So I haven’t mentioned much about my family and nothing at all really about my extended family. There is a reason for that, we aren’t close. My talks with members of my family have been fluffy nonsense for over a decade now, nothing real or substantial.

As to my extended family I haven’t seen or spoken to them since my father’s suicide in 1994. My father hung himself in my maternal grandparents front yard. They haven’t bothered visiting or writting since, its like I don’t exist.

Yet  the other day I get a call from my mother telling me my grandmother had a mild stroke. She was able talk and function, no one really made a big deal about it. The doctors decided she was okay enough to come home less than a week later. Her first day home a get another call from my mother saying my grandmother fell and broke her hip.

After all the tests it seemed my grandmothet’s fall was caused by another stroke, this one more severe. My grandmother who used to tell me bedtimes stories with het lovely accent can’t talk anymore. The strojes took her speech. They don’t think their was brain damage but its so hard to tell. Her hip wasn”t just broken it was shatteted, they spent 12 hrs digging out bone fragments. She may never walk again. For sure she will have to have live in help and it will be weeks until she can go home again.

I always thought she would be at my wedding, I am common law married but we still want the church wedding. She might not live to Easter, let alone Christmas….not that she celebrates either being Jewish.

I spent the last 17 years angry at her for cutting us off after my father’s death, now I will never get to talk to her again.


The “A” word

Affair, it’s such a buzz word. It’s hard to not hear about affairs in this modern day and age, they are everywhere from movies to the news, music and t.v shows all seem to celebrate adultery. So how does one actually get involved in such a thing? I can’t speak for anyone else but my affair started because my husband accused me of being inappropriate with someone completely different.

It was July of 2011 and my husband and I were in a really tense place, a place that had nothing to do with adultery, or at least not on my part. As I have already mentioned I am a child abuse and incest survivor, but the way I was able to survive that was by compartmentalizing and forgetting much of it. That’s the way Dissociative Identity Disorder works, no one has the whole story so no one can tell. It’s a coping skill when you are a child and survival depends on not telling, in your are an adult it just leads to problems. I don’t have a lot of clear memories of much of my past, even though I am mostly integrated the memories seem to have blurred so nothing is as clear as it should be, though its still better than huge gaps where I don’t remember years of my life. I don’t wake up in the middle of a fight anymore and wonder what is going on which is good.

At the time of my affair I was going through the worst dissociative period of my life. My alters (other personalities) were out much of the time and I switched back and forth so often it was hard to keep track of anything. I was depressed to a level that still scares me. I started cutting at 15 after being date raped and it quickly became an addiction that I still struggle with today. At that time I was having daily thoughts of cutting myself in horrible ways, disfiguring myself by cutting on my face or removing limbs. I never acted on those thoughts but I did act on others. I have so many scars that it’s hard to tell where one stops and another begins, yet the worst one originates from this time in my life. I was working for the first time and 2 years and my alters were getting me into trouble. It’s hard to explain so people can understand, but there were others living inside me who had different ages, wants, needs, etc. Yet they still lived in my body so when one of them did something I often had to fix it. One particular alter, Nicole, was a 15 year old party girl trapped in my mid 20’s body. She was mouthy and really forward at work and ultimately I got into trouble for it. I was mortified and depressed, at work one day I decided that drinking a bottle of Windex seemed like a good idea. Luckily when I passed out they got help for me right away. Yet at the hospital they kept me only 3 days before sending me home, my suicide attempt was just a cry for attention to them.

I am a volatile person, I admit that, in some situations I react before thinking. My husband was angry with me, furious even, after my attempted suicide. We started fighting all the time. One particular time he was work and started yelling at me on the phone about the computer. I got so upset that when I got off the phone I went upstairs into the bathroom with an X-acto knife and cut my right leg. It was bad, I had never been that upset when I cut before and in my emotional state I ended up cutting a 4 inch long 2 inch deep gash into my leg just above my knee. I can’t explain to anyone who has never been addicted to anything the way I felt after cutting. It’s a high I guess.

So I ended up with 11 stitches and when I got out of the hospital my husband was so angry that he started a fight. It was this fight where he accused me of messing around with our roommates nephew, who was a 20 something drunk who repulsed me. I later learned that my husband had slept with a co-worker while I was in the hospital so it was most likely guilt that caused him to accuse me. But there I was, with stitches still in my leg and crying my eyes out trying to understand where this was coming from and he left. He moved out, for 2.5 months he left me alone in our house. I was out of work had no income, no transportation, no phone, just my computer and my friends I talked to online.

In the months before this I had been running a once a month D&D game, which is where I knew the man I had the affair with. He and his younger son played in my game as did others friends. The man who was to become my affair partner ended up being the only one who was there for me when my husband was gone. He started picking me up to go run errands with him, just to get me out of the house. He asked me questions about my life, I had known him for 5+ years and he never asked before but he saw my scars and wanted to hear about them. I told him and he made me promise to not hurt myself with out talking to him first. As you might guess things got more and more intense. He started coming by with out his son and staying longer, but it was platonic for a while. Until he told me, point blank that if I ever did anything he wouldn’t stop me. I told him I wouldn’t but I went back on that a week later when I asked him to kiss me.

The affair was short lived, his wife found out with in a week, kicked him out and he moved in with his mother. I don’t want to get into details, they are still painful, the whole thing lasted from Aug to Nov when he moved back in with his wife. My husband came home and I confessed the whole thing to him. I didn’t learn about his two One-Night Stands until one of the women told on him. My husband didn’t want details of what happened, still doesn’t, we go to counselling and I have my individual and group therapy and we are moving on with our lives.

My affair partner, tried to keep me waiting in the wings for months after he moved back in with his wife. I wasn’t having it, I eventually had to get the police involved as he was stalking my therapy office wanting to see me. I haven’t spoken to him in nearly a year, the affair ended 1.5 years ago but it still haunts me. Some days I hate him and others I miss him. Most days I look at my husband with awe that he is still here, we are stronger than we ever have been and I am saner than ever in my life.

This post is probably hard to follow, sorry its hard to tell it all. If there is a confusing point ask for clarification and I will do my best.


So I know I should know better than to actually try to explain myself to anyone. No one gets it cause no one wants to get it. Everyone would rather live in a happy normal world were violence and rape don’t happy and especially where they don’t happen to a 2 year old. Yet they do happen, they happened to ME. And I am tired of being quiet about it, I am tired of keeping my silence in order to make other people feel more comfortable.

My whole life I have been made to feel ashamed of who I was and what had happened to me. Through a miracle of therapy I have finally come to a place in my life where I don’t feel so fragile and broken. I feel I have a view point that matters and hope I can help others. That’s why I am here, it isn’t just for me, it’s to help other people too.

If you have never been broken or abused I don’t expect you to understand my experiences, it’s hard enough for me to understand them and I was there. Yes, I don’t deny that some of my experiences were of my own choosing, I made mistakes and hurt people along the way. I never meant to hurt anyone I just wanted to stop hurting myself. I was so fixated on me and my own pain that I couldn’t see passed the moment. There was no future there was just my past and I was reliving it daily.

So yes I let my pain get to me so badly that I latched on to the first person who said they wanted to make the pain go away. Yes, that man was married and had kids. Yes I had an affair with him. There is no real excuse for any of it and nothing I can say or do will unmake those choices or take back my actions. I would if it were possible. I am haunted by the fact that I hurt people, I have been hurt so often by other people that the idea of contributing to anyone elses pain makes me sick to my stomach. I can’t make amends to those I hurt, they don’t want my apologizes so instead I am trying to help other people to understand how experiences like mine effect you, so they can get the help they need.

Sorry if this is incoherient and run on. I am a bit emotional at the moment do to drama that is already occurring here on wordpress.