Hard things settling in

Warning: This is just stream of consciousness, so don't read further if you have little tolerance for disorganized thoughts and feelings.

It's been a week since I found out about Husband's most recent deceptions. Over that time it's begun to settle in that I need to take a look at where I really am in this journey. And that's been gradually more and more depressing as I realize how much is called into question.

Today I've been feeling a big sense of loss, some regret, and a good amount of anxiety and fear. I was at the bookstore this morning and saw a former classmate who went on to have a successful career as a studio executive in the entertainment industry. She was there with a handsome, fit man and two girls - her family I assume. Since I've know her she has launched her career, risen to the top, and then retired to be with her family. I hid from her. I couldn't bear to face her because I didn't know what I could say about my life. "Hi, I've accomplished little professionally, I'm unhappy in my current job, I'm married to an addict, I've just found out for the 3rd time that he's lying to me, we have no savings for the future, our house is under water, we live paycheck to paycheck. How are you?"

I feel so pathetic right now, it's hard to think straight. Part of me asks how I could possibly have ended up here, and the other part of me knows my life is mostly nothing more or less than the result of choices I've made. Most of the time I'm happy with our modest lifestyle because I've felt like I had the important things in life: family, friends, love, companionship, a solid relationship. But with the loss of the progress I thought Husband and I were making in our relationship I don't feel like I have anything. The only positive thing I can point to is my wonderful son, but I don't consider him a personal accomplishment.

Maybe I need to start doing gratitude lists so I can get re-connected with the wonderful things I do have in my life: Family who love me and would always be there for me, girlfriends who are like sisters who love me, a wonderful son who loves and appreciates me. I have my health. I have a job. I have a car. I have health insurance. It's only when I compare myself to others, or to where I think I should be that I feel the pain of failure. And that's a big pain. I'm beginning to fear that I've wasted my life. As I search for jobs and feel the ageism creeping in, I'm beginning to understand that doors are closing for me, whether or not that's right or fair.

My anon program recommends that we let self-seeking slip away and look for where we can be of service. Maybe that's my best next step. Where can I be of service today? How can I take who I am and the things I have to offer and be of service to others? I've never known the answer to that, but now the question is much more pressing. I feel like my options are to figure that our or to give up. And I really don't want to give up. But today I feel so heavy and tired, and the way forward looks fraught with obstacles, and I feel like the clock is ticking on life which means there's so much at stake. I feel like there's no room for error and that paralyzes me.

Action. I have to take action. Move in a direction, any direction, because movement is better than no movement. I think my absolutism is heightened when I feel insecure. But if I make list of actions and just take them, something will happen. And then I can take other actions based on the result. It can be that simple if I just stop thinking about it.

I'm the idiot still married to a liar

Last weekend Son and I came home from Son's sports lesson to find Husband passed out drunk on the couch. Not great by any standard, but really fucking bad because Husband was supposedly not drinking because of the last time he'd been secretly drinking and lying to me about it.

Four months ago I spelled out for Husband again how painful it is for me to be lied to,  how much damage it does to my ability to trust him, and how difficult it makes repairing our relationship. But husband is sick, and he's still not dealt with the things at the root of his sickness.

I've been trying to decide what to do now.

Instead of relying on only myself and withdrawing into problem solving in my head, I immediately called my three close girlfriends to get their perspective. They share my values, they all have kids (which gives me confidence that they understand my need for Son's well-being to be top priority,) they love both Husband and me and are mature enough not to take sides, and so I trust them to help bring clarity when there is too much fog on my path.

I can feel how much progress I've made in terms of boundaries, self-definition, and recognizing what's mine to deal with and Husband's to deal with. This weekend's incident brings into sharper focus where I still have work to do.

Husband lies to me for two reasons: He feels entitled to the things he does that he thinks I disapprove of him doing. And he's afraid of my response, my anger, disdain, or disappointment, if he does something I don't like. I've taken this as reasonable. Of course someone might lie if they're afraid of the consequences - afraid of losing something they value. And this is where my sickness comes in.

Living with somebody who is willing to lie costs me dearly in ways that are not immediately evident. Just like last time, I thought something was off. He'd come home smelling like alcohol after work sometimes. I even asked him about it once or twice and instead of getting defensive like I worried he might, he'd smile warmly and say "no, I haven't." Then I'd apologize for asking. But mostly I wouldn't ask, because I knew he was working hard, because he is a great dad and partner, because he is a good person, and because he'd made a promise to me after hearing clearly how much it hurt me to be lied to and hearing my explicit request for total honesty between us. I was sure I could trust him. 

So what I did was I readily, willingly negated myself, my sense of smell, my concerns, my ability to protect myself - I negated my own thoughts and instincts - in order to believe and give the benefit of the doubt to someone who has a history of repeatedly lying to me. 

Ah, the river Denial. It's depressing and embarrassing to be floating on your waters after five years of hard work. To be making this mistake, to still find blind spots (chasms?) with regard to my co-dependency. After all the progress I feel like I've made. I guess humility is part of this growth opportunity as well.

I'd stopped going to my weekly meetings because things were on an even keel. I was feeling closer and more loving and accepting toward Husband each day. Work was demanding, and I wanted to be sure to have time with Son while he still wants to spend time with me. So I let my meetings slide.

Lesson #1 (again): If I want to change lifelong patterns I'm going to need ongoing support - even after I feel like I've conquered those patterns. Five years is not enough practice to master the unlearning of behavior I've cultivated over a lifetime. Anon meetings need to be a regular part of my life. Maybe forever. (Ugh. I don't want to accept that.)


Lesson #2: Trust myself above all else. This is part of self-definition. I WILL SAY if things seem okay to me, and not rely on others to say that things are ok. And I will not trust known liars, no matter how repentant they are or what kinds of promises they make.

Lesson #3: Trust actions, not words. Promises mean shit. Actions are what make the difference. I know Husband loves me, he says he loves me, and his actions make him a great dad and partner to raise a child with. But his actions DON'T make him a good adult relationship partner, no matter what he says, how sorry he is, how different he wishes things were.

When Husband disappeared after our argument about his drinking this weekend and Son started asking where Daddy was I couldn't make up a story - I couldn't lie to Son. I didn't know where Husband was or when (if) he'd be coming back. So asked Son if he remembered how we'd talked about addiction and alcoholism in relation to drinking. He said yes, and I told him that Daddy actually had that problem, and that when we'd come home Daddy was passed out from being drunk. I told him that Daddy had been secretly drinking and lying to me about it. And that we'd had an argument and I didn't know where Daddy was but that he'd probably gone for a walk and would probably be back.

I've been not telling Son about any of our issues for the last five years. But I felt like the ground had been laid for a relatively frank discussion, and I wasn't going to lie to Son and break the trust in our relationship to cover up for Husband. I kept a positive tone, told Son that Daddy and I would be working on these issues. He seemed sad, and wanted time to himself. I let him know that Daddy was still the same Daddy and that we both loved him and that we could talk about anything whenever he wanted. I asked if he had any questions or concerns or worries. We talked a bit more and then he went up to his room "to think about things and listen to my story." (He loves to listen to stories on the iPod.) I asked him if he wanted to call any of his friends for support. "Not yet," he said.

I'm trying to get to a therapist to help me work out my next steps. If it was just me I'd throw in the towel, but I want to do the best I can to work on our issues for Son's sake.  But Son is old enough now and has enough emotional maturity and enough tools to handle what may come with support from Husband and me, and professionals if necessary. And I don't want to set the example that betrayal is trivial.

And another thing worth noting is that because Husband is willing to lie, I can't be sure that there aren't other things he's lying about as well. I don't think there are, but this is where Lesson #3 above comes into play, right?

Thinking about the input I've received from friends and from my Anon meeting, I'm pretty sure I'm ready to say that this is the last time. I'm willing to continue to work, but if husband lies to me, deceives me, betrays my trust again I'm going to get a divorce. That is really scary, because it's giving up a lot. Husband is a wonderful father, a great partner in many ways, a relatively responsible provider, he loves me, he's my champion, he's smart and warm and funny, he only wants the best for me. But I think sacrificing my Self in order to keep the positive things I get out of having Husband in my life is not going to turn out well for me. Living with lies confuses my relationship with the core of myself. It doesn't feel like a good thing to do because it requires not trusting myself. I have to write this here so that I have a plan to refer to if the going gets rough.

I am trying to hang on to the life I want, but the truth is I just don't have it and I never did. A hard thing to process at 47 years old. Another thing I don't want to accept.

God...please, please, please...grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, help me find the courage to get the support I need to change the things I can, and help me hold on to the clarity and the wisdom to know the difference.

I don't feel that clear right now.

How to re-establish trust?

It was a topic meeting this week at SAnon, and the topic was how do you re-establish trust?

SAnon is about sharing one's own experience, not about giving advice, so people spoke only about their own situations. As we went around the room, it became clear that the people in my meeting are in various stages of learning to trust themselves and speak their truths.

I think that is the answer, or at least the path toward the answer.

Talking, listening, and opportunity

I decided not to give weight to much of my conversation with Husband Thursday night. I'm not at my best when I'm drunk, so I chose to give him the benefit of the doubt. Friday morning he apologized for walking out on our conversation, and for the things he said. As I suspected, throwing in the towel was just a drunken gesture.

So we have work to do.

We both lost our wedding rings this year. He on a balmy September day at the beach, me a couple months later. I don't know where. I'd been thinking about what a new ring might symbolize for me, and I'd decided that instead of "forever" the circle would be an "O" and represent opportunity. Because our relationship is that for both of us - an opportunity to confront the deeper things we need to grow and develop as human beings. As long as we can maintain a healthy environment in which we're both working and progressing, I'm willing.

We went out tonight and had some good conversation. Mostly I talked, actually, and he listened. I talked about how much his lying hurts me, presses on the places where I'm tender - where my feelings of unworthiness reside. I told him that I hoped he'd try to get to the roots of the things it seems his addictions are servicing - his fear of being left, his resentments for being undervalued and unacknowledged, the entitlement that arises out of that, and his fear of inciting my anger. I'm an absolutist, but I'm not an angry, irrational person. His mother is. I'm not her, but I'm paying the price for their relationship and I'm not willing to stay in that role. I told him that, too.

I acknowledged some of my own issues that contribute to our dynamic: My absolutism, my deep seated feeling that I must never need a man so  I won't be vulnerable to dependency, and my need to make sure men I'm in relationships know that I'm not dependent on them. Of course they fit neatly into his issues. I guess we really do seek out that which we need to learn. 

He went to his first AA meeting today, and wasn't surprised to find he was in the right place. He told me he'd always avoided going to AA because he wasn't an alcoholic, and didn't want to give up drinking. But he said that recently all the problems we've been having - the lies he's told - have revolved around his drinking. He talked about how he'd stopped having boundaries around work, and let his practices and meeting attendance slip because of it. He's going to return to regular spiritual practices, regular meetings, and to regular exercise as well - the things he needs to do to take care of himself.

Addicts slip. We all do. But he's willing to own up to his mistakes, willing to take responsibility for his actions, for his well-being, and for his part in building a healthy relationship. He's willing, as I am, to choose to move toward his challenges instead of running and avoiding.

So things are better. I don't feel so lost. In fact, because I am more grounded in my own self now and less reactive, I feel stronger and more peaceful.

There is still work to be done, for sure. The difference now is I've learned that I'm up to the task.

Fresh pain - part of living with an addict?

Can't sleep. Husband came home drunk tonight from his company Christmas party (I went to a friend's birthday party, because the Christmas party was sounding like it might be dull and it's at least an hour drive to the company headquarters.) I hadn't heard from him all day and all evening, which was a little unusual. And I couldn't reach him. But he called when I was on my way home to say he was home.

He was coming out when I was walking up to the house, and he said he was going to park his car. That was odd, and I went down the street with him to see what it was all about. It was parked perpendicular to the curb, and it had run out of gas on our street. When I opened the door to help him push it into a more legal position, I found an open bottle of vodka on the front seat. Upon further investigation I found a bunch of empty wine containers in the car as well. Turns out that for the past several weeks (so he says) he's been drinking after work "a couple days a week" and not telling me, after we'd agreed that we weren't going to be drinking except on specific special occasions. Which came about because of another time he got drunk and lied to me about how much he'd had to drink.

I just don't know what to do. On the one hand I really do love him, and really want him in my life for so many reasons - he's a great dad, smart, great sense of humor, loves me, supports me in the things I want to do, encourages me, is a good partner in terms of sharing responsibilities. But there's a part of him that feels entitled to things (online games, booze, food, not porn or prostitutes as far as I know) when he feels overworked and/or under a lot of pressure, but he's so afraid of me that instead of coming out and saying so he sneaks and lies to me about it. He doesn't seem to know how to deal with those feelings in healthier ways when he gets overwhelmed. But the lies really hurt. I feel disrespected, and it brings back the pain and sadness about past betrayals.

I'm finding it really hard to make a deep emotional bond with someone I don't know that I can trust. So part of me is always withdrawn from him, and things like this just kind of cement that gap between us. And honestly the physical intimacy is a challenge, too, partly because he's not the person I thought he was, and partly because every time we are physical I can't stop thoughts of what he did from coming into my head. I often need a lot of time (days or weeks) to get to a place where I feel like having sex, and he seems to feel invalidated by that. Understandable, but I don't know what else to do but take the time I need. Sex feels too intimate do just lie back and think of England.

I really want to work on things with him. Thinking about my life without him, and Son's life with us divorced - neither of those scenarios seem appealing. But neither does "faking it" and pretending we have a relationship that we don't for Son's sake. I don't want to lie to Son like that. But I don't know if Husband is capable of resolving the things that are at the root of all his addictions - the entitlement and fear (and the family issues they stem from) which combine to result in him lying to me.

I don't know what to do right now. I know I can figure something out. (Although it may not be up to me anyway - in his drunken state he was talking about it probably being better if we decide it's over.) But right now, I'm just at a loss.

Emotional intimacy after betrayal

Maybe I'm no longer capable of being vulnerable enough to have a deep, emotional bond with Husband.

I've often said that deep trust is critical to deep love. But as I've been thinking about it, I realized that it's very common to deeply love people we know we can't trust. You can love deeply without attachment, without expectation, without an agenda, with an appreciation for all that someone is and is not.

So maybe the more correct theorem is that a deep emotional partnership requires deep trust.

I'd like to have that again with Husband, but a question remains before me like badly worn carpet: How do I open up to him without relying on trusting him?

My intellect replies that I need to trust myself to take care of my well-being, come what may. And I guess that's what I've done. I've sought help and support, learned about and drawn boundaries, taken responsibility for things that are within my control, tried hard to stay out of things that aren't mine to address, wrangled new tools. But all after the fact. After the searing, soul-shattering pain of being deeply betrayed by someone I thought I knew intimately and trusted absolutely.

So, if I must be honest, what I'm really searching for here is a way to avoid ever feeling that pain again.

Therein lies the shit. (Not the good kind.) Because to avoid pain is to avoid living. I know that, based on the life I have.

Everything is a balance between life and death, if I think about it, because if you're not living you're essentially dying. So one is choosing (if only by not choosing) life or death in every moment.

Do I take this moment and live, or do I let myself die a tiny death? And how many tiny deaths does it take to make a wasted life?

I don't want a marriage where there's no emotional intimacy, no attachment, no expectation. I don't want a marriage of loving detachment. That would be fine for many other types of relationships - friends, other family members, even a child, who is supposed to move away and become separate. But I don't what that with the person I'm drawing into my life to be my significant partner. I want attachment to deepen, and expectation to arise out of shared values, experiences and desires.

So many words that sentence us to suffering: attachment, expectation, desire.

But being attached and having expectations means living in denial of some things I've come to believe (all things change, the only thing predictable is that life is unpredictable, as adults we are solely responsible for our experience of life, the actions of others are completely beyond my control.)

How do I resolve those things?

Perhaps there is no need to resolve anything, and my longing for resolution is another manifestation of my inescapable absolutism, simultaneously blinding and crafty.

Perhaps faith is the only answer to me. Turn it over. Trust that my Higher Power is bridging a gap, doing for me what I cannot do for myself. Trust that I have everything I really need, and that everything before me, including Husband, is an opportunity.  Easy to forget when fear seeps into the cracks of life.  I need a structure that will help me remember.

Maybe my relationship with Husband is like a gym membership, and if I just get my ass up and go work out every day the results will be forthcoming.

We're all hurtling toward death anyway. What's it gonna do - kill me?

Need input

After Husband recently lied to me about how many drinks he had at a party, I asked him what he was going to do to address this breach of trust.

In addition to returning to therapy (still hasn't happened) he said he was going to stop drinking for a year.

Well, this morning he woke up and told me that last night at his "dinner with the guys" he had a glass of wine. From the rest of his tale I suspect it may have been more than one, but no matter. Another breach of trust.

Here's an email exchange between us from this morning, with me trying to hold firm to my boundaries, express myself, and figure out whether or not I'm holding Husband to an impossible standard:

Husband: Sorry for being cranky this morning and for drinking last night. This [issue I have at work] is really stressing me out but that is no excuse and certainly not your problem. I will make sure I don’t bring any baggage home any more.

Sorry also about asking you to take Son to camp all this week. I know you’ve been taking most of the responsibility for him since I started this job and I really appreciate that.

Me: I appreciate your email, and that you're acknowledging things and taking responsibility for them.

The thing that's disappointing to me is how quickly a commitment you made to me went out the window. A commitment you made to me because you lied to me about drinking.

We need to get help to work on rebuilding our trust and intimacy to a higher level, and to work on the issues we have that are obstacles to that.

Can you make it a priority to make an appointment for us with somebody?

Husband: I have re-contacted [my SA therapist] about setting up a couples session.

Me: Thanks.

I'm really sad about this. I want to make progress, but it's impossible to grow intimacy without trust.

You are a fantastic dad, and a fantastic person to have a kid with. It's just in the relationship between us that I don't feel safe. I don't lie to you, or treat my commitments to you with only mild regard, so it's very hard for me to understand when you do that. I feel like, when it comes down to it, our relationship is not worth the effort to you. I know it takes rigor and discipline to have such a high level of integrity, but I can't accept anything less, given our history. And if you feel like I'm asking too much, I don't know what to think about that. Which is why we need some help.

So thanks for contacting [the therapist.] If we don't have something scheduled with her within a week, I'm going to find someone else.

Husband: I don’t think you’re asking too much. Why do you think that?

Me: Not thinking that, so much as wondering if that's the case. It's been less than 6 weeks since you made the commitment not to drink for a year. And you made the decision to set aside that commitment. So I wonder if my expectation that you'll keep your commitments to feels too great for you.

This is no small thing - I take the steps you said you'd take after you lied about the drinks very seriously, because I'm looking for opportunities to build our relationship. We've made a lot of progress, but there is still a significant amount of damage to be repaired. Some of it can only be repaired with the passage of time, and things like lying about the drinks and deciding to drink when you told me you wouldn't reset the clock for me. I feel like I have to start over. (I don't know what came of the nightly 10th step - maybe that's what prompted you to talk with me this morning, and that was a good thing.)

Again, I'm not talking in generalities about you as a person - I know you're trustworthy and reliable in a lot of areas. It's only in the relationship between us that I have huge doubts, because it feels like you keep throwing me over when the going gets rough, or even just choppy. You need to find other ways to handle your stress if we're going to maintain our relationship. Abandoning promises and lying aren't going to work for me. Nor will the other extreme - not talking about things and pretending everything is fine when it isn't. Those are both old ways of dealing with things.

I wonder if a journal, where you write down 3 things you're grateful for in your life, will give you some perspective on the stresses you have. And maybe, so you don't discount things that should be addressed, you write down 3 things you need to address and an action you'll take to address them, too. This is one thing that comes to mind as an alternative to those old ways of dealing with things.
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Do I just have to accept certain behaviors if I'm going to stay married to an addict with narcissistic tendencies in recovery?

I really can't tell if I'm expecting too much. I know perfection is an impossible standard. But when I think about whether or not I could live up to the expectation I have in terms of truthfulness and integrity, it doesn't seem impossible at all. But I'm also an absolutist with blind spots who often needs help taking an honest look at herself, so I'm asking for feedback.

Forgive but can't forget?

A good article: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/32387125/ns/today-today_relationships/

I've been struggling with this issue of getting past the past lately. Don't know why it's coming up now, more than two years out. But healing from sex addiction and betrayal has its own timeline, and while I can work hard, and I can watch Husband working hard, I've learned I can't put a date on when I'll be "healed."

Why I stay

I've been asking myself this question again lately, and this morning had some clarity that allowed me to remember.

I've considered starting over. Leaving always seemed like the easiest option. But I realized early on that for me, leaving would actually be turning away from pain that I know I need to face.

I had a major betrayal when I was young. My father went on a camping trip with my uncle and my uncle returned alone with a message. My father had said he was very ill and was leaving the country to get treatment and that we should not try to find him.

I don't have many memories about this time, although I was twelve and should probably recall more. So I don't know how long it all went on. But I remember that my mother began to doubt his story. I was incensed! How could she think my father would lie about something like this? How could she have such thoughts? As a loyal and loving daughter, I dismissed her doubts with disdain.

Well, as it turned out, my father had gone to a commune in northern California to try to "find himself." He'd had a very stressful year, and basically had a nervous breakdown and left.

From my mother I have learned to be understanding, forgiving, reasonable. I've learned that many points of view are valid and to be considered. That's what she showed me how to do when my father came back.

But what I never learned, never had the chance to do, was have and express my feelings of hurt, betrayal and anger at my father. I had the absolute faith of a child in a parent, made possible by the love and security my family had provided up to that point. And he had decimated that, blown it way by lying to us in a way that I'd never imagined possible.

Secretly, inside, I swore that I'd never trust men again; never, ever need a man. I'd have power over them, be desireable, but always remain detatched. And I was good at this. I even told Husband that when we started our relationship. "I want you to know that I don't NEED you."

Over the years this fear gradually slipped away. Through my relationship with husband I learned that it was okay to trust people. But I'm also an absolutist. An all or nothing kind of gal. So trust is either absolute or absent. No room for human flaws and frailty.

So that's what I think I have the opportunity to face now. That we often hurt the ones we love. But that doesn't necessarily mean we love them any less.

There is no man out there that can make me feel good about myself, or bad about myself for that matter. Another lesson I face here is to learn to be the source of those feelings for myself.

By not turning away from the pain, by being with it, feeling it, and learning to express my reaction to it, I think I can strengthen all the parts of me that were hurt before. I can teach them that they are stronger than they realize. And I can learn love and compassion for myself beyond what my absolutism has allowed before.

This is why I stay. This is the hope that keeps me on this path.

On better days I can remember this.

If not trust, then what?

I am really struggling today. Struggling with the value and meaning of trust. Struggling to put aside the desire for a different past. Struggling with feeling like Husband can never love me enough to make me feel safe from being lied to and betrayed again.

Life is so short, I want to live in this moment with the man in front of me who loves me and is committed to recovery and to sharing his feelings and creating a happy family with me. But I thought I had that kind of committment before - he already promised not to betray me, not to lie, to respect me, to listen to and communicate with me, to be honest and trustworthy, to look for the greatness within me. Those were all part of the wedding vows we wrote together 11 years ago(about the time he was starting to secretly visit strippers for lap dances)after 9 years of being together. So if he makes promises now, of what value are they? And if asking for these things is futile because we can never know who someone really is or what someone will actually do, if all we can really know is that nothing is permanent, then what can I ask for? Do I be in a relationship and ask for nothing? That doesn't seem like a relationship to me. But I don't want to delude myself by asking for things that someone can't truly give, even if they intend to.

The love of friends

Marcie sent me this today:

“ Pleasure is always derived from something outside you, whereas joy arises from within… all cravings are the mind seeking salvation or fulfillment in external things and in the future as a substitute for the joy of being.” - Ekhart Tolle

I think it's a concise way of putting what Husband was doing into context.

Driving back from taking Son to play in the snow north of LA, my mind drifted to thoughts of the places Husband had gone for sex. Heading west into the city we passed through one of the communities he went where there is a brothel - I guess that's what you'd call it, although that seems old fashioned.

I wondered again what must have been going through his mind, what he thought about on those drives to and from meeting prostitutes, how he put it into the context of the rest of his life.

He said there's no rational answer, that the reality lies somewhere in craziness. Not as an excuse, but as the best explanation he has to offer. There's no question in my mind that he was seeking substitutes for the joy of being, because he was so removed from that joy at the time.

I still struggle with how to reconcile the shift with Husband. For years he's the person I love and trust the most and in an instant he became the person who lied to me and hurt me far beyond what anyone else, beyond any perceived "worst enemy" I've ever faced in life. Yes he still loves me, but instead of being the safest place, he's the most dangerous place. It's such an abrupt transition that the ongoing processing of it still causes glitches in my mind.

Monogamy

Sophia told me today about this dating site that is for married people looking to have affairs. I went and checked it out. Their slogan is "When monogamy becomes monotony."

I've never been a prude, but the thought of such a service makes me sick to my stomach. Something that encourages secret lives, not taking responsiblity for what you really want in life, deception, lying...ugh...I just think it's awful.

Not that I haven't considered it since I found out about Husband's betrayal. But so many of the testimonials were from people who sounded desperately unahppy or deluded.

Maybe monogamy isn't natural. I don't know...

I think it's a choice, a decision, and one that takes courage. It seems easier to say "I"ll have you, and then I'll have someone else, too, when the inclination strikes me." If you say you'll be monogamous, you're trusting that the other party will do the same (I hope - I'm definitely not for unilateral monogamy unless that's what you really want). You're saying you'll give up unknown pleasures and good times on faith. I think that takes courage. Because you might get f'd over. Your partner might cheat or even discard you. It is a risk.

I feel so judgemental right now. I think I'm reacting. Reacting to my own pain. I know some people participate in responsible non-monogamy. The guy I was exchanging emails with on Salon personals was doing that (both he and his spouse - that's part of the deal.)

Anyway, clearly this has pushed my buttons. I'm going to think more about the meaning and value of monogamy.

What does co-dependency look like?

It goes something like this...

Yesterday I found a receipt from one of Husband’s business trips this past February. Oddly enough, it was on the floor in the hallway by the front door. Don’t know why. It was for 3 double Jack Daniels and 3 Sam Adams at a bar on a night I know he took out $400 from our account to try to get a prostitute.

I didn’t get a chance to talk with him about it until today after I landed in Sacramento. I called him at work to let him know I landed safely and asked if it was a good time for me to ask some questions. I’ve done this so many times (call with questions) that he knows what this question means, and was ready to listen and answer as best he could from his rather public cube at work.

“You know when you went on business trips you told me that although you tried, you were never able to successfully hire a prostitute. Is that true?”

“Yes.”

“And did you ever just entertain prostitutes or other women on these trips?”

“No.”

“Because last night I found a receipt on the floor.” I explained what it for, and what time the credit card was processed (just after midnight.) I know he often orders a scotch on the rocks with a beer, and that he likes Sam Adams. But I’ve never know him to order bourbon. He said that he actually does order bourbon when the scotch is too expensive. (Odd, again, because well scotch can’t be more expensive than JD. I may have to ask about this again, because this “odd” type of thing was something I usually ignored before.) He said he thought he had been talking to a guy and may have bought him a couple beers, but after he thought about it for a bit he decided that he had been alone on that occasion.

Finally I came to the question that had been the first to enter my mind when I found the receipt. “That’s nine drinks. So you had nine drinks by yourself?” He said he did, and that his intention was to get drunk since he was unsuccessful in arranging a prostitute. (He’s said he only used online services, never picked them up on the street.) I asked him if he’d ever considered that alcohol might be another addiction of his. That maybe, like his dad, he was a functioning alcoholic, but that it was actually a problem. He said that he had considered that. And he said he couldn’t keep talking about that subject anymore because of the lack of privacy. We agreed to discuss it later.

There are still lingering things that fall into the “odd” category.

He withdrew $100 on 2/8, $400 on 2/9 and $40 on 2/10 (I've done the research and I have a spreadsheet cross-referencing cash withdrawals and cell phone records), yet he paid for those 9 drinks with his credit card. So where did the $500 go? He said when he couldn’t get prostitutes he went shopping for gifts. But I don’t recall $500 worth of gifts coming home. Yet he took out that $40 on 2/10, so he must have spent that $500 somewhere. I have to ask him about this.

Yes, I know this is what obsessing and co-dependency are all about. And yes, I’m still going to ask.

I’m sitting in the Sacramento airport. I have vivid memories of being in this airport for business travel on June 5, four days after I’d found out about all of Husband’s lies and infidelity. I was standing right outside the security checkpoint on the phone with Nora, weeping because I didn’t want to go home, because I didn’t what to go back to the life I had there now. If I didn’t go home, maybe it wouldn’t be real. It all felt so unreal anyway. That’s what the Sacramento airport reminds me of.

Break Out Blogger

A nice thing happened today.

I found out that I've been given a Break Out Blogger Award:



Hopefully that means that more people will be able to find my blog and begin to understand that they are neither crazy nor alone.

Betrayal and infidelity are universal problems, and because of that there are common human stories and experiences that cut across all demographics. I think these commonalities are part of the path of healing...knowing that there are others who have gone through all this pain, anguish, confusion, anger, disillusionment, loneliness, and despair (to name a few) and have survived, and in many cases come out stronger, happier and healthier. These shared feelings, thoughts and experiences are a beacon of light when the storm is bad and you can't see the land. Mamampj has been that for me, and it's good to think that our blogs and others like them will provide that for others.

The duality of love and betrayal in a relationship

Mamma Mary Jones has some amazing thoughts on her blog A Room of Mama's Own about getting some perspective on how a partner can love you deeply and betray you deeply at the same time. Her post gave me an insight into how to love, appreciate and accept Husband as he is, which is my only choice if I want to stay with him. And I know I do, because there is a lot to love about him (and now, a lot to accept.)

My existential crisis persists

Friday night I made some last minute plans to meet Husband to see a play. The play was at a theater we founded 10 years ago. I was involved near the beginning, but I haven't stayed involved over the years as he has.

As I got ready to leave I started thinking about the possibility that he was having an affair with someone at the theater. There are plenty of young, beautiful, talented women there. Maybe he met someone and has been meeting her at the theater. Maybe that's why he's often having to go to see shows at the last minute (he's on the Board, so he has to see the shows but we never make regular plans to go together)...maybe he didn't sound so excited that I was coming when I called to tell him...maybe if I get there earlier than I said I would I'll be able to tell who he's cheating with and catch him in intimate conversation with her...will it always be like this?...will I always wonder?....not just with Husband, but with any partner I'm in an intimate relationship with?...how can I ever know? I've learned that appearances will deceive. Of all the people I've met in my life, Husband seemed like the last person who would ever lie to me, cheat on me, have sex with other women. Not just by my judgement - I've had friends who know about this situation say the same. My heart was pounding, my lips were getting cold, my breathing was rapid.

When I arrived at the theater at 5 minutes to curtain, Husband was by himself in the little box office selling tickets. No beautiful, talented, young woman exchanging hushed, intimate conversation and sharing looks and laughs as I'd envisioned. I was somewhat relieved, but still shaking inside. Husband could tell immediately that there was something wrong and asked if I was okay. I told him I was having some anxiety, but there was no time to talk at that moment so I waited until intermission to tell him the specifics.

We talked at length during intermission, after the show, later that night by the fire in our back yard, and more at couples therapy yesterday. I feel much better now, because I've made a connection to who he is today instead of who he was before he began to get help and support for his issues.

It was so weird, because I don't often think about him having affairs with people now - or even paid sex with prostitutes. I believe him when he tells me that the only extramarital sex he's had is with prostitutes, and that he's not doing that anymore. I don't know what initiated that anxiety, but I know it's a product of the existential crisis I'm working through based on the new context I have in life.

A couple big fears I identified from the experience: I'm afraid that since there's no way to know for sure that someone won't betray me (for example, having a loving, intimate relationship with someone for two decades is no indication) I'll just get hurt deeply hurt again if I place my trust in someone. Right now I don't feel willing to go through this depth of pain again. I'm also afraid that I'll be so good at protecting myself that I'll end up alone - not physically alone, but alone inside, alone in my deepest, most intimate places. I don't want that kind of life. I've seen too many examples and it's too sad an existence.

Still feeling a lack of power

I realized this morning that despite everything (Husband's best efforts, therapy, reading, etc) I'm still feeling a lack of power in my relationship. I also know it comes from me, not from Husband. From my fears and insecurities. I know it's there because I still have thoughts of having my own infidelities to hurt him ("Honey, I met this hot, sexy guy (and when I say sexy I mean six-pack) at a coffee shop today and we ended up going back to his apartment and having sex. But it meant nothing to me and it had nothing do to with you. And I'm only going to do it 27 more times." Pause. Sweet smile. "How does that feel?!"), and I worry about doing something "wrong" that will bring back his resentments.

We started a dance class last night. Husband is a very good dancer, and we love dancing together. It feels great to be in his arms, and to be having fun with him. I'm glad that in the midst of all the chaos we're able to make this time to do something light and fun - and something that will help further the re-establishment of the bond we had, help us move forward on our path.

Acceptance

I just read an important distinction regarding acceptance.

You can accept where you are in the present moment but that doesn't mean accepting fate or, in other words, a future that you don't want. So, in that context...

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change (the past); courage to change the things I can (the future) and the wisdom to know the difference.

(For reference, here's the Wikipedia entry for the Serenity Prayer.)

I'm struggling with acceptance right now. I don't like my new past. I want the past I thought I had before, except I want both Husband and I to experience it the way I thought it was, not the way he thought it was (which wasn't so great for him.) And that, of course, is impossible in any case.

Acceptance. I'm going to have to try for one day at a time.

Understanding a source of pain and anxiety

Just realized that a source of anxiety for me is that I'm missing a certainty I used to feel about the future.

Before June 1st, based on the past I had a strong sense of what my future might look like. Now, based on my new past, I no longer have that feeling.

The reality is that I could have no more actual certainty about the future before June 1st than after, but I FELT like I could. The discovery of my husband's extended adultery with prostitutes simply put me face to face with the fact that the future for all of us is unknowable, uncertain and mostly beyond my control. We may have beliefs, ideas, thoughts, feelings, hopes, goals, etc...But there is no way to know for sure. That fact comes into direct conflict with the base survival instinct. So that is the true source of a lot of anxiety for me...being present to the fact that as a human being the next moment will forever be unknown to me and beyond my ability to control.

I have lost a sense of my value to my partner

I realized this morning on the drive to work that part of what I feel sad and disoriented about is that I have lost a sense of how much my husband values me in his life. Not surprising considering that he's lied to me for years and secretly had sex and sexual activity with so many other partners over that time. He tells me all the time how much I mean to him, how I've saved his life, and how much he loves me. And I believe him. But words are words - I've heard all those words before June 1st. I don't doubt that he meant what he said, but one does not get a sense of another's appreciation by being betrayed. I need and appreciate his words to that effect, but I need more than that. I need actions. I need him to work hard to restore the context I had, not like a thought or a feeling, but the context in which I lived my life, part of which was that he valued me so much that he chose to be with me over all others, chose to be sexually intimate with me over all others, and (I thought) chose to be deeply open and honest with me allowing for a level of trust I shared with no one else. These things gave me a sense of how much my husband valued me, and developed over years, decades even. Then they were suddenly jerked away from me when I found out about the years of prostitutes. So it will take words and actions beyond the everyday, and time - like restoring ancient forests after strip mining or delicate coral beds after they are struck by passing ships.