My guilt...my sins are many. I have been miserable to live with. I have thought and said things that are inexcusable. Hubby, the shining beacon of a perfect husband that he is (No, I'm not being facetious. He really is that incredible and I don't deserve him.), carries no record of wrongs. But as each minute passes. I remember more and more of my transgressions.
I am being crushed under the weight of the knowledge of what I've done. I feel sick. I know what I need to do but I seem unwilling to do it. I need to cry. A lot. That's the only way, I think, I can let go of it all and forgive myself. But I just can't. I've done too much. I've broken all the rules I said I never would. I disrespected him to his face and behind his back. I was rude to him. I distanced myself from him. I stopped touching him. I withdrew intimacy. I pushed him away. I was dishonest. I lied. A lot. Mostly about where I was, especially if I was running late. I defied his authority. I decided that I was in charge of myself and he could go f*** himself (and yes, I muttered that under my breath on more than one occasion). I disobeyed him. I didn't want to do anything that I didn't want to do and he couldn't make me. I didn't care what effect my actions had on him. But the worst thing I did, in my own mind, was take back my vows. I never said it out loud. But I thought it. I wanted to rip that picture off the wall I made of the cloud version of my vows and toss it. I also looked at the very dusty box of implements and decided that that was never going to happen again so I may as well toss them in the garbage. I didn't. But I wanted to.
Yes, that's right. I was willing to throw it all away. I just didn't care. And while it was the hormones that made me this way, I am still responsible for my actions. I chose to not reign myself in, but to happily ignore how my actions affected others. I chose to let things get bad. I chose to not care. So while Hubby forgives me completely, saying to himself all those months "That's not my wife", I have to face up to the fact that it was partially me. It's the me that I keep in check most of the time, until, due to hormones, I couldn't.
This is the way I feel. Right, wrong, or indifferent, these are my feelings and I have the right to have them. But with that said, I need advice. What do I do with these feelings? How do I get them out of me? How do I forgive myself? HELP?!?! I can't stand the constant ache in my chest. What do I do?