Something has been on my mind. And I really can’t talk about this anywhere else but here.
I was thinking about this the other day. The fact that, even though I had an anonymous blog, I never did write about my affair with Nial. I never processed it- well at least on paper I never did.
I ran. And that became my therapy, spending countless hours rehashing everything Niall ever said to me. And going over everything a million times in my head. To the point of exhaustion and finally letting him and the memories of him go.
For roughly two years, I was ok. But then my health declined. And I’ve wondered now…did the stress of everything cause my auto-immune disease? Should I have blogged about it? Would that have helped?
I’m such an independent person. And although I love to write, back then, I just needed the solitude as the pain was too great to even articulate.
I loved Niall. And despite knowing in my heart that we should both stay with our spouses, it didn’t change the fact that I loved him dearly. And losing him from my life cut deeper than I said. The pain of losing him was brutal…as well as the aftermath of our affair.
Because I am stubborn and independent, I’m not someone to raise my hand saying, “I need help.” I handle everything on my own. Always have, always will. Is that detrimental to my health?
What if that mentality backfired and triggered an auto-immune disease to develop?
I have so many thoughts along these lines. I would love to purge myself of any memories of Niall. But I can’t. That’s not how affairs and memories work. Niall is still there….
Sure you move on, but the memories are like a caboose that follows you around. Depending on the curvature of the track, sometimes you see them clearly. Other times they are hidden from view, stuck in a dark tunnel, as you chug along the track.
It doesn’t help that I ran into Niall’s wife last week at the annual Christmas Lighting ceremony. Vivianne had run ahead to look at a store window display since it was decorated for the holidays. As I stood on the north side windows, less than 8 feet away, there she stood staring at the very same display- but from another angle.
My heart dropped. And I scanned the crowd like an FBI agent, while feverishly texting my best friend to, “Fuck! Come to X,Y,Z store NOW!” Bless her heart, she was there in minutes, as we had gone together to the event.
Niall wasn’t there but of course, it made me think of him. How could I not? One second I am enjoying the holidays, the next second, that Niall caboose was suddenly the first carriage of my memory train. Front and center…and it all came flooding back.
So the memories have been triggered by another casual run in. It’s bound to happen where we live. So it’s kind of expected, but still a shocker every time. It doesn’t get any easier. The entire thing has made me wonder if I should finally write my affair story. And get it all out on paper.
Do I need to process something? Could it make my condition worse? Is it somehow causing my current condition?
I don’t feel stressed, as of today. But then again, if the doctors knew about what I have gone through these past few years, I wonder if they would say, “Yeah, stress can cause all sorts of symptoms. Even yours.” Or, “Absolutely not. Stress wouldn’t cause this. And could not trigger an auto-immune disease.”
I would love to hear your honest thoughts…as this is a sincere question and point of discussion going around in my head.