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.

What I learned from Facebook

I think this talk by Facebook COO Sheryl Sandberg speaks to some of the issues faced by women in their personal lives, as well as in their professional lives:

So how do you cultivate self esteem?

On the Pat Morrison radio show yesterday, Rabbi Harold Kushner said "I would make a distinction between curing, making a problem go away, and healing, which is giving a person the emotional, spiritual resources to cope with a problem that isn't going away."

I think this is an insightful way to describe the process I've been going through since I discovered Husband's sex addiction.

There is no making my past go away. But I've been gaining the emotional, spiritual,and psychological resources to cope with the reality of life. I've been healing.

One area that remains unclear for me is building my self esteem. In June 2008 I declared a Year of Self Definition and yet 16 months later I still feel a bit stumped about how to cultivate a strong relationship with myself.

I have glimmers of it. I've gained a lot of tools and insight from therapy, support groups and reading. But I also have a lot of persistent patterns that originate in self-loathing.

I felt a flash of clarity in the reading I did today in Pema Chodron's The Wisdom of No Escape. In the chapter called Satisfaction she said that "one of the major obstacles to what is traditionally called enlightenment is resentment, feeling cheated, holding a grudge about who you are, where you are, what you are."

This passage really caught my eye because I recognized myself in it, and I began to start thinking about how I could re-orient my thinking and feeling about what I lack and focus instead on everything I have, everything I am. Gratitude for my life, and loving-kindness toward myself.

How would I treat myself, regard myself, be with myself if I were someone I loved? Certainly much different than I do now. I think exploring this question is on the path of developing / creating a relationship with myself that supports health and peace.

A chance to practice, or how recovery can seep into other areas of life

Mark Twain once described a man who died and met St. Peter at the Pearly Gates. He said, “I have been interested in military history for many years, who was the greatest general of all time?”

Saint Peter responded, “Oh that’s a simple question. It’s that man right over there.”

“You must be mistaken,” responded the man, now very perplexed. “I knew that man on earth, and he was just a common laborer.”

“That’s right my friend,” assured Saint Peter. “He would have been the greatest general of all time, if he had been a general.”

This story illustrates a truth that is, unfortunately, all too common. Far too many people spend a lifetime headed in the wrong direction. They go not only from the cradle to the cubicle, but then to the casket, without uncovering their greatest talents and potential." - (T.Rath, Strength Finder 2.0 (Gallup Press, 2007) 29.)

I had a long talk today with a colleague about my professional future. As in many areas of my life, I'm learning that I find it incredibly hard to value myself. I don't naturally or easily give value to anything I bring to the table. Which makes committing to consulting full-time very frightening. (Sadly, I can take on creating my professional "story" much more easily as a task or assignment from my colleague than I can as a simple, honest self-assessment of my skills, talents and abilities.) Not that I don't want to have a career as a consultant, but I'm afraid that I'm somehow unqualified and unworthy of the rate I ask for my services, and that people will discover this.

But, because of the growth I've had this past year, I recognize that fear now as something to lean toward. Part of the reason I know I need to take this on is because it makes me nervous and uncomfortable.

So I'm raising a bowl of Ben & Jerry's to my Year of Self Definition, and committing to doing everything I can to succeed at this in spite of all the self-doubt that's plaguing me right now.

If it weren't for what I've learned about myself in therapy, and the reading I've done, and the spiritual growth I've had, I think I'd miss this opportunity.

This is my chance to practice acknowledging and accepting myself, all that I am. It's my chance to focus on my strengths instead of feeling guilty and unworthy because of my weaknesses; to take joy in what is there, rather than to suffer over what I perceive as missing. It's my chance to let myself be enough, even though I'm not everything...even though I'm not perfect.

I'm scared, but it's my Year of Self Definition, right? And I've learned that I can lean into the fear and be okay.