Drastic Measures

The last few days I have been all over the place. From wanting to scream at the top of my lungs to crying so hard I sounded like a dying animal... to for a few minutes of calm distraction. Like now, writing, tv on, sipping water with the cat on my lap. And then the anxiety overwhelms me.

HOW could he do this? WHY did he do this? WHY? WHY WHY WHY? WHY did you do this Matty? Matty! Why? I think about him being here and lying straight to my face... my stomach churns.

The psychologist held me after IOP (outpatient thing) to talk... I heard myself saying aloud to her that I hated myself. No wonder I wish I was dead. Right now I can feel my blood pressure skyrocketing and my body flushing red all over and just... overwhelmed with emotional exhaustion. On Friday I realized just how much I was holding it in. I (apparently) was sitting very taunt and tense in the chair, arms crossed, holding myself for an hour while everyone talked and when it got to my turn it just came exploding out of me. I was crying so hard they could barely understand me and shaking and I couldn't bear to look at anyone. One woman was there because her husband liked to look at things online... you know what I mean... and had cheated like 12 years before. She jumped all over me and was like "And you didn't know about his wife and child?" I didn't even know his real name! Of course I didn't know he was married! But I could hear her judgment and skepticism before she would accept my story and that hurt.

The therapist said something about how I must feel rejected and how I wasn't looking for closure and I was like, HUH? First of all, this was the first and only relationship where I NEVER felt personally rejected! Never! There isn't anything wrong with me and there never was! I was perfect in every way and he told me so! And of course I want closure. Of course, I can't close the book on this yet, but being able to have a final conversation with him would be invaluable. That's closure to me. And I want that more than anything. To look at his face and know his real name and to have him look at me, just me seeing him... even that... it would be enough. He never looked at me when I was there... and I understand... but it made it that much more horrible for me. And nobody cares about me. Because I am "the other woman." Even though, I never knew I was. I will always be hated for the crime I didn't know I committed. I was victimized more than his family was! I let a con man into my home, into my life... in every sense of the word. For her, yes, he had an affair, or he cheated on her, but that was it. For me, all of this is much more traumatic and going to affect me in so many ways for so much longer.

But it's wrong for me to think those things about her... because she is the wife and it is not her fault and she is innocent... and I am the other woman and always will be. And I hate myself.

I want and need to do something drastic. Dye my hair blonde, or go to Canada or camp in the desert or embark on a cross country trip and lay in the grass and stare at the sky and feel alone. I hate the term "find myself" because it is so touchy feely and I feel, really sort of stupid, but... I think I lost myself here. I don't want to be here. I don't want to be me anymore. I want to be someone else. I want to go somewhere or do something really different and just escape.

I want to run away.

And because I am too upset to work I have around $100 in my bank account, which is the lowest it has ever been since I was in college. And I feel terrified. And trapped.