This is the third post in my week of soul cleansing. You can find the first two posts here and here.
I’ve been pondering this post for a long time, but frankly it just seemed way too awkward – and revealing – to write. I was on a support group call a few days ago and someone had a very similar experience, so I’m thinking that perhaps I’m not as alone in this as I thought. So, if this makes sense to even one betrayed spouse out there, just know that you aren’t the only one.
I am not a physically aggressive person. I don’t think that I have ever actually struck another human in anger… ever, even as a kid. I did throw a bottle of water at Handsome’s head at some point in the last few months, and it seemed to shock the hell out of him – which is probably indicative of how out of character that kind of thing is for me.
Based on that, it might surprise you to know that I’m reasonably certain that I seriously considered killing him the night he first disclosed his infidelity to me. I feel really weird just writing that sentence out, but it happened. After dumping his initial disclosure of lies on me, Handsome headed downstairs to sleep in our basement. I wept initially, and then… well, then I got mad, (like really, really mad), that he had done such a thing, to me, to our family, and that he only came clean because the Whore’s husband was going to out him. I was seething hot with rage.
Rage is probably the most relatable word that I can use, but it was really far beyond that. I felt with absolute clarity the depths to which he had betrayed and harmed me. I did not want revenge. I wanted him to no longer exist. The maelstrom of fury inside of me was truly like nothing I had ever felt before.
We are not gun nuts, but he is in law enforcement and my dad was an accomplished skeet shooter, so we have guns in our home. For the record I’m all in favor of gun control and background checks and closing the gun show purchase loophole and… well, generally anything that the NRA opposes. Nonetheless, I know how to shoot.
And yes, I thought seriously about where the guns are in our house, where the ammo is, whether he might be expecting my rage or if he actually managed to fall asleep now that his guilty conscience was relieved (ha! if I only knew how far from the truth that was at the time)…. and then one thought popped into my mind. I pictured our kids and how that would be the loss of both parents for them, since I knew I wasn’t going to get away with anything. I recall being absolutely fully aware that I’d go to jail. We had just had an absolutely terrific day with the kids and I couldn’t imagine them without either parent, losing their home, moving to their godmother’s, having to give up their friends and their school and their pets because of me or their asshole cheater-father. I wasn’t going to cause that.
This was not, to be honest, as linear an argument in my head as this makes it seem. I sat with these thoughts running through my head for longer than I care to admit. I did not ever touch a weapon that night (nor since then), but I had run through about every scenario I could think of in my mind. In the end, it wasn’t my great love of my husband that saved him that night. In that white-hot fury I truly did not give a shit about him. He was saved by my great love of our kids and my own moral compass.
I used to think that crimes of passion were some BS concept that defense attorneys used to get their clients off. That’s likely true in some cases, but if I could be driven to seriously evaluate the pros and cons of homicide, then I’m reasonably certain that just about anyone can. I’m pretty even keeled (or, more precisely, I was before DDay). I don’t have anger management issues, and I’m very often more pushover than powerhouse at home. I’m also a pretty law and order kind of girl. Today though? If I were on a jury and a betrayed spouse had whacked their mate in an incident worthy of 48 Hours, I get it. I can empathize. I would sign on the “not guilty by reason of temporary insanity” line in a heartbeat. I’m not talking about someone who plots and schemes for weeks, but in that heat of the moment after discovery or disclosure? I know that crazy pain and the crazier thinking that goes along with it. I’ve been there. I’m not saying that it’s right or that it makes sense (and, in fact, that’s precisely why it’s so crazy… because it makes no sense). I’m just saying that I understand.
Tomorrow: A Week of Brutal Honesty – #4 – L is for Loser
Yep! Gave Rich a black eye before he left, then two black eyes afew weeks later, and another a year later! That’s hiw long the rage stayed, and the last time frightened me because it was so long after. I thought we were better, but that rage was hiding in the shadows. You are insane at that time, and I totally get crimes of oassion.you are not alone.
Moisy
It’s so frightening and disorienting when that’s not your usual way of handling things. The woman I mentioned in the support group is positively meek and yet she tried to pit-maneuver her husband’s car off the road on their DDay. 😲 It’s that whole “Hell hath no fury…” thing, I guess.
xo
Oh yeah! X
I get it, moisy! The cycles of rage xxx
I actually turned the violence inward and was suicidal, but then decided I couldn’t do that to my son.
As for violence turned outward, there was one incident early on where Mr. P was acting very toddler-like and in answer to the question of “why did you do this?” barked at me “because I LIKED it!” Oh, really? I grabbed one of my boots and yelled, “Now I’m going to do something I like! I like whacking people in the leg with my BOOT!” and I proceeded to whack the living SHIT out of his shin.
We joke about it now. Don’t make me get my boot!
It’s amazing to me that, in crisis, so many of us think of our role as mothers and use that to ground us and to guide us. I am glad that thoughts of your son were enough to pull you from that dark place. And I’m glad that you can joke about the “boot attack.” On our DDay Handsome stood on the other side of the bed from me. I’m pretty sure it was so he could either get a head start out the door or be just out of arm’s reach… or maybe both. 🙂
xoxo
I have had more suicidal crap than hurting him crap. But have had both. I so get it. I even (not seriously) plotted to murder/hurt the first OW. I was never gonna carry it out. But I related to every person who ever has 😢
I hear you – Had I had a gun in the house? I don’t know that I would have used it, but the unbridled rage I felt…I do have a stun gun and seriously thought of using it on him hoping I’d give him a heart attack and he would die. My moral compass held me back from physically doing anything, however, every waking minute, I wished he would just die. Really, just fucking die. It would be easier than divorce.
I was just short of a breakdown. I almost drove myself to a renewed mental health hospital near where I live except that my son was beginning his mental health crisis and he was my priority.
I certainly can understand the ‘temporary insanity’ defense and I too would be bumped from a jury as well! xoxo Dolly
Yep. That’s it in a nutshell. In that moment I just really wanted him to die. Being gone (like throwing him out of the house) just seemed… insufficient. It wasn’t that I wanted him to suffer, I wanted him to not exist.
xoxo
Yup
I can easily picture me doing some serious horror movie shit to the guy, but never my wife. Any thought of her hurting makes me want to rush to her aid, in spite of what she did. At most, I had fantasies of hurting her feelings. I know, it’s lame.
It’s not lame at all, Jack. I feel that way now about my husband. I know that he is hurting and I want nothing more than to make it stop. I just know that he has to do that on his own. And yes, a year later, if I saw any of his APs when I was behind the wheel it would take every fiber or my being to not mow them down in the street. I’m sad to know that there are husbands out there who feel the exact same way about Handsome.
I don’t have a gun, but I do have my fists and my voice.
On D-Day #1 (when I thought he was “just sexting” some ho…HA!) I hit him and also punched a light switch in our bedroom SO hard that my hand was bruised and swollen for weeks (but probably broken). That damn light switch is still broken and the light turns on by itself usually at 2am…nice reminder. Dear Santa – I’ve been good, please bring me a new light switch (and maybe a gun?) 😉
D-Day #2 he was close to death in the hospital so my gun was my words, and they were so horrible I hoped the words would kill him.
Oh that rage – I felt that seeing red and blacking out rage I always believed was just an excuse for violence. Nope, it’s real and it’s almost an out of body experience, like I was in an echoey tunnel watching my crazed self. I still feel it sometimes and it makes me want to get on a plane to who-the-fuck-cares. Very scary.
I love this series, thank you for being so honest and opening the door for us to express our dark feelings too <3
It is like a blacking out rage, isn’t it? For me it was all-consuming and intense and just soooooo out of the norm for me. Very scary indeed.
I hope you get that new light switch from Santa. 🙂 Santa asked me what I wanted for Christmas yesterday, so I’m likely getting slippers and a mug or some other obviously last minute gift. Considering how many times (including recently) I didn’t think we’d see this Christmas together, perhaps I should be happy with that gift.
Great way to look at Christmas ❤️
I was reflecting back to a year ago last night and I have to give myself (and time and blogging and reading blogs and therapy and my therapist and a glass of wine here and there) credit. I’m definitely not in that dark hole this year compared to last year. Now that you have a year under your belt, I know you see the progress in yourself as well.
Your resilience in itself a gift xo
I totally understand the anger element, but I didn’t have any for a very very long time. It was possibly the biggest concern of my trauma therapist. I was just so sad and in such physical pain. I never thought of harming my husband, only myself. Totally separate actually from the self harm. I remember lying in my closet crying feeling like I literally couldn’t pick myself up off the floor. I honestly didn’t even recognize myself.
My brother, the one who knew from the beginning, actually said quite early on that he was surprised I hadn’t concocted a scheme to have BE “taken out.” We have A LOT of life insurance on BE because he basically is “the company” that supports numerous families. That has been our running joke… “hey BE, shape up, or we’ll have you taken out.” I never thought of such a thing until my brother mentioned it. 😉
On the other hand, on some of his darker days, BE actually thought of possible ways of having the OW “disappear.” So many things about him that I didn’t know.
Some of this stuff on television seems less and less crazy than it did 5 years ago. I always thought, who would kill a person if they weren’t temporarily insane?
I’m still so impressed by how well you are handling this at a year. I was a complete mess. xo
I think, Kat, that the only reason I appear to be doing well is that I’ve come to really learn and see that my husband is an addict in the most conventional sense of the word. His brain chemistry is completely askew, he engages in distorted thinking and catastrophizes, and he distances himself from those he loves and lies to them in furtherance of self-soothing. His addiction is absolutely a mental illness. It took me a while to really wrap my head around this since it seems like a bunch of BS initially. After all, sex is a normal part of life whereas heroin or alcohol are not. Having watched Handsome struggle so mightily, I know the “hold” the hits have on him is remarkably the same. That has helped me address all this with some logic and a growing ability to detach. When I was fully trying to cope based on emotion, things were awful and I was every bit the mess inside that you would expect.
This is going to sound weird, but I almost wish that Handsome had thought about offing any of his APs. It would show me that he felt remorse or regret or something. I don’t think he ever felt that way. (Now, yes, but then he didn’t.)
Funny you mention life insurance… on our trip right after DDay last year Handsome and I were having a drink one night, just the two of us, talking about things we needed to do to generally heal our family and he randomly brought up the issue of upping the life insurance we have on me. I looked at him and said “Hmmm… husband cheats, gets wife to stay, gets wife to up their life insurance, and then wacks her, collects the insurance and lives happily ever after with the Whore? It sounds like a great episode of 48 Hours or Dateline.” He was mortified and started back peddling furiously. He never brought it up again. 🤣
The things on TV seem a whole lot less crazy or outlandish to me than they did a year ago too. I think I’ve been desensitized to shock or disbelief in the last 12 months.
xo
Mr. P admitted he wanted to have the OW disappear as well, when he said that I felt I was looking at a stranger. Crazy.
I hope you are benefiting from your soul cleansing as much as those of us reading your posts and the threads coming from it. You are shining light into the dark places, and that is a very good thing for all of us. xo