order and love.  Values.  Dignity.  Integrity.  No matter how much you love, if you go against those values you have for yourself, your dignity and your integrity… a relationship, be it with yourself or with someone else…. it will NOT survive.  Much to the detriment of your children… but it will NOT survive.  And one of the two will suffer in the top of that pyramid of marriage and children.  You get it.  I’m sure.

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