Group therapy

Prior to my adventures as the partner of a sex addict, I'd never been to any kind of therapy. I thought it was something that everybody should have the opportunity to try, but I'd just never gotten around to it.

Now, life is a therapy buffet. The latest dish I'm sampling is a therapy group for partners of sex addicts. It differs from S-Anon meetings in that it's moderated by a therapist who specializes in sex addiction, and discussion and response (although not advice-giving) are encouraged.

It's a small group of women, culturally, racially, economically similar, but different in our individual stories. It feels like going at it from this different angle may allow me to access some things I've been trying to get to.

We'll be studying the book Mending the Shattered Heart, which I haven't yet read.

Nude scenes

Was watching a bit of the movie 21 Grams last night, and Husband happened to come in during a scene in which Naomi Watts was naked. This was the first time I'd seen on-screen female nudity in Husband's presence since finding out about his addiction. It made me so uncomfortable that I got up and left the room.

I wasn't sure what to do. Husband seems to be conscious about staying away from imagery that triggers him. The scene was depressing, and Watts' nudity had nothing to do with the sexual fantasyland of porn and prostitution. We both love movies. Do I expect him never to watch another narrative or documentary movie with contextal nudity? I don't know.

I know I'm uncomfortable with imagery in "men's" magazines, and sex fantasy based advertising of any kind (unfortunately so prevalent in our culture.) I know I don't like to watch Mad Men with him - the betrayal played out evokes too many painful thoughts for me.

But contextual nudity? I guess it depends partly on whether or not he feels triggered by it. Clearly an area where we both need to come to an agreement on what the boundaries are.

A relationship between hatred and fear

Sometimes I hate my husband. But if I explore that feeling at all I can readily identify that feeling as a form of fear.

I'm afraid of how vulnerable I feel. I'm afraid of feeling his resentment and contempt. I'm afraid of the power it feels like they have to negate me.

If I felt his resentment and contempt all the time I'd leave. I feel like I could close the door on him if I had to, to protect myself. I don't want to be with someone who doesn't love and cherish and respect me. So I'm not afraid in the sense that I'll have to endure something so painful to be with somebody. If it was like that, I'd choose to be alone.

So what am I afraid of?

I think I'm afraid of the pain of being written off, relegated to some lesser status, cast aside as unworthy of even an argument by someone I love. I'm afraid of those moments before I can get to the door to slam it shut.

I'm also afraid that he won't be honest. That he'll build up all this resentment and disappointment again without letting me know, without acknowledging it when I ask, and then one day I'll find myself living with a stranger and that will be that for me. My life will be completely changed, missing something so important to me, without me ever having had the chance to have my say.

I'm afraid because I feel powerless. Not in my whole life. But powerless like something that I don't have have control over is going to happen and break my heart, leave me alone, fool me, ruin me. I guess it's no surprise that I have that fear.

Given that is going to happen again, because things I don't have control over are going to happen, I suppose the most relevant question is what do I have control over?

I have control over how I respond when I am broken, alone, fooled and ruined.

I know that. So what am I afraid of?

I'm afraid of the pain of being resented, disappointing, being regarded with contempt by someone I hold dear. Invalidated by someone I value so much. I know I can survive it, but I'm afraid of feeling that pain...that burning, searing, ripping pain...the pain of those moments before I can shut the door. That's all I can seem to figure out at the moment.

How things are different, and what I'm planning for the next year

Husband was playing the piano today. A variety of songs, among them Kermit the Frog's "Rainbow Connection." Suddenly he turned to me and said that he wanted me to know that he thinks about how deeply he's hurt me and how he's screwed up so badly all the time. "I really love you," he said.

That was something I used to know, like the air I breathe. But I realized that I was surprised by that. I think I have a fear that Husband is so damaged that he can't love me the way I thought he did. And I think I still hold in my mind that he had to be so angry and resentful toward me to do the things he did, which I've been told by him and by therapists isn't the case. But the deep parts of me that were hurt are still protecting themselves, protecting me. Instead of assuming the depth of his love, I now assume that I could be hurt, I could be surprised by something I could never imagine at any turn.

So that's a way things are different than they used to be. I hope I can get back to being connected to how deeply he feels for me, and when I finally feel like I can do that, I hope he still does.

Since I just celebrated an anniversary of sorts, I've been thinking about what I want this year to be about, and I've decided that I want it to be my year of self definition.

I'm going to establish myself as distinct from the opinions and reactions of others, and learn to love and know myself as fundamentally okay, whether or not others like me, are disappointed, angry, resentful, hurt, aggressive, disapproving, etc.

I'm going to create and define my self and build a solid relationship with what I create such that I am my own harbor in a storm. I'm going to grow my sense of self such that it can't be destroyed by anyone else. That's my agenda for this year.

Last day of work

Today was my last day of work. I worked until almost 9pm and will probably do a bit more over the weekend so everything is wrapped up properly.

I also had a job interview today, and I think I may have gotten the job, but it feels too soon. I haven't even decided what I really want to do next.

I'm exhausted, stressed out, having a large drink right now. Too tired to get on the treadmill to work out all this anxiety.

Husband is being very supportive, encouraging me to take time and figure out what will make me happy.

This is another re-presencing, albeit a less painful one, to the unknown. I don't know what the future holds, and that makes me nervous. But I'm going to try to take what I've learned this past year and apply it generously to the affected areas, rinse, and repeat again if necessary.

I wonder why I'm getting this lesson again.

Is it possible I'm coming to not regret the past?

Reading Pema Chodron's Wisdom of No Escape this morning, I realized that, while sounding trite, it's also true that those with the greatest challenges have the greatest opportunities.

I once visited a Tarot card reader who told me that this life was my R&R life. And, if you don't count my father lying about being sick and then running off to a commune when I was 12, that's pretty much been true.

I haven't had great fame or fortune, but I am lucky enough to have been born in the US at a time when life for the average American is easy relative to the lives of the rest of the world's population; I've always felt loved by my family and friends; I have a wonderful son and a husband who loves us and is committed to us; I've never wanted for any necessities in life; I've had the opportunity to get a good education and find good jobs; and I've had the luxury of thinking about life in terms of optimal self-realization and self-expression rather than survival. I've been lucky.

Maybe the ultimate luck is that I found a loving partner who has also, as a part of his own journey, presented me with my biggest opportunity for growth by delivering the biggest challenge of my life.

I never knew, and would likely never have known had I stayed on the same trajectory, that I was almost entirely without self-definition. I could describe myself certainly, my flaws, my qualities, my dreams and aspirations, my way of being in the world, the person I was striving to be. But as for identifying a core "self" that I defined as valid and worthy on its own, a self which could not be dictated or shattered by the responses of others...This was a distinction I didn't know I didn't have.

I am grateful to be on this journey, grateful for new perspective, new tools, a new relationship to spirituality and surrender. And while I don't always recognize it in the moment, I'm grateful for the pain that has taught me the non-dualistic nature of pain: The great opportunity that is only available with the greatest challenge.

Kung Fu Panda as it relates to addcition, betrayal and recovery

"One often meets one's destiny on the road one takes to avoid it." - Oogway
(from a French proverb, also quoted in Keep It Simple: Daily Meditations for Twelve-Step Beginnings and Renewal)

Following the major betrayal by my father when I was 12, I spent a good part of my life after that working to protect myself from experiencing that kind of pain and betrayal again. I was sure I'd found an impenetrable fortress against that in my relationship with Husband. Of course, as it turned out, my destiny followed me right in to my carefully constructed fortress.

My destiny as I see it was not to suffer pain and betrayal, but to discover my own self and my own strength. I am finally beginning to do these things in a very fundamental way that I've never in my life done before.

"There is no charge for awesomeness...or attractiveness." - Po

To me this is about acknowledging the unique expression of the divine that I am, and allowing myself to be that right now, with no reason or purpose other than because that is who I already am.

Big leap!

Last night Husband got upset that I told him I'd be there in a minute when he asked me to come look at something he was doing on the computer, and then stayed at my computer instead of coming when I said he would.

He was on his computer about 10 feet away from me at the dining room table on my laptop. I was deep in thought when he'd asked, "Got a minute?" and I should have said, "No, I don't. I'm busy right now and I don't know when I'll be done." But I didn't want to do that. I knew he didn't want to hear that, and I didn't want to say no to him. Lesson learned. I don't have to be available when someone wants me.

He said, "When you do that what I make up about that is that you don't give a shit. And not only that, it feels like what I've said is so unimportant that not only do you come when you said you would, you don't even acknowledge it; you don't even bother to say that you won't be doing that. You don't say, "I thought I'd be done, but I'm not so I won't be there."

"Here's my request," he said. "When you aren't going to do what you say you're going to do, would you say so?"

I looked at him, thinking that something didn't feel right about this whole thing. True, I didn't do what I said I was going to do. I didn't come when I said I would. But he was sitting 10 feet from me, and if he had a problem, if his feelings were hurt, as a grown up adult wasn't it HIS RESPONSIBILITY to let me know? Yes! That felt right! Part of my mind wanted so much to cling to his words, to accept the shame of not having done what I said I would do and to vow to be a good girl and never do that again. But this new part of my mind held me back.

"No," I said. He looked at me, incredulous. "No? No? You don't accept my request?" Then he said something that struck me as odd. "What are you thinking? My paranoid fantasy is that you're thinking that if you don't do exactly what I say you think I'm going to act out." That was the farthest thing from my mind at the moment.

I explained to him that what I was thinking was if he'd made all that up in his head instead of saying something directly to me, who was sitting in the same room 10 feet away, that I wasn't going to be responsible for that. I told him I wasn't going to be responsible for and responsive to the stories he makes up in his mind in lieu of expressing his feelings.

The good thing is that in addition to being an addict and an asshole at times, he's also smart. So he got it pretty quickly. After a few minutes of mulling it over, he apologized and thanked me for my patience. That felt weird to me, because it wasn't important to me that he decided I was right.

What was important was that I'd recognized what was my responsibility and what was his responsibilty, and I'd refused to be responsible for what was his. It was something that my work over the last year made possible. I was surprised by what I'd done. It felt new. And I felt strong, and I felt grateful.

Getting others to do what you want

I've just read something I want to remember. In MPJ's post about the difficulty of changing behavior, she discusses the mistaken assumption that "making people realize just how poorly they've done or how much they've hurt people is an excellent way to provide that needed motivation, be it in the form of shame, guilt or even empathy."

Something for me to remember when I feel that need to have husband get how much he's hurt me.

On the benefits of staying

Tonight I was looking for files on an old computer and I came across a picture of Husband that I absolutely love. He's wearing his Superman t-shirt, standing on a stage and singing passionately into a mic. For me that picture has always been an expression something beautiful. He's in the moment, doing something he loves, an expression of his true self.

Then I realized the picture was dated November 8, 2003, just a couple weeks or so before he first had intercourse with a prostitute.

So now that picture is different for me. It represents a time in my life when I didn't know what was real. A time in his life when he was lost and unhappy. He wasn't superman. He was just a man. A man who was hiding a lot from everbody, including himself. I wanted to bring it up with him, ask him if he remembers that evening, what he was thinking and feeling that night and how it all lead to finding another woman to have sex with.

And then I caught myself. I realized that I was going down that path of trying to figure out why, when there is no good answer. Just as Husband will probably never fully understand how I've felt in the wake of his betrayal, I'll probably never understand what was going on with him such that it made sense to him do what he did.

Ahh, yes...non-duality. The shadow and the light in the same instant. Love and betrayal don't obliterate each other even though it seems to me that they would.

I wonder how many more times I'll start down this path over coming years. Will my mind ever stop asking that question?

Living with things that I don't understand and that don't make sense to me in my relationship with Husband is new, but it's something I'll have to accept to move forward. Not lies, not secrets, but the unknowable and unanswerable.

While the unexpected look back has brought up painful feelings, it's nothing compared to the searing rawness I felt in the first few months when I looked back and no longer felt anchored in any type of reality. Now, the pain of looking back is mitigated by the strength and insight I've gained while entertaining the notion of non-duality and learning how to stay present in the face of pain and impermanence.