Vacation Mulligan

I went quiet earlier in the month for a bit because we packed up the kiddos and my 86-year-old mom and flew to Florida to visit a very famous mouse. You may recall that when Handsome and I tried this as a grown up get-away weekend last September, it all went to hell in a hand basket. This time went much better, even with Valentine’s Day tossed into the mix just to amp up the stress.

The first two days of the 11-day trip were not great. (I think I told Handsome that they sucked ass, to be blunt.) Handsome was tired and irritable and I started to worry that I was going to have a repeat of September on my hands in front of my mom and kids. And then, somehow, things turned a corner and got better. Very much better, in fact. There were a few stressors (my daughter is a challenging tween, my mom is a challenging senior, and my son’s relationship with Handsome is still strained… and then there’s me with all my betrayal trauma baggage), but we had fun and packed as much as we could into each day and night.

Last year I had forbidden any celebration of Valentine’s Day except with regard to our kids. This year, I leaned into it a bit. Finding a suitable card was tough, but I found a good one for Handsome and he picked a lovely one for me. He also gifted me a cute bracelet that pays homage to my favorite Magic Kingdom ride – the Haunted Mansion (everyone in my family hates that ride and I have loved it forever). We had lunch with the princesses in Cinderella’s Castle and then dinner in the California Grille on top of our resort overlooking the Magic Kingdom. It was a pretty perfect day.

We rounded out the trip with a few sunny days of rest and relaxation in Vero Beach and, thanks both to the willingness of our kids to eat pizza and watch movies and the unfortunate flu that wiped out my mom for a few days, we were able to have dinner together, alone, twice. That was a nice treat. My husband was his non-addict self and I was reminded why I fell in love with him in the first place.

I got really sad about two days before we flew home because much of the trip seemed like the best parts of my pre-DDay life. (Because, let’s be honest, ignorance can indeed be blissful.) Knowing that I was coming home to meetings and CSAT visits and unresolved disclosures and other dilemmas (our nanny of 5 years tendered her notice, and hiring a new one is a daunting experience when your husband is a sex addict), all just made me unbelievably sad. It sharply marked the difference between life “before” versus life “after” disclosure.

We were sitting at the beautiful pool, on a gorgeous day, our kids were being kids and having a blast, and Handsome asked why I looked sad. I debated my answer. I could lie or downplay what I was thinking. That seemed counter-productive. So I told him the truth: “Because this moment right now is incredibly awesome and yet it highlights for me how much I hate my new life at home.” He didn’t ask me why. (I’m sure he thinks he knows.) He did tell me that he was sorry and express some empathy. That, I suppose, is progress in and of itself.

Handsome has slept poorly every night since we got home. At our CSAT appointment yesterday, he blamed it on my statement about hating my life. He said that makes him think there is no hope and it makes him think of running away. Handsome starts researching houses to buy when he gets in these woe-is-me moods, seemingly forgetting that we’d need to divorce before he could buy a house and that he’ll not be able to afford to maintain his current lifestyle if that happens so he’s looking waaaay over his actual budget.  That “poor discouraged me” victimization crap drives me insane. CrazyKat wrote eloquently about it this week on her blog. It is indeed destructive and cowardly. It also highlights the difference in thought processes between my brain and his.

Let’s switch scenarios. Assume for a moment that I ran him over with my car. There he is, the person I say I love most in life, bleeding out in need of aid. Personally, I would be elbows deep in the gore trying to save him, ease his pain, and comfort him. After he received treatment, I would be fully dedicated to assisting him with rehabilitation or taking him to appointments, or doing whatever else is necessary for him to heal. I wouldn’t have to be asked (much less begged or cajoled). I would just do it because I love him and it is the right and decent thing to do, to try to make things right when you cause harm. I cannot even imagine running from the scene, but that is exactly what Handsome’s house hunting mode equates to. One response is pure childish selfishness, and the other is not.

I shouldn’t have to tell him that a thoughtful response to my truth would be to reflect on his efforts to heal the marriage to date and consider how he might more actively support our healing as a couple. It shouldn’t have to be spelled out for him that maybe whatever efforts he was making on the vacation – which had been truly terrific aside from the initial bumps – need to continue at home. I would think those things are obvious. Apparently not. I did ask him to read Kat’s blog post. The irony of the timing of her post, coupled with the similarity of our experiences, was not lost on him. That too is probably a bit of progress, but I’m not sure it balances out the BS that Kat describes so well. Nonetheless, I’m chalking up the vacation as a success, even if it shed light on some serious work to be done in the coming cold winter days at home.

4 thoughts on “Vacation Mulligan”

  1. I love the analogy, pretty much sums it up. I have just responded to cad’s post and have said how I truly believe that reflection is the only way to move forward and evolve. I have also said how 90% of people don’t want to do the work.

    I have been asked by people how do you write a journal! They have seriously asked ‘how do you do it because I can’t find anything to write.’ !! I know that is because they know (deep down) what will come out and they don’t want to hear it from their own lips. After all if you don’t like yourself then where do you go from there? Now you and I know that you go forwards, to a place where you do like yourself, to a place where you can look back and know you have evolved, and look forward knowing you will continue to do so. But you have to put the work in to get there. Hense H putting it back on you, he needs to do the work. Keep going, you never cease to amaze me. Moisy

    1. I think a lot of folks are just stunned at how much work it takes to right the ship. Work from BOTH sides. Mind you, my husband just assumed that once I found out about him that I would leave, but I don’t think he ever realized how much effort it would take to repair things if I decided to stay. He wasn’t foolish enough to think it would only be a matter of weeks or months, but I don’t believe that he envisioned that it could take multiple years.

      Also, I believe there are things we all tolerated or ignored in our pre-betrayal relationships that we simply are unwilling to accept now. (“If I’m staying I’m not putting up with ________ anymore.”) That’s normal and yet it adds to the effort that has to be made. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the look on Handsome’s face when our CSAT had to explain to him that, “You absolutely destroyed your wife with your betrayals. She is working to heal and working to stay in this marriage, but there are things she put up with reluctantly before that are simply unacceptable now. She isn’t going to accept the same marriage she had before. It either gets better or she’s out.” He was floored. (Duh!!)

      My Husband is trying. I see that. Yet I also see that rather than sort of surrendering into his recovery he tries to shoe-horn it into his life in a way that suits him. It’s slowing his progress. I see that, as do the therapists involved. He doesn’t see it yet. He also struggles to work on healing us in addition to his own recovery. They aren’t mutually exclusive. He needs to figure that out too. In the meantime, yes, I keep going.
      ❤️

  2. I’m glad you were able to have a vacation with some “incredibly awesome moments.” I actually find that quite amazing in your situation, and admire your ability to put some things aside in your mind to be able to focus and enjoy the positive and great experience you are having. I so often still find that difficult to do. It doesn’t mean our vacation or getaway sucked, or was bad, but I can’t shake the underlying sadness enough to fully relax and enjoy the moment. So it makes perfect sense to me that on your last few days of the trip the sadness descended upon you despite the beautiful surroundings and day. I hope you have brought some of the sunshine home with you. xo

    1. It’s interesting, but I find that longer trips seem to go better because I can at least get a day or two in where I can step aside from the underlying sadness. It never goes away exactly, but I can seem to loose myself in the moment even for a few days. The sadness does definitely come back the last day or two. It certainly did on this trip. Even pre-DDay I was often miserable the last day of any vacation (fun was ending, months at work with no break ahead, laundry and emails to catch up on, etc.), but this was different. It was a deeper feeling of not just sadness that the fun was ending, but a profound sense of loss. I’m going to have to watch out for that in the future and figure out a way to manage it.

      I did bring sunshine home, but apparently the heat decided to stay in Florida. 🙂
      xo

Please share if you've had a similar (or totally different) experience on your journey.