What I Know Now

I am 3 years and almost 5 months to the day after my DDay. In the scheme of life, that’s really nothing. A blip. In my heart and soul, however, it feels like decades. I feel as though I have endured a lifetime of pain. In many respects I can’t believe that it has been “only” that amount of time. I have certainly aged more in 3 years than I did the previous 10.

A newer member of this very unfortunate club emailed and asked me what the present me would say to the version of myself that existed on 12/9/17. I’d say a few things, as it turns out. Here are my top 10 in no particular order. Feel free to add any of your own advice to your DDay self in the comments.

1. I know it hurts. It’s like being fully cognizant of your own murder. Days will come when you no longer feel that way. It will take time and hard work but you’ll get there.

2. As hard as it is, don’t waste a minute on the other women. It’s easy to focus on them, but they really aren’t the issue.

3. Each bad day will pass. Relish a good day when you have one. (Good days can be fleeting too, but notice and make the most of them when they appear.)

4. Progress is NOT linear. Whether you stay or leave there will be steps forward and back.

5. The best people to have around you are those who listen well and simply offer nonjudgmental support. It’s okay for someone to say “This happened to me and here is how I handled it and how it played out.” It is less helpful to have people around you who pepper their stories with “you should” or “you must.” Be very picky about who you surround yourself with and who you trust with your story.

6. You’re going to hear a lot about self-care. Just do the best you can. Don’t feel shame if you can’t make time for a walk or yoga or meditation. Some days self-care can be as simple as showering or ordering take out. Some days it can also be crying your eyes out if you’ve been holding it in. What works for someone else might not work for you.

7. Prioritize your physical and mental health needs. It’s very tempting to pour all of your attention into your spouse and focus on getting them help to “fix” them. I won’t tell you not to work to get help for your partner, but make sure that you have good therapeutic support too. And do see your doctor. The physical impacts of betrayal trauma manifest themselves in many ways, from PTSD to Kawasaki syndrome to a laundry list of auto-immune disorders.

8. Gaslighting and lies don’t suddenly end on your first DDay. Trickle truth is real. You can be as understanding and nonjudgmental as can be and your addict may still feel compelled to lie to you. Expect it, and know that your hyper-vigilance is not codependency but a common trauma symptom.

9. This experience will change you. I’m honestly not yet comfortable with the new me, but I have a feeling she’s going to change a bit more before all is said and done. I still mourn the loss of who I was, and working through that grief is both necessary and okay.

10. If you stay with your partner and they do the work you can rebuild trust and mend your relationship. I’ll never, ever forget about what my husband did, but it appears now as an occasional dull ache and not a daily stabbing, blinding pain.

You’ll notice that there is no advice here on whether to stay or leave. I could only tell my DDay self not to make a hasty decision either way. Traumatized brains don’t function really well. I needed space, time, and some therapeutic input to be able to think clearly.

In looking over the list I think I’d like to squeak in a #11: Don’t make your needs small and certainly don’t let anyone else make your needs small. Scream from the rooftops what you need. Those around you will either rise to the occasion or fall by the wayside. Either outcome is fine. Those who wither or fail to show up aren’t worth your time, and those who support you and meet you where you are at are irreplaceable.

7 thoughts on “What I Know Now”

  1. Love your list! This spoke to me, especially, “This experience will change you. I’m honestly not yet comfortable with the new me, but I have a feeling she’s going to change a bit more before all is said and done. I still mourn the loss of who I was, and working through that grief is both necessary and okay.” ❤💔

    1. I waffle about how I feel about my new self. Sometimes hourly. On the downside, I’m quicker to anger, I rarely feel carefree, and I have lost a lot of my patience. On the plus side, I recognize that I am made of fierce stuff, I’ve stopped putting my needs last, and I don’t take anything for granted anymore (I find joy in the small stuff). I don’t like some of my new habits and I miss some of my old ones. I’m hoping that with time and some deliberate effort that I can get a bit more of my old groove back. Or at least settle into some version of myself that makes me happy and feels good and right. ❤️

  2. This is a great list. I agree with everything you say here. I would also squeeze in the comment that it helps to read – and to keep on reading – the ongoing comments from people who have gone through something similar. It normalizes your own feelings and reactions – not just in the initial few months but over a period of 6 or 7 years.

    1. Absolutely DLH. I couldn’t agree more. The blogging community – both those who wrote their own blogs and those readers who commented – literally saved my sanity. Their words helped me feel supported and, most especially, not alone. That was and continues to be vital to my well-being.

      I do wish that there were more partners further out from discovery who were actively blogging, but I understand the desire to shift gears. I just know that for me seeing how people were doing years out helped me to see light at the end of the tunnel. ❤️

  3. I hear you, BA. I am right there with you. I’ve put the old me to rest. This is who I am now. I mostly like me. I’m certainly proud of myself. Two degrees, three kids who love me as much as I love them, all with a completely broken heart 👍💔❤

  4. I would advise, whatever the circumstances, to find yourself. But I know from interacting with others, that fear often prevents people from doing this. Fear of what will happen if they truly find themselves. Don’t be afraid. You are the only person you really have, and when you have you then you can help others, then you can stay, leave, do whatever you need to do, because you have you, and that ‘you’ is powerful. ❤️

    1. Great point Rosie. And I love the remark that “You are the only person you really have” because that is so very true. ❤️

Please share if you've had a similar (or totally different) experience on your journey.