All I can offer in the way of advice is what worked for me (left by my husband of 17 years on Valentine's Day...). I understand the anger (which doesn't seem like a strong enough word), and the pain, and the depression, and the sense of having had your life stolen from you while you weren't looking. I entertained the idea of spray-painting a big letter A on each of his jockeys and hanging them on a clothes line in the front yard. I think anger helps get us through the initial stages of life's disasters.
The above story happened to me in 1990. It took a while, but I started to feel like myself again and was eventually able to enjoy things without the pain of having shared it with HIM making enjoyment impossible.
I eventually was able to move on and have been in another happier long term relationship which I NEVER, at the time, thought I'd ever allow myself to be open to again.
Two techniques helped me get through...talking about the initial shock and hurt until I started to feel "desensitized". And reading a book called "The Dance of Anger"...it's not the most literary of works, but it's message was one that helped me to look at my situation differently and realize what was and wasn't in my power or control.
People can't help who they fall in love with; and sometime they fall out of love, too. I'm not excusing how he may have handled things...just saying that maybe someday he will be someone who did a piss poor job of handling an unfortunate situation (keep in mind, I know no details here) and came across as a monster, less out of intent and more out of not having the skills to handle a break up more honestly. I finally (okay, after a bunch of years) got to that place with my ex-husband. I can remember the good times and realize that for most of our time together, he WAS the person I thought he was. We still get together at times (basically child-related occasions), and it's not even awkward anymore.
But none of that helps now. I just wish you comfort and warmth and hugs ... and a doctor who understands how to help you through to the point where it doesn't hurt quite so much.
Sueleen Gay: "Here you go, Bitch, now go make some fukcing lemonade." 10/28/10