The end of a marriage, or a new beginning? (Part I)

I don't even know where to begin.

There's not enough prayers or words of encouragement right now that can help fill the gut wrenching, heart-breaking void that is my life.

It seems these past few days a steady diet of Xanax, Lexapro, water, sleepless nights, staring in the mirror, wailing tears, and wondering when/where/what went wrong has brought my marriage to the desolate wasteland that it now appears to be.

The family came together and had the intervention this past Sunday, but it's not the outcome I was hoping for, nor the way I would have started it. Even though my SIL/BIL only have the best of intentions, and really want to help me and my wife they tipped our hat about the "meeting" before I even knew the hour. Of course, my wife felt naturally betrayed by me and places 99% of the blame, vitriol, anger, and venom at my feet without even knowing how events were set in motion. Everyone explained to me that I should expect that, but unless you are in my shoes, with my heart, and my mind, I can't even begin to explain the level of hurt, frustration, pain, and emptiness I feel.

All the hugs, prayers, supportive words, and telling me I did the "right" thing, doesn't make any of this any easier to cope. They say it gets better with time, but I've never been big on cliches and the big looming question mark over my head and the state of where we stand.

It was a family decision to have an intervention, not just mine. And even then, I was wishy-washy, scared, feeling vulnerable, and not really 100% emotionally/mentally prepared. I really wanted to wait one more week, but the Interventionsist seemed to convince everyone else that 'now' was the time, not next week. I personally think it was a mistake that my BIL notified my wife via text message of a "family meeting" on her way to a concert and without telling me first. But he pulled the trigger, and events were set in motion.

My wife was on her way to a concert with her girlfriends. Imagine what the conversation was like that night. In an instant, I became public enemy #1 with her friends, and they don't even know my side of the story.

I was expecting to have a calm night at "my" house....watch a little TV, take a shower, make some dinner, go to bed. Instead, once my SIL informed me that my wife now knew, my heart sank and ice ran through my veins. Oh great, I need to get out of the house lest my wife come home late, inebriated, and start a fight with me.

I packed a change of clothes, grabbed a few toiletries, and my dog and left for my parents house. Sure enough, my phone started to receive not so nice text messages from my wife. I couldn't respond, lest I get sucked in deeper. I turned my phone off and spent the night at my parents...in tears and in fear of why, oh dear God, why am I being put through this?

My wife called my parents at 1:30am and demanded to speak with me. My mother, who answered said "No, he's sleeping and I'm not going to wake him." She called a a few more times and gave up, the whole time we thought she may drive down herself. Thank goodness she didn't.

I spent the remainder of my waking hours praying for strength and comfort and peace...sadly...not much was attained...the whole time I kept thinking "Well, this is it. The beginning of the end of my marriage of 8 years. I don't want a divorce, but for the life of me I can't see how this is going to end on a positive note. Why God? Why?"

Next: D-day