So, you want to know how I clawed my way back from that whole emotional infidelity mess? Man, it wasn’t a walk in the park, let me tell you. It felt like my world just… cracked. One day everything’s humming along, or so you think, and the next, BAM! You find out stuff, and it’s like a punch to the gut. Left me reeling, truly.
The First Hit and the Fog
Honestly, when I first found out, I just froze. My brain went into screensaver mode. For days, I was just going through the motions. Eating? Barely. Sleeping? Ha, good one. It was like living in a thick fog. I’d replay conversations, looks, little moments, trying to see what I missed. Drove myself nuts doing that, by the way. Don’t recommend that part. It’s a rabbit hole with no cheese at the end.
I remember just sitting there, a lot. Staring at walls. The TV would be on, but I wasn’t watching. My mind was just a scrambled egg of confusion, hurt, and a whole lot of “why?”. It’s a heavy load, that “why.”
Trying to Make Sense of the Nonsense
After the initial shock wore off a bit, then came the… well, the flailing. I tried to talk about it. Oh boy, those conversations. Awkward doesn’t even begin to cover it. Sometimes it felt like we were speaking different languages. Lots of tears, mine mostly, if I’m being honest. Sometimes anger. I wasn’t a saint through this, not by a long shot.
I read some stuff online, you know, the usual articles. Some of it made sense, some of it felt like it was written for robots, not actual humans with messy feelings. It was all very “five steps to this” and “seven ways to that.” Life ain’t that neat, is it?
The hardest part for me was realizing I couldn’t control the other person. Or their feelings. Or their choices. That was a big, ugly pill to swallow. I wanted to fix it, to understand it, to make it go back to how it was. But you can’t unscramble an egg, right?
Shifting the Focus – My “Okay, What Now?” Phase
There wasn’t a magic moment, no sudden epiphany. It was more like a slow, creaky turn. I got tired. Tired of feeling awful, tired of the endless replays in my head. I realized I had to do something for me. Not for us, not for them, but for my own sanity.
So, what did I actually do? Well, it was a bunch of small things, really. Nothing groundbreaking.
- I started small. Like, really small. Making my bed. Taking a shower even when I didn’t want to see my own reflection. Little routines.
- I got moving. I’d just walk. Put on some music, or sometimes just listen to the city sounds. Didn’t have a destination. Just needed to feel my legs moving, feel like I was going somewhere, even if I didn’t know where.
- I reconnected with things I liked. Old hobbies I’d let slide. For me, it was dusting off my old guitar. Fumbled a lot, sounded terrible at first, but it was something mine. Something that wasn’t tied to the mess.
- I talked to a friend. A real friend, someone who’d just listen without trying to “fix” it or give a ton of advice unless I asked. Just having someone witness my pain without judgment was huge.
- I set some boundaries. This was tough. Deciding what I would and wouldn’t accept anymore. Meant some difficult conversations, and sometimes just walking away from conversations that were going nowhere.
- I gave myself permission to feel whatever I was feeling. Sad? Okay. Angry? Fine. Confused? Yep, that too. Trying to bottle it up just made it worse. I journaled a bit, just splurged all the ugly thoughts onto paper. It helped get them out of my head.
The Long Haul – It’s a Process, Not a Destination
Look, I’m not going to sit here and tell you it’s all sunshine and roses now. Healing from this stuff isn’t linear. Some days are good. Some days, something small will trigger a memory, and it’s like a little wave of that old hurt washes over me. But the waves get smaller, and they don’t knock me over anymore.
I learned a lot about myself. About resilience, I guess. About what I truly value. It’s like, when something breaks, you can try to glue it back together exactly as it was, or you can see it as a chance to build something new, maybe something different, maybe something stronger in the broken places.
It’s about taking it one day at a time. Seriously. Sometimes one hour at a time. And being kind to yourself through it. You didn’t ask for this, and you’re doing the best you can to navigate it. That’s what I kept telling myself. And eventually, I started to believe it.
So yeah, that was my journey, more or less. Messy, bumpy, and definitely not something I’d want to repeat. But I got through it. And if you’re in that fog right now, just know that it can lift. Slowly, but surely.
