Must be said...

Even though no one is out there reading any of my mind trash, I need to see myself write something. Meaning: I need to see it physically in black and white.

I am not a faithful person.

Well, I was a faithful person, for a long while. Romantically loyal and faithful, supportive to the end kind of person. That is, until cocaine and bipolar disorder entered my life. The husband and I had been married for a few years when I  found out he had a severe cocaine addiction. In the span of a few months he stopped coming home for days, money was missing, valuables were gone, and a list of other "strange" behaviors were being displayed. When I found the cocaine in his wallet he denied it (of course), but it instantly all made sense to me. About a month after finding out, I came home from work one day sick, and found him packing all of his possessions and loading them into his truck. He was trying to move out without even telling me, my heart permanently broke that day. I found out two weeks later he had moved in with a woman he worked with, but he refused to admit he was romantically involved with her. I tried to find happiness and support in my friends, some were very loving and kind, other, well, they refused to be around me at all. A few weeks passed and I began to realize I would indeed make it, I was surviving and I was starting to thrive. When he left he took his love, but also the burden of caring for and worrying about him. I felt free for the first time I could ever remember. Then, he called. One afternoon at work he called me and asked if I loved him. I fell to pieces all over again. He asked me to have dinner with him, and I did. He came home that night; he looked awful, sounded awful and just seemed miserable. When we went to his apartment to get his things, all of his clothes were in the bedroom (the only bedroom). At the time I didn't say anything, I was relieved to have him back. In the back of my mind, I knew he was having a relationship with this woman.

Fast forward a few years. All of the pain of his betrayal boiled inside me. With no way to express my hurt and anger, I began to look outside of our marriage for happiness and revenge. Between the hurt of the past, and the bipolar, I'm trapped in a mangled mess of a marriage. In my fragmented and unfair view of reality, I look for happiness and love anywhere I can find it. It's not right, it's sinful, and I hate myself for it most of the time. But, when an outsiders smile lights the dark voids of my heart, it's almost impossible to resist.

I'm a religious person (obviously not a good one), but I beleive in God. I've confessed and prayed for help and guidance, but a concrete path is NOT clear.