Questioning Karma

It may not seem like it here, but I am a reasonably optimistic person. My glass is more than half full. I have said on more than one occasion that karma would sort stuff out, so I need not worry over it. Generally it worked well for me (or for my little slice of the universe).

OW #1- Husband divorced her.

OW#2 – Husband became incapacitated so now she has to care for him 24/7 on welfare.

OW#3 – Repeatedly arrested and occasionally homeless.

It goes on and on. Karma.

And yet my own fate/ luck these last few months has been utterly awful. Or has it??

Shortly after I last posted, Handsome and my 16 yo (who was driving on her learner’s permit) were in a terrible car accident. I had to drive to the accident scene and there were 3 ambulances and two fire trucks there. Car was totaled. The car she hit was totaled. Daughter black and blue head to toe. Handsome has a lumbar fracture. Awful scene.

Then, my 90 yo mom passed away last week. She was in 3 facilities over 2 months, but was discharged to come home the day before her birthday. Six days later she had to return to the hospital with a pneumonia that killed her shortly thereafter. She was fully alert till her last breath and I was with her, holding her hand.

I really started wondering who I wronged in the universe for all these awful things to happen. Who did I wrong or betray? Was I selfish or greedy or just a general jackass? Why?

And then I took a deep breath and tried to step outside myself for just a minute. Yes, these things were all terrible and sad and stressful. (So very stressful.) And yet… there is also unquestionably good fortune in each.

My husband and daughter are alive. They can walk. Not everyone walks away from an accident like they had, but they did. Yes, Handsome is injured but he can and hopefully will heal. The car is replaceable. They are not.

I’m so very sad about my mom. She lived with me for the last 6 years. I saw her every day. I’m really missing her. But she had a good, fulfilling, long life and was in reasonably good health and had all her faculties up until the very last minute. I had her for 53 years. I know how lucky I am. Yes, she died and it hurts and I’m crushed, but I was so very fortunate to have her for my mom and to have her for as long as I did.

Maybe my karma was the good kind after all.

Memories (or lack thereof)

I’ve been pretty silent here as of late. It’s been a bit of mayhem but not, thankfully, anything having to do with Handsome’s SA. Nope. Just regular life nuttiness.

Our daughter fractured her spine at a school event in May. It was a terrible injury, but she is wrapping up PT next month and is healed enough to go back to sports. We are very, very lucky.

Despite being fully vaxxed, my mom and I both had bouts of Covid. Mine was quite bad. Paxlovid helped, but I was utterly exhausted for close to half of the summer. (Brother-in-law’s new GF did not appear on my vacation, so that was good.)

Then we had bats in our house. INSIDE the house in the living space. My son and I ended up going through the full protocol of rabies shots. He needed them because a bat was in his room while he was asleep. I got them because I didn’t want him to go through it alone. (I admit that I’m feeling like a shoe-in for mom of the year for that one.)

And here we are with the holidays. Time flies. I turned 53 a few weeks ago. I have a very good memory. Handsome used to as well, but not any longer. He turns 60 in a few weeks and is vibrant and healthy.

The kids and I have noticed though that his memory seems to be failing. I’m not talking about misplacing keys or a wallet. Yesterday, he couldn’t remember that I had Covid. Or that we traveled to Washington DC once I was out of quarantine. Readers, those things happened in June.

He has had disassociative periods in the past and I wondered if that was going on, but I don’t think so. This seems… more alarming (scary? serious? real?). It’s so strange. He functions just fine 98% of the time, but then something comes up and he absolutely cannot remember it. Even when prompted he only occasionally manages any recall. More often he tries to laugh off the fact that he can’t remember. I’m not laughing. I’m terrified.

He has an appointment with a cognitive neurologist in early January. Getting that appointment was quite difficult and he made the appointment himself. He doesn’t remember that.

Could this be caused by any one or more of the numerous meds that he takes every day? Yes. Could it be related to his shift work and the related sleep disruptions? Absolutely. Those two things are both fixable, but I am gravely concerned that these are early warning signs for some form of dementia.

I know it’s “fortune telling” -and uncharitable- but I’m also angry. Fear may be the underlying emotion, but I am angry too. Why? I’m angry that so many of what should have been great years were affected by Handsome’s SA and other issues. And we may now lose out on the retirement I had held out in front of me like a carrot for the last few years. I’ve watched loved ones suffer from dementia. Life becomes very small, not to mention exhausting.

We’ve had such a good year together. This just feels unfair. 💔

A Different Kind of Trigger

My relationship with my in-laws is complicated. For the most part they welcomed me and have been kind. We’ve had some moments, but mostly with my FIL and mostly once my MIL passed and he lost his filter and I started to see the veneer peeling back on the family picture. I harbor resentment though at the trauma their alcoholism inflicted on my husband and their abject denial of same to the present. They image-managed the heck out of their lives before I married their son. That’s a little like spitting in my scrambled eggs and trying to sell it to me as a soufflé.

I’ve written before about Handsome’s Complex PTSD. While a good bit of the genesis of his CPTSD stems from his job, an equal if not greater part stems from growing up with two functionally alcoholic parents.

My MIL was already quite ill with emphysema when I met her, but she was still mobile and somewhat self-sufficient. I saw her drink, but only at dinner and usually just one cocktail. My FIL has been sober for years and, if anything, is probably now only addicted to AA. And cigarettes. And being a controlling ass. I have often thanked heaven for the 10 hours of distance between our homes.

I was at their house one day and looking for a sheet pan in the kitchen. I opened a cabinet and out spilled several fifths of vodka. My MIL wasn’t driving at the time so that means my FIL was facilitating whatever drinking she was doing. On another occasion I picked up her 24oz water bottle to wash it. To my dismay, it was filled with vodka, not water. That was about 6 months before she died.

My MIL’s death unmoored my husband. I’ve written before about how he disassociated during her funeral to the point that he convinced himself that I wasn’t there. Then he used the resentment from me not being there to “justify” his acting out. (“My wife doesn’t love me. She couldn’t even be bothered to come to my mother’s funeral.”) The fact that I moved heaven and earth to be present and that I was there, standing beside him and holding his hand, was just lost in the recesses of his mind and replaced with resentment. All of his major acting out rolled forward from there.

Now, as I write this, my FIL is in failing health. It seems unlikely that he’ll see Christmas this year, and next to impossible to believe he’ll last a year. I can already see the toll this is taking on my husband and it’s nerve wracking.

I don’t want to make this all about me. It’s not. But my experience tells me that when the time comes and my FIL passes, my husband is going to be adrift. There will be no more parental affection to chase. No one to try endlessly to impress (to no avail). No one to be a theoretical safety net.

Handsome is not the same person he was when his mom died 8 years ago. He has experience and resources and tools to bring to bear, but the loss of a parent is no small thing. That’s particularly true when you’ve spent your life trying to connect with that parent and chasing the unconditional affection you could never exactly muster from them.

A part of me wishes that Handsome would be more angry at his dad. If not for himself, then maybe for our kids who are mostly ignored by the man. He either forgets their birthdays entirely or he remembers one child and not the other. Handsome acts as though he could care less. Maybe that’s true, but I doubt it. This is the dad whose behavior – no matter how deplorable – he excuses. The dad who told Handsome he was fat (he wasn’t) which prompted Handsome to pursue months of dieting. (FIL told my size 0 daughter the same thing during a visit. Not “wow, I’ve missed you” or “I’m so happy to see you,” but “you’ve put on a lot of weight.” Jerk.) It’s the same dad who never attended a single school event or sporting event for Handsome – even though they lived only 3 blocks from the school.

Handsome enlisted in the Marines and went into law enforcement because his dad did those things. He’s been chasing attention and approval and love from his father for decades. Getting those things from his dad has always been just out of reach. Just beyond his grasp. It’s not that Handsome hasn’t earned or deserved them. His father just has no idea how to give them freely. Once it is literally impossible to get those things from his dad, I have to wonder if the longing will stop. I suspect that it won’t.

Who needs friends like this?

When Handsome returned from Sierra Tucson he initially maintained contact with about 10 people he met in the program. As of today, almost a year later, that number has been pared to 3 or 4 guys and the contact is much less frequent than it was six months ago. I predict that a year from now it will be down to one or two contacts, if he’s lucky.

There were and are some good folks in that mix. I’ve met two in person. There was one man, however, that Handsome seemed to put a lot of stock in. I’ll call him the Dude. He was (by his account) a very successful business person with a string of ex wives and a laundry list of homes and companies. The Dude went to ST to address his alcohol abuse and other process addictions. He seemed, post rehab, to be really good at dishing out questionable advice while – from what I could glean – his own life was spiraling out of control again.

Handsome shared his anxiety about the full disclosure with this guy. I think he was actually looking for support. What the Dude said to him was, “Why don’t you just draw her a map to divorce court? That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard of. You’re an idiot if you go through with it.” With those words, the Dude ended any possibility of Handsome doing a disclosure and triggered what would turn into a months-long stand off in our already strained marriage.

Shortly after that conversation the Dude’s life blew up quite spectacularly. He and Handsome haven’t spoken since then, but the damage was already done. The Dude planted the seeds of paranoia that the CSAT and I were teaming up against Handsome, that Handsome’s Doc #2 didn’t know what he was doing, and that I was using Handsome’s guilt to try to gain a strategic advantage in the marriage for an inevitable divorce.

It was all crap, of course. As of today, 8 months later, Handsome sees that. He also sees that the Dude wasn’t someone who he should have listened to on marital or recovery advice. Lesson learned for him. He has thoughts about why he gave this guy so much credence, but in the moment he went all in on the Dude’s advice.

It’s a lesson learned for me too. Handsome is an adult with free will, but he’s also more vulnerable to the influence of other people than almost anyone else I know. He is not a “pleaser” per se but I do see that he forum shops. If Doc #2 or the CSAT tell him something he doesn’t really like he’ll float it past his somatic experiencing therapist to see if she agrees or disagrees. Fortunately, she’s onto him about that so she can and does nip it in the bud.

This forum shopping occurred all the time during the three+ years where he was acting out with affair partners during our marriage. For example, he and I agreed on getting our daughter a cell phone on her birthday. We were in full agreement and started shopping. Days later, he came back with a laundry list of reasons why we shouldn’t get her a phone and how we’d be awful parents if we did. At the time, it was just mentally exhausting. I couldn’t figure out why he kept flip flopping his positions. I didn’t know about the third person in our marriage. I now see the tremendous influence the Flame had on him and, perhaps, how she used that influence to stir the pot in our marriage.

Handsome does recognize a lot of this. It’s challenging for him though to really acknowledge how much influence others have had on him, let alone how harmful some of that influence has been on our marriage. It’s challenging for him to see that he was often given awful advice and that occasionally the people advising him had ulterior motives. Handsome is well liked but has few close friends. With friends like the Dude and the Flame though, who needs enemies?

Learning to Say No

The Way It Was

Breaking a stranglehold has been a lifesaving technique since such training first began in the late 19th century. In fact, turn-of-the century rescuers were taught to break a victim’s “death grip” by knocking the person unconscious.

I can relate. After learning from our CSAT that “there is new information that will be coming forward” from Handsome, I’ve been pondering what that means for me. Conclusion? I feel like a lifeguard that’s about to be drowned by the very person she’s trying to save.

I see very clearly now that Handsome has for years (and continues to) prioritize himself (his comfort, his fears, his needs, etc.) over me. The trauma that staggered disclosures cause for betrayed spouses is well known and, particularly, it is well known to Handsome after two intensives – including one with an expert in the field of betrayal trauma – and a ton of therapy. Yet rather than tell me the whole truth at any point along our journey, he has continued to keep secrets knowing full well the impact of his lies, secret keeping, and staggered disclosures on my health and well being.

I asked yesterday if we were going to do a check-in last night since it has been about two weeks since the last one. I just wanted to get it over with because I was already in “affair mode” from our appointment with the CSAT. He asked if we could do it another night since he was tired. Since I so very often go along to get along, I automatically replied “okay.” It wasn’t okay, however. It was, on a micro scale, just me trying to keep him happy at my own expense.

When I got home I explained that I shouldn’t have said okay because I really wasn’t okay with it, and that we’d have to put it off till next week because I do not want to deal with it on the weekend. I went on to explain that I finally concluded that I’ve got to look out for my own  interests since he has demonstrated clearly that he will not do so. I told him how incredibly disappointed (not surprised, but definitely disappointed) I am that after all this time and everything, EVERYTHING I have been through with him, he still chooses his own comfort (keeping secrets that are “too hard” to tell) over my health and mental and physical well being.  I feel as though he is the drowning victim that I swim out to save and, when I get there, he pushes me under the water so he can stand on my shoulders and breathe while I drown underneath him.

I asked him to sit and really ponder what it would be like if I, his spouse, constantly and to his detriment prioritized myself over him. I asked him to contemplate what our kids would be like, and what their lives would be like, if he and I both acted that way. Finally I asked him, when push comes to shove, what kind of husband always picks himself over his wife and family? And what does he think that must be like for me and our children, to realize that if it’s us or him it will seemingly always be him?

He admits that he has been (and is) a selfish asshole used to doing things his own way. He says he’s “working on” changing that and being less selfish and self centered. He tells me he’s trying to change that about himself. I told him to screw trying. He simply needs to do it. Immediately.

Therapeutic disclosure (DDay #3??)

Been gone for a bit. We just wrapped up the second of two long family weekends away. We had a decent time in NYC (Handsome was highly agitated all weekend, but the kids and my mom were good fun), and we just got back from the Breeder’s Cup in Louisville. That was an awesome trip. Beautiful horses, great racing, fancy hats, Derby pie, and bourbon.  Lots of bourbon. What could be better?

Before we left for NYC, our CSAT said that she thought a formal therapeutic disclosure would be a good idea for us. She has been able to see what Handsome has voluntarily disclosed versus that which I’ve had to investigate on my own. She has observed his responses to various questions about his acting out and, in particular, how certain answers just don’t make sense or seem a bit lacking. She also sees the frustration this causes me.

If you’ve been on this roller coaster with me for a while, you recall that our first DDay was December 9th last year. At that time Handsome disclosed parts of his affair with the Whore. He minimized the heck out of it, but most of the truth trickled out about their involvement once I got a chance to go through her burner phone. On February 26th, we spent hours doing what was supposed to be a full disclosure on our own. Within days it became apparent that 90% of what I had been told was absolute BS. March 3rd became our DDay #2 when I learned about his numerous other affairs and acting out behaviors. It’s also when it became obvious that Handsome has serious issues with compulsive sexual behavior. I knew then, even before he was formally diagnosed, that Handsome is a sex addict. Since that day there have been smaller disclosures, most of which I would consider to be “filler” around the broader stories of his acting out. Many of those little disclosures have been during our weekly check-ins in response to the question in his check-in format from Dr. M regarding a lie or secret he is keeping. I do believe that he has told me the majority of what he did. I also believe, however, that there are certain things that he has decided he should keep secret. Some of those things have become obvious in our therapy. I, on the other hand, believe that the absolute least he can do for me is tell me the full truth. I have always said that I don’t need the color of someone’s lingerie or who was on top, but I do need to know the totality of what I am supposed to be forgiving him for.

The CSAT sent us a template for the format of the disclosure and, frankly, I find all of the limitations “for the protection of the betrayed spouse” to be utter BS. To me, if it is supposed to be a disclosure it had better be exhaustive and thorough. A therapist or his SA folks should not know things that I do not. If he knows something and fails to disclose it to me, it’s a secret and that’s a problem for me. I really wish that everyone else, including Handsome, would accept the fact that I’m an adult and quit perpetuating secrets under the guise of “protecting” me. I find it insulting, patriarchal, offensive, and unnecessary.

I raised that point with the CSAT and also said that if all Handsome intended to do was to waltz in and tell me only what he has told me thus far, we should just skip it. I’m not going to put myself through torture so he can check off a box to say he accomplished something. If I’m going to go through this, it had better have a point. She informed me today after meeting with him privately that “there is new information that will be coming forward.” Lovely. So much for telling me 300+ times that he has told me everything. It’s a good thing I never bought that completely. (Does anyone wonder why we betrayed spouses develop trust issues that we never had before after all of this??)

Despite this development, I know that I’ve made personal progress over the last 11 months because I’m not in tears or a basket case over whatever might be forthcoming. I have assumed that he slept with everyone he says he didn’t, and then some. I have assumed that he engaged in other acting out behaviors that have yet to be disclosed. In short, I’ve already steeled myself against the worst of the possibilities. That’s not to say that the new disclosures won’t hurt me. They just won’t destroy me. He did that already, but I feel as though I’m doing a commendable job rebuilding myself in this new epoch.

Our CSAT wanted to get the disclosure scheduled and completed in December, but the holidays are upon us and I refuse to destroy another Christmas and New Year’s with new disclosures of Handsome’s acting out. I would love to start 2019 fresh, but I’m not willing to sabotage my 2018 holidays to do so. He can toil away at his part in this disclosure till the new year rolls around. Let it weigh on him for the next few weeks, not me.

Fighting for One Another

It’s been a long couple of days since we returned from our trip. Handsome and I have been civil. We pulled off a nice date night a few days ago. And yet I still had the feeling that we were both suffering, separately, and in silence lest we rock the proverbial boat.

For my part, I know that to be true. Immediately after the weekend I was simply sad about the happenings of the day and night we spent apart. It just seemed like such a wasted opportunity for us. Then, the more days that passed, I started to get ticked off. No… really pissed off… at how things turned out.

Handsome has a circle plan which, if you aren’t familiar with concept, is supposed to identify inner circle behaviors (those that are de facto relationship damaging), the middle circle behaviors (those that may lead to the inner circle and are serious enough to be addressed but which may or may not damage the relationship), and the outer circle (good behaviors used to cope in healthy ways and to help the addict avoid the inner and middle circle).  By way of example, a circle chart for a gambling addict might look like this:

As a sex addict, Handsome’s inner circle includes things like sexual contact with anyone other than me, using or viewing dating/ hook up/ massage sites, voyeurism, possessing a burner phone, etc.  His middle circle includes things like drinking alcohol, objectifying women, working excessive overtime, and unavoidable contact with any of his affair partners.  His outer circle is filled with great ideas for self-care.

When he responded to our fight by going to the hotel bar and having a few beers (thus tossing 7 months of sobriety from alcohol out the window), I was hurt. Then, I got mad. I was (am?) mad that he ran back to one of his old tricks the minute things got tough. I was mad he didn’t use a single tool at his disposal. I was mad he utterly disregarded his outer circle items. I was mad he didn’t reach out to anyone, including me, to talk him off that ledge. I was mad he felt no need to apologize for it at the time.

He talked with his therapist last week about what happened and the therapist directed him to develop a safety plan to keep in his wallet. It’s supposed to be a list of people he can call and things he can do to avoid his inner and middle circles. Sounds great, but since he threw the circle plan out the window in his time of need I’m not sure what one more piece of paper will accomplish. I know that sounds really cynical, but I can’t  articulate how stunned I was that he so readily dove back into his old behavior. The plan is worthless if he refuses to consult it and follow it when needed.

His explanation?  He says he thought it was all hopeless and that we were over. Thus, fuck it all, he’d have a beer. Why did he think it was over? Because I left our hotel. Because I told him I wouldn’t put up with the verbal nastiness. (For his part, he said the same thing to me during the fight.) To be clear, I never mentioned the word “divorce” or threatened divorce. In fact, I really don’t think that I’ve ever brought up divorce since telling him after DDay #2 that if he still loved the Flame that he should go and be with her, and explaining around that same time that I would leave and seek a divorce if his sexual acting out did not come to an immediate end. So, his rushed conclusion all these months later that we were over pisses me off. If anyone has justification to get a divorce, I certainly think I fit that category. Four affairs, years of lies, porn, bringing skanks to our home and…, and…, and…? It would surprise no one if I left, but I haven’t. I’m still here. I swore for better or for worse and this has got to be the “for worse” part, right? I’m still fighting for him and for us, and it rocked my world that he just threw in the towel at the drop of a hat.

I see Handsome’s recovery work as his way of fighting for himself. I also believe it is valuable to our entire family for him to be healthy and sober and for him to have self-esteem and confidence. When the shit hits the fan though, if he just gives up… ? After a bad but not exactly exceptional argument? I agree that the fact that we were away from home likely contributed to his excessive reaction, as did the fact that I did something different by standing up for myself and distancing myself from the situation, but c’mon… after all we’ve been through?  Is his skin really so thin?  I didn’t tap out after finding out that he was juggling all those other women and his other forms of acting out. It admittedly sounds righteously indignant, but is this the thanks I get for hanging in there? I’m angry that he didn’t care enough in that moment to fight back against his own demons for me. For us. Even for himself, for that matter.

Will we get through this?  Sure. It’s just going to take time. It’s a set back, but not an insurmountable one. We need to get back on the same page where we both feel supported and where we are fighting for each other instead of with each other.

Girl Code vs. Awkward Work Event

I saw this in the New York Times yesterday and, frankly, I’m just not sure what to make of it.

https://www.nytimes.com/2018/10/02/style/baby-shower-do-i-have-to-go.html?action=click&module=Features&pgtype=Homepage

How would I handle the situation?  I’d get a nice gift for the baby and find any reasonable excuse to be out of/ away from the office that day.

I absolutely understand why the woman who wrote the letter is uncomfortable participating in the shower. You don’t have to be a betrayed spouse to feel awkward about celebrating someone who apparently had no qualms about ripping apart a family (or at least felt no need to hide it).

Thoughts?

Updates & Tying Up Loose Ends 1.0

I enjoy shows like 20/20 or Dateline that cover true crime cases, but I’m always a bit sad if there is no conclusion or a “since this story was filmed” postscript. Thus, please accept these updates (in no particular order) to some issues raised in my previous posts:

Fire Dude & the Whore:  Having the Whore’s burner phone in my possession was like keeping a flaming coal in my pocket. It’s mere existence hurt me, and as long as I had it, I had an unsettling link to Fire Dude. He would text me at all hours of the day and night and send me pictures of people he thought looked like Handsome driving by their house. I finally managed to have the burner phone copied and I returned it to him in June. I haven’t heard from him since. He and the Whore welcomed a baby girl to the world on August 4th. That child would have been conceived during the Whore’s affair with Handsome, although he swears that he hasn’t had sex with her since 2015.

Vasectomy: Handsome had his initial consultation with the urologist and scheduled the surgery for mid-October. Given the amount of time he will need to be off – about 2 weeks since he doesn’t have a desk job – it may be delayed due to his work schedule, but he did follow through and make the appointment.

Post-nuptial agreement: This is a work in progress. Handsome tells me that he’s open to it and willing to discuss it, and then it never happens. He avoids it like the plague.  When we do manage to talk about it he says that he feels as if I’m discounting his contributions to our family and that he fears that I’m asking for the agreement only to hurt him. Those are fairly big accusations. I can understand why he might perceive those things to be true. Neither is true. This is solely about sharing the risk of staying in the marriage and protecting me and our kids in the event he is unfaithful again and the marriage ends in divorce. This is a major item on my “I need this to stay” list, so I’m not giving up and I’ll raise it in front of our CSAT if he continues to dodge the issue.

Beyond Affairs:  We just wrapped up the last of the post-intensive calls following our participation in their Healing From Affairs weekend. In retrospect, altogether it was a very worthwhile experience for us. We are (generally) communicating much better than we did before and I think we have a better understanding of how we have each viewed certain things that occurred in our marriage. We have identified our vulnerabilities in tremendous detail and talked through them in a way that most couples never do. While Handsome’s SA puts a slightly different spin on certain things, he still cheated and I’m still a betrayed spouse. There was enough relevant material in the weekend and in the after-care that we both agree it was worth the time and expense. I note for anyone considering their intensive that there are six big follow-up group calls after the intensive. Those are spaced out and are just for the participants of the particular recently concluded intensive. They also have calls every other Wednesday night throughout the year that are essentially open in perpetuity to the people who participate in any of their programs (there is a call for women and a separate call for men). The men’s calls seem to always be pretty secular (as was the intensive itself), but the women’s calls shift through both secular phases and bible-study related phases.

The Flame: Perhaps the gum is wearing off my shoe. Handsome realizes (now, finally, duh!) that The Flame isn’t all sunshine and light. He recognizes that just as he was having an emotional affair with her, she was also equally cheating on her husband. He seems to have gained some insight into why she was such a willing participant with him and what that says about her.  The Flame has gone underground on social media. I had heard that her husband was filing for divorce, but I’m not checking. She seems to have lost one of her two jobs in the last few months. One way or the other she will get what she has coming.  (Karma!)

The Unicorn: Believe it or not, but things appear to be working out for Handsome with his unicorn of an SA sponsor. I’d even go so far as to say that perhaps The Unicorn is an ideal match for Handsome. They resolved their initial communication issues and now talk fairly regularly. He has given Handsome space and time to do recovery work outside of SA, like our affair recovery work from the intensive, and because his schedule is crazy he is forgiving of Handsome’s crazy schedule as well. In short, things seem to be just fine with the two of them.

Today Handsome hits 9 months of sexual sobriety. On Sunday we will be 9 months out from our first DDay. I would say that it seems like a lifetime ago, except the pain is still so very fresh and close to the surface. We are hanging in there together though. I am trying to stay strong, one breath at a time and one hour at a time and one day at a time. Some days I do a better job than others, but writing here helps me through good and bad patches. I didn’t start blogging because I thought anyone would ever see it. I just needed to shout on paper (or a screen, to be more precise). The fact that I have received so much terrific advice, commentary, and support here from men and women that I’ve never met – even when we agree to disagree – has been both a wonderful surprise and a tremendous blessing.  I don’t really have the words to express how much you have all helped me in my healing, but I want to say that I appreciate each of you. Thank you all. ❤️

The Tale of the Tampon

I wanted to write here about an incident that happened some time ago, but that I’ve been forced to revisit in the wake of DDay #1 and DDay #2.  I have said that if you had told me before December 9, 2017 that my husband had a long-term physical affair, I would have thought you were crazy. That is true, but that’s not to say that I never had a period of doubt.

In the Fall of 2015, I had a work trip to LA for five days. It was a longer trip than usual by about two days, but it was across the country and I had two speaking engagements and a series of meetings and a few work events to attend. Handsome and the kids were at home. During those days, when Handsome was working, our kids were either in school or with our nanny at home. Our youngest was in kindergarten and our oldest was in 3rd grade. Handsome was home alone for several hours a day by himself while the kids were at school and the nanny was off at another job.

I got home late on a Sunday night and everyone was in asleep, so I just abandoned my luggage in our foyer and snuck into bed. The next morning was a jet-lagged blur of getting the kids dressed and off to school before I finally found myself with a few moments of peace in our bedroom. I was making the bed and I turned around and noticed… a packaged tampon resting on the window sill beside the bed. On my side of the bed. Aside from the fact that I haven’t needed a tampon in years (shout out to the Mirena inventor!! woot! woot!) it was neither my size nor my brand. It was unopened and appeared carefully placed there, at the edge of the window, closest to the head of the bed. It was, in fact, where you might put something if you wanted it close at hand but you didn’t want to put it on my very crowded nightstand.

This was post “Porngate” that I’ve written about here, and also post the first email incident with the Flame. I immediately assumed that Handsome had another woman in the house while I was gone. I took the tampon, found him in the basement watching ESPN, and flung it at his head while doing my best impersonation of a screaming banshee. I hurled accusations and he denied, denied, and denied. He seemed astounded, shocked. I wasn’t buying it. I did not believe him. I wanted to believe that he knew nothing about it, but he seemed to almost be trying too hard to convince me or, alternately, dismissive of the entire incident.

I later inquired of the nanny if the tampon might be hers (yep, that was an embarrassing conversation) since she was to have been the only other woman in the house in my absence. She was a lovely girl (completely and utterly unimpressed by Handsome so I wasn’t concerned that was an issue), but a bit of an airhead, and her response was along the lines of “I don’t think it’s mine, but I don’t know.” Now, the ladies out there likely understand that once you have a tampon you trust and rely on, that’s the one you are willing to go to three stores to find in your preferred brand/ size. It’s not something you switch up. I think she was trying to not get Handsome in trouble (even though I was the one paying her), but I was unconvinced.

Ultimately Handsome settled on the story that our cat, who likes to play with crinkly things, swiped it from the nanny’s bag and deposited the contraband neatly on my window sill. (Again, that pins ownership of said tampon on the nanny, and that is far from certain.) I never bought that story, although the cat was indeed in the midst of a streak of doing just those kinds of weird things. I would find the plastic wrap from a tissue box under our kitchen table, or a piece of foil on the stairs. The perfection of the placement though was always the nagging issue in my mind. It was tucked away on the sill, on a window the cat was rarely, if ever, on. Also, there were no teeth marks on it. None.

Handsome told me that he relayed the story to his buddies at work and lamented getting blamed for something he “didn’t do.” He laughed about it and acted as if I was crazy. The thing is, at that very moment I now know that he was in the midst of two emotional affairs and his physical affair with the Whore was in full swing. He may have been wrongly accused about the tampon (although I doubt it) but he was nonetheless guilty as sin at that moment. In retrospect I believe this was likely his best effort at gaslighting me.

Before my DDays I really wanted to believe that Handsome was truthful. I wanted to believe that my kleptomaniac cat just grabbed the wrong thing to play with and that it was all a big, bad coincidence. I never fully believed that – my logical brain wasn’t buying it – but I really wanted it to be true with all my heart.

Today, even after all of the disclosures and all of the therapy and the intensives, Handsome still insists that he has no idea how that tampon got there other than by way of the nanny or the cat. He says yes, he engaged in complete and utter shithead-fuckery, but that there was no other woman in our house while I was away on that trip. I want very much to believe that, but having been through what I’ve been through, I just don’t.  I don’t think I will ever believe it.

I believe in my head and my heart, based on Handsome’s other behavior, that there was another woman in my house while I was away. I don’t know who it was, and I guess it doesn’t matter. In my mind, he slept with the Whore or some random anonymous skank in my house, in my bed, while I was off working. It’s basically the same thing he did last summer with Angel Baby (except they supposedly didn’t have intercourse, although I don’t believe that either). I’ve dealt with that to some degree, and I’m dealing with this by lumping it into the same pot. Do I wish that I could just believe him?  Of course!!! He has 8 months of sexual sobriety under his belt. And for all I know he may very well be blameless as to this one instance and telling the truth about the tampon. But like the little boy who cried wolf he no longer gets the benefit of my blind faith and trust.

It’s his loss, but it sure seems like mine too.

Happy and hurting

This is our week of family vacation, sandwiched between three other weeks of my working remotely each day from our summer home in New England. Handsome has been here for a week already. Things are going pretty well. It is very much Trigger City here, but I’m trying to take back the places and things that were tainted by his acting out and we’re making new memories together and with our kids.

I put my big-girl pants on yesterday and went with my family to the church that Handsome and I married in over a decade ago. Despite never attending services there, I have loved this historic church since childhood when I attended puppet shows there with my dad on summer vacation.  When Handsome and I were here in February, two months post DDay #1, it was literally physically painful to look at the building. I had to turn my head when we drove past, deep pangs of pain shot through my body, and my eyes repeatedly filled with tears. Yesterday, well, I lived. I made a happy new memory with my family, but I can’t shake the feeling of sadness as I think back to how absolutely hopeful, joyful, and happy I was on my wedding day… and for years thereafter.

The beautiful windows in the old sea captains’ church where Handsome and I were married.

It’s not that I’m unhappy now. I don’t believe that I am. At least not every day. Maybe not even most days…? I feel like I’ve hit the point where I generally have more good days than bad.  If I think too much though, I still feel like a naive fool. Perhaps not so much on our wedding day, but certainly the last several years. It’s hard to shake that. Today, for example, we were at the beach and Handsome told me what an amazing vacation he’s having. Great. I thought the last 3+ years of vacations were amazing too, but now I know that within minutes of getting home from each of those trips Handsome was on his burner phone texting or sexting other women, often bad mouthing our vacation while lamenting the fact that the recipient of his attention wasn’t on the trip with him. He’s extremely apologetic about all of that now. He has 8 months of sexual sobriety under his belt. That’s great, to be sure, but it does not change the fact that these things happened and that I know about them now, nor does it change the fact that I was an oblivious fool for a long time. (Yes, I was actively and intentionally deceived, but I feel like I should have been smart enough to see through the BS or to put 2+2 together… I wasn’t/ didn’t and that makes me feel stupid. And feeling like you were stupid for years is absurdly painful and humiliating.)

I continue to tell myself every morning that I’m going to have a great day, and that I’m going to enjoy my family. Then I set out to try to do just that.  At the moment, aside from fending off the waves of sadness, my  biggest issue is that I find myself getting preemptively defensive or upset based on the way Handsome would have responded to something in the past, like a meltdown from one of our kids. I just assume that he’s going to start screaming and fly off the handle, and then I get defensive and protective. I’m not giving him a chance to respond based on the tools he now has at hand. I need to stop doing that, provided that he responds in a healthy way using those tools. That’s a goal of mine for our remaining time together. I want my hurt to stop, but I also need to be sure that I’m not currently hurting Handsome.

As we spend the next few days here in this place of natural and man-made beauty, I’m going to continue to seek out wonder every day with deliberateness and intention. Whether it is to be found in the panes of a church window that were handmade in another century, or in the rocks and shells carried by the tides to the beach, or in the laughter of my children as they play and dance in the sunshine, I will find it, and I want very much for my husband and kids to share it with me.

Packing for Trigger City

At the end of this week I will put my kids and my mom and her dog in my car and make the 11+ hour drive to our vacation home in New England. Normally we leave closer to Father’s Day in June, but I made the decision pre-DDay to shift our schedule this summer so that my kids could do swim team and tennis camp. Handsome will be home for about two weeks by himself, until he comes to join us for the final two and a half weeks.

The triggers this Summer are plentiful. July 2nd of 2015 was the day he screwed the Whore in a no-tell motel while I was off having lunch with my elderly mom at the seaside resort where he and I had our wedding reception.

Last year at this time I was still in pre-DDay ignorant bliss. Now I know what was going on right under my nose, and while I was away, all unbeknownst to me.

  • As of the day our kids and I left for vacation last Summer, Handsome was involved (emotionally or physically) with four other women.
  • Three days after we left, he and Angel Baby had a 2-day sleepover at our house that included their field trip to the museum, lunch, and drinks.
  • He was in daily contact with The Flame.
  • He was in daily contact with the Whore and in between their sexting he made sure to remind her how I was going out of town for several weeks, that they should get together, and vividly describing all of the sex acts he wanted to perform on her.
  • He was in regular contact with the woman (The Janitor) he took out on a date two days after he returned to town from vacation.

Handsome joined us in New England for about 12 days last Summer. We did fun things as a family and had a great time. Then:

  • He had his date night with The Janitor at the high-end romantic restaurant two days after he returned home.
  • He tries, but ultimately fails, to set up another hotel meet-up with the Whore two days before I get home with the kids (this time offering up a hotel far from her home but right down the road from ours).
  • He remains in daily contact with all of the women.

To say that I’m uncomfortable leaving him by himself is an understatement, but I’m not his mom or a baby monitor. It’s up to him to stay sober. I’ve asked him to double up on his therapy appointments or meetings while I’m away and he has agreed. That’s great, but boredom, loneliness, and unstructured alone time are all problematic for him… which makes them problematic for me.

It does not help that our vacation home – which I owned since before he and I ever started dating and which was always my very hard earned safe haven and happy place – was the site of some of his compulsive behavior. The epic sexting that went on there (complete with photos and videos from our bedroom) during his “work weekends” is still repulsive and vile and pathetic. And there are other triggers and reminders all around me there. I have to turn my head when I drive by the church we got married in… a church where my dad used to put me on his shoulders and take me to puppet shows when I was a little girl and where I take my own kids now for the same events.

Our summer vacations in 2015, 2016, and 2017 are all tainted by his affairs. In particular, in 2016 we took our regular family vacation that included our extended families, and then we took a “secret” trip – just the four of us – and had an absolutely magical week laying on the beach, playing mini-golf, eating ice cream, and relaxing. There were no schedules to juggle, no elderly relatives to please, no pets to take care of, and it was wonderful. “Best secret vacation ever” is how we jokingly and lovingly referred to it. I now know he was texting and sexting the Whore, Angel Baby, and the Flame literally within hours of pulling into our driveway at home.

Could I sell the vacation house and just start spending summers elsewhere? Sure… if I want to give up nearly 50 years of memories with my parents, friends, and our family. I’m not game for that. The skanks and his addiction aren’t going to take any more from me. I’m trying to ensure that I can take all those things back.

It’s all quite overwhelming. I’m trying to stay grounded. I’m trying to practice self-care. I’m just worried that the next few weeks may all be a bit much for me.

Avoidance – A Close Cousin of Denial?

Even though things are generally going well, I am still aware each day of the need to take care of myself in every way possible. A part of that self-care is taking measures to protect myself and my children in the event that Handsome relapses. I see no signs of this happening, but a few months of good behavior doesn’t wash away several years of horrors, nor can I predict the future based on his present intent. I don’t doubt his present intent not to act out again, but then I didn’t doubt his intent when he said our marriage vows either.

Absent a crystal ball, the best that I can do is ensure that I’ve taken the steps necessary to anticipate and to address the possibility of future problems. Fortunately, for the most part our finances have always been separate. We have one joint account, but it rarely has anything in it unless we need it to for a particular reason. We do, however, have assets, and I need to protect those not only for me but for the benefit of our children. Our son and daughter are the only two kids either of us is ever supposed to have. Everything that is ours is intended to be theirs and theirs alone should some harm befall us. Handsome and I agree on that. While I can ensure that I don’t have more children, I cannot really ensure that Handsome doesn’t get some trashy, holster-sniffing tweaker chick pregnant. He still insists that the Whore was the only AP he had intercourse with and that he used protection, but who knows? I’m not betting the proverbial farm on it. (She is actually pregnant and due next month and Fire Dude has no idea if it is his or not.) More specifically, I’m not betting my kids’ futures and college funds on it or on his ability to stay sexually sober.

I have asked for two things: a post-nuptial agreement and for him to get a vasectomy. Given what Handsome did, who he did it with, and how long his behavior went on during our marriage, I don’t feel as though either of these requests are unreasonable. Uncomfortable, sure, but not unreasonable. I pondered both things for months before I broached them with Handsome. He’s pretty miserable about both asks.

He raises all of the issues you’d expect a guy to raise about the vasectomy. (“It’s surgery!! On my balls!! What if it goes wrong???”) I can’t help but feel like he should have thought about that before he screwed the Whore and crawled into bed with Angel Baby in my f’ing house. It is literally the only way that I can ensure that I don’t open my door one day to find some ho bag standing there with a kid that looks like my husband. My family’s assets will not be used to pay child support for the spawn of his compulsive behavior, nor will my kids see their current standard of living diminished as that money goes out the door. Not happening. Not on my watch.

As to the post-nup, he’s absolutely indignant about it. If we divorce generally (not arising out of any new infidelity), we each walk away with what we came with, anything we inherit from our families, and our pensions. We split anything we accrued together. If, however, we divorce because of future infidelity (not what has already transpired), in addition to walking away with their own stuff the betrayed spouse also gets half of the betrayer’s pension. That infidelity clause (not allowed in every state, by the way, but allowed in mine) was originally specifically directed at him. In the petty move of the century, he whined that it needed to apply to me (the faithful spouse who didn’t kick his ass to the curb after all the shit he did) as well. Fine. The change was made. I know I’m not a cheater. I’m confident in my core values.

He is avoiding both issues like the plague. I think he believes that if he drags his feet enough, I’ll forget or I’ll decide they aren’t really necessary. That’s not happening. I’m happy to wait till next month to bring them up with the CSAT, but I will also continue to raise them each week in our check-in. I am nothing if not persistent.

I absolutely understand why avoiding difficult things is preferable to facing them head on. I get that. But I also think that avoidance is closely tied to denial. If Handsome had never acted on his sexual compulsions, there would be little need for either ask. But the reality – that he created by his own conduct – is that I sincerely believe that both things are necessary to protect me and our kids from his possible future behavior based upon his actual behavior in the very recent past. To take the position that this is somehow overkill is to deny that undeniable behavior.

We cannot even say that bad behavior on his part is unlikely in the future, because if I have learned anything these last few months it is that the behavior of a sex addict cannot be predicted. I know what his present intent is, and I believe him completely when he says that he doesn’t want to ever act out again. Nonetheless I, for one, would rather be safe than sorry.

The surprising benefits of celibacy

I know you’re seeing the title and thinking “BW has lost her damn mind.” I haven’t, I assure you. I have, however, done something I initially mocked as ridiculous and found it to be a very worthwhile, if challenging, experience.

Before Handsome headed off to see Dr. M a few months ago, I was in touch with Kat from Try Not to Cry On My Rainbow, and she was getting me up to speed on the likely post-intensive after-care that might be recommended for Handsome. Among other things, Kat mentioned a period of celibacy. I was aghast. Neither Dr. M nor Handsome had made any mention of such a thing. Was anyone going to bother to consult the wife? (I was completely pissed at what I perceived to be more decisions that affected me being made without my input.) I thought, if a betrayed wife was actually willing to be intimate with her husband, why would you put an end to that? Why interfere in that aspect of the relationship? It seemed silly, short sighted, and frankly a bit patriarchal to me.

Handsome went to the intensive, came home, and began implementing all of Dr. M’s recommendations… except that one. We, together, avoided that one like a hot potato. We joked about it, actually. Then I had my post-intensive follow up call with Dr. M.  He had recommended that Handsome not just stay sexually sober for three months after the intensive (which does not require that one abstain from sexual intimacy with their spouse), but that he actually maintain complete celibacy during that time. I was fully prepared to grill him on that, but when I asked him to explain his reasoning he stated very simply, “Because Handsome has to learn to cope with emotions and day-to-day existence without relying on sexual conduct, even if that conduct is with you.” Oh. Well, yeah, that made a ton of sense. It was so obvious and so simple, yet I had missed the point entirely.

We did not, to be fair, immediately get on the celibacy bandwagon. We talked a lot about how beneficial the intensive was and how helpful to Handsome’s recovery other recommendations seemed to be … and then we bargained for another weekend or a few more days of togetherness. Finally, we ripped off the band-aid and went cold turkey.

We have a few final weeks to go on the recommended three months. Has it been easy? No. In fact, for me the whole process is somewhat triggering because it reminds me on occasion of the months Handsome chose not to pursue any kind of intimacy with me while he was acting out with others. I tell myself that at least now this is a choice we are making together.

Has it made any difference? Much to my surprise, yes! I can say emphatically that it has been beneficial for Handsome and for me.  How so?

-I can see Handsome struggle with feelings, really experiencing them and not shoving them aside. He is learning to actually process them. He has, at times, been overwhelmed by his emotions, and yet he has used his non-sexual coping mechanisms and made it through just fine. (For someone who relied on masturbation as a release/ self-soothing tool for decades, long before we ever met, this is a HUGE deal.)

-He is more emotionally connected to me and to our young kids. Our kids have noticed this and commented on it.

-He is more self-aware. (Not ideally so, yet, but far better than he was.)

-It has helped Handsome realize that he can have physical contact and tenderness with me without it leading to intercourse. This has been an issue for us as I once told him in frustration “You know you can give me more than a peck on the cheek even when we don’t have the time or energy to have sex,” to which he replied “What’s the point?” We now have hugs, hand holding, kisses, and touches throughout the day just because we can, not because sex is expected or anticipated in return.

-Any purely gratuitous sexual behavior has mostly stopped. (No more untimely and inappropriate boob grabs or the like.) More specifically, it is so obvious now that we can both call it out for what it is as soon as it’s apparent. His overall behavior has normalized.

-Seeing him vulnerable and working hard on himself serves as a reminder to me that this is a person I love and that although he did horrible, offensive things, he is more than those actions. He is more than the worst things he ever did. (So are we all.)

Have we been perfect in this endeavor. Nope. I admit we fell off the wagon once. It was during our couple’s intensive weekend and while it was lovely, in retrospect, I think we both wish that we had held out. Am I looking forward to the day when this exercise concludes?  Yes, but I’m really glad we went through this experience. I think it helped Handsome move further down the path to his own recovery and it has helped me to see him in a different, more vulnerable, light as well. Celibacy always seemed like such a draconian concept to me, and I thought this was going to be punitive, but in this case it has been well worth a few weeks of our time and a couple of brisk showers.

He’s doing everything he should be… and it’s still hard for me

A few days ago, I was feeling overwhelmed. During our last check-in Handsome disclosed both something that he had been holding back and one thing he says he just remembered last week. I appreciate and respect the effort (late though it may be) for transparency, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t still painful.

He had, apparently for months, been holding back that the relationship he had with the woman he took out on a date last summer was more involved than he had led me to believe. I haven’t even given her a nickname here because I was initially led to believe it was of such short duration and insignificant that it didn’t merit further discussion as compared to his other APs. He minimized it. (Minimization is a part of Handsome’s Compulsive – Abusive Sexual – Relational Disorder (CASRD) according to Dr. M.) While they did only have one restaurant date, he was at her house once, briefly (no sexual contact), and she was in his car one night (touched her breasts), and he apparently made out with her multiple times outside her house, in the town where he works… while he was in uniform and working. (Because, apparently, risking your job and getting disease at the same time is… sexy???) This just squeaked through his polygraph because his answer to a single question about her was accurate. The question simply wasn’t comprehensive enough.

The new thing he says he just remembered is that last June when Angel Baby stayed at our house for two nights while I was away, on one of the days they got up and went for lunch at a trendy restaurant near my office, then to a museum, then to a nice restaurant for a drink before he drove her home. To exacerbate this issue, he had originally told me a sob story about picking Angel Baby up in the rain because she was standing on the street crying with nowhere to go. Allegedly it was her temporary homelessness that led him to bring her to our house. (A pathetic excuse and by no means justification, but that had been his story.) After learning of their “field trip” I checked his financial records and pinned down the precise day. It was three days after I left to take our kids to summer camp. Moreover, there was no rain where we live that week. None. (Thank heavens for the internet.) I was/ am less upset about the detail he was revealing (the field trip) than I was/ am about the dismantling of the already bullshit excuse for how she could have possibly ended up in our home in the first place. He insists that what he told me originally is what he actually remembers. Maybe. Who knows? In my mind though he has lost the benefit of the doubt. Plus, it is objectively impossible and untrue. Given the timing – his first two days off after I departed with the kids – my belief is that he premeditated to get her to our house. He denies this. He may even believe it to be true. I do not.

The following days have been tense, to say the least. I struggle with being appreciative of the transparency yet not hiding the fact that I’m crushed, yet again. Over the weekend we talked one day while the kids were off at activities and he made the mistake of telling me that it’s “hard” for him to admit to bad things when life seems to be going well between us. I proceeded to then explain to him that if he thought telling the truth was “hard” he should walk a mile in my shoes, and then I lit into him with a diatribe about all the things that are hard that I deal with every moment of every day because of what he did.

I then sent him this message a day later:

“I know that over the last weekend you were, I think, surprised to hear me express some of the very specific reasons why I am so sad and continue to find this all so very overwhelming and hard. It occurs to me that you are surprised because I don’t ever actually share these thoughts with you. You get bits and pieces of my anger, confusion, and hurt, but I seem to have adopted your method of stuffing things down inside and trying to keep my chin up.  Long term, that doesn’t do us any good. So, in no particular order and without any suggestion that this list is complete, here is a list of ten things that I am finding excruciatingly hard and challenging at the moment. Perhaps we could talk through each of them together?

  1. It is hard to know that there were so many (yes, 3 or 4 is “many” in this circumstance) other women that you wanted to sleep with when you chose not to sleep with me.
  2. It is hard to know that you communicated so much with these women when your kids and I could often barely get a few kind words from you.
  3. It is hard to know that you maintained a wholly separate life that your family was neither welcome in nor acknowledged in, except with complaints.
  4. It is hard to pay witness to your over-familiarity with these women, when you lack anywhere near that level of familiarity with your own family and things related to your family.
  5. It is hard to hear you talk about not wanting to hurt their feelings when my feelings were utterly irrelevant.
  6. It is hard to kiss you without wondering who taught you to kiss the way you do now when it was not the way you kissed me for years.
  7. It is hard to have sex with you without wondering where you learned all of the completely new things that you started doing last year and which were never part of your previous repertoire.
  8. It is hard not to feel that you gave the best of yourself to these women in desperate attempts to woo and impress them, and you didn’t care when you had nothing left for your family (emotionally, physically, financially).
  9. It is hard to know that you were spontaneous and kind and took initiative with certain of the other women when I have longed throughout most of our relationship for you to do that with me.
  10. It is hard to know that these women all believed that you picked them over me.”

Those ten struggles are probably the best status report that I could give for myself at the moment. It’s not a pretty picture. I would love to be “better than” or “above” this, but today I am not. Maybe tomorrow will be better.

Good Intentions Gone Awry

I am feeling terrible today… for my husband.

I vented here for a few months about Handsome’s apparent inability/ general delay in finding a sponsor at SA. Yes, he’s sober, but not working the steps. I would nudge him regularly about finding someone and he would assure me that he was trying and remind me that he wanted to find the “right” person. He was, I thought, perhaps waiting for a unicorn to fall into his lap. He had very specific and seemingly well thought out boxes he wanted the sponsor to tick:

  • sober for at least several years
  • has worked through all 12 steps
  • still together with his wife
  • speaks highly and respectfully of his wife/ women in general
  • makes intelligent/ good comments in meetings
  • smart and confident enough to call Handsome out if/ when needed
  • experience as a sponsor

March passes. Then April. Then most of May. And then Handsome finally identified his unicorn. I have a feeling it was akin to asking a girl to prom, but Handsome got his nerve up, asked him to be his sponsor, he said yes, and we were -I thought – in good shape. The guy ticked every single box and had been regularly attending the meeting Handsome thinks of as his “home” meeting. I very literally breathed a huge sigh of relief when Handsome shared the news.

The sponsor called Handsome a few days later, suggested reading material and a step book, all of which Handsome eagerly and dutifully obtained, and they had one other call a few days after that. And then… nothing. Crickets. Zip. Zilch. Nada. It’s as if the guy fell off the face of the Earth.

Handsome was initially worried (the first few days of no contact) that he had somehow  committed some sort of faux pas. I don’t think he did. He would only call each day as requested and leave a message along the lines of “This is Handsome, please give me a call back when you get a chance.” Days later, we hypothesized that perhaps the guy was just incredibly busy with his professional job. After a few more days passed Handsome actually googled him to see if there were reports of his untimely demise. Nothing.  It has now been three weeks since last contact.

Handsome is trying to brush this off, but I know he’s taking it personally. This might sound strange, but I’d actually feel better if he was outwardly angry about it because then, at least, he wouldn’t be shoving his feelings down (eg. how we got here in the first place). It is incredibly difficult for Handsome to put himself in a position where he has to rely on another person. He went out on a limb here, only to have it sawed off at the tree.

I’m angry on his behalf. If it turns out that his sponsor was in an accident, experienced a sudden grave illness, or was eaten by a bear, I’ll forgive him. Otherwise, even if he has relapsed, shame on him for not at least replying to Handsome to say “something has come up and I am terribly sorry but I cannot be your sponsor.” Who leaves someone hanging out there who is so relatively fresh to disclosure and seeking help through SA? It is, I think, a very shitty thing to do.

Some might say that turn about is fair play here for what Handsome did in the first instance, but I don’t see it that way. He has done just about everything I’ve asked him to do in our/ my recovery efforts. I see the work he is putting in daily. I see the huge changes for the better in his personality, outlook, and mindset. He is TRYING mightily, even if one or both of us gets frustrated from time to time. I know he was committed to starting his step work and to progressing through the steps. He had the best of intentions here, and it just sucks that someone else doesn’t seem to have taken it as seriously.

So, I’m going home to hug my husband today. I’m going to remind him that he is worthy of being loved and cared about and that he matters. And I’m going to suggest that perhaps he consider a zebra (or even a horse) instead of a unicorn.

Moving Beyond the Affairs

Like Olaf of Frozen fame, I love warm hugs. From the front, from behind… wherever. I think a good hug is like a tactile reminder of comfort and security and, in the right circumstances, of love.

I got lots of hugs this past weekend. Some great, some I’m still chuckling about. More on that later.

Handsome and I headed off to the Healing From Affairs intensive weekend put on by Anne and Brian Bercht from Beyond Affairs. I was really tense in the days leading up the intensive, and I wasn’t sleeping well at all. Handsome signed us up for the intensive back in January after DDay #1, and we had a couple of phone sessions with Brian over the last few months. In those sessions I found Brian to be a down to earth, frank, no-nonsense guy to talk to, and I wasn’t put off by his history as the betrayer in his marriage to Anne. They appear, by all public measures, to have healed both individually and as a couple. Given where I’m at right now, I laud them for that. It’s inspiring.

There were 20 couples in attendance and my only shock was that so very many of the couples were in their late 50’s and 60’s and measured their marriages in numerous decades and grandchildren. There appears to be no expiration date on infidelity. Among the betrayed spouses, the collective group faced physical and emotional affairs (some, only one such affair, others a few, and several faced many), porn addiction, use of paid sex workers, and a myriad of other horrors. Two of the betrayed spouses were men. One commonality? People can be freaking resilient. While there were spouses there all along the “stay or go” continuum, and at various points away from discovery, not a single one was operating from a position of helplessness.

This was a full weekend of activity, with each night running past 10:00PM. As with any program like this, there were parts I wasn’t crazy about (for example, sex addiction gets short shrift but is at least acknowledged and discussed). For me, the most impactful part of the weekend was a talk that Brian gave where he literally walked the group through each step of his affair, showing how it started innocently enough and then, over time, how his boundary of what was acceptable versus not acceptable moved to accommodate where he was at the moment (cognitive dissonance), and ultimately how he ended up far on the other side of his own boundary and felt “stuck” there. It was deeply personal, raw, and was a much more articulate way of explaining what Handsome has struggled to explain to me. Most importantly, Brian didn’t try to justify or to normalize how he got from one side of his boundary to the other or to make excuses for it, he just told his story.

We also did a vulnerability assessment (for the 18 months prior to the start of the affairs) and Handsome and I broke the scale apparently. On a scale of about 0-168, with 0-10 being low risk of an affair, I think our score was 125 or so. Ouch. While our current vulnerability level is quite low, based on the assessment there are definitely things we need to be mindful of over time. I think it’s something that we’ll do from time to time just to stay on course as a couple.

I left feeling really glad that we went. It was an expense we didn’t need, but it taught us several new tools we can use and it opened each of our eyes to new things and it certainly increased the level of empathy we have for one another (and I had been thinking that we were doing okay on that front, but we are doing even better now).

Now, those hugs…

I’m not a “let’s hold hands and sing Kumbaya” person. I’m just not. I can do it if I’m compelled to, but that touchy-feely thing with strangers just isn’t me. There are a number of times during the intensive when music is used to communicate a concept. On the last full night of the intensive, just before closing the day out, they played a song (it was some 80’s hair band anthem Handsome and I found terribly corny, but the lyrics were on point for the night) and the couples were encouraged, if they were comfortable doing so, to hug one another deeply. Fine. Handsome and I are enjoying the hug with my hands around his neck/ shoulders and his hands (I count them…one, two…) around my waist, and I’m enjoying the moment and then… hey, wait! One, two… three? I felt a new arm on me. Again, I count Handsome’s hands in my head and I’m thinking WTF!, but before I could start throwing elbows I quickly realize that it’s just Anne joining us in a surprise group hug. Handsome apparently had the same reaction I did, and I think Anne is likely oblivious to how close she came to getting pummeled. 🙂 We’re still chuckling about that one…

Thinking about betrayal (and driving myself nuts)

I try mightily to be fair(ish) to Handsome when I write here. Yes, I often vent, but I aim for rigorous honesty and if it looks bad for him, that’s on him. I don’t need to portray his actions in a negative light because they were horrific enough all on their own. When good things happen, I try to recognize that too. For example, Handsome finally got a sponsor. He’ll have six months of sexual sobriety and three months of sobriety from alcohol this week. This coming weekend we are going to the couples intensive he arranged for us a few months ago and he’s doing the pre-session homework. He’s keeping up with the after-care from his intensive with Dr. M including journaling every day (which I never thought he’d do, but he actually says he likes it).  All good things.

Occasionally though, things come up that I just have no idea how to process. Perhaps they are too overwhelming, or create too much confusion, or are too triggering. Or maybe they just make me ask myself, “What the actual fuck am I dealing with?” One example: during his intensive with Dr. M, Handsome was incredibly raw and overwhelmed. We were talking one night about his cheating in broad terms and I asked him out of the blue whether he had ever cheated on me during the 27 months I lived and worked on the other side of our state, when we were commuting back and forth to see each other. I had never had occasion to ask him that before, because it never occurred to me (before DDay #2) that he would have cheated all the way back then. Keep in mind, we were either married or engaged for 21 of those 27 months.

Now, I don’t know about you, but when someone asks me if I’ve done something awful and I haven’t, I answer immediately, emphatically, and without hesitation. When Handsome’s answer was “Welllllllll… (crickets chirping during long pause)… not exactly.” I knew the answer was just “yes.” His story is that we had a big fight, he didn’t think we could recover, we didn’t talk for “weeks” and he went to a local bar and he met a girl and he later took her out to dinner. During dinner he says he realized it was just absurd and not what he wanted, so he finished dinner, took her home, and that was the end of it.  I didn’t want to sound like Ross and Rachel, but I grilled him on whether he was under the impression we were on a break or that we had broken up. No, he wasn’t. He acknowledged we had never broken up.

What do I make of this revelation now, years of marriage and two kids later? His story simply isn’t plausible for a variety of reasons. First, we have never, ever gone weeks without speaking. In fact, we’ve never gone more than 48 hours without speaking. Memories can be faulty, so I actually went back and reviewed my cell phone records from back then (I swear I’m not a hoarder…I have them only because at the time the phone was a plausible work expense, so they’re in my tax files). There are only a handful of times we didn’t speak each and every day. Next, I simply have zero recollection of this allegedly big fight. I went back through my calendars to see when this might have happened, and over the 6 months I lived there before we got engaged we saw each other regularly every two weeks if not weekly. We talked daily, sometimes several times a day. We took trips and vacations together. It just doesn’t add up. Plus, this was not a hook up. By his own admission, he chatted her up at the bar, got the girl’s number, called her, set up a date, and then took her on that date. That takes a few days, and we’d have been in touch in that time. In short, my conclusion is simply that he cheated. We hadn’t broken up and he took someone else out on a date. That’s cheating.

By my best guess, this occurred sometime in late January 2004. We had seen each other over the New Year holiday and then again over the long holiday weekend mid-month. Then we didn’t see each other again for three weeks (we spoke daily) until we took a long-planned vacation together to Punta Cana the week of Valentine’s Day. Why do I suspect that window? When we got to Punta Cana, Handsome was an asshole. I mean a miserable jerk face. He snapped at me so badly before we checked in that I thought about turning around and flying home alone. The vacation improved greatly over the week, but those initial few days were incredibly difficult. At the time, I attributed it to a dozen things: his hatred of flying, exhaustion from work, maybe I really was a bitch? Now, post DDay, it’s the same behavior I saw throughout his acting out… picking fights and blaming me to “justify” to himself whatever crap he was up to.

So, then I start to wonder… now that I know, what exactly do I do with the information?  To me, this ties to my post a few weeks ago on betrayal and whether our choices would have been different if we, the betrayed, had the whole truth (click here for that). Would I have kept dating him if I knew he did this? Hard to say. Maybe not. Yes, I was in love with him, but I was also living hours away and had plenty of other non-cheating, educated, employed, single guy options at hand. I’m not entirely sure what I would have done. Would I have agreed to marry him? Even more doubtful, and certainly not so soon afterwards. I most definitely would have wanted him to do some serious work on himself first.

Just like now, he had choices then. He could have actually had the balls to break up with me before dipping his toe (or anything else) back into the dating pool. He could have admitted what he did at the time he did it. Or, better yet, he could have chosen to work through whatever disagreement he claims we had and stay faithful to his devoted girlfriend of three years that he kept talking to about marriage.

Many of my decisions that have flowed forth since then have been based on my ignorance. I used to confidently tell people that I actually thought our long-distance romance was helpful to us early on because we had to learn to communicate really well with each other. Unbeknownst to me, it also seems to have been when Handsome started honing his compartmentalization and deception skills. I had no idea.

So, what am I going to do? Likely nothing, other than ruminate on how long he has actually been betraying me. That’s the sad fact of it. I don’t see a point in driving myself more nuts over something that happened 14 years ago. I can dissociate myself from that. Compare and contrast that though with driving myself nuts over whether he’s been keeping secrets throughout our entire marriage, as opposed to just the last five years. (I say “just” now as if that number of years is de minimus, but it isn’t. It’s a hair  under 40% of our marriage, to be precise.)

Does it matter?  I don’t believe the answer makes his cheating better or worse depending on the answer.  It’s all bad either way. Nonetheless, the more time passes the more I reconsider previous events that I thought I had processed and moved beyond. I’m not suggesting that Handsome is still overtly lying (of course, he very well might be). He is, however, a master at lies of omission. I am left to wonder what secrets he may still be holding on to for dear life… the tightly held mysteries of our marriage and the vestiges of his addiction.

Our weekly check-in follows a format from his intensive program, and one of the  questions is “What is a lie or secret that you are keeping?” No matter how much thought or effort Handsome puts into the rest of the check-in, and it’s usually considerable, he inevitably glosses over this question. He has, on occasion, tried to skip it entirely. When he does address it, either the “secret” will be something hardly secret or the lie will be something along the lines of a white lie. (“Daughter asked if I liked her haircut and I said yes, but I really don’t care for it.”) It’s maddening. I’ve started to call him out on it, to hold him somewhat accountable for half-assing that part of the exercise. You would think that 5+ years of acting out would give him fodder to come up with legitimate, meaningful answers to that question, but he can’t (or won’t) as of yet.

I know he’s an addict. I know that secret keeping is as much a part of his addiction as what those secrets are about. There is probably very little more he could disclose that would shock me. We’ve been through a polygraph that he passed with flying colors. Certainly, what I can imagine in my head is likely worse than anything else that may have happened. (As I commented on another blog, I’ve told Handsome in all seriousness that if someone called me tomorrow and said “Hey, BW, I just saw Handsome fucking a monkey,” I would politely thank them for calling, hang up, and then start Googling intensive treatment programs for monkey fuckers.) That’s the tragic part here. I just want to know the totality of what I’m dealing with, process it, forgive, and move on. He wants to keep his secrets to save his pride and to protect himself from further shame. The two are fairly mutually exclusive, and so I continue to drive myself a little nuts over things that are totally outside my control.

 

Today is our 13th wedding anniversary

Yep… today is lucky #13.  On my work calendar – which I must have filled out late last Fall but before DDay #1 – the date has pink and yellow highlighter all over it and “Our Anniversary!!!” scrawled across it as if it belongs to a love struck teenager rather than an actual, gainfully employed, responsible adult. (If, of course, said teenager still used a paper calendar…) It makes me sad. Then versus now.

How are we celebrating the day? We aren’t. I cannot cheer for under six months of sexual sobriety. I won’t buy a card for honoring your wedding vows recently. I do not yet wear my wedding rings. (He does.  I’ve never seen him without it. Go figure…)

I’m not trying to be an asshole about the day or wallow in self-pity. Hey, I’m still here, trying very hard each day to work through things. That is, I suppose, my way of honoring our marriage. He’s still my person, despite the horror he brought to me and our kids (literally, to our home). I can’t, however, pretend for a day that the world hasn’t shifted off its axis and that we’re all good.

Instead, my son turns 9 in two days. I’m going to focus all of my energy on him and put out of my mind how his dad’s deceit traces all the way back to before he turned 3. I’ll ignore the previous anniversaries where I thought I had something to celebrate, or the kids’ birthdays where I’m smiling in the photos because I’m oblivious to my husband’s acting out. Don’t get me wrong. I’m truly grateful that we are both committed to healing and making our marriage work. I appreciate all the work Handsome has done and is doing in that regard. I’m happy we can celebrate our son’s birthday as a united tribe, together in our home, and I’m sure it will be lovely.

It just doesn’t mean that I’m not sad too.

On being betrayed

I was poking around the depths of the internet recently and I found an old, but still relevant, article on betrayal in the NY Times: https://nyti.ms/2k8oupp .  As much as I dislike the level of discourse in most comment sections, the NY Times moderates and curates theirs pretty carefully.  Two comments to the article hit really close to home:

From stuenan in Kansas:

Liars are also thieves. They steal time and possibilities. What life might you have led if you hadn’t believed all their lies? What opportunities did you miss out on because you made choices based on the lies you were told? What did you give up and sacrifice for someone you loved, believed in and trusted?

It’s hard not to feel that you have been preyed on in the worst way and that your life has been wasted.

and

From Amy in Chicago:

Discovering betrayal is like taking a hit from a baseball bat to the knees. It takes a lifetime to learn to walk upright again and look the world in the eye.

To me, both comments ring true in a very personal way. Yes, Handsome is a sex addict, but his addiction involved multiple forms of cheating and betrayal. I’m no different from any other betrayed spouse except my cheater now goes to 12-step meetings. Any infidelity is sufficient to cause these feelings, whether the betrayal is emotional, physical, or otherwise.  Perhaps I’m wrong, but I don’t even think it matters much if your spouse cheated five times or five hundred, or over the course of one week or one decade. While some may find consolation that what their spouse did wasn’t “as bad” as what another spouse did (or, conversely, believe that their misery is greater because of a longer duration or greater number of misdeeds) it’s a distinction without a difference.

If you are betrayed, you suffer. You hurt. You cry, rage, scream, and lash out. You question. You doubt. And then you suffer some more, usually for a very long time.

What life might I have led if I hadn’t believed all of Handsome’s lies? On my good days I think that if I had pressed harder in 2012 (after the Flame reared her ugly head the first time) maybe we wouldn’t be where we are today.  Perhaps I should have believed less or doubted more.  On my not so charitable days, I feel as though I was sold a bill of goods about Handsome from the very beginning and that had I been shown a truthful picture of him from the start, I’d be blissfully living a trigger-free life with someone else. I can’t imagine being with anyone else and the very thought of it makes me sad, but still…

What opportunities did I miss out on because I made choices based on the lies I was told?  What did I give up and sacrifice for Handsome? I left an amazing job with fantastic benefits, dear friends, and a full, independent life in a big city to move back to where he and I met, because he said he’d love and honor me forever.  And here we are, facing the fallout of that unfulfilled promise. I seem to have also sacrificed healthy portions of my self-esteem, dignity, and confidence to his lies as well.

Most days, I get by okay. Some days now, I actually do well. My mind only reels for portions of the day, not all of it. Nonetheless, Handsome’s betrayal has maimed me and inflicted a trauma of the type I’ve never had to deal with before: a Tonya Harding-esque bat to the knees for sure. So, when Handsome exited his therapy session with the Doc yesterday and started talking about forgiving himself? Well, forgive me, but my initial reaction was along the lines of “Now? So soon? That’s it? You’re told to magically let this years-long shit storm you created go after 6 months, but I get the joy of dealing with it, and you, forever?” Uh, no.

I should have seen this coming though. As the article says: “…it is often the person who lied or cheated who has the easier time. People who transgressed might feel self-loathing, regret or shame. But they have the possibility of change going forward, and their sense of their own narrative, problematic though it may be, is intact.” Yes, Handsome certainly knows his own story, while I grasp at straws to figure it out. He knew the life he was living, even if it was compartmentalized. My narrative, on the other hand? My life hasn’t been what I thought it was for a very long time.

I’m all in favor of Handsome not carrying shame with him every day for the rest of his life. Shame was a driver for his acting out. And yes, at an appropriate point he should forgive himself. To me, however, that point comes after he has (i) made a full accounting of his behavior and the harm he has caused, (ii) endeavored to make amends for that harm, and (iii) evidenced the commitment to never betray his family again by living a life of integrity day in and day out for longer than a red-hot minute. Once he does these things I will be prepared to forgive him as well. But he’s nowhere near that point, and neither am I. I’m still struggling to walk upright again and look the world in the eye.