Oh that's right...you're still a narcissistic asshole

Lightbulb! Lest I forget that recovery is a journey not a destination, Husband's occasionally stunning sense of entitlement rears its head.

We were on our way home after a lovely evening out, and talking about the assignment that Husband's therapist had given him: Find something within the family to set boundaries about, something where you say "this is how it's going to be for me."

He asked for me to help him think about what that might look like, and the first thing that popped into my head was that he needs a computer that is his. Right now, he's using my mom's laptop (she's essentially given it to him, though she'll use it from time to time.) The desktop computer that we bought for him has become a family computer. He's really been longing for a computer that nobody else touches but him. (I have a laptop that I use for work that's pretty much mine, although it's serving as the family DVD player right at this moment.)

So I suggested a computer. He grinned and told me that there's an Apple iPad on reserve for him until 3pm tomorrow. News to me, but fine.

He's really been pining for an iPad, but I'm not really a proponent of being early adopters only because we are pretty much broke. But I'd been thinking that maybe we should get one eventually since he's been wanting one so badly.

Reviews for the iPad came out today, and @pogue said that the iPad is great for consuming but not great for creating. Husband is a writer, and he uses his computers primarily for writing, Lexulous and Facebook. But writing is the main purpose.

We were in the kitchen, his arms around me, and he rested his cheek on mine and said, "I really do want a computer."

"I think you should get a computer," I said, "but not an iPad."

"Why?" he asked as he drew back.

I was surprised by his irritation.

"Well...because they're brand new..." He looked disgusted. "And because David Pogue said they're great for consuming stuff but not so great for creating stuff."

The conversation ended pretty quickly and he huffed off to bed.

I was pissed off. He's been unemployed 15 months. We wonder every month if/how we're going to pay our mortgage. We owe over $15K in back taxes because of the year he somehow thought he filed taxes but didn't. (That year he also spent thousands of dollars on prostitutes.) The IRS put a hold on ALL the money in our bank account this week. And he's ticked off that I don't think he should get an iPad right now.

ENTITLEMENT: Belief that one is deserving of or entitled to certain privileges.

Yes, I am married to a narcissist. That will never change.

What will change is his level of self awareness, his ability to perceive his impact on others, and how he responds to his own behavior. And those things have changed. A lot. Through a lot of courage, hard work and willingness on his part, he is a different person in many regards. But, like my absolutism, his sense of entitlement isn't something that can be cured.

That's what I think.

And now, here's how I feel:

Ugh. I really hate that aspect of his personality. Really. It's stupid! I mean, how can a person in such a dire financial position logically harbor a notion that he should be among the first people in the WORLD to own an iPad? Is this thought process what a fucking Ivy League education buys? And why do I have to catch attitude for such stupid thinking? Why do I have to be subject to your infantile tantrums? I have ENOUGH to deal with. Fucking evolve, won't you???!!!!

Phew! What a relief to vent and get that off my chest!

I'm not sure how to handle with this. I can see it for what it is (Husband's narcissism surfacing,) and Husband probably will too over the next few days. But I'm also really irritated, and my inclination is to withdraw. My thought process is that I don't want to deal with stupid asshole behavior so I won't. I'll tune it and him out until it stops. But I know that's not really healthy either. Because there are things going unspoken (but not unexpressed - which is key. I come from a lineage of expert PASSIVE aggressors.) But I know he's not at his best, so I don't want to argue with him about something that he'll probably acknowledge as assholic before long. So I feel like I don't want to say anything. But that's patronizing and also gives into my penchant for deciding unilaterally that I will just deal with something on my own rather than confront someone.

I'm confused. I'm in the middle of this, and I can't see the forest for the trees. I really don't know how to respond to this in a healthy way.

So I'm going to sleep on it.

I'll be the one in bed next to the asshole.

No "fuck you"

Because I have decided to try to work on my relationship with Husband, I've never had that final fuck-you moment. I've never been able to declare myself completely free of his influence and power over me.

Instead I have said, "Yes, I gave you power over me - I gave you my trust. You betrayed that trust. And instead of withdrawing I'm choosing to trust you again. I'm giving you the power to hurt and betray me again."

We are two different people now, so there is no going back to what we had before. We have no choice but to create something new.

So maybe it's not as crazy as it feels sometimes.

But sometimes I have doubts. Sometimes I imagine doing to him what he's done to me. Except if I consider it for any length of time the cost always seems too great.

Tonight he said to me in mock exasperation, "I love you so much I can't stand it!" I used to feel that way about him. But now I don't know that I'll ever be able to feel that way again. Maybe that's the trade-off for the gains I've made. I give up that child-like, carefree, unfettered kind of love in exchange for learning how to live in the world as an adult woman, responsible for my own happiness and well being.

Do grown-up women love their partners so much they can't stand it?

I wish I could feel that kind of enthusiasm for Husband again. He's a great partner, great father, a good, kind, intelligent person. But since I've never been able to declare myself no longer vulnerable to him, will I always be protecting myself in some way, thereby forsaking any possibility of the depth of intimacy I used to feel?

I've said that being betrayed by Husband made me feel like I'd been shot by the fellow soldier I was sharing a fox hole with. Now, after the work we've done individually and as a couple, I feel confident that Husband is still a good fox hole partner. I think he'd always have my back. But there's also a part of me that is poised for anything to happen. Not because of him, but because of me. Something to do with not being able to let go of the past. Maybe it's resentment, maybe it's realizing who I'm really married to and being less enamored of that man than the man I thought I'd married. I try to focus on gratitude, because there is a lot to be grateful for in the man that Husband is. But sometimes I can't overcome my fear and confusion. Even when I feel firmly in the present, not wanting a different past, not worrying about the future...I still don't feel the same free, deep, joyful love for him that I used to. Maybe this is just the process of getting to know the person he really is and falling in love with that person. It took 20 years to get to where we were before, so maybe it just takes time (more time than I thought) to rebuild that level of vulnerability and trust.

Sometimes I feel so good on my path, and sometimes I feel so lost and stuck.

Stuck...again

After two years of gigantic personal growth spurts, newly discovered spirituality, and tons of therapy, it would seem like everything would be on the up and up, yes?

Well of course not! The whole "journey, not a destination" rigmarole seems to be proving true once again. (This is why it gets on mugs and magnets I suppose. They rival bumper stickers as a source for all of life's deepest truths.)

I've spent the last couple weeks caught in a downward spiral. I'm in one of those places where I'm finding it hard to feel anything, mostly where Husband is concerned.

Yesterday afternoon we snuck away together to see Julie & Julia. I watched with a little sadness because that's the relationship I thought we had in many ways - loving, connected and close but independent, respectful, supportive - and the relationship I thought I would have as we grew old together. (I'm sure I've idealized things, and that's something I need to keep in mind.) But now I have doubts I will ever feel that easy deep connection with him again, and that makes me very sad.

Husband does everything right. He has worked his 12-step program diligently since day one; he's gone to therapy; he ACTS differently; he's grown tremendously; and he's probably much more the man I thought I was married to than ever before. He's a different person than he was in 2007.

But despite all his work and all his progress (not to mention my own work and progress,) I have sunk into this low place where my relationship is concerned. I talked with my therapist about it, and she summed up our session saying that I seem to have two choices: Wait it out and let my openness to deep intimacy grow as Husband proves himself over time; or take the risk and jump in with my heart open as wide as possible. Both are fine choices she said.

I want to do the latter, because I think a risk like that with someone who has been in active recovery for 2 years is less of a risk than it feels. And I know peace will be more accessible if I can make the shifts within myself that make that kind of openness possible for me again. But I just don't seem to be able to push myself past some undefinable obstacle that has settled in. Sometimes I wonder if I love my husband. I think I do, I have a lot of good reasons to, but sometimes I can't feel it.

When I imagine being with someone else, I certainly don't get any rush of relief. Another man simply represents a different set of challenges and unknowns. There is no Prince Charming (if anything, I believe I'm the only one who can sweep me off my feet.) So I think something in me needs to shift. I think my current numbness has little to do with Husband, and mostly to do with another level of growth that is becoming available to me. I think the root of my funk has something to do with my inability to completely surrender to the bottom line that life is ultimately beyond my control. My Good People/Bad People buckets can't protect me from being hurt and betrayed.

And Husband and I are DIFFERENT. (Something I forget again and again.) But that doesn't make him dangerous (I also forget this.) It just feels that way. Not that I'm absolved from taking care of my own well-being first and foremost. But he can tick differently from me and not be dangerous as long as he's not slipping into delusion, denial and grandiosity. And how do I know that's not happening? Only by his actions - only by the fact that he's working his program, going to meetings, apologizing when he's an asshole, doing things differently from how he used to when he was an unconscious narcissistic addict and I was an unconscious codie.

It does feel like a bit of a tightrope to navigate, but I think any high-stakes situation is going to feel like that.

I met with my step-buddy (I'm still working on writing up my 1st step) and she reminded me that the ups and downs I'm feeling are the landscape of a long-term relationship. I am an absolutist through and through, and another thing I always, ALWAYS forget is that this moment is not how it will be forever.

This too shall pass.

Is Higher Power up to something?

I've spent most of the day at the hospital after finding husband collapsed on the bathroom floor this morning in pain and sweaty with numb extremities. It was such a weird experience, paramedics and all, because I was still angry about the hiding, lying and omitting I'd caught him doing.

Before I left to drop son at school and head to the hospital to catch up with him, I grabbed a copy of Jack Kornfield's The Art of Forgiveness, Lovingkindness, and Peace just in case I couldn't muster up any compassion on my own.

The thoughts that went through my head reflected the detachment I'd made to cope with the discovery of his addict behavior. For example, I was pissed off that he can't get a life insurance policy because his health is poor. I was much more concerned about son's well being around the incident, and felt that Husband's issues would play out however they did and there was little I could do about it. I was ready for anything in a cool, detached way.

But I realized as I was driving to the hospital that I was husband's only person to turn to in life, and given who he's been for me in many good ways, that he's the father of my son, that he was a human being in a scary crisis, he deserved basic care and compassion, so I did my best to bring that forward today.

Husband did put $110 back into the bank account Tuesday. Was it really at work? Did he spend it and borrow that money from someone so he could continue his deception? I'll never know.

And that's part of where the learning is. How do I take care of myself without creating boundaries that are simply masked attempts to control his behavior? How do I handle his imperfection? How will I know when to cut bait? What is trust? What is faith? What is love? Can I learn to turn something over to Higher Power rather than trying to handle, fix, solve and control the outcome by myself? Can I surrender to the unknowability of life without sinking into an unhealthy relationship?

Anyone can lie. There is no way to protect myself from that completely. This much I know. So then what? What is there left to do? Learn to set boundaries, learn to trust myself, learn to distinguish willingness and imperfection from denial and indulgence, be willing to make the hard choices...

I feel like there have to be consequences, but I also feel like those consequences need to come from a place of authentically trying to protect and take care of myself, and not to punish or control him. What that will look like I'm still sorting out.

His health emergency doesn't overshadow what still needs to be dealt with between us. Compassion and care feel appropriate here, but so does accountability, and so does protecting myself. This recent incident has reminded me that even though he's willing and working his program, slips and all, he's still an addict and I need to protect myself from that aspect of his personality in the good times as well as the bad.

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.

Feeling peace

In couples therapy this weekend we talked a lot about my feelings of doubt. About my wish that there was some way to be sure I could count on somebody not to betray me. About my concern that I was returning to my old feelings about the untrustworthiness of men that I was left with after I found out that Dad was lying to us.

I was trying to get to the learning that is there for me. The lesson seems to be that no matter what, ultimately you can't trust anyone. But I don't see the growth in that lesson. And I do have girlfriends I can trust - who I feel like I "know" in the same deep way I was sure I knew Husband.

In our session I realized that I so reflexively take on responsibility for the way Husband feels that I don't have an instant to see what actually happened. And I'm such an absolutist that I judge myself a bad person when somebody important to me is upset because in my word view good people don't do things that make those they love angry or hurt. If somebody around me is mad in reaction to something I've done, I look at myself to see what went wrong, instead of letting them be responsible for their feelings and simply looking to see where I can take responsibility for my actions.

We learned the tool of checking with each other about our "paranoid fantasies," the often catastrophic things we make up that may be true, or may be completely off base.

We talked about whether or not I could accept people as flawed, as doing the best they could. And the fact that in Husband's addict mind what he was doing, although it impacted me, wasn't directed at me and wasn't really connected with me. Those are things I can get my mind around most of the time. But the self doubt is still there. The struggle with trusting myself, which didn't work out so well before.

I think the fact that I was able to share and have validated so much of what I have been feeling has given me a sense of peace this week. Husband heard me. He expressed the fear he feels when he hears me talk about considering what it would be like to leave, or to be with someone else. But, as I tell him, I don't really want those things...I just turn them over in my mind like stones to see if they feel like more appropriate paths...but they don't.

Maybe the growth is in compassion, forgiveness, letting go of the way I think things should be, wish they were. Letting go of that desire for a different past. In coming to terms with the unknowability of our existence. In accepting that Husband is human, and acknowledging that he was truly doing the best he could at the time with the tools and coping skills he had. And in being with him in the present where he is also doing the best he can, now in the clarity afforded him by his recovery work. I will lean toward these lessons, and away from fear and mistrust.

But even tonight as I was wrapping my arms around Husband, breathing in his scent as he played the piano, that cold sliver of fear passed through my heart for an instant. I wondered how many other times I'd breathed him in that deeply, filled myself with his presence, allowed myself to be intoxicated by my love for him, while he was lying and leading that secret life.

This will be the dance for a while, I guess. The dance between fear and forgiveness, between love and mistrust, between joy and anger. Until I can get free of the mindset of duality, and accept everything as existing at once and be at peace with that.