Summah (as they say in New England)

Vacation mood.

In July, as of my last post that month, things were crazy at home, but calm and peaceful at my happy place. I had a few weeks of bliss there after I arrived.That stayed true. Mostly.

The packages from the unknown woman came to an end sometime in early August. Handsome handled them and dealt with Amazon while I was gone and whatever he or Amazon did seems to have worked. There were 20+ packages by the time it was all over, but none for the last month.

Since I blocked all mail.com emails, I’m also not directly getting the emails someone sends me with videos and photos of Handsome at work. I checked my junk folder last week and there were several in there, but they seem to have stopped a few weeks ago as well. I didn’t open them so their content remains a mystery, but that’s fine. Those I saw in July before I blocked them showed nothing of note.

Handsome did come up to my happy place for a few weeks of vacation. To be blunt, the first five days were simply hell. He was not in good recovery when he arrived (still sober, but nasty and hostile) and he made everyone miserable. We had an emergency call with our CSAT on the 5th day. During the call, when he saw how distraught I was at his conduct, his tune changed… a little. He was less harsh, but still not quite the guy working hard on his recovery that he was in late Spring. We did have some really good times with our kids though, including a beautiful day on the water for a whale watch.

There was one gigantic triggering event before he left that derailed me for longer than I care to admit. Our daughter was ill, so while she was resting we took our son out for the day. He picked up a stuffed whale toy at the National Park gift shop. He names all of his stuffed friends so, on the way home, he was asking what Handsome and I thought he should name the whale. I’m volunteering silly names like Blubber and Whaley and Shamu, and Handsome picks up the suggestions with “…or Natalie or Sarah or Angel Baby… .” Yep. Let that sit a minute. My husband suggested that our son name the stuffed toy after one of his APs. Mind you, I’ve never heard of Natalie or Sarah, but I can guess who/ what they are and I certainly know who Angel Baby is.  I had a real, immediate, full blown PTSD reaction. I knew Handsome and our son were still talking, but the sound seemed like I was hearing it under water. Everything slowed till I could hear my own heartbeat. My vision became blurry. I thought I was going to vomit in the car. I was trying to remember my grounding techniques but it had been ages since I had to use them. They were just out of my mental grasp.

Fortunately we were less than a mile from the house. Handsome knew he screwed up royally. He apologized and then tried to joke me off the ledge when we were alone (he often thinks if he can make me laugh or smile, we’re all good… not true). It took a few days to try to work through that pain. I’m fine hearing that same name in any other context and from any other person and I’m even fine using her name to discuss her with him. Coming completely out of the blue and out of his mouth (and to our son, nonetheless) it was like a shotgun blast. Do I think he intended to hurt me? No. I just think it was an incredibly thoughtless addict thing to do/ say. We did get back on track, but when his departure day came, I wasn’t at all sad to see him go. It was a relief.

I had a chance to see a few friends while I was away. These are people with whom I’ll always have a connection, even though we mostly keep up to speed via Christmas cards and an occasional email. I’ve known them for 30 years. In talking with them and having them ask me about certain things (like “where’s your camera?” since I was never without one) I realize how I’ve steadily made myself smaller to account for Handsome sucking all the life air out of the room. I resolved to quit doing so. Immediately. About 4 weeks out from that realization, I’m doing pretty well making time for my interests and my needs. I’m also shopping for new cameras.

We had a CSAT appointment just days after I returned home. It wasn’t pretty. I was far more emotional than I normally am, and I didn’t hold back. I left in tears that day, and emotionally exhausted, but I felt good having spoken my mind. It gave me strength which I would very much need just a few days later.

[By the way, my son ended up naming his toy Whaley, thank heavens. Can you even imagine if I had to hear him saying that name constantly??]

 

12 thoughts on “Summah (as they say in New England)”

  1. File this under “what the hell was he thinking?!” SA’s can be the most thoughtless creatures on the planet. SO sorry this incident took place and hopefully your CSAT made clear to him what this did to you emotionally. Sending huge hugs! ❤️

    1. Yes, thoughtless in many ways. Particularly in that “I don’t think of anyone other than me” way. He wasn’t trying to hurt me. He just still lacks the capacity to consider that something like this might hurt me. He was squarely inside his distorted head. (sigh)

  2. I really hope you get this as my comments have been mistaken as spam lately, but I wanted to let you know that I am so sorry for his continued idiocity, but I also wonder if he get’s some sort of thrill saying these things and acting this way- it’s shocking/not shocking.

    I am sending you a big huge hug.

    1. Got it! (But yes, I’ve been digging comments out of spam a lot…) After several things occurred I did grill him on whether it was intentional on some level because it just seems too frequent not to be. Our CSAT hypothesizes that it’s more likely unthinking self-sabotage. Her theory is that on some level he’s convinced himself that I’m going to leave so he is careless and these things happen and if I were to leave he’d say “see, I told you so” as if it was predestined and not the result of his actions. It’s maddening either way.

      Hug accepted, and I hope that you are well.
      xo

      1. Those women were objects like the stuffed whale. To be picked up, played with, and put down at will. Maybe their names represent the same kind of one-way “fun” a kid has with a toy like that.

        1. Definitely objects, not real people. And I do believe he recalls and thinks of them more than he’d like to admit. You don’t play with a toy each day for three years and then suddenly forget it completely. It just doesn’t happen.

  3. I love that you are focusing on yourself my friend, you know that I believe no matter now much we love someone we have to love ourselves more: to make us strong, to enable us to live, for the relationship to move forward. If you don’t have yourself you have nothing.
    Looking forward to seeing the pictures you take with that camera. ❤️

    1. And I can’t wait to share more of them. The whale pic is mine, from my iPhone. Not my best, but I’m glad I caught it. 🐋

  4. I love that you are focusing on yourself, you know my mantra: if you don’t have yourself you have nothing. I truly believe that no matter how much we love someone we should love ourselves first, not in a selfish way, but in the realisation that all we really have is ourselves.
    Looking forward to seeing your pictures from that camera. ❤️

  5. I wrote a comment a couple days ago, but I think WordPress ate it? 🤷🏻‍♀️

    So, sex addicts are super effed up. That’s nuts about the stuffed animal. It seems really ungrounded. The good thing, if you are like me, is eventually that behavior won’t exist anymore, or if it does, an angry slip, or whatever, you won’t care anymore. It won’t bother you anymore. It’s part and parcel to their insanity. The good will start to outweigh the bad in a way that although it will never be what it once was, it will be a new normal. Not perfect, but not horrible.

    Sometimes BE says stuff now, and my response is simply, take that %#*! to your SA brothers. Don’t dump it on me.

    Gorgeous whale pic. What fun! 🐳

    ❤️

    1. You win the understatement of the year award with your entry of “…sex addicts are super effed up.” Yup. Lol. They sure are. One would have to be, right? Otherwise how could a person do what they do?

      I think ungrounded is a really good description of where my husband was over the Summer. I felt like he was grasping at straws in his recovery and grasping at straws at home and just not finding a solid footing anywhere. The good does still outweigh the bad most days, but I’m kind of wearing out. I do wonder if I’ve conditioned myself that “not bad” is “good” and I’m selling myself short. I want a really good life. Not a “well, considering that her husband is a sex addict she’s still got a good life” kind of life. Maybe that’s unrealistic.

      I think WP must have eaten your earlier comment. (Grrrrr…) There’s nothing in spam or unapproved. I did get and approve your comment on the 19th on my last post though.
      xo

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