Drip, Drip, Drip...

is not the way to deal with a betrayed spouse if a sincere reconciliation is to be attempted. 

The problem with the drip method is that as more lies are exposed, all forward progress is invalidated as the betrayal becomes fresh again. 

As I think about my past week's events, I am incredulous that cheaters think they can get away with their lies!  The truth always comes out in the end.  Maybe later in some cases than sooner, but lies do have a funny way of emerging.  Do they seriously think we are that stupid?  Are we not worth the dignity of the truth from the get-go? 

My husband initially denied having sex with 'the skank', to then admitting to 'messing around', short of oral sex and intercourse.  When he finally admitted to having sex 'twice' (he claims), he told me he knew it would come to light eventually, but didn't want to 'ruin' things, since we were doing so well and he was 'getting his family back.'  Unfortunately for him, this admission eroded the trust we were slowly rebuilding and started the questioning process again.  So we talked at length...again. 

Drip, Drip, Drip.

I am finally optimistic that the drip has been fixed.  While there really were no more 'secrets', there was confirmation of several suspicions.  Those suspicions prevented me from truly having faith in my husband's attempt to put the marriage back together.  Deep down, I already knew the answers.  He acknowledge his fear in confessing because he thought it would ruin things, not realizing his omissions and half truths were in fact sabotaging his reconciliation efforts.  

I no longer am interested in further details. The information I requested and confirmation of what I suspected was fully disclosed. It was never about the infinite minute-by-minute accounting of his time with the skank, it was about what I discovered and suspected. It was about validating my dignity with the truth so we could move on.  I don't feel there's anything more he's hiding.  Hopefully, I'm right...

The New Normal...

I've struggled with regaining my 'normal' self. I can't find my usual enjoyment from regular spring time activities which always provided me with peace and joy.  I have no ambition to ride my bike, nor have I broken out the Nikon for an impromptu afternoon of photography.  I normally spend most of July at the beach with my sons during the summer which was a dream come true for me.  I am absolutely dreading summer this year.  I have no motivation to switch the drawers and closets from winter to summer.  I don't know what normal is anymore.

  
Everything has changed.  There is no 'normal', no regular routine and very little happiness.  To add insult to injury, we've been faced with severe financial issues. To deal with my frustration, I've recently turned my attention to my neglected back yard.  

We live in the city and own a small house on a standard city lot. My husband purchased the vacant lot next door, so we have a spacious fenced in yard.  Three trees, mature perennial flower beds and a dozen years later, our city yard is more of a mini park with a decent amount of privacy.  A small vegetable garden on the original property has been terribly neglected and overtaken by several years of weeds.

In between bouts of rain, I began an outdoor spring clean up in April.  Thirty one bags of yard waste and thirty bags of mulch later, my mini park looks pretty spiffy. I had giant plastic planters that I dug into the garden, creating raised bed herb pots.  I planted veggies from the garden center as well as several rows of various seeds.  

I have been obsessed with the garden. This endeavor has absorbed some of the excess emotional energy with which I've been struggling and provides satisfaction at the actual moment I am working. But once I leave the garden, I just can't shake the frustration and sadness that engulfs me most of the time. 

I guess it's a process.  There are some good days and some bad. I wish there was a magic button to push. I just want to reclaim some semblance of my former self.  Any suggestions?

The Queen Is In

We are loyal spouses and dedicated mothers.  We work, clean house, cook and chauffeur our kids around.  We are queens.  We fucking rock.

The affair hit the core of my self esteem.  He betrayed my trust.  He struck a massive blow to my ego.  I questioned myself, my life, my entire world.  

Queens don't compete.  I don't compete. This meme verbalized my feelings and when the idea for this blog hatched, I saw myself as a queen and came up with 'The Queen Is In'.  

We didn't deserve betrayal, nor do we bear the responsibility for our husbands' actions. We are queens.  We must recognize this and reject the doubts of our worth wholeheartedly.  We must not let their actions define us as some sort of failure, of not being good enough, thoughts that have gone through my head a million times and probably yours as well.  

The 'Queen' does not refer to just me. It is a reference to all of us dedicated wives and moms.  I stand with you all in solidarity. We are queens.  We must stay strong in this belief.  

We must rise above the pain of infidelity, regain our happiness.  We cannot allow what they did to define us.  

"The Queen Is In", not a victim, not a second-guessing, self-worth doubter, not a failure...Dolly is in. A queen, the queen.  And I wear my bracelet to remind myself...

Triggers

can be obvious or subtly emerge out of the blue for no apparent reason.  As June fast approaches, I am expecting a surge in my triggers as June is when his affair began.

It can be an innocent comment such as how lucky I am to have a husband like him.  I don't think I even need to elaborate on how much those words piss me off.  

I have a friend who's going through a particularly nasty divorce.  Her husband is a sex addict, who had an affair which resulted in with a child. He would travel for business and the genius (my husband) said it was to be expected that when he was away for a couple of weeks at a time.  He really wasn't crazy about her husband who wasn't a stand up, honest guy in my husband's book.  Needless to say we entered into a very lively discussion on that one.

We were out one day and I wanted to snap a picture of us.  He didn't want to because he said he didn't look good, but it irked me that there are a few pictures of them floating around.

Then of course there is the direct mention of 'the skank,' Kimba.  He will actually try to make a joke if I bring her up.  That totally triggers my crazy.  Poor Kimba, if she actually heard him talk about her, she'd probably have a stroke.

Lying is a major trigger and causes explosions.  I caught him in a lie the other day and he was fortunate I kept my calm.  The kids were home so the explosion came later when he decide he wanted to talk about it.  At the time, I was content to digest the information and ponder how I would make him suffer.  I knew he slept with her, but he wouldn't come clean with me.  

Occasionally nothing specific is the trigger.  For no apparent reason, I'll think of the phone calls, seeing his car at her house, watching them through her front window one night and my rage resurfaces.

I can be driving and a song from last summer will come on the radio and I will think of her. Of him. And then I replay of the events from June through October as if it were yesterday.  I will then replay particular days with alternative events.  What if I did this? What if I said that? What if I went over when he was there? What if I went to the restaurant and tossed drinks in their faces? 

My hallway has dozens of family photos hung on the wall.  There was one from our vacation last August when I didn't know about 'the skank'.  Last week when I looked at that photo, it irritated me, so I I removed that picture.

I never know what will trigger me.  A very innocent statement or remark can literally set me off in a rage. As time goes by, it happens less frequently, but I have some concerns as we go into the next three months.  I'm trying not to dwell on it or give it too much thought.

One day at a time...

Women Know...

We might not suspect at first, but once the suspicion is there, we just know. And what we don't know, we dig, snoop, follow, study, use our friend's expertise until we find out.  Then, once we find out, we want to hear it straight from the horse's mouth.  Full disclosure.  I wrote about it a week ago, saying finally I could put my husband's affair in the past as he came clean with the lingering questions I had.  He had in fact confessed details I had pretty much known, but had been looking for confirmation.   

He had admitted taking 'the skank' out for drinks and dinner on occasion, but refused to tell me where.  I wanted to know where. Was it somewhere we had gone, or somewhere I wanted to go and he refused to take me?  Was it somewhere that someone may have recognized him out with another woman? He did ultimately divulge the locations although he didn't realized that if I wanted to, I would have no problem finding out.  I had taken photographs of his two credit cards and could have easily tracked the purchases in spite of the fact I never see the bills.  Bank of America gives very detailed information on the phone and as he is not computer savvy, I could easily set the accounts up online and he would never know it.  I did not have to go that far, he did in fact tell me what I wanted to know and I was encouraged by that.  However, I still felt he was hiding something.

Before I told him I knew about the affair, I tracked him 24/7 for 10 days using the Find My Phone app on his cell phone.  During that timeframe, I was assembling information for my attorney and getting the divorce papers drafted and filed.  I knew where he was at all times and captured many screenshots of his location at all hours.

The cell phone bill provided me crucial details.  I could see who called who, where the call originated from, where it was answered.  He would call her from outside her house when he arrived, and she'd call him all the way home when he left (how sweet).  I was capable of documenting what nights he stayed there, what nights they'd go out and what time he'd leave.  I could see when he'd take her out because other calls  would come in and be answered in a different location from her home town. 

Clearly, when he used the 'just friends' excuse and they were only phone calls early into the discovery, I knew he was full of shit.

But there was one thing he would not come clean about.  Sex.  I know they did. He knows I know yet he refused to confess.  Until he slipped the other night.  He didn't outright deny having sex, in the alternative, in response to my question, he said, 'well if I did' and I pounced.  Maybe he was just worn down with the lying.  But he finally admitted it.  After all the denying.  After using his germophobia as fear of catching a disease.  After saying they made out but never had intercourse.  Over and over, looking me dead in the eye he denied and denied until he finally came clean.  He confessed he slept with her.  

Of course, taking mature path, I screamed at him.  What did you think, I'm stupid.  It's insulting to me that you would look me in the face and lie when I knew you slept with her.  Knowing that you thought I wasn't worth the honesty.  The only thing you're sorry about is that you got caught.  

He said it wasn't frequent and she often had her kids, neighbors and friends dropping by.  "You motherfucker. I could never have my friends pop by, I had to run it by you because you didn't want people over if you didn't know about it first."  (Mental note, advance notice ends effective immediately).

I was livid.  How dare he hang around with her friends, knowing that she was with a married man, my husband.  It was a total embarrassment to me, a complete lack of respect.  So I started throwing out the names of her friends.  He was staring at me with a stunned expression, not having realized the extent of my 'investigation'. 

I gave him locations of phone calls when she'd speak with her friend 'Renee'. I told him about her scumbag piece of shit white trash friend 'Anna' who actually encouraged her to pursue my husband. He actually admitted to me he met Anna at her house one afternoon when he went over for a drink. I listed several other of her friends familiar to him.  My 'research' and investigation was quite impressive and thorough.

But you know what happens when I have him?  He tries to turn it on me.  Well you told all your friends....and I put up my hand. 'Whoa. You don't have the right to be upset about me telling my friends!'  I sneered, "Don't you ever tell me to keep it quiet.  You were at her house with her friends.  That is an embarrassment to me.  I don't need to 'air our dirty laundry', I'm quite sure she did. Don't you ever, ever dare to tell me to be quiet, I have no intention of covering for you."

And he shut up.  And like a dog with his tail between his legs. Again he said it was only a couple of times.  He said the first time sucked and he had a hard time getting it up.  I can believe that because she is fucking gross.  So he said he tried it another time but it still 'didn't work right'. 

This was a set back.  When I wrote my Full Disclosure post, I thought he had come clean so we could finally move forward.  I don't trust him anymore, again.  I still feel as if he's hiding something.  And I am stuck.  I know he slept with her.  He shouldn't have lied. I really don't think he would ever go back with her.  We are supposed to be moving forward, so should I not worry about how many times over how long?  I know the approximate time frame, I know our marriage was in crisis mode and I know he slept with her.  How much more knowledge do I need?  Is it counter-productive to keep going over the details?  Should I finally now move forward? 

It's Mothers Day

... and not all of have fond memories of their Mom.  I wonder if anyone else has a shitty mom like mine?

I see my some of my friends' Facebook posts on how great their moms are. I see other heartbroken friends' posts missing their deceased moms.  But I don't see any posts about the crappy moms.  I can't be the only one one whose Mom left much to be desired, could I?

My mom was crappy.  She was mean.  She was selfish.  And when I had children I promised myself I would not be like her.  

My husband always told me he was almost afraid to commit to a relationship with me after meeting my mother.  He never liked her, she reminded him of a childhood friend's mother who in all fairness suffered from mental illness. Maybe my mother does suffer from mental illness as well, although no one in my immediate family has ever been diagnosed.  

Nevertheless, I can attest to the fact that my mother is one of the most selfish people I've ever met.  As far as I've ever seen she has never given to others without an ulterior motive.  As a child, I never saw her sacrifice for us.  My father always gave of himself, but my mother was always concerned about herself.  

My mother fancies herself a Christian, but was never a generous person. She lives in fear.  She must attend weekly mass because that is what the Catholic religion dictates. If she doesn't, she'll go to hell.  I attended Catholic school through 12th grade and am fluent in the teachings of the Catholic faith, however, I never fell prey to the fear tactics. I believe in God, and in Jesus.  I also believe that it's more important to be a good person than go to church.  If everyone would 'do unto others as you would like others to do unto you', the world would be a much better place. I don't attend church regularly and I don't believe that because of this, I am condemned to spend eternity in hell.  The God I believe in is a loving God, not one who punishes because someone neglects to attend weekly mass.  When I see my mother, I see a Sunday Christian, one who goes to church on Sundays and holy days, yet treats people like shit Monday thru Saturday.  Those people are not Christians in my view.

My friend Pat and her mother came over for dinner and drinks one night.  They told me a story I had never heard before about how in elementary (Catholic) school, over 40 years ago, Pat's mother phoned my mother.  She didn't drive and asked my mother if they could ride with us to school for a church event.  My mother answered her in one word, "No."  We all laughed but secretly, I cringed inside. I was not surprised however.  That was the epitome of my mother.

I can't even comment on my childhood because frankly, I don't even remember much of it.  I think I blocked a lot of it out.  The pieces I do remember revolve around events from school, early work and friends. I don't remember much about events with my immediate family.  Sometimes, I look at old family pictures and cannot even attach memories to them. 

I used to resent my mother, but I've reached a point in time where I have just let the past be the past.  I wouldn't use the word forgiveness, but I don't hate her either.  It's like she doesn't even exist.  My mother and I had a falling out a little over five years ago.  Not only did she cut out contact with me, but she has not tried to contact my sons either.  For many years, I had resented the fact that she favored my sister's children but never did anything for mine. It hurt.  Ultimately, I believe she was able to cut ties with my sons because of their autism.  Their behavior was very difficult and challenging as toddlers and they weren't worth the effort as far as she was concerned.  She is selfish. If the relationship takes effort, she just can't be bothered.  As my sons have grown and matured, they are very smart and extremely funny adolescents.  I sometimes feel sorry for her that she misses out on their company.  But it's her choice. 

My sons were sick and I needed to bring my daughter to the ER years ago, when they were toddlers.  I phoned my mother to ask her to come over and stay with the boys.  She said she couldn't because it had rained earlier and the roads were wet.  (Did I mention she lives 5 minutes away?)  My daughters ex-boyfriend took her to the ER.  The next day it snowed... a lot.  But it was Sunday.  My mother was miraculously able to drive to church.  There are so many more similar stories.

Five years ago, she sat in my house and lied to my face.  Well it wasn't exactly a lie, more like an omission of details.  A few days later, when I needed to speak with her, I learned she was away.  She neglected to tell me she was visiting a family member that had betrayed me, my husband and my daughter.  She had been deliberately sneaky and I was extremely upset that she hid, rather than just told me the fact that she was going.  It caused an argument and her reaction to it was to cut ties.  When she brought other family members into it in the form of excluding me from other family functions, including a niece's baby shower after that niece had survived chemotherapy for leukemia, I could accept her cutting the ties with a clear conscience.  

In the past five years, I've only run into her once while I was at an after funeral luncheon for my cousin's aunt and my mother was there, her usual nasty, belligerent self shining out for all to see.  I didn't engage in too much conversation with her but she could not help herself and when the attitude emerged, I shut it down quickly and firmly.  I refused to play her obnoxious game.  When my cousin left, she found the flowers my mother was given before the casket was buried, on the hood of her.  And that's my mother, a petty, nasty woman.

Since social media has became so prevalent in today's society,  I've always felt an additional pang of sadness on Mother's Day.  I see all the posts and the heartbreaking tributes to the moms that are no longer here.  Some of my friends had been blessed to have had the most wonderful, encouraging Moms.  Some of my friends also still have their moms to love and enjoy.  Some of my friends are grandmothers and have close relationships with their daughters and grandchildren.  I am disappointed that I never had a mom who encouraged me, one whom I could go to if I had a problem or even just to share an accomplishment.  I wish I had a mom who helped me plan my wedding or took enjoyment of my childrens' many milestones, especially in light of their autism.  I wish I had a mom with whom I could enjoy an afternoon of shopping or just spending some time doing nothing. 

As Mother's Day comes to a close, I do realize I am blessed with three amazing children.  I have been a hands on mom, always aware of providing the love and attention I didn't receive myself.  And while I am by far not the perfect mother, I know in my heart, my children will never, ever question the fact that I loved them and will always know how proud of them I am, every single day of their lives.







  

Mind Fuck

noun. (slang, vulgar) Something that intentionally destabilizes, confuses or manipulates the mind of another person.

a situation which calls into question the way your mind currently sees a certain idea or the world in general

messing with someones mind, usually to an extreme.

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Feelings by a betrayed spouse encompasses all of the above definitions and it's not pretty.
Eight months ago my world was rocked with the discovery of my husband's affair.  My husband's to blame but I would be lying if I said I didn't harbor ill will to the skank who actively and willingly participated.  I read an article recently which stated wives redirect the anger meant for their husbands as a way of protecting their love for them, releasing it over time in smaller, more manageable increments. Had my husband had an affair with someone random, I may agree more wholeheartedly with that statement.  Additionally however, I have more personal reasons for my anger geared toward 'the skank', who comparable to a snake, stealthily snuck around before slithering out from under her rock.  And as she approaches her one year anniversary of fucking around with my husband, here's a few thoughts for her..

It has now been a year ago, when you and my husband had your three month summer affair. So how do you feel now? Do you go to bed each night crying. Is the pain so overwhelming that you can't sleep? Do you think about the fact that he's in bed with me every night. Do you wonder if he thinks about you? Do you wonder how could he leave you when he loved you (according to you).  Are you replaying over and over and over what went wrong?  

Mind Fuck. 

Are you still thinking of him now?  Are you still hurting?  Is your heart broken? A year ago your divorce was getting close to its end and you believed my husband was the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.  If he was truthful, there was no physical consummation of this affair.  Sex was the prize you were anticipating at your divorce's conclusion, a romantic proposition with such high expectations!  On the other hand, if he was lying and he did sleep with you, it would have been a dream come true after having wished, fantasized and plotted for over 30 years.  Your dilemma as I see it is what do you consider to be worse? - either he didn't sleep with you and you wish you did?  Or the fact he did and could just walk away with no notice, no goodbye.  Honey, if your companionship and sexual chemistry was so passionate and meant to be, he would have sprinted to you once the divorce papers were served. Instead, he dropped you cold turkey.  Play that song in your head.

Mind Fuck.  

When my thoughts go to you, they are no longer about what went on during your brief affair, they now focus primarily around instances where I imagine we run into each other and I reveal knowledge which will unveil just how little you actually meant to him. He didn't go to you because of your fantasy of being his lost love from 30 years ago. He didn't go to you because of your charming personality.  He went to you because you were there. Period. You were there pretending to be his friend, all wide-eyed and innocent and stoking his enormous ego. You gave him the attention that he was craving and missing from our marriage. You were dropped like a hot potato when I found out about you, even when the divorce was ongoing. We literally were at war subsequent to my discovery and he neglected to apprise you of any of the divorce developments.  According to him, his motive was to force things to a head, something our communication or lack thereof prevented us from doing.  Once our situation was in the open, he didn't need you anymore. 

Mind Fuck. 

He never told you I filed for divorce mere days after I learned about the affair. As a matter of fact, he only came clean with you after I insisted he disclose this information to you, several months later, so you would know he was free to go to you but didn't.  He chose to put our marriage first and the only way I would agree to a reconciliation was for him to cut all ties with you, including decades of friendship. Did it hurt finding out I filed for divorce and he didn't come to you?  Do you torture yourself with the question of how your confidant, your 'best oldest best friend' as you like to throw in my face, never even told you?  That must have been a punch in the gut. Why did he kept that secret? Why didn't he come to you to celebrate? Why didn't he tell you he was going to be free, free to be with you?  He should have been thrilled that after thirty years, the one that got away, his separated soulmate, love of his life, was finally going to be free at the same time. But he wasn't thrilled, he could care less about you. How could he do this to you? 

Mind Fuck.

Attempting to downplay any semblance of seriousness to your 'relationship', he spoke of your numerous issues, including your excessive marijuana and alcohol use.  If you really knew my husband, you'd know of his utter distaste for drug use. He never would have considered a serious relationship with you strictly based on that fact alone.  Perhaps you've had too many brain cells fried.  Oh wait, he said you weren't the brightest bulb.  He even called you crazy.  

He hardly used your name, he called you 'that girl'.  

He would say, "I don't want to be with that girl."  

"I'm not in love with that girl.'  

'It could have been anyone.  We were dead. She was there.' 

I taunted him, 'Did you even think for a minute I would allow HER to be a stepmother to my kids?'  He responded, 'No, that would never have happened.  Her mothering skills were not that great.'

Did you in your wildest dreams seriously believe he would ever go from ME to settling for a hot mess like you? 

I wish you knew how he casually he speaks of you. Oh don't worry, it wasn't all bad, there had been a friendship there for many years. You were comfortable.  He had a good time over the summer. HE had a good time.  You really weren't that special, anyone would have served his purpose.  It was all about HIM, HIS needs, HIS ego.  ANYONE would have done, but you were there, only YOU assumed you meant more to him. You were convinced this was 'meant to be'. 

Do you find yourself obsessing about what his feelings were towards you? Did he love me? Did he use me? Did he love his wife even though he said he didn't anymore?  How could he spend so much time with me if he didn't really love me? He must have loved me because we took selfies together when we went out. He took me out and didn't care if anyone saw us.  

How could he just leave me once his wife found out.  If his marriage was dead as he told me, why didn't he come to me when she filed for divorce? Why didn't he tell me? Why didn't he call me?  Thinking, questioning, crying, justifying, over and over, night after night?  

Mind Fuck. 

Your affair with my husband is over, and so is your friendship.  You never imagined THAT would happen.  You should have known however that I would never allow that to continue. Oh wait, you didn't even consider losing your friendship because you had been friends for almost 3 decades and he wouldn't let ME stand in the way of that.  Besides, he was going to leave me for you anyway. Newsflash: He wants to be with me and rebuild our marriage.  In doing so, he chose me rather than maintaining the friendship with you.  Bye Skank.

Mind Fuck.

It was a year ago you amped up your phone calls, commiserating with my husband, trading  shitty spouses' stories.  As the weather gets warm, I hope your mind is filled with memories of your happy summer.  I hope you replay your conversations with my husband over and over. I hope the thoughts and questions overwhelm you every damn day. How could he go back to her? Mind Fuck. 

I hope you replay every moment of your summer while you're laying in bed with nobody. Remember the nights outs together.  Reminisce about your fantasies of divorcing your husband so you could be with mine.  Did you hope I would find out?  Did you think that once I found out you would get him?  Mind Fuck. 

You believed that he loved you. Mind Fuck. 
You were convinced for years that you were meant to be with him.  Mind Fuck. 

You thought fate was bringing you back together because when you were served with your own divorce papers, his marriage crumbling.  You were both going to be free at the same time!  You posted, 'There's always that one person you've had feelings for since the day you met.'  Mind Fuck. 

I frequently fight the urge to contact you mostly because I am a firm believer in Karma. I would not want to bring bad Karma back on me by taunting you with the bits and pieces I know would crush you.  I've seen Karma in all its glory come back to others, so I am quite confident you too shall face yours when the time is right.  And quite frankly, I believe you've already had a small prelude to your Karma.  Your husband moved on and is happy with someone else.  My husband dumped you like the trash you are and chose to fight for our marriage. You are left with nobody. It sucks, doesn't it?

I truly wish with all my heart that you find someone that makes you discover love again. I wish you a heart full of happiness, security in your new love and explicit trust in him.  And when all is well, I hope what you did to me comes back to you.

Full Disclosure

...is absolutely necessary for me to go forward with reconciliation after his affair.  My husband had been reluctant to do this.  We have spoken at length about the affair.  He says he will speak with me about it when I need to, but lately he only seems to want to discuss the points he wants to discuss.  He reached a point several weeks ago where he was unwilling to speak about the affair itself anymore, saying we needed to leave the past alone and concentrate on the future.  The problem is that an innocent comment can trigger me to relive the past eight months and then focus on a particular aspect of the affair.  For example, we went out to lunch and I wanted to take a selfie of us and he refused.  Why did he take pictures with her and refuse to take one with me?  He said he looked sloppy, his beard was too long and gray and he didn't want to take a picture.  I pushed, he got frustrated and we ended up in an argument. 

I found an article the other day called Understanding Your Loyal Spouse. While there were a few aspects of the article that I felt went a little over the top, I could relate to most of the content.  

The article stated that betrayed spouses relive the affair over and over and sometimes will repeatedly ask the same questions. This is a mechanism which assists in processing the betrayal. I am a question asker.  I want details. I need full disclosure in order to keep my imagination in check. 

Another of the points I identified with was how keeping feelings bottled up eventually results in emotional explosions.  Guilty on both counts.

He is an extremely logical person while I run on 99% emotion, and on Monday there was an emotional explosion. Nonetheless, I was able to combine the emotional outburst with logic and convince him to read the article over breakfast.  He went through point by point with me and I was able to convey how I felt he wasn't giving me what I needed from him to successfully put the affair behind.  I told him I could go to 100 psychiatrists and take 10 different anxiety medications, but without him giving me what I needed to put this behind us, it would be a waste of time.  He actually agreed with me.  

He provided me with the details I asked for.  What did they do? Where did he take her? And for the first time since October, I actually felt like he wasn't hiding anything anymore.  

Although we have been working on our relationship for the past five months, I felt as though he was not totally trustworthy, he was still hiding information.  He finally answered all my questions.  I have no unanswered details to speculate over.  I now believe we can fully move forward.

Autism, Anxiety, Depression and Perception – A Perfect Storm

My son was diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder when he was three years old. Nonverbal until kindergarten, not fully potty trained until first grade, he was academically a year or two behind his peers until fourth grade. Private tutoring, speech and occupational therapy successfully transitioned him to middle school. He was a polite, considerate, respectful, thriving, straight A student, well liked by his teachers and peers. 

Joining the track team in eighth grade, he was awarded a coveted trophy for sportsmanship and achievement. He applied and was later accepted to an elite merit based high school. He was a model student seemed to have the world by the balls.

However, in late October, I received a phone call from my son’s guidance counselor informing me my son had dropped his books and backpack on the floor and ran out of the back door after one of his classes. Shocked, my husband and I sped to the school, wondering if he may have been bullied and was hiding somewhere near the school grounds. Frantically we searched, but couldn’t find him. The police were notified.

A police officer found him several miles away near a homeless shelter. He confided to that officer he thought the world would be a better place with out him. In that moment, life as we knew it changed. 

Initially my son was admitted to the emergency room, the first stop in navigating through the mental health process. Next were psychiatrist appointments then placement in a specialized autism crisis day program.  We sadly learned our happy go lucky son, always presenting as if nothing bothered him, in reality felt isolated and severely lonely.  He believed no one liked him, he claimed he had no friends and stated he felt ‘invisible’ in school. He thought he was an embarrassment to the school.  He believed it would be better for everyone if he were dead.

In addition to the crushing blow of my husband's affair, my son was now in crisis.

He was diagnosed with severe depression and anxiety.  My husband and I were heartbroken to learn of depth of his despair. It was overwhelming for me to see my son in so much pain. We had been cautioned that the hormones during adolescence could in some cases exacerbate autism symptoms, but we saw no advance warnings or even subtle indications of anything amiss.

He was removed from school and enrolled in the autism day program at a local mental health facility. The program spanned only a few weeks. His doctors felt confident in his steady progress, planning to transition him slowly back to school after two and a half weeks. However, because he didn’t use the insurance 'trigger words’ about wanting to hurt himself, our health insurance company would not approve his final week of treatment, which included the school transitioning. I was informed at noon on the Friday of our transition plan meeting that I had to take him home. Blue Cross refused to approve medical coverage for the final week of treatment. Experiencing this situation nauseated me, realizing first hand the increasing need for competent, accessible and medically covered mental health services.

Returning back to school, a mere two days passed before he planned to run away again. We were petrified that he would try and hurt himself. Desperate for help, I drove him back to the day program and was able to get him re-admitted.

He expressed his frustration about the ‘bad’ classes with the ‘bad’ kids. Was he being bullied? No. Were the kids mean to him? No. It was, in fact, just the opposite.  Everyone liked him. They all spoke with him. So why did he perceive that everyone hated him, the kids were bad, and everyone was conspiring against him causing him such profound loneliness?

Subsequent to the third incident in as many months, the light bulb moment appeared. Though he spent hours of counseling in the day program, more hours with a private counselor, interventions with several social workers and autism support personnel in school, no one particular person seemed to have all the pieces. The fourth meeting at school assembled everyone together including his psychiatrist, guidance counselor, autism support social workers, our school principal, my husband and myself. One of the social workers and I finally put the pieces together.

My son had been inadvertently passed over for an advanced math class last year in 7^th grade.  As a result of this, his ‘good’ (smart) friends obtained different schedules from my son. His own schedule was centered around the ‘bad’ (not academically smart) kids, who were disruptive and loud in class.  They were not serious students. He did not identify with the ‘bad’ kids, therefore he perceived he had no friends, even though everyone liked him. The isolation and loneliness he felt lead to escalating anxiety and depression. He ruminated about how the teachers and administration screwed him by not giving him the advanced class and being separated from the ‘good’ kids. Loud noise and disorder had always been triggers for him and were now amplified due to his class schedule. He was forced to endure a loud environment throughout most of his school day. The ‘good’ kids wanted to learn while the ‘bad’ kids weren’t dedicated to their work. He was only able to keep it all inside for a brief period, hiding his feelings from us at home until it became overwhelming for him.

We were lucky that our school administrators and staff accommodated his needs and adjusted his schedule. We were blessed with a wonderful support system of medical professionals and social workers. We were fortunate to have identified his issues and implement a support system now for him and hopefully assist him in facilitating a successful transition to high school.

Among his peers, my son is normally somewhat socially awkward normally, amplified now by puberty.  His perception of being deliberately overlooked because nobody liked him caused him to ruminate over this perceived insult.  His anxiety and depression intensified until he could no longer deal with these issues. And the polite, considerate, respectful, intelligent young man whom everyone had a good word to say about, melted down.  The consequence of my son’s perception and resulting anxiety caused him to sink down in the throes of severe depression. It was my son’s perfect storm.

As parents, we frequently have a sixth sense as to when something is seriously off with our children, but occasionally they succeed in hiding their true feelings.

Everyone’s experience with autism varies. All issues we experienced to date were relatively minor. Prior to this incident, our situation compared to others was almost too good to be true.

ASD affects everyone differently. Adolescence is challenging enough, but combined with autism, social situations sometimes spiral out of control. ASD has skyrocketed in the past generation. Identifying problems and procuring treatment can be difficult but crucial to our children’s mental health.