I Just Don't Get It...

...and I don't think I ever will.

Last week was a fucking nightmare.  On Wednesday, my son walked out of the back door of his school while I was waiting in front to pick him up.  He had become overwhelmed and decided to take off.  For nearly two and a half hours, I drove aimlessly in the vicinity of the school and around a three mile radius checking parks he liked to frequent, looking up and down side streets. My husband had to cancel two appointments, pick up my other son, then join in the search. I finally got a phone call from one of his classmates' mothers who saw him, knew his history of walking off and drove him to me.  

The next day, at his weekly counseling appointment, I spoke briefly with his doctor before he did.  I told her I get the anxiety. I understand feeling totally overwhelmed. But I don't get what is in his head when he walks out knowing I'm there waiting and we have to pick up his brother.  His brother, who adores him, is getting fucked up because of his stunts.  It's the depression and anxiety they say.  He doesn't think, he acts.  And I said to the doctor, "I just don't get it."  

I have severe situational anxiety. Escalating over the affair and my son's recent issues, it has not eased up. I can not just walk out the back door and leave everyone to fend for themselves.  I sometimes think about just leaving and taking off. But I'm an adult and I can't just run away.  My kids depend on me.  So when I see my son just take off, I understand his frustration.  I understand his anxiety.  But running off? I just don't get it.

Every day as I sit in my car in front of my son's school, I wonder if he's going to come out the front door.  Every. Single. Day.  Did he have a bad day? Is he going to come out, or take off?  My hair is falling out.  Seven years ago I had severe stress when my mother-in-law became severely ill. I had some hair loss then that was attributed to stress.  It is happening again, only worse.  As a young woman, I had a mane of lush thick hair.  After the first round of stress in my 40's, it thinned out.  For the past few weeks, every time I wash or brush my hair, a handful comes out.  

In October when my husband and I had our big 'talk' and decided to try and save our marriage had he come clean, I wouldn't be at the point I am today. Between the stress in dealing with my son's depression and my husband's affair, I am overwhelmed.  Maybe had he been honest and laid it all on the table, I wouldn't be replaying everything over and over again.  

Why am I punishing myself pouring over the cell phone bills again? Why am I thinking over and over of the two of them together, where they were, what they were doing?  

A year ago we returned from a family weekend out of state and their phone calls were ramping up to a ridiculous level.  I went to the beach for a few days to bring our stuff and he was there until 4am.  The kids and I came home for my sons middle school promotion ceremony.  We were barely on the road back to the beach and they were at it again.  From the cell phone records, I can pinpoint when he went there and what time he left, because he'd call when he arrived and she'd call him on the way home. If they went out, I could see the location of calls that came in on his cell phone which gave me a solid idea as to the restaurant they were at. 

For eight months I asked him 'Did you sleep with her?', 'Where did you take her?', and 'Did you tell her 'I love you'?' 

Where he took her was easy for me to find out. Even though he keeps his credit card statements private, I could access the phone records and find out recent charges going back quite far.  So that was never really an issue. 

He insisted he never slept with her.  He looked me in the eye, over and over and denied it.  He gave me reasoning that actually made sense.  Deep down I knew the answer, but there was a shred of hope that he didn't.  That hope lived because I just don't get it.  I don't get cheating.  Just leave.  I would have agreed to a separation or divorce.  Be man enough and do the right thing.  He preaches holier than thou, no one lives up to his morals.  He criticizes people who cheat.  He loathes them and their weakness.  And then he did it himself.  He wrote a check his ego couldn't cash.  He can't take responsibility for his cheating, his ego won't allow him to reconcile the deed.  On one hand he says it's his fault, his decision to cheat, but in the next breath he blames me. If I didn't do what I did, he never would have made that decision. 

So what really set me off with the skank?  There were two major triggers, one will be forthcoming in a future post.  The second? The resurfacing of 'the skank'.  We put up a Facebook page for my husband's business.  He does not have a personal Facebook account, (nor Twitter, Instagram or any other social media account), and has no interest in having one.  However, we created a page through my account for his business.  I shared it publicly on my personal page and within an hour, the skank liked his page, profile picture, cover photo and his initial post.  I was livid.  In retrospect, as I controlled the page, I should have just shut up and waited to see if she'd contact him, but one of my sons saw the likes.  They know who she is.  He said, "What's she doing here?"  And I lost it.  But again, she knows he doesn't have, nor wish to have a social media presence, so perhaps the likes were to irritate me.  It worked.  

So I taunted her again on my Facebook, again pretty subtly so my Facebook friends didn't really notice, but enough to irritate the shit out of her.  She and her trash friend ended up commenting on one of my posts.  On her comment, which was in fact insignificant, I replied, 'we need to chat'.  She replied 'No we don't.'  Before the comment, I had messaged her to pick a time and place where we could grab a drink and clear the air.  Once she commented, I changed my Facebook settings to only friends that can comment on public posts.  I set all the prior posts to friends, blocked messages from her and her scumbag friend (who was at her house several times when my husband was there last summer) and I banned her from my husband's business page which prevents her from liking, posting or commenting on his page.  In order to get her 'like's' off his pictures, I deleted, then restored the profile and cover photos.  

The friend's comment was nasty, I deleted it right away before anyone had a chance to see, so I actually didn't read it all, but the gist of it referenced my daily good morning posts, date night posts and then referred to my 'gourmet meals' which were part of my Instagram feed. Since they are not so much on my public Facebook posts, so she only confirmed that those low life skanks were trolling my Instagram.  I changed that to a private account.

The skank refused to speak with me. I wanted to hear what she has to say and I was sure she'd love that chance to throw it in my face. I also wanted to see if she'd tell me what my husband was hiding from me.  I told my husband I tried to contact her.  He was angry.  I said too fucking bad.  He said if I do and anything happens, don't talk to him about it.  So what the fuck is that?  What is he afraid she'll tell me?  He didn't knock her up, because he's fixed. So what is it that will get me so upset? But no, no conversation. Did they speak ahead of time.  Did she call him? Did he tell her not to speak with me? He said he'd tell me if she contacts him.  Maybe that's a lie. Maybe he's already spoken with her.  

Two weeks from leaving for the beach, one year since the affair started and we are back to square one.  I don't trust him.  There may not be anything more to uncover, but I don't trust him.