Being a betrayed spouse must be comparable to having a mood disorder. One moment I feel calm, in control and okay. Then, smack a trigger hits and I become like a car with no brakes. My mind racing. Every painful thought and emotion stabs me like a dagger over and over.
Yes, after my hopeful post yesterday I jumped on that roller coaster with one glance at a shirt in our closet. A shirt I’d never seen that had somehow missed the donation bag or dumpster. He had forgotten about it. It was one of those free shirts that my husband has a habit of bringing home. The embroidery on the shirt was from an organization that my husband used to volunteer for but then she took a job for the organization, so in the light of D-Day he quit. We had just gotten home from having a drink at a local restaurant. And although I only had one margarita…. I was feeling it (I am a very cheap date). So this t-shirt was not only ripped from the shelf and flung to the ground it led to me taking a pair of jeans that are a trigger and me stabbing them with his pocketknife (at his suggestion and with his help). All this led to me in lying on the bed in tears…. Quite literally a mess. My husband sat there trying to quietly console me… I can imagine he was thinking about how we had amazing sex earlier that night, laughed and had fun when we grabbed a drink in town and now his affair had turned the night upside down.
Triggers suck. They hit you when you almost feel invincible. I hate triggers. I hate their power.