Don't Worry Darling

I just watched "Don't Worry Darling" and I'm a little freaked out because that's what the Addict did to me. He let me believe I was living in a happy life while he was doing the life that he wanted to do. He made me feel crazy, lied to my face about things I saw and felt that were real. Took my automony through those lies so that I could not choose. Pathetically keeping me where he wanted me in a fake world because in the real world he felt terrified and unseen. So fucking unnerving.

And just like at the end of the movie, I feel the pull of the happy life I thought I was leading. And like Florence Pugh, I have to make a choice. And I have to choose myself.

Why can't I just do the thing that makes sense?

After our post-disclosure couples session, in which the Addict told me that he still wanted time--a year--to work on the new person he feels he is becoming (have heard that before), we talked and I told him that I don't need to be divorced right away. I said that my main concern is that he poses a financial threat because he's been, until recently, willing to drink and drive. Our house is a big part of our retirement plan and I don't want to lose it if he hurts or kills someone while drunk driving. I told him that if he can add a breathalyzer to his car that will keep it from starting so he can't drive drunk, then I'd feel less urgency to divorce. After all, he's already out of the house and I am free to date whomever I want, which I've started to do. I'm free to live my life on my terms. I don't hate him. So divorce doesn't feel urgent to me, except for the financial aspect.

WHY CAN'T I JUST SAY IT? Why can't I just do the only logical thing on the table and GET DIVORCED??

I think I came across the answer today, and it's something that I've thought before, but maybe now is the time I'm ready to face it.

In Maybe You Should Talk To Someone, Lori Gottlieb writes, "If I live in the present, I'll have to accept the loss of my future."

Before Round 2, I had been so looking forward to the rest of my life with the Addict. As far as I knew, the horrific, hurtful things we had dealt with as the result of his sex addiction were 14 years behind me. What stretched out in front of me was a beautiful growing-old with someone I loved deeply. Family holidays, travel, grandchildren, rocking chairs.

If I live in the present, I have to accept the loss of that future I was so looking forward to, so invested in, so happy with.

If I live in the present, the future becomes a big unknown. Unknowns are scary. I'm 58. It's not like I have decades ahead of me to start over. I feel like it's now or never to get things right. Maybe I'll never find someone I want to be with as much as I wanted to be with the Addict--someone funny, creative, caring, brilliant, musical, affectionate, gentle and loving. Maybe I won't find anybody else who will love me enough to make me their Person.

If I live in the present, I'll have to accept the loss of my future. I am stopped by grief and fear.

Second Disclosure

We went through the disclosure process again. But this time we each had our own therapist there instead of just our couples therapist. I prefer this, because it feels better to have someone that's on my "team" rather than someone who is on the team of coupleship and repair. (Although, a couples therapist shouldn't be on any team--it's really for you to choose as you work with them.) Last time around, we started repair way too fast. That was my decision because I didn't know better.

Anyway, I sat through the litany of the Addict's confessions feeling surprisingly detached, but still present. I didn't cry. At the end, I didn't feel much of anything. But a lot of feelings came later. There have been so many lies, and that was something I wasn't really cognizant of until disclosure. There was no new Awful Thing. It was really the vastness of the lying that took my breath away. And the ease and regularity with which he did it.

As I tried to get my thoughts together for our first couples session after disclosure, this is what came out as I wrote.

Statement to the Addict

Hearing the truth of what you’ve done and the secrets and lies that have been going on since the inception of our relationship has helped me understand that the bottom line is that you want to do what you want to do, but you don’t want any consequences from your choices, so you are willing to lie to me, no matter how that affects me. I know this, because you’ve seen how it affects me, you’ve watched me go through deep pain and sadness, and yet you continued to do it. You have repeatedly risked the lives, health and well-being of our family to do what you wanted to do—spend retirement savings, drink and drive, drink and drive with our son in the car, betray me by having sexual contact outside our marriage. You hid the truth of it because you did not want the consequences of your choices and actions.

Hearing that your definition of sexual sobriety is that you can go online and masturbate to another woman’s body once a week for 15 minutes sounds to me like telling an alcoholic that he can have a glass of wine once a week as long as he drinks it in 15 minutes. Looking at images of women online to get you aroused is always the first step toward you having sex with prostitutes. That is not a willingness to surrender to your program and to having a secure, loving relationship with your wife, in which you turn toward me—and work things out with me—instead of outside the marriage into fantasy and prostitutes. It’s the same pattern of doing what you want to do, and following your own thinking—which has normalized pornography and prostitution. This makes it clear to me that the sexual stimulation you feel entitled to is more important to you than your relationship with me. It’s clear not by what you say, because I hear you say how much you love me, but what you do and all the things you’ve done over the 34 years that we’ve been together until I finally caught you again. You were always free to choose differently, but you didn’t want to. Every hand job, every blow job, every pussy you ate, every prostitute you fucked—every betrayal was a choice you made. You chose yourself over us, and you’ve done it consistently for more than three decades.

I appreciate that you have given me the truth, because now I’m free to choose based on who you really are, what you really want and what I want. And I want something different from who you have shown yourself to be. 

You have abused my trust, you have gaslit me, manipulated me, lied to me and betrayed me. Then you promised you would never do that again if only we could work to recover. And I did that. My reality was blown apart and my heart was shattered, but I gave my all. I wasn’t perfect, but I was 100% in, which made it easy for you to lie to me again, because I believed all the promises you made. And all the lies you told - I believed them too, because I believed in you. Despite the agony of betrayal, I tried to give you a tabula rasa—a clear space for you to be a new person without carrying the burden of the things you’d done in the past—because I believed you had the willingness and capacity to change, I believed you had integrity, I believed I was important to you. I believed those things because you led me to believe them by lying to me. You took advantage of my willingness to try to repair our relationship to do what you wanted to do and have what you thought you were entitled to. In 2007, I begged you—and over the years after that I begged you every time I caught you lying to me about drinking—not to lie to me again because of how deeply painful the lying was. And you promised you would never do that again, never hurt me that deeply again. That was another lie so you could continue to do what you wanted to do and get what you were entitled to without the consequences you didn’t want. You started lying to me again just weeks after I discovered your betrayal the first time, returning to secretly masturbating to porn without the intention of ever giving it up—I’m sure you felt entitled to it—and you never stopped.

This second time around, when you started getting massages and handjobs again, with all the benefit of Landmark and therapy and Buddhism and 12-step, you knew better. You knew what sex addiction was and where the secrets and lies would take you. You had all the information and access to all the tools and support, but you stuck with your own rationalizations and justifications. Which let you keep doing what you wanted to do to get what you felt entitled to without any consequences. And, once again, you took away my ability to choose for myself whether or not I wanted to be married to someone who was doing the things you were doing.

You are not willing to commit to the things I asked of you so that I could possibly feel safe. You’ve told me you’re not willing to put in weekly or daily practices to check in with a therapist and others on your sexual abstinence, triggers and behaviors, and to be honest in that process, hiding nothing, for the rest of your life. You’ve told me you’re not willing to go to counseling consistently at least every two weeks and to explore trauma-specific modalities in order to understand and resolve the childhood traumas and beliefs that led to these acting out behaviors. You are only willing to pursue insights into these things. But you’ve already had so many insights—from Landmark to therapy to Buddhism to 12-step—and yet here we are, with you secretly squirreling away cash in dribs and drabs, like a child saving his allowance, so you can have threesomes with prostitutes. If you want something different, you have to do something different. But you would rather do what you want and get what you feel entitled to.

Despite the astonishing lack of integrity, care and empathy you’ve demonstrated since the very beginning of our relationship (not always, but when it suited you), you’re not willing to do what I need to feel safe. You continue to want to do what you want to do, but you want me to consider staying in our marriage. I don’t want to be married to you if you have to masturbate to other women, even when you know where it has always led. I don’t want to be married to someone whose feeling of entitlement to sexual stimulation is more important to him than my need to feel safe, loved, secure and cherished. 

I have not been a perfect, blameless partner. But I have always given you everything I had to give. I have never lied to you. I have loved you so much, admired you so much, supported you, believed in you, wanted nobody and nothing more than you. And it was never enough. I was never enough. I know that, not by what you say, because you always know what to say, but by what you’ve done. You have hurt me so deeply that I cannot find the words to express the depths of sadness and grief I feel. The emotional abuse you’ve committed is as real and painful and damaging as any physical abuse. A wound to the heart is as real as a black eye. And that’s what you’ve done with every lie. My heart and my spirit are battered and exhausted. 

There’s a saying: fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me. I have lost count of how many times I’ve been fooled. Shame on me. But I think I’ve finally accepted, as much as I resisted it, that I can’t believe what you say. Lying to me is your way of being in the world. You do it so easily, you’re so good at it and so willing to do it to have what you feel entitled to. I don’t believe you will never lie to me again. I don’t trust you. Without trust, a marriage is nothing.

I have been resisting this. I have been living in wishes and fantasy and hopes. I want to wake up and realize this has all been a terrible dream. I want that so badly, sometimes I think it might really happen. I want to wave a magic wand and do it all over so I could do everything right and you could be satisfied with loving me. Being apart from you feels so wrong. I miss feeling your love—because I know that was there, too. But I will never be enough for you. Which means I cannot trust you to love and care for me above the things you feel you need for yourself. And I would never be able to believe you anyway. I believed so much last time and you used my trust and love like a weapon against me—allowing me to believe while you continued to lie and betray my heart. I don’t know if you can imagine what that has done to me. Picture a dog that’s been beaten, crawled under a house to survive, and then gotten lured out with the promise of love and safety only to be beaten to a bloody pulp again. That is how hopeless and heartbroken I feel.

This is not an ultimatum. I already know what you would choose because you’ve already made that choice over and over again with every betrayal, only pretending, when you get caught, to commit to me. I’m not asking you to change. But I need to find someone who can choose me, choose our relationship, instead of himself, without resentment, and without feeling that he is giving up something he’s entitled to.

I wish our story could have a different ending. I always wanted to grow old with you. In my imagination, we are two little old people walking slowly down the beach holding hands sharing a quiet love as deep as the ocean and vast as the sky.

I have to read this regularly, so I don't forget.

The sad truth

I haven't posted for months because I have been too confused to have anything to say. I'm sure many peope would judge or pity me for not knowing exactly what to do: GET OUT. It's much simpler when it's just conceptual. I have to throw so much away. I've been with the Addict since 1988. 34 years. Most of my adult life. I've had a child, bought a house, gone through parenting, a lifetime of wonderful experiences and memories, discovery in 2007 and repair process, the most formative things and the most wonderful things. I thought I had a one-in-a-million love. It's a lot to let go of. I'm not going to answer to anyone for my process. It's mine. As yours is yours. What I want to talk about is what I'm feeling now, 9 months after I discovered, again, that the Addict was betraying me with prostitutes. Right now, I'm feeling depressed. I feel like I'm being taught, AGAIN, that I am the only thing in this world I can count on. Really not true, as I have great friends that love me and support me. But I have no safe harbor where I can relax and not be the person providing all the structure and holding everything together. It's not even just the Addict. It's my dad, my mom, the discovery in 2007, the discovery in January 2022. Over and over, I keep having to learn that nobody is really there for me. I'm alone, and I'm the only thing I can count on. It is lonely and heartbreaking. I thought the Addict and I had repaired and that I had that safe harbor with him. But, not the case. Another thing I'm feeling: I'm not enough. There are logical reasons for why the Addict did what he did that have nothing to do with me and only to do with his fucked-up-ness. But experientially, I am left with the experience that whatever I could bring to our relationship was insufficient, deficient, not enough to fill the emptiness inside the Addict. It's not my job to fill his void, but I didn't know until recently that this void was there. I was just mystified by how different his experience of our relationship was from mine. But that void, the one I didn't know about, explains it. I was never going to be enough because no person can fill that spiritual void. That's his journey. Intellectually, I understand. Experientially, I'm left with the feeling that everything I brought, everything I gave, who I am--it was not enough. So a lot of pain and grief in this moment. Do I regret my decision in 2007 to see if our relationship was repairable? No. I was able to give my son a happy childhood. Son and I were blissfully unaware of the Addict's continued secret life. We were happy. But now, it's a lot of heartbreak. What I would say now: Do not hope for a good outcome in a relationship with a sex addict who has lied to you. My experience is that a person like this is too broken and fixing will take a lifetime of willingness and work, and at best they will be holding the beast at bay. I don't know yet what I'm going to do, but I'm leaning toward letting my relationship of 34 years--my life--go. I can't trust him to be a safe harbor for me. I can't be 100% real with him because he's not 100% real with me. Even after 34 years. There is so much going on in his head that I'm not part of. It's exhausting to think about contending with that for the rest of my life. It fucking breaks my heart to let go, but I don't see anything else that makes sense. I'll be fine. I'm strong. I'm independent. I was just hoping that there was more to life than being strong and independent and, in the most intimate ways, alone.

Permission to make mistakes

Today I did EMDR and out of it I got that I can create space for myself to be less-than-perfectly-good, and I can forgive myself for that which feels unforgivable. I feel as though I'm really coming to a place where I will be okay alone. I don't want to be alone, but knowing that I can and will be okay alone will give me the opportunity to choose from a healthy place. And maybe when I do this I can let myself be loved even when I fail so that I don't have to be in denial in my relationship when I've hurt my partner or have inadvertently not been a good partner.I can accept that I could fail at those things and still be loved and I don't have to be afraid of admitting and taking responsibility for those things when I do them. I can ask for forgiveness instead of staying in being unforgivable, Fail and improve. And still be loved. And I can know that even if someone doesn't love me it doesn't mean I'm unloveable. And more love can come along.

Doing my own work

The Addict has requested that I "open a vein" and do my own personal work. So I'm trying to do that. It certainly can't hurt, and who doesn't have things to work on? Today in therapy we talked about my defensiveness. I am defensive. In my mind, I'm not defensive, I'm correcting a misperception or an error or a lack of nuance. But I'm defending myself, which means...I'm defensive. And when I'm defending myself, I'm not listening to my partner. And that's the key. Taking good care of your person, instead of getting to who is right or wrong in a heated moment. Not at the expense of self, but as a taking care of someone in a moment when they need to be heard. I'm afraid of being misunderstood. I'm afraid that I will be misunderstood and, as a result, not loved. I want to hear that I do nothing wrong or hurtful and that I'm loved. But, in fact I do make mistakes or have bad judgement or am selfish or say hurtful things. And what I have to get to is that I can be loved in spite of all that. I can be human, imperfect, and still be worthy of love and devotion. I'm always afraid something better will come along and that I'll no longer be deemed worthy of the love I was getting or the attraction someone was feeling for me or the place I held in someone's heart. (Try having that fear and then having your husband have sex with a bunch of prostitutes who are 20 - 30 years younger than you! It's extremely painful.) I'm defensive because I'm afraid. And it would be great if my partner could take that into consideration. But if he can't, it will be upon me to recognize that in myself in the heat of the moment and to take a deep breath and reflect, take responsibility and repair--if I want to take care of my person and create a secure functioning relationship. AND my partner will need to do that with me when he is afraid if we're to have a secure functioning relationship. But when one of the other of us can't in a momeent, for whatever reason, the other needs to take on the extra responsibility - the responsibility of taking care of the other in a difficult moment and LISTENING. And it's actually a stronger position because whether or not I stop defending myself and choose to reflect, repair and take responsibilty is within my control; whereas getting my partner to remember that I'm afraid of criticism because I think flaws and anger make me unworthy of love is NOT in my control.

This communication shit is hard

I had dinner with the Addict tonight. Our couples therapist recommended that we try to make time to spend with each other so that we can practice the things we're learning in therapy. We are not great at communicating with each other, apparently. We learned something we call ABC: Assume no harm and Be Curious. In other words, when he says something to me that hurts or upsets me, I need to first assume no harm, and then be curious, i.e, ask questions. For example, "It sounds like you're saying X. Is that what you meant to communicate? Tell me more"

My individual therapist has also taught me the 3 Rs: Reflect back what you have heard and keep asking for more until the person has said everything they need to say; take Responsibility for your part and validate the person's experience (not necessarily validating what they say, but rather validating what they experienced whether or not it feels true or right to me); Repair with the appropriate apology for my part in something.

I tried that tonight. At my request, we shared our lists of resentments a couple weeks ago. The Addict really didn't want to do this exercise, and really struggled with it. He broke down crying in our session because he was so scared of sharing - I think he thought I would get angry and tell him to fuck off for good. But we got through it, and I wasn't angry at his list, as he feared. I did feel defensive about some things that felt inaccurate, but I kept myself from defending myself because the point was for each of us to be able to express our resentments, not to discuss or correct. At the end of the session, we agreed that we'd turn our lists into requests, because I really wanted to have a copy of his list so I could start to tease out my part and the things I need to work on. 

This is what he gave to me:

I love you. 

Nothing I say here is intended to excuse or explain my behavior. Nothing I say here is intended to absolve me of the work I have to do.

·      I request that when you ask for difficult exchanges you are prepared to have them in a balanced adult way.

·      I request that when we talk about difficult issues or when I bring up a problem you try to listen for your part in the issue and don’t try to move the subject around to avoid anything that you don’t want to look at or anything that seems unflattering.

·      I request that you step back and do your own personal work. Really look into why you don’t seem to want to believe you ever get angry for example.

·      I request that you don’t think of me as the bucket into which everything bad about our relationship gets thrown. Consider that where there are communication issues, you might have some responsibility and if it doesn’t occur to you immediately, get some help and dig deeper. Consider that the reason it is a mystery to you is that you are hiding something from yourself that you don’t want to face.

·      I request that when you either think I am completely wrong or you are completely wrong you take a breath and set aside both of those options and, with help, look deeper to distinguish your part.

·      I don’t think you’re a bad person but I don’t think you’re perfect. I think you are, like me, a work in progress and I think, like me, you need to be willing to do the work to make progress. I believe you are willing to do that work. I believe I am willing to do that work as well.

·      I want to love you and support you as you do that work.

·      I want you to love me and support me as I do that work.

·      I want us to love and support each other as we work together.

----------------------------------------

·       I resent that it seems to me that there are exchanges which you’re asking for but you don't seem have the capacity to have them in a balanced adult way.

·       To me if feels like theres a giant shell game going on. It feels wily, unsolid and I feel like it's an inadvertent effort to avoid taking any part in the dynamic if it reflects on you unflatteringly.

·       I am bitter that you don't step back and do your own personal work. You don't open a vein to do any inquiry about yourself.

·       I resent being the bucket into which every problem is thrown.

·       In my experience you have blinders on and you won't consider that you have any lack or unflattering participation.

·       There are more double binds than I can count and as I say this I'm aware that I am stepping into another one which I’m afraid will result in complete deflection or an utter collapse into which you catastrophize.

·       I'm trying to find my own voice here and I want to give it to you but I distrust your ability to hear it.

·       I'm willing to own my participation in these problems but I reject that I am only person responsible. You seem to be unable to consider your responsibility in a sustained way.

·       I love you but when it comes to who you believe you are and how you show up, my perception is fundamentally different from yours. I don't think you're a bad person. I think you're a work in progress. But I'm afraid you're not truly willing to to do the work that will lead to progress.

·       I am afraid that after I say these things you will want to give up but this is a sincere effort to get in the game with you.

·       We both collude to keep you a saint and I accumulate all the bad. I don't think we should play that game anymore.

·       I want to hold you and support you and love you as we're both deconstructing.

What I get out of this, at a high level: I deflect, catastrophize and dismiss him.

I wanted to talk through his list of resentments (from the past) to get a better handle on what I need to work on. Our experiences are so different. It's stunning at times. So, tonight I asked if we could do that, and he said yes. But it quickly became difficult. He said he didn't feel prepared to answer my questions, didn't feel qualified to answer. He said that he didn't want to dredge up the past to provide examples of the things he resents me for. It's hard to talk with him because he gets annoyed or upset quickly. I said I understood that he wanted to wait and maybe do this another time and that this was okay with me. And I tried to explain that this was my way of doing what he asked for - figuring out how to do my own work and what to look at. It continued to be difficult, with him seeming defensive. I kept trying to listen and validate and apologize for my part of things as he talked. But it felt like I kept saying things in the wrong way. And ultimately it did feel bad to hear him talking about what I need to work on and for me to take responsibility. He said that for 34 years, 100% of the time, when he had a problem he was never heard. It was hard to not defend myself. I'm far from perfect, but I'm also far from 100% insensitive to his problems. We did not talk at all about his accountability. And it wasn't supposed to be about that. And he prefaced our discussion with a reiteration that his list of resentments wasn't supposed to be an excuse or an explanation for his behavior. But it was hard for me to hold space for him and listen and take responsibility when I wasn't getting that back. 

He said he loves me "like crazy." But I don't feel loved. It's hard to feel loved after betrayal. I feel abandoned, unseen, overlooked, despised, resented, forgotten. 

He says he's changing, but he doesn't seem different enough yet. He expressed again a wish for my patience. I feel like I owe it to the 34 years we've been together to give him a year to work. I guess maybe it would be better to talk with him about what he is doing and how he thinks he's changing. 

He said that he thought that, no matter what, each of us would come out of this better and stronger. I wanted to say that I got stronger after the first betrayal discovery, going through annihilation, grief, shattered heart and life. I am strong. Maybe I'll get better. He sees a lot of room for improvement in me. I have to have some patience so we can get to the part where I see what's better in him. He said that he has a huge ego that's as fragile as a bubble--and he's right.

I am going to live my best life

That's my assignment. To live my best life now, even in the midst of separation and betrayal. I'm going to use this period while the Addict is working on himself to build a rich, interesting, connected and satisfying life for myself. Here are the things I'm going to pursue:

• Connect with more friends more often
• Travel
• Get better at photography
• Theater and improv
• Learn Spanish
• Learn piano (Richard)
• Do more singing
• Biking, jogging, swimming and triathlons
• Home and yard improvement

That is my mission. Now I have to get others in on this!

Feelings

In couples therapy, the Addict told me that the safest place for him to be in our marriage was low status. I was so shocked by this, because this is not what I ever wanted. I've always felt that he gave me too much power and that this was a big part of why we had trouble communicating.

I feel sad and scared and hopeless. Sad in my heart and eyes, scared in my chest, hopeless in my chest. I'm afraid that I'm so resented and so defined as so many awful things that I will never be seen as what I want to be - pure love and support. That's what I wish I could have been. I don't know what is wrong with me that I can't see. Am I just obliviously selfish and self-righteous? I don't know. I don't think so, but this is what I'm being told. And the resentment I feel coming toward me hurts and scares me. I'm afraid I'm not loved, or not loved completely, not loved in a way where I'll be safe. 

Missing

Even though the Addict has betrayed me more deeply than anybody else in my life--twice--without his presence I feel like a plant that's not getting enough sun. 

Even though I don't know how to decide if I can be in a relationship with someone who has lied so profoundly, for so many years about something so fundamental to our relationship, I miss him.

Life is so short. Am I wasting the limited number of days I have on this planet separating myself from someone I love who loves me? 

Or am I an abused woman who can't see a way to leave her abuser?

I really don't know.

The ups and downs of limbo

The Addict and I have continued with couples therapy, and I'm feeling more connected or less guarded. Not sure if that's a good thing, given that he's so early in recovery. But we do want to have some kind of relationship since we share a son.

I've been feeling more "normal" a lot of days. But a few nights ago I had too much to drink and called the Addict to share some of the work I'd been doing from a book called "Hold Me Tight." I ended up getting back to a place of feeling all the abandonment and disregard and lack of care, and weeping deeply as we talked. Those feelings are still there and sometimes drinking is a way to release them, I think. Not my recommended practice, but reminds me that even though I feel "normal" a lot of days, there is a lot to be dealt with still.

Woke up today feeling heavy and sad, which I haven't done for a couple weeks now. I don't know whether I'm sad because I miss him, or because I'm getting used to my life without him. I'm afraid to let go.

My friend shared this quote with me:

I don't know if this is the path I want to take, but it's better than all or nothing, which is where my cognitive distortions take me.

Things I want to remember

Time has always healed even your deepest pain. Breathe deeply, lean into what is hard, look for the growth opportunity, ask for what you need and take care of yourself every day. 

Accept the things you cannot change and have the courage and get the support you need to keep strong boundaries and change the things you can. 

This too, shall pass.

Still hurting

Woke up crying this morning. I miss the Addict so much. I wish I could lie in bed with him and he could hold me in his arms and comfort me in my sadness. I'm so lonely for his love. I just want to feel his arms around me again. And I want to go back to when maybe we had what I thought we had and start there and never get to the terrible day when he chose to betray me again.

Nobody's valenetine

I was dreading today - the first Valentine's Day in 34 years when I would be nobody's valentine. I was dreading that this silly, greeting-card holiday would pass without the Addict thinking about us and what we had been to each other. 

I told my therapy group about this anxiety. My therapist asked if I could ask the Addict for what I needed. But that seemed too scary - like I was maybe suggesting or implying that I wanted something I'm not sure I want. So, I was going to be content with spending the evening in having dinner with Mom and a close girlfriend.

But, at 9:18am, the Addict texted. 

Setting aside, for just a moment, all of our difficulties. I want to tell you that I think you are a wonderful person. You are kind and hilarious and beautiful and talented and smart and loving. You’re a wonderful mother and a fantastic friend. You have a smile that lights up the world and an amazing voice. I love you and I hope you have a wonderful day.

I was so thankful and relieved to know that I was still in his heart. Because he is still in mine. Even with the things he's done, he's still in my heart. Even though I don't see a clear path to repair our relationship, he's still in my heart. Because I believe him when he says things like he did in that text. There was love. There is love. That's what is so confusing. That's what keeps me from turning my back on him despite the fact that he had such flagrant disregard for my core boundaries. 

I'm like an abused woman who can't quit her man. Or maybe I AM an abused woman who can't quit her man.

This shit fucks with me.

Mornings are hard because I wake up and remember again that my life has changed

This morning I am really struggling with some thing. I’m really struggling with how you did this twice. How we went through all we went through, and yet you made the choice to do what you did. I want to work on this in therapy because I need an answer as to why you made the choices you made. I don’t believe it is an unanswerable question. Because it really feels terrible that we went through everything we went through, and you saw me go through everything I went through, and yet you made the choice to do what you did. You didn’t just wake up having sex with somebody. You made decisions and choices along the way to take actions, to lie to me, to hide things. Those were all conscious choices and I want to know what you were thinking that led you to make these choices - what you were telling yourself in your head.

You might not know now, but I believe it is something that you can figure out. Without an answer there is no way for me to feel safe or happy with you.

The disregard for me is, I think, at the heart of why this feels particularly terrible. How could you have such disregard for me as you made these decisions?  It’s not like you did not know how I would feel about you doing these things. You knew and you did them anyway. That makes me feel insignificant. 

Maybe it was easier to do the second time because you had already done it to me the first time and I had forgiven you. It is said that you teach people the way to treat you. Maybe I taught you that you could do this to me.

After all of these years I want to be seen. I want to feel like I matter. It is hard to feel like we’ve spent so many years together and yet when it comes down to it I don’t matter.

Limbo

It looks like disclosure might not happen for 2 - 3 months now. The Addict's therapist thinks it will take that long to get it right.  So we stay in this weird limbo. What are we doing? Are we rebuilding? Are we working toward divorce? I don't think either of us knows. 

I've realized that I can't go through this round of couples therapy without working through the fact that the Addict's experience of me and our relationship happened through a filter that was him being a liar and a betrayer and having all the self-loathing, guilt and other feelings associated with that. So he saw me through that fog. I think he projects a lot of things on to me. For example, during Round 1, he described me as "pissed off, frustrated, unhappy and distracted." But that was HIM during that time in our lives. I had the usual grouses and frustrations, I think, but I felt generally happy and contented. But he saw me as pissed off, frustrated, unhappy and distracted. I asked him if he felt the same way this time, and he said yes. This complaint or description of me has persisted for 15 years, through 3 1/2 years of therapy and 12-step and Landmark and Buddhism. I have grown and changed, but his experience of me has stayed the same. Maybe it's me, but I don't think so. At least, not entirely. He was a lying, betraying alcoholic for the past 9 years, so I don't know if he's the best judge of me.

He has other persistent complaints: "When I'm mad, it's my problem. When you're mad, something is wrong with the world and it's usually me." "You can't handle the truth." "I can't express my anger." "I'm afraid of your anger." 

He's also terrified of his mother's anger. And he always felt that his father was critical no matter how well he did. I think some of the complaints about me are unresolved childhood issues. Maybe some of it is there in me, but I think some of it he sees because that's what he's looking for in people. 

I don't know how nothing has changed. I know I certainly have. I'm not perfect, but I am aware of my absolutist approach to the world and work to catch myself and apologize. I work hard to be responsive - I come to dinner when he says it's ready; I don't work weekends and evenings; I work to be a better listener, and to recognize when I'm being controlling or too black-and-white in my thinking. I am AWARE of my shortcomings and work to address them. So I can't imagine that nothing has changed. So some of it must be in his perception - his "listening" of me. And that was shaped when he was a lying, betraying active alcoholic. So how could he believe I loved him? How could he believe I wasn't critical? How could he believe that I was making space for him? AND - if things were so awful, why didn't he SAY SOMETHING? He says that he tried, which I don't doubt, but was unsuccessful and gave up. But that's lame. That's just absolving himself of responsibility and retreating into old patterns and making me the difficult one. He should have had a boundary and held to it and pressured me to confront what was not working in our relationship instead of giving up and thinking to himself, "She can't handle it so I will." And I think I'm not the one who couldn't handle it. I don't know who is - but it's someone from his childhood. Not me. He may not like how I respond, but I can handle shit. I dealt with the annihilation of my life 15 years ago and worked through that. I can handle shit.

When he is lying and betraying and keeping big secrets, there is no real intimacy. There is no real connectedness. Of course he feels disconnected from me. Of course he feels criticized and less than. Of course I make him feel awful. Of course he feels pissed off, frustrated, unhappy and distracted.

We have a lot to work out and work through if there's any hope for repair. And a lot of it is him facing who he has been and the impact of that. He needs to think about and acknowledge what his lying, betraying and holding secrets did to his love for me. That has to happen FIRST, before we can think about rebuilding. 

I'm reading "Too Good to Leave, Too Bad to Stay" and hoping it will bring me some clarity about what I want.

My new blanket came today. It's been chilly and, even with a wool blanket, sleeping alone has been cold. The Addict was a warm person, so I was never cold in beed when he was here. I'll be warmer. But I'll still be alone.

My feelings are all over the place

I wish we didn’t have this huge mess in our lives so that we could be together and care for each other. That was what I wanted. To be with you and care for you and share life with you. Every day I feel an emptiness where you would have been. I am missing all the moments we should be sharing.

Me too.

The difference is that you caused it and I am the person it happened to. We are both sad, but you were the one with the choices. You took away my ability to choose the moment you started lying. 

Yes.

You gave away your life. I had mine taken. Twice.

Triggered by TV

Watched the tv show Pam & Tommy last night, not realizing the potential for triggering unwelcome thoughts. Fifteen years ago I struggled with my self-esteem as I had to contend with the Addict fucking women 20 years younger than me and read his descriptions of their beauty and their bodies on the prostitute review site he frequented. I was not them. I was not perfect and beautiful, and that has always been a fear of mine - not being physically adequate.

Now, fifteen years later, the women he's fucked are 30+ years younger than me. I was joking with a friend that my dating profile would be "large but sagging breasts, melted-candle-wax figure, smart, funny, fun and creative, fuck you if you don't have the courage."

I could not help myself, and texted the Addict this morning.

It hurts me so much to know that you have of marveled at the physical perfection of other women you're about to fuck. It's one think to look at a picture or even a video, but to be touching her breasts and her flat stomach, putting your lips on hers, to be gazing at her beautiful face and looking into her eyes as you enter her with your penis - that is what makes me sick to my stomach with dread and feelings of being unable to be enough. I can never be that perfect fuck that you've not only fantasized about, but have had SO MANY TIMES. And in these moments, you would have left me so completely. I never left you for other people like that in 34 years. And clearly it was important to you to have this because you risked everything to get it. You have the capacity to leave me behind. To be so intimate and enthralled with another. I gave that only to you. And it meant something to me.

And after having all of that, how can you ever go back? So far it hasn’t been possible. You’ve never been able to go back to just one imperfect woman who loves you. That was not enough. Do you really believe you are capable of that? I am serious. If you know that the answer to that question is no, or if you doubt that the answer to that question is yes, I want to know. It would save us all a lot of agony.

My experience is absolutely nothing like what you attributing to me because of this movie. I am absolutely positive I can live without ever having sex with anyone else. 

How are you absolutely positive when you have never done that before? What is different since the first time we went through all this? Weren’t you absolutely positive before, last time?

The main thing that’s different is that I’m doing this for me, not for anyone or anything else. 

What were you doing it for last time?

You.

Consider that you were doing it for you last time so that you could keep what you wanted. And also remember that when you told me you had gone to the parking lot of the massage parlor with money in your pocket but that you didn’t go through with it, I said, "That doesn’t make any sense at all. What was it that kept you from going through with it."  And you said, “You called.” As if somehow I was important. So I don’t really buy that I was the reason that you did it last time. For at least the last 9 years, what you wanted was always more important than me. At least judging by your actions.

Another morning alone

I woke with a heavy heart. Still can't believe that waking up alone without the love of my life beside me is my life now. I am 57. Still can't believe that this is what my life is after 34 years of building a life and a relationship with someone - at least, I thought I was. It's so far from what I had envisioned, and there's nothing I can do about it but accept what is so. I never had a chance to fight a problem that was kept hidden from me, never had a chance to take any action to save us.

It's been 28 days since the Addict moved out.

Self care

I bought myself a new bicycle yesterday and went for a test ride today along the beach. It was really wonderful. It was a good day.

All good intentions

This is an email the Addict sent to me on June 5, 2007, four days after the first time I discovered he had been having sex with prostitutes for most of our marriage:

If you give me a second chance you will not regret it. I promise you. All I want to do is to hold you and comfort you and make you feel safe again. Please let me do that. 

I know you don't want to let me off the hook but believe me, I am not off the hook. I know how awful my behavior has been. I am going to do everything in my power to change my life and get the support to make that change so that I can ensure that I will never go down that path again. 

It seems like intellectually you don't want to punish me but you don't deserve to punish yourself either. You know that I have never, ever lied to you about how much I love you. You don't have to forgive me to let me love you and to, maybe, let yourself love me.

I will be, for you, the man you think I am, forever.

And this is the email he intended to send to me on Dec 28, 2022, after I found evidence that he was seeing prostitutes again, although we talked by phone before he sent it and he essentially said the same thing to me on the phone. (And he had been having sex with prostitutes again for about 9 years at this point.)

I have been in a shame spiral for the past month because I have been ashamed for lying to you about drinking and ashamed for thinking of acting out sexually on occasion so I have not been vigorous in my denials of your assumptions. I understand that because I lied to your face about drinking and deceived you in the past about my sexual acting out you don’t believe anything that comes out of my mouth.

 

But I did not take the actions you assume I have.

 

But it doesn’t matter what I say. You have decided that everything I have ever said has been a lie. It is impossible to prove a negative AND, more importantly, I HAVE come very CLOSE to acting out sexually and I have taken out money with the consideration of doing it.

 

But I have not.

 

But why should you give me the benefit of the doubt? No reason I can think of.

 

I am looking for a place to live. Do you want to cut all ties as much as possible or can I use this back space (our backyard office/gym space) for work and working out?

So many lies. Placing responsibility on me for not being able to give him the benefit of the doubt. This is the sick mind of the addict.

On the day he wrote that, the Addict was far away from any kind of SA recovery practice and was also just an occasional drop-in to AA meetings. I think daily practice would have made all the difference, perhaps coupled with regular therapy, both individual and couples. But we were not diligent about these things, maybe because, when things felt good, it also felt good to put the whole thing behind us and trust that we were in a new, rebuilt relationship where sexual betrayal wasn't possible any more. We had tools, support, behavior circles, and we had years of growing trust.

But without a daily recovery practice, everything we had learned and accomplished was not enough.

And, he did mention to me recently that he worried that he might be one of those people talked about in the Big Book as constitutionally incapable of telling the truth. So maybe nothing would have made a difference.

More of the same awful feelings

The roller coaster continues, from pain and grief to feeling...resigned, I guess. Had EMDR at therapy last night and was able to release a lot of grief and anguish.

I looked at my tracking sheet again, where I have made an account of all the Addict's withdrawals of chunks of cash from our account and seeing that he went to prostitutes 3-4 or more  times a month is just really hard to take. Where was I? Even if he thinks he never gave anything of himself to all those prostitutes he fucked, he had to leave me to fuck them and that is a big part of what hurts. How could he leave me for those moments? How could he be intimate with them in ways that I thought were only for me? Caress them, lick them, smell them, feel their bodies against his, their nipples in his mouth, their mouths on his penis. How could he push his penis into another woman's body and let me disappear? Probably more than 100 times by the looks of it. WHERE WAS I IN HIS HEART???

And I know that right now he is so wrapped up in his own recovery that he cannot begin to grasp the depths of my sadness and pain. And he likely never will. I almost hate him for that. 

I've been reading the first year of this blog from 2007, and so many of the feelings are the same. I feel stronger now to bear them, but the intense pain, sadness and grief I feel now are everything I went through before. Hard to imagine that I'm going through this again. Really makes me feel like a fool.

Late-night stream of consciousness to the Addict

I miss lying beside you at night. It doesn’t feel right. I hate this. Why do things have to be this way? I can’t believe that I am going through this again. This time was supposed to be a time for us now that Yogi had gone away to school. Time to grow closer and focus on each other. I was really looking forward to that. I really miss you. But I am so fucked up by this.I miss lying beside you at night. It doesn’t feel right. I hate this. Why do things have to be this way? I can’t believe that I am going through this again. This time was supposed to be a time for us now that Yogi had gone away to school. Time to grow closer and focus on each other. I was really looking forward to that. I really miss you. But I am so fucked up by this.There is nothing I can do except for be sad. I cannot change any of this. I just wish it would stop hurting. 

So many kinds of sadness

I have told you a lot about the grief I feel regarding the loss I am experiencing. I have not told you as much about the sadness. I am so deeply sad about the lying and betrayal. I do not think I ever lied to you. Because lying creates distance and separation. If you felt distance and separation in our relationship, consider that it may have been your lies to me over and over again that were the source of that. And regarding each and every time you had sex with another person, I have only given myself to you. And all of those parts you gave of yourself when you had sex with them were parts that should have been given to me. Based on our vows. Based on our relationship. Based on love mutual respect and trust. Based on tour word after the last time we went through this. So many moments that should have been shared with me were given instead to other people and that gives me such deep pain. And I can see from the bank records that there have been so many. Even more than last time. Which is just so hard to believe considering everything we have been through. Nobody in my life has hurt me as much as you have. And over such a long sustained period of time.I cannot understand what I ever did to you for you to be OK with treating me like this.

Why this feels so differnt

I just realized that this time feels so different because, for Round One, I think we were in couples therapy working with a skilled sex addiction specialist to REPAIR our relationship within a week after discovery.

This time, we are living apart, in limbo, we've had only one couples session and I don't know if I see a way we can repair. That is why the grief is so intense right now. I was abruptly severed from my primary relationship and now we've been living separately for 23 days - the longest we've ever been apart, I think. It really feels like sudden death. The last time did, too, in other ways. But at least we were together and working toward recovery and rebuilding. This time I am alone.

Swimming in grief

A hard couple of days. I am really grieving the loss of what I had with my husband. I had felt so loved and cared for, even if it was mixed with all his lies. And also grieving the loss of the future we had talked about - being that little old couple walking down the street holding hands.  Why didn't he save us? I had no control, no power. But him? He could have called someone after the first porn slip. He could have called a therapist after the first hand-job massage or even after the first prostitute. He had so many chances to save us and I had none. And he didn't. Why didn't he? Why didn't he save us when he had the chance? I grieve the loss of that chance. And why didn't we stay in therapy, where resentments would not have had the chance to fester? There are so many questions like that. What was the moment where something could have been done differently so that he would not have done the things he's done? I would give anything to go back. But now there's no turning back. What's done is done. All the lying, all the betrayal. 

And why didn't we have cash withdrawal alerts on our accounts? Why didn't we have porn blockers and computer monitoring software. We had none of that. Because I didn't know I had to keep on top of this after all the therapy and work and pain we went through. I never thought he would have sexual contact with anyone else again after all of that. I didn't remember "once an addict, always an addict." Life was good and we were busy working full-time and raising a family and doing all the things. 

I don't want this life I have now. I want the life I thought I had. The life with my loving, smart, funny, creative, talented husband with whom I was going to grow old and play with grandchildren. I'm grieving all the things we will never do together again - hugging, kissing, making love, watching movies, going to the beach, sandcastles, laughing with each other, sharing our passions and dreams, traveling, playing games, our New Year's Day party, hand-made sushi dinner, singing at the piano, Christmas in Maine, family pile on the couch. So many things that made my life rich and wonderful will never happen again. 

I have magical thinking. Like if I just sit in the car and don't come out of the garage, the life I had will be there, outside the doors. If I just don't go out, I can believe that nothing has changed. I sit in the car and cry.

I have so much anguish. My life slipped away without me knowing until it was too late for me to be able to do anything. I lost everything in an instant - that instant when he admitted he was fucking prostitutes again. Sudden like death, and it is hard to come to terms with and I have so much grief.

We started couples therapy last week to prepare for disclosure. Again.

All the lasts

I don't remember our last hug. It must have been that day, because we hugged every day. But if I had known it was going to be the last one, I would have hugged you longer and tighter.  I would have breathed in that moment so I could remember how it felt. And then maybe I could dust it off, later, when the years had worn away the pain, and feel just the love.  Even if you didn't really love me, if you couldn't really love me, I felt loved. And I got to feel what it was like to love freely again.  At least for a while. It was what I wanted. I wanted us. Did I fool myself? Does it matter anymore?

Once again, I can't believe this is my life

Sitting at my desk trying to work, I can't believe this is my life - having to endure the absence of all the things the Addict provided, because he provided so much: love, physical affection, fun, support, intellectual stimulation, quiet companionship, humor, shared interests and activities, and more.  SO MUCH is missing in my life now. I still have good friends, loving family, physical safety and security. I  have activities and pursuits, curtailed as they are by the pandemic. But the love, care and companionship that nourished my soul most profoundly are missing. In their place: a deep, deep pain.

It has been 18 days since the Addict moved out. I have a terrible memory, but I think that is the longest we've been apart since we've been married (24.5 years).  I want so badly to just get a hug from him, to feel again how I felt in his embrace, just for a few minutes. We were always very physically affectionate. The lack of contact is extremely hard to bear. It was sustenance. 

A hard day trying to keep it together for work

Having a lot of sadness today. I think I'm struggling with wanting to connect with the Addict, who has been my primary intimate relationship, not just physically, but emotionally, intellectually, spiritually, maybe psychologically - he was truly a soul mate, for lack of a better term. That primary intimate connection was abruptly severed, almost like a sudden death, and nobody else can fill it for me right now. I don't know anybody who shares my most basic values and comes close to being as consistently interesting, funny, creative, supportive and on my wavelength. He really checked all the boxes for me. (Even though he apparently lacks integrity and honesty, he understands the importance of these things intellectually.)

It's not that I don't know who I am without him, I just feel incredibly sad and lonely missing him. And at the same time, I feel like I have to protect myself from him and hold my boundaries. He has gotten away with too much due to my compassion, willingness to forgive and effort to hold a space for him to grow and change, which has required a LOT on my end. And at some level he knew that he was getting away with it because of my willingness to repair. And maybe I have to face the fact that he is not capable of being the person I want to be in relationship with. After 34 mostly great years, that's really painful to confront. I feel a gaping, empty sadness in my body.

I have a lot of big projects at work, and it has been hard to focus. I feel like I'm falling behind, but it's hard to stay motivated to push myself when I'm feeling so down. I usually  just want the work day to end so I can stop trying.

Insomnia

Can't sleep. Can't stop the thoughts, the questions, the pain in my heart.  I used to fall asleep easily, but now I have trouble. I  can fall asleep on the couch, but when i get into bed, the thoughts, questions and pain come back. Maybe it's because I'm alone in this room I used to share with the Addict. I got a new mattress, but my memories are still here. Memories of us, together, in this room.

So lonely

12:27am

I  am so lonely. The Addict was my most intimate relationship on so many levels - my very best friend. I miss his humor, his intellect,  his advice and thoughts. I miss pressing up against him in bed at night. I miss the relief of hearing him come home, knowing there would be hugs and kisses and snuggles. I miss foot rubs and breakfast and dinner. I miss talking to him and being close to him.  He was my safe harbor in the world. I could handle just about anything, but when I couldn't, he was there. 

How can I miss him when he was also lying to me and fucking prostitutes at the same time that all of this good stuff was going on? I don't know. But I do. I miss the person I thought I was married to. It's the same painful despair I had in 2007. And he told me once that he had become the man that I had wanted back in 2007. Maybe, for a while, he was.

I was thinking today  about his denial when I figured out he was going to the massage parlor. He gave me the same story - "Yes, I took out the money, I went there, but I didn't go through with it." "That doesn't make any sense," I said. "Why would you do all that and then stop at the last moment?" And then he said, "You called." And of course, that was a lie. And that was the night he actually fucked the prostitute at the massage parlor.

I wish this was not my life. It hurts so much right now, and the sweet respite of my love is never going to be able to comfort me through this awful time. My safe harbor is gone. My source of love, comfort and security is the person who has hurt me the most. And the saddest part is that this is the second time I'm going through this  loss. I feel like such an idiot, on top of all the pain.

I think the Addict is an incurable compulsive sex addict. All the cash withdrawals point in that direction, even though he claims it was only about 11 times over the past 10 years and only 3 of those times was fucking. But that's a lie. 

I'm scared of disclosure, because I'm going to find out a lot, I think. But I want and deserve the truth. Last disclosure was only a couple of bits of new info -  I had figured out about all the prostitutes by the time we did disclosure. But this time I feel like I'm going to find out about 30 - 40 more prostitute visits. It makes me sick to my stomach -  not the fucking of prostitutes, which is gross, but the betrayal of my heart. And I have the hollow pain in my chest. My heart is broken. 

Final results of STD tests came back and I don't have anything. That's a relief. Just have to watch for HPV at my next pap smear.

1:07am

I wish the crying would help me sleep, but the painful waves of sadness are keeping me awake.

Obliviously selfish

I am heavy with despair. I just cannot process what the Addict has done. Last time we went through this, he had no tools, no recovery, no therapy. He had not seen me in the deepest depths of anguish and pain caused by his choices. He had not seen me in a soul-crushing, existential crisis. We did not  have years of rebuilding trust after facing the crisis of betrayal.

But this time he had all of that. He had the tools, he had years of therapy and 12-step, he had people to contact, he knew the warning signs  - middle circle, inner circle - and he know how destroyed and heartbroken I was as a result of those choices he made. So why, why, why did he make THE SAME CHOICES AGAIN???

Here's why: he wanted to have his cake and eat it too. He wanted the awesome, if imperfect, loving wife who so many thought him lucky to have, who raised his son with him, who made a lot of the money, who took care of the finances and who supported his creative endeavors - he wanted all of that AND he wanted to get his fucking rocks off with prostitutes because HE THOUGHT HE COULD GET AWAY WITH IT.

He thought he could have it all and that I would be none the wiser. He didn't care about the spiritual damage he was doing to our relationship and to me. Because he could get away with it. He could fool me. He was fine with taking away my agency, my choice, the choice that I had made to be in a monogamous relationship with an honest man.

That is the ugly truth. And I am heartsick at the fact that he would do this to me, that he could do this to me, and that I would be dumb enough to let him, giving him space to grow and change and be a different person.  He would say it  didn't have anything to do with me. And to that I would say HOW CAN YOU  BE SO FUCKING SELFISH. Of course it has something to do with me. We are married and in a fucking committed relationship. So how could it not have anything to do with me? Only looking through a lens of SELFISHNESS. 

He thought he deserved a little something on the side. I remember - that's what he admitted the first time around. 

What a fucking waste.

Once an addict, ALWAYS AN ADDICT

I don't know when the Addict stopped going to SA meetings. And I don't know when he stopped going to AA meetings. I stayed out of his recovery because that is what our programs told us to do. But I know I knew at some point he wasn't going. I allowed myself to forget that addiction does not go away. And I wanted to provide space for him to be something other than what he had been in the past. But the truth is, an addict is simply managing their disease somewhere on the spectrum of successfully to unsuccessfully. Every day for the rest of their life. I allowed myself to believe that the Addict was okay without a daily SA or AA practice. He read and spoke about Buddhism, and that seemed like a good practice to me. I see now that this was a form of not taking care of myself. But it's confusing, because I'm supposed to stay out of his recovery. And I didn't want to assume the role of mother or dictator in our relationship. But my therapist suggests that, with couples dealing with sex addiction, there can be a middle ground where the two come together and share what's going on with themselves. The Addict and I did't have such a practice. At least, not after therapy stopped. And that was a mistake. I was too confident and comfortable in the progress we had made. I lost sight of the fact that recovery is a LIFE LONG pursuit achieved ONE DAY AT A TIME, not a destination that can be arrived at. The Addict bears equal responsibility, or maybe even more, because he knew the path he was on and did nothing to stop it. Never once in the past 15 years did he acknowledge to me that he was struggling, except for the 3 or 4 times I caught him lying about drinking. He would rush back to AA full of promises, to quell my fear-driven freak-outs I suppose, but that effort would always dissipate. And I never paid any mind to it, in part because his recovery was supposed to be his business, and in part because I think I wanted to believe that he was no longer a sex addict. 

So I chose to be in a relationship with an addict, and then I allowed myself to forget. I felt happy and loved and stopped being vigilant about taking care of myself. Not entirely, not even mostly, but in very important ways. 

I feel like I'm back at the beginning in so many ways. Although, I can  also see how I've grown, and that is some comfort. But it's really depressing to be having this struggle again.

What could I have done?

I know this is not healthy thinking, but I keep wondering what I could have done differently to keep this from happening. How could I have been a better wife and partner? More present? More compassionate? A better listener? Less of a perfectionist, less demanding? And I know none of these failings justify the Addict's decision to lie and betray me in all the ways he did. But, alone in the middle of the night, I still wonder.

A nightmare I could wake up from

Just awoke from a nightmare. My heart is still pounding. I dreamt that the Addict and I were driving on a freeway in Seattle at night. As we were on a ramp transitioning to another freeway, we were clipped by a speeding black car that spun in front of us and hit the guardrail. To avoid colliding with the black car, the Addict steered hard to the right, but we spun around and the back of our car tipped over the edge of the road into a ravine. I could feel us sliding down and I could see the trees in front of me in the dark ravine. "Should I jump out?" I yelled. I didn't hear any response but I could sense he was in the car with me. When we came to a stop I jumped out and yelled for him, but no response. I kept screaming his name and I could not hear him or see him. I stumbled out of the woods still calling for him. It was raining, and there was a road and some cars were passing and a few people on scooters. I was terrified and I wanted help, but I was afraid to flag down cars because I was afraid they would hurt me and I felt so vulnerable and helpless. 

I'm so glad I woke up, because that was really terrifying. I felt so frightened and vulnerable.

I've been reading the book of the first year of this blog, going over the first experience to revisit the learning and growth and strength that I found as I worked through the trauma of the first betrayal. There is a lot there that is hard to read, but it's good for me to get present to all that has happened so I don't shy away from it as I make decisions. 

One thing I'm struck by is how immediately forgiving I was last time and how careful with the Addict's feelings, while dismissing a lot of my own feelings. At one point, I wrote something about how I felt, but then went on to say that it was irrational, so "I immediately invalidated it." I wonder how much discounting of my feelings I did during that process because I could intellectually understand certain things and so therefore felt that I didn't have the right to have anger or pain, or felt indulgent when I did so. That is what I do. I minimize my own experience (because I can "handle" it) and don't allow myself to feel angry or upset. I look for explanations for what someone has done so I can have compassion and understanding. Not always, but a  lot, and especially with the Addict. Because I wanted to rebuild, and you can't rebuild without compassion and understanding. But it left some things unprocessed for me.

Ever since 2007, sex has been fraught for me, even during the hyper-sexualized period right after my initial discovery. I have never completely been able to be fully present because of thoughts on my mind. Either thinking about him fucking other women, or not wanting to be a fantasy object like those prostitutes - a vehicle for his desperate desire to achieve some unattainable peak experience. And, for the past several years, I've been having pain during intercourse because I've passed through menopause and my body has changed. So intercourse had  become infrequent again. Once every 2-4 weeks, although we did other things. But the amount of sex we'd been having had definitely slowed down. And I can't help but wonder if that's why, or at least part of why, he felt entitled to get hand jobs, blowjobs and intercourse from prostitutes.

Went for STD tests today (chlamydia, gonorrhea, HIV, hepatitis C, hepatitis B, syphilis; no HPV because that can only be tested for during pap smear, so I'll find that out later).

Feeling it all

My emotions have been all over the place. On Tuesday, before therapy, I felt like I was barely holding it together. I had many work meetings and was just praying that I didn't seem weird or fall apart. 

But by the time I got to therapy, I was feeling nothing. No anger, no sadness. Not empty or numb. More like shut off. 

This morning the deep sadness is creeping back. Everything feels heavy. 

I've been doing a good job of not drinking to numb my feelings. That's a win.

I am having such a hard time coming to terms with the fact that, for a few minutes of pleasure, the Addict chose to throw away everything we had worked so hard to rebuild - that was so hard for me to rebuild after what he had done to me. How could he possibly make that choice and love me at the same time. I don't think it's possible. And I guess this is what addiction is. The drug is more important than anyone in your life. Having an orgasm was more important to the Addict than our 34-years of life together. And it was a good life. He told me so, many times. We still held hands everywhere we went together. 

I am sad. I am lonely. I don't know what to do. I feel like any sane person would be long gone. But it's so hard to turn my back on the last 34 years of my life when I know that some part of the Addict is truly the man I love. But maybe that's a delusion I'm holding on to. Probably.

The Addict moved out today

It's hard to believe that on Thanksgiving, less than 8 weeks ago, I thought I was happily married to the love of my life, and today that person came and picked up his things and moved out of our house.

A fucking heartbreaking day. I am facing a life I never envisioned or wanted. Everything has changed. Every memory of our history and our family that I have will now be a memory of something I don't have any longer. Every day I wake up alone. I don't hear him coming through the door. I don't have that heart-leap of joy when I see his face. I can't look forward to snuggling on the couch and watching our favorite shows or having deeply interesting conversations or laughing at goofy stuff. 

I feel like I'm being washed down a fast-moving river with nothing to cling to and no way to get to shore. And the life I had and loved is getting farther and farther away. I have a hollow pain in the middle of my body that is always there - an aching emptiness. 

My girlfriend took Mom and me to the beach today so we could be out of the house when the Addict came. It was a beautiful day and the ocean waves and air really helped me to not focus on the fact that my partner of 34 years was packing up his things, taking our mattress (I had asked him to because I felt like it had prostitute DNA in it) and leaving. This is a day I would never have imagined 8 weeks ago. And before he confessed to the prostitutes 8 days ago, I was thinking of our separation as possibly temporary while we went to couples therapy to process his lying about drinking.

When we got to the beach I had to do deep breathing to keep from crying. The beach has always been one of our favorite places to go, and we've spent countless wonderful days together with Son building sand castles and playing in the surf. All those memories. 

As I look forward, thinking of life without my love by my side is overwhelmingly sad. But I have not been  cared for, honored and respected in the way I deserve and I can't submit to any more of it without killing my soul.

Looking back on how he lied to me when I asked him about the evidence I found that indicated he was going to massage parlors, I can see that he was gaslighting me. "I have been ashamed for lying to you about drinking and ashamed for thinking of acting out sexually on occasion so I have not been vigorous in my denials of your assumptions." He was trying to make me feel bad for not believing him when he told me that he had only thought about fucking prostitutes and had taken out the money but he didn't actually go (the EXACT SAME thing he told me in 2007). "But it doesn’t matter what I say. You have decided that everything I have ever said has been a lie." He told me he had been in a shame spiral all week and continued to deny that he had had sexual contact with anyone. 

That is the part of him that can never love me or care for me, no matter how much the rest of him wants to.  This part of him is a cold, ruthless liar. And his lies are emotional and spiritual abuse. The trust I thought we had rebuild over the past 15 years was a lie. My guts are churning and my heart is shattered.

Thanks to the lessons of Round One, I can and I will survive this. But the fucking pain is searing.