Blogland

I blog for mostly selfish reasons. I like feeling a connection to people who understand my pain, and I like having an outlet that is disconnected from my immediate social and family circle. I blog to help myself, and I don't know that I do a whole lot of helping others with this space. There are so many wonderful writers who do the helping much better than me. I'm OK with that because I just really don't have any advice. I'm still in it. In the muck and the confusion and the hurt. I don't have answers, just experiences. My recovery moves at a snail's pace.

For so long, this blog has been exactly what I needed. It has provided with me an amazing sense of peace in some very dark times. I've been able to work through difficult memories and receive support when I needed it the most.

But like everything in life, things change. And I'm not sure this blog is helping me anymore. When I started this blog, I thought that I would be writing the story of a woman who divorced a sex addict because he wouldn't seek help. But as it turns out, I am now in the situation where I am still married, and the man I am married to is purposefully and diligently changing his life for the better. Along with him, I am also changing my life for the better.

Lately, I've felt like blogging has been a way for me to continue to isolate myself from real connection. There are a lot of things I write here that I don't tell Husband. I still don't feel safe in being vulnerable with him, but I started working with a new therapist, and I joined a women's trauma support group. I am making connections in my new city. But perhaps the most important reason to not isolate myself is that husband is trying so hard to be a good husband. I don't know if it will ever be enough. But I feel the urge to engage a bit in my real-life marriage and take a break from thinking through it on my blog.

So I might take a break here. I'll probably come back. I might even come back soon. I don't want to obligate myself to anything. I like to avoid that now as much as possible.

So for now, I'm going to go live a bit. I'll let you know how it goes.

Revenge Might Be a Little Sweet

Our history as a couple has involved a lot of Husband screwing up responsibilities and a lot of me being angry.

This morning, though, I screwed up responsibilities. I was sitting with Child in my lap, slowly waking up. I decided to check my planner for the day, since I have some serious memory problems. And to my surprise, I realized that I had a meeting in about 20 minutes. So I rushed into the shower, told Husband that he needed to take Child to school, and left Husband to finish getting Child ready. Husband ended up late to work because of my memory lapse.

And, moment of honesty. I didn't feel bad about my screw up. I didn't feel bad that I made Husband late for work. I had a lot of revenge thoughts in my mind. "Now he knows what this feels like. Serves him right after screwing up so much in the past. He deserves to know how this feels." I was a little bit pleased with myself at my mistake. Revenge was feeling pretty dang sweet.

But then, I got home from work. And Husband expressed some hurt feelings over the way I handled my screw up. Because I may or may not have joked (also known as a hidden criticism) as I was walking out the door about how Well, now you know what my life feels like everyday. Haha. 

Seeing his hurt feelings made revenge no longer feel so sweet. I got caught up in my self-righteousness, and I purposely said something knowing that it would hurt where my husband is most vulnerable.

I had to set some new boundaries earlier this week about finances that will protect me and Child better, and I think I got a little carried away with my problem of feeling as though I am inherently "better" than Husband.

I apologized, he said really nice things, and all is well tonight. And I feel a little more humble.

A Year After The Divorce Papers

February 2013

The lawyer called and said she had all the paperwork filed. I called my friend, and she agreed to watch our child so that I could deliver the news. He knew something was up. I had talked divorce many times before, it seemed like the only way to escape the pain. The pain burned my broken heart, and the newfound freedom from separation led me to believe that a divorce would be an instant healer. Separating was supposed to be a time for me to get help and for him to get help, but I just wanted it to be done. For me, the pain was like searing flames, burning my energy, my hope, my goodness. I wanted to give him my burns. See him suffer in the heat, and feel the fire of my pain. I wanted nothing more than for him to burn, alone.

But as I sat and waited for him to arrive, the desire to see him suffer and burn started to fade. Wait, don't fade! Keep the fire alive so that I can carry through with this! I'm fading! Just when I'm about to give the pain back to him, I'm fading...

By the time he arrived, I was a heaping mess in my room, well on my way to delirium from the cocktails I had consumed to try to salvage my fire. I blurted it all out. "I hate you. I don't want to be married to you. I want nothing more than to see you suffer for the pain you have caused. I want to never see you again and for you to live alone for the rest of your life, spending your days wishing you hadn't done these horrible things to ruin our family."

"But I can't do it. I'm so weak. I don't know why I can't go through with it. I don't have any backbone. Any self-respecting woman would have left you long ago. I hate you, and I hate myself for not being strong enough to leave you."

Husband said that he was so sorry. He is working as hard as he can to change his life. He is going to be the husband I deserve. He wishes he could take it all back. He hates himself for what he's done. I never deserved it.

And I thought bullshit and told him to get out of my house. I poured more cocktails and passed out on my bedroom floor.

February 2014

I remember the pain so well, a year ago today. I see my brokenness on that day from a new perspective. I can look back and see the emptiness that filled me. The longing for a relationship with God. The longing to feel loved by someone, anyone. The desperation in my voice as I spewed hateful words towards my husband and myself.

And I am so glad that I am not in the same place I was a year ago.

Filling The Void

I stopped at the grocery store on the way to pick up Child and bought three candy bars. And then I ate them in the car. Last week, I stopped on the way to work and picked up donuts. And then I ate them in the car. I started a bath last week and relaxed with a warm bath and chocolate.

Why? Why? Why?

My eating habits are directly and predictably related to my moods. I still have a really, really hard time recognizing two emotions. Sad, I've got that one down. Angry and lonely? Not so much.

I try to give it over to God. Here, God, take my emotional eating. I don't want it anymore. It never helps me. It only makes things worse. I get so convinced in my prayers that this is it. I know that I use food to fill the void. I feel a deep pit of lonely that I fill with food. I feel a deep rage that gets stuffed down with food. I know that I do this.

But each time, I take it back. I give over my emotional eating and then I take it back. Because I just need some chocolate. You know, to calm down, to ease the pain.

I miss my friends from where I used to live. I've had a hard time making new friends in my new city. I want mom-friends, but all of the mom groups at church and otherwise are typically only for moms who do not work outside the home and can meet at 10:00 AM on a weekday. I need working mom friends, like I had where I lived previously. Who like to set up play dates at 6:00 PM on weeknights. So I'm lonely, but the effort that would be required to get unlonely seems daunting.

I'm angry. So angry. Every two weeks, despite my very best intentions of giving over finances to God and setting the very best boundaries I can, I get angry. Because my husband overdrafts his account and gets non-sufficient funds notices. It does not affect me directly because of my boundaries. But it does mean that Husband doesn't contribute his fair share to our household finances. But setting yet another boundary is so much work.

No wonder I like to read books for addict. I'm pretty sure you could replace food with porn and that story above would read like a sex addict. I'm justifying my behavior by how I've been wronged. And I have been wronged, but food is not the answer. And I know that. But I continue the behavior.

I think I could learn a thing or two from a recovering addict.

Am I Real?

I wrote a guest post on my cousin's blog. She was interested in having me write a post, sort of a "day in the life" post. If anyone is reading this right now, you are probably chuckling. Because, let's be honest, jaws would drop if I wrote under my real name about what life was really like for me on a daily basis.

We'll let's see...usually my husband isn't at home in the evenings because he's a 12-step meetings. There's a whole lot of talk about sex and recovery and lying and betrayal and sponsees and serenity prayers. Sometimes I get freaked out because I have flashbacks of when he had sex with other people, but then I remember that this wasn't about my worth as a wife. There's awkward therapy dialogue and talk of our Higher Power and LOTS of new ways of interacting with our son to bust through the feelings of shame and worthlessness we brought into our marriage. We want our son to know his worth in this world, to know that it's OK to fail, and to know that unconditional love comes from a loving and merciful God.

Nope, I didn't write any of that. I talked about how before I had my son, I kind of thought I knew everything there was to know about parenting because of my career. And then, after I had my son, I realized that I really didn't know much at all. It was a rather lighthearted post, intended to make fun of myself a little and hopefully let other mothers know that we're all just flying by the seat of our pants here, even the most "trained" person is still going to be flustered as a parent sometimes.

People seemed to like the post. Someone commented that she loved how I was keeping it real. And I'm glad that people liked it. But to me, it felt pretty far from keeping it real. What people don't know is that the only reason that I was able to write a post like that where I admitted that I too struggle as a parent is because I've spent the last two plus years in therapy, I've been treated for depression and anxiety, and I understand now that I receive unconditional love from my Higher Power. But I left all those parts out of my lighthearted post and so to me, it felt a bit fake even though everything I wrote was true.

I'm glad that I can be really real all the way here, on my anonymous blog. Sometimes I just want to shout my real story from the rooftops. Because to me it's a miracle that I could be happier now than I was before I found out that my husband was an adulterous liar. But it's true. I am happier and healthier, and I know for sure that God is working through me. I have come to believe over the last year or so that I do have a loving Higher Power who shows unconditional love and mercy to me even in my brokenness.

Someday, I know that I will share my real story in a more public way. I feel it. I think that when the time is right, I will know.

I'm Different

I attended a 12-step conference last weekend. It was so powerful, and I learned so many new things. In order to reflect on what I've learned, I'm going to write it here in a few posts. See here and here for other posts about the conference.

One of the many blessings of being at the SANON conference last week was that I got to reconnect with many of the wonderful women who helped me survive during the months after D-Day. There were many hugs, long conversations, and plenty of tears.

Toward the end of the second night, when my emotions were raw and my brain was tired, I noticed my first sponsor sitting at a table nearby. And as I thought about our relationship, I became very emotional. It was in a conversation with her over a year ago that I realized that my situation was unacceptable. The words she used and the kindness she showed helped me to realize that I was worth more than how I was being treated by my husband. It was a changing moment for me, to realize that I had the power to stand up against unacceptable behavior and that it was OK for me to express my needs. To say what I mean, and mean what I say. To be firm in my convictions even if I upset Husband.

I knew when I saw her that I needed to thank her. I needed to let her know that her words and her kindness had a profound impact on my life. So after some tears and hugs and many thank yous from me, she said, simply "Eleanor, you look great."

I do look great. And I don't mean physically attractive. I'm sure she didn't mean physically attractive. She meant that I look strong. Standing by my choices and defending my right to live a healthy life. I have by no means conquered all of my demons, far from it. And I absolutely still have too many days where I waste time ruminating about the past and about things over which I have no control.

But I'm different than I was two years ago.

I Don't Have Control

I just returned from a 12-step conference. It was so powerful, and I learned so many new things. In order to reflect on what I've learned, I'm going to write it here in a few posts. Also see this post.

I mean, of course I don't have control, right? That's like, recovery 101. I can't control the addict. I didn't cause it, I can't control it, and I can't cure it. But I continue to be amazed at the more subtle ways I try to remain in control.

I realized this weekend that forgiveness for me is connected to control. I haven't written much about forgiveness on my blog, and the reason is simply that I hadn't done it. I hadn't forgiven my husband for his infidelity. And I didn't really know why until this weekend. Sure I had heard that forgiveness is healing for the person who was betrayed, forgiveness is really about not letting the past define you, forgiving doesn't mean you have to condone the behavior, and all the other phrases we throw around about forgiveness.

But I believed that if I forgave Husband, he would be tempted to act out again. And for me, there were many things wrong with that thought process.

First, I have absolutely no control over whether or not Husband is unfaithful again. Absolutely no control. And I was stopping myself from forgiving, something that was likely to bring me a lot of freedom from bitterness, because I thought it would make him act out. Second, although this was more of an unconscious rather than a conscious thought, I felt safe in my unforgiving state. I thought that I had some level of power over Husband by not forgiving. Like he would continue to "owe" me.

What really got me thinking about this was actually a comment that had to do with sexual intimacy. Someone asked, "How do I manage the fear I have that if I am sexual with Husband, it will trigger him to act out?" And another person responded simply, "Stop caring. His triggers are not yours to manage."

Somehow, that statement is what clicked for me. I can forgive my husband because I feel forgiveness in my heart. I have absolutely no control over what he does as a consequence of that forgiveness. So on Sunday, I formally forgave my husband. And for me, that means that I will no longer live in the past. I will not continually punish him for his past behavior. I will move forward. It doesn't mean that I condone what he did, that I will forget it, that I will let my boundaries go, or even that our relationship can be restored. It also doesn't necessarily mean that Husband has earned my forgiveness.

It simply means that I choose not to live in bitterness and resentment. I choose joy.