So, I made my original post before I read the rest of the thread but now I have I can’t not make a couple of points in light of what @Lockdowntown has said.
So, as I detailed above I was the long term mistress of someone for years, so my high horse isn’t very high. You’re getting no judgement from me about your actions in terms of the affair, but this behaviour is really awful and the result of some pretty disordered thinking. Forget about your wife- because for whatever else you feel about her you clearly don’t like her- but what about you and your kids and your mistress come to that? I have to agree with @Lochie662 that you’ve allowed your own integrity to be eroded and that can’t feel good. Deep down you’re still struggling even if it’s a different kind of struggling.
As I mentioned, I was the mistress of a man who was deeply, deeply damaged. He was a selfish fucker who chose to have an affair and keep one going, but that doesn’t mean that he wasn’t really sad and that some of that sadness wasn’t done to him thorough no fault of his own: his mum left, he had a baby that was stillborn with a long term partner who never got over the trauma and left him broken hearted. He was fucked up and sad and definitely had PTSD. But rather than dealing with that trauma he got into an unfulfilling marriage and then met me when I was 17 and thought I was the balm to heal his pain. Instead he just gave ME PTSD too. And you know what I did? Once we split and I was so sad and broken too, I embarked on an unfulfilling relationship with a man who worshiped the ground I walked on. And I was a fucker to him: was inconsistent and cruel, would stand him up just for the sake of making someone suffer, I was seeing him but I had casual things with other men. I was 23, 24 and badly hurt with various substance abuse issues and huge trauma, so in my mind I could justify it but it was ultimately unjustifiable and I knew it.
Then I met my now husband and he was just lovely. Kind and good and clearly just not going to dedicate his life to some scrappy little scrubber who was using her own PTSD as an excuse for being a cunt to people. I made it clear I was up for it- by this time I lived with the poor man who I was taking out my revenge on the Male sex with- and my husband said very firmly that he thought I was lovely and everything but this wasn’t how he wanted to do this.
It was the wake up call I needed: I left my boyfriend, cleaned up my act and got some therapy. Within two years I was married to my now husband. But I can see SO clearly the other path that I could have taken, the one where I justified all of my bad behaviour for a lifetime because I had been hurt. But that was MY choice to carry that on.
I know it’s not exactly the same as you- you’re still with the person who hurt you and you now have kids- but it’s just a different version of the same thing. You love your wife, you say? No you don’t. That’s not what love looks like. You’re keeping it discreet? Maybe you are, maybe your mistress doesn’t love you and it’s all fun and games for her- but maybe it’s not too. You don’t want to hurt your kids? What- you think they don’t know? What you’ve described is so heavily dysfunctional that there’s no chance they’re not picking it up on some level and they’ll know as adults that they were living in a boiling lobster pot of rage and resentment and pain even if they never know the specifics.
God, forget everyone else for a second even @Lockdowntown, think of yourself: this is SO sad. You deserve better than this. You say you’ve spent more than half your adult life on this.... no ones going to give you a medal for that. Leave now, don’t waste a day. Your kids will still be there and you’ll still be their parent and you get to decide how that works. And you’ll be happy again. Properly, legitimately happy. Maybe not immediately, but one day in the not too distant future.
Please please please get some help. Therapy turned my life around and it could turn yours around too. You say you’ve accepted that you live in the world as it is and not the world as it should be, but that’s nihilistic, Sixth Form poetry bollocks. You only get one life and you are wasting yours.