Hi guys,

I found this place with a google search as something happened on the weekend that is causing me a lot of mental anguish and I was thinking perhaps sharing and getting some perspective might help me rather than bottling it all in.

I'm 41 and been married for 8 years with two beautiful children aged 4 and 6. At the beginning of the year my wife revealed to me that she has been thinking of leaving me. We went to counselling where I thought we were going to be taking steps to repair the relationship, but it came out pretty quickly that she doesn't want to even try and that separation is what she wants. So for the last couple months I've been in this terrible space of living with my wife, but living separate lives, separate bedrooms, no sex etc.

Obviously this has been extremely distressing for me and I've gone through some very black self loathing periods as well as a lot of resentment towards her. Anyway for the first time in a long time I went to the pub with some parents of the kids in my eldest class. Now I don't know them all that well, but the one mom, Claire and I walk home from school with quite regularily, so we're not friends, but I'm very familiar with her.

Anyway we all proceeded to drink far too much beer and I was actually having a fantastic time. Socialising is not normally an easy, enjoyable thing for me so this was actually a big deal. My wife went home with the kids early and then eventually the rest of the drunk crowd dispersed and so did I with the Claire and her husband and kids. Anyway we're walking home which was fortunately down a very quiet lane when (memory is sketchy cos I was so drunk) it seemed I must have started talking about my wife and I, and it all happened so fast but suddenly I had collapsed to the ground and all I remember is crying and screaming into a pile of leaves about all the pain I was in. Claire must have sent her husband and kids ahead when this happened, but she stayed with me to comfort me which was very kind of her. I heard her telling other people to move on but luckily there weren't too many. I don't know how long that was but she eventually calmed me down and we went on home.

I must have been filthy from lying in the dirt because my wife tried to get me in the bath to clean me and then I became an absolute asshole because I vaguely remember telling her to **** off over and over, I just became overcome with anger.

Anyway I woke up the next day with a horrible hangover and just praying my vague memory of the night before was a bad dream, but sadly for me it wasn't. I went to Claire's house to apologise for having to see me like that and deal with me and she was very kind about it and told me not to worry.

But the fact is it's like of those experiences you just want to blot out but I can't stop thinking about it and every time it comes into my mind there's like that shiver of revulsion and it makes me want to throw up. Claires husband I've only met once before and I don't even know how I will face him knowing he's seen me in that state.

I'm absolutely consumed with humiliation and embarrassment, guys just aren't meant to behave like that. Anyway I don't know if writing this is going to help me deal with it in any way but I thought maybe it can if you guys have any perspective or perhaps you've experienced something similar so I don't feel so alone and pathetic.