Didn't "technically" cheat, but still feel like I did...

[Lorelai]

... and I confessed this week.

 

I'll try to explain. Guy and I had been together awhile, but he was blowing hot and cold, using school and work as an excuse for being busy, etc. When school let out and things didn't change, I was very unhappy. I recently lost a lot of weight, and decided to try to get an ego boost by dressing up sexy and going out to a bar.

 

At the time, my thought was that I wanted to feel pretty and desired, and definitely was seeking attention and admiration from men, even if I did not have the intent of being "picked up". I went to a bar that my sister and brother-in-law used to work that, that I went to while underage -- not the usual "pick-up bar".

 

I should have gotten a buddy. I shouldn't have drank two Long Islands when I got there (with the plan of either staying until I sobered up and or the place closed). And I certainly shouldn't have fallen for the line the ... I can't think of the right word that's socially acceptable here ... gave, but it was certainly a completely different tactic than any of the other men who had come to sit beside me and offer me a drink, etc. I immediately said I had a boyfriend when he came up, he said he'd just gotten out of a relationship and wasn't looking for even a rebound, just wanted someone to talk to. I wasn't even attracted to him. And the line wasn't to go back and watch a movie.... we'd gotten talking about movies because of the NTN trivia at the bar, and had all four of the Thomas Harris movies in HD rip on his computer, that he could throw them on a thumb drive and it'd only take five minutes.

 

I shouldn't have left with him. I shouldn't have gotten out of the car. I'm VERY glad I turned down the drink he offered me (the only smart thing I did that entire evening), and I shouldn't have entered the bedroom a few minutes later when he asked me to come in for a second (I'd been staying in the living room, hadn't even sat down).

 

He basically blitzed me when I entered the room, and because I'd had the stupidity to dress sexy (long sarong skirt, but I did have underwear on, it's just not much of an impediment -- I wish I'd chosen the tight jeans instead), it wasn't an issue of me being able to have enough clothing to have gotten him off of me before he had the opportunity to penetrate. I fought, I screamed, I think he got about four thrusts in before he realized I wasn't going to just stop fighting and give in, and his neighbors would hear. When I actually got to see him after he was off of me, I was grateful that he'd apparently put a condom on while I was waiting in the living room. I made him drive me back to the bar.

 

I immediately got into my car, drove to the nearest hospital that offered the MAP (even though it didn't get to ejaculation, there was a rubber, and I have an IUD) and asked for it and STD prevention help. My dad died of HIV and I'm really, REALLY friggin paranoid about diseases, so I got post-exposure prophylaxis for that too, and a few days of pain medication for the tearing. And I thought a lot, while they continued to pressure me to report it (I've been raped before, I did report it, he admitted what happened and still no charges were pressed -- it added far more trauma to the recovery by involving the law and I just wanted to address my health). About why I went out that night. About why, if I actually HAD a "boyfriend", why I didn't feel like I could call and tell him what happened. I came to the conclusion that if anyone could have been considered "asking for it", I was, and I was able to admit that if the right guy had given me the right line, I very well may have cheated because I was so unhappy.

 

So I told him -- not about the rape, but that I was unhappy and I didn't think he was into the relationship. It ended up being two weeks before we actually saw each other, and he didn't respond to my email rapidly at all. I was taking all my pills still for me, even though they made it where the sunburn I'd gotten a little bit before would not heal at all... a week later, while waiting for him to have the time to address the relationship issues, I was still turning pinker sitting in the shade.

 

I had to push before he even responded, and I was ready to walk away. He said the reason he was staying away was not because he didn't want me, but because he was depressed, and admitted that he'd lied about something to me -- he'd dropped a couple of classes and was still using the excuse of school to stay away.

 

I couldn't bring myself to tell him. And I let him have sex with me, without telling him, despite the fact he and I did not use condoms. It was far harder to orgasm, and I faked it sometimes, but I enjoyed the sex... because I just wanted to forget about what happened, and our sex has always been good. I could lose myself in it, and even if I didn't climax as often as I normally did, it was his body touching me, not the ... unprintable word's. Still, more lies.

 

See, I'm a weird girl. Because of my Dad, my major fidelity rule has been "No matter what, if you sleep with someone else, you tell me before you sleep with me again." I didn't deliberately sleep with someone, and I did my best to keep myself protected. I really didn't anticipate that we'd ever see each other again, and when he was actually wanting to work things out...

 

Well, as I'm sure all of you can guess, it didn't work out. The guilt was eating me alive, I was apparently showing all sorts of PTSD reactions a lot stronger than I had in many many months (he'd been aware of my past), and it was driving him crazy. Last week, things came to a head for me on the PTSD issue after I was housesitting for a friend and some dude busted up in the house. Nothing happened, he wasn't trying to hurt me, but it started things back up even worse.

 

And last week, I finally had to admit that I'm going to have to file for disability. I'm way too damn young to do it (33) but I'd been in the hospital three times in a year (twice for physical problems, once for mental), lost my job because of it, was running out of my savings and got sick again. (I'm really in no place for a relationship at all, and we weren't dumb enough to move in together yet, thank goodness.) I needed to go back to therapy. I needed to address the stuff that happened. So I went to the local free mental health clinic, got my intake done...

 

... and forced a confrontation. He was not wanting to talk. But I knew I had to. There'd been other signs that week while I was sick that he was not into things (wanting to take back "gifts" while they were still in the 30-day return period that I would only need if I was with him). So I told him. Everything. That was when he admitted he'd been about ready to break up with me.

 

-----

 

So, we're at least on a break now, and while he was kind enough to offer to help me move (one of the other things going on in my life, I finally found a residence that wasn't with him that was closer to what I could afford -- though there were issues there too) this weekend, I've made other arrangements. All the physical exchange stuff is done, no logistical reasons left for contact. I think I have two of his towels, he may have a few pairs of my socks -- unless he asks for the towels, he can keep the socks.

 

I think it's over.

 

I think it should have been over when I realized I wasn't getting enough attention from him that I wanted to have guys ogle me and hit on me to make me feel good about myself.

 

I still feel like I cheated, because I sought attention from other men, and because I did not tell him that a penis entered my vagina, even if it was without my consent.

 

At this point my plan is to tell him, whenever he writes if he ever does (he said he wanted time to think about things and would write me), that we just need to end things. I should have broken up with him before ever going out that night. I ignored risks that I normally don't (when I met my now-ex, I was paranoid enough that I had safe-calls set up for the entire date, since we met online). I was acting completely against my normal inclinations.

 

And I think I'm far too complicated for him, and have far too many things to work out before getting involved with anyone.

 

I just wish he could have said he thought he might be able to forgive me for not telling him about the rape. And, really, kind of wish I'd just lied some more and either said I just wanted to end things or said I actually did literally and intentionally cheat. I think he'd have believed it, because I feel guilty enough for every stupid thing I did wrong that night, and my intentions for going out (to get "innocent" attention from other men... which I got, for sure. Just not the right kind.) At least then I'd know he wasn't torturing himself, just being justifiably angry at me. (I mean, really... talk about a guilt trip, right? You neglect your girl, she goes out because she's unhappy and gets raped? How could I tell him then? It wasn't his fault, it was mine. I knew honesty was the only way if anything could be salvaged that it would be, but if I'd been less selfish and was willing to let him go rather than hurt him potentially worse by telling him the truth, it would have been kinder, I think.)

 

Doubt anyone here will actually have any advice, except to do what I'm already doing -- work on myself, don't drink, and try to learn from the mistakes I made... all of them, not just the ones I made that night.

[Lorelai]

You've got issues, girl. I can't help you.

 

But I hope this post makes some of the "lighten up caveman, and let your gal slut around meat markets w/o you" crowd think twice for calling someone controlling for not wanting their SO to act like that.

 

Hence why I'm seeking help from professionals, just more venting here.

 

And no, I wouldn't have went out like that if I'd been happy with the level of contact in the relationship (at that point he was seeing me less than twice a month, not contacting me often at all between dates and only if I initiated or to ask for a date -- basically treating me like a booty call IMHO, which says a lot more about me for accepting the behavior than it does about him).

 

I do think the "girl going out with the pack" is a heck of a lot safer, for all involved, but if a person is going out with the intention I did -- not to just have fun, but to get validation they're not getting from their man and feel like they're sexy, even if they have no conscious intention of sleeping with anyone -- there is a problem.

[Chi townD]

I agree. I strongly recommend that you seek out individual counseling. I seriously think you need to sit down with a professional to sort this stuff out.

 

Now, no one here is pawning you off, people will be here to support you, but you have a lot more going on in your life that really can't be sorted out on an advice forum.

[Lorelai]

I agree. I strongly recommend that you seek out individual counseling. I seriously think you need to sit down with a professional to sort this stuff out.

 

Now, no one here is pawning you off, people will be here to support you, but you have a lot more going on in your life that really can't be sorted out on an advice forum.

 

I understand that. That's why I tried to make it clear I was already seeking the help I needed. I had the first part of the intake yesterday, the second will be on Monday.

 

But you're right, I probably shouldn't have posted at all. Was more looking to see if anyone'd had a similar experience, that's what I look to peer support for. Professional help comes from pros.

[Chi townD]

No..no..no... you got me wrong! You have every right to post here and please continue to do so! All I'm saying is that you have some deep stuff going on and it's very important that you get that sorted out.

 

I mean, you were raped. As brief as the encounter was...it's still rape. But, to address the other stuff. You stated that you didn't technically cheat....Well; actually, you did. A good definition of cheating is doing or saying something with someone else that you wouldn't do infront of your significant other. That's cheating. You dressed a little TOO sexy to go out. That wasn't for your mans benefit, it was for other men. You flirted with other men because you wanted THEIR attention. Not your boyfriends, other men! I'm sure you wouldn't have behaved that way if he was in the room. Therefore, you cheated. You sought validation from others instead of the one that you really needed it from.

 

You need to understand why you did that. You also need to understand why you never communicated with your boyfriend about what happened. Because, you not doing that pushed him away. You had such a big secret wrapped in pain that subconsciously, you were probably lashing out at him and you didn't even realize it. It pushed him away.

 

Just my thoughts on it.

[Lorelai]

You stated that you didn't technically cheat....Well; actually, you did. A good definition of cheating is doing or saying something with someone else that you wouldn't do infront of your significant other. That's cheating. You dressed a little TOO sexy to go out. That wasn't for your mans benefit, it was for other men. You flirted with other men because you wanted THEIR attention. Not your boyfriends, other men! I'm sure you wouldn't have behaved that way if he was in the room. Therefore, you cheated. You sought validation from others instead of the one that you really needed it from.

 

You need to understand why you did that. You also need to understand why you never communicated with your boyfriend about what happened. Because, you not doing that pushed him away. You had such a big secret wrapped in pain that subconsciously, you were probably lashing out at him and you didn't even realize it. It pushed him away.

 

Just my thoughts on it.

 

Agreed entirely, which is why I said what I did felt like cheating, at least emotional cheating. I sought attention from other men. I was playing first-degree "RAPO" according to Eric Berne, and I should have known better since it's a book I'm familiar with (though Berne opines that "first-degree" gaming is so close to socially acceptable that while it's not good, it's nearly normal, and that particular one is one of the most dangerous of the "first-degree" games):

 

Sexual Games People Play: RAPO

 

And a lot of the reason I kept silent about it except getting the medical help I needed (he was the first person to know aside from medical professionals, and I waited nearly two months before I couldn't deny it anymore) was the guilt I already had for going out in the first place and playing that first-degree game, the worry that he would try to make me track him down (which I could have, if I'd had someone drive me back the route that night), the fear that he would reject me, and essentially a lack of trust both in his level of attachment to the relationship and what his reaction would have been.

 

I did NOT want all the bloody drama that happened when I was assaulted before (which is what had landed me in the hospital the one time for mental issues). I'm sick of being a bloody victim, I'm sick of being TREATED like a victim, and in the immediate aftermath, all I wanted to do was go home and sleep, for a very, very long time. I wanted it all to go away and pretend it never happened.

 

And when we attempted to get back together... the guilt was still there, and the lack of trust had been reinforced by learning he had in fact been lying about why he wasn't seeing me as often.

 

And finally, though while I really thought about it at the time and it was the most primary reason at the time, when we were talking after me trying to discuss the problems I have in the relationship, as to why i didn't tell, I have to say it's the worst reason... I felt he would blame himself. When we were trying to talk he was all into the whole apology/guilt trip already saying he'd been a terrible boyfriend for neglecting me and not talking to me more. I tried three times to say it, but the words never came out... I couldn't.

 

And then he started touching me.... and my thought was just to escape into it.

 

Yeah, I'm ****ed up. I wish this had happened differently, because I really do care about him and never wanted to hurt him. And all the justifications in the world that I can come up with about how I tried to shield him from both medical danger (by being on antibiotics and anti-retrovirals, though I'd started them for me) and psychological harm... I was still very much in the wrong. If I really cared as much as I feel like I do, I should have treated him better.

[Chi townD]

 

 

I did NOT want all the bloody drama that happened when I was assaulted before (which is what had landed me in the hospital the one time for mental issues). I'm sick of being a bloody victim, I'm sick of being TREATED like a victim, and in the immediate aftermath, all I wanted to do was go home and sleep, for a very, very long time. I wanted it all to go away and pretend it never happened.

 

 

Well, that's a simple fix. Stop being a victim. Stop viewing yourself AS a victim.

 

You need to find the motivation to get your life back in order. Probably with seeking validation through others only re-enforces that you have low self-esteem and a low opinion of yourself. You seek out validation from others to tell you that, that isn't the case. But, the big problem is that you've failed to see your own self worth! And when you have a hard time loving yourself, people have a hard time loving you!

 

So, I think that (even though it hurts) it's best that you're by yourself for a while. SO, you can give yourself the attention that YOU need to heal. To fix you. To make positive changes in your life and reap the benefits from the new you that you're trying to create for yourself.

 

So, it's time to stop being a victim. It's time to start being a survivor!