As I am writing this, I feel like I'm getting a breath of fresh air.
I've missed this blog of mine.
So here I am, doing a hard thing and letting the world know why I have been absent these last three weeks.
I had a really hard time after my husband's last slip. He was able to get a lot of help and had a lot of realizations. He was back in recovery lickity split and apologized to me profusely. After a little while, I started feeling a lot of pressure from him to be forgive and move on. For three weeks straight. And by the end of it, I was asking myself: "What is wrong with me?" "Why can't I get over this?"
Three days ago, I asked myself again "Why am I having such a hard time? How has this REALLY affected me? What's the big deal?" And then I realized exactly how this addiction has affected me.
And here it goes. When we first got married and were living in different town, I felt like true newlyweds. "The honeymoon was never over" if you get my drift. I hadn't been in a sexual relationship as I had decided to save myself for my husband. We were like most couples who are newlyweds, but after a while, I started missing my sleep. I'd say that I just wanted to sleep, but I kept getting pressured, despite him saying I respect you, but the pressure just kept coming, so eventually I would give in to his desires just so I could get some sleep. Because I had chosen to save myself for marriage, I didn't have anything to compare my experiences to. I thought certain behaviors were normal, and didn't know what was right and wrong in regards to sex. All of this is up to personal boundaries, but I was never taught that in my home.
While we were in our first few months of our marriage, I noticed something strange. Well, I didn't consciously notice it, but my behavior changed because of it. My husband had started ignoring me- unless he was hungry or wanted sex. Maybe ignoring is the wrong word. He was looking right past me. I felt like a ghost when I was around him.
I tried to get his attention many times in many ways, for instance, baking pies, leaving notes, cleaning the house, scavenger hunts, surprise dates, but he always seemed annoyed or grouchy about the things I would do for him, and always expected more at the end of it. Eventually, I gave up, and resorted to other tactics- I would just threaten to leave. We got in many terrible fights, and always at the end of them, I would say that I was leaving him, and then storm out the door, sometimes making it to the car, and sometimes around the block before I would turn around again, and come back, afraid that he was looking at porn. A few times I came back, and he confessed that he had been.
While we were dating, we were very social, and until the isolation started kicking in, we would have many people coming through our apartment to say hi, and usually they commented on how nice our apartment was. It had vaulted ceilings, walk in closet, state-of-the-art kitchen, the works, way more than a newlywed couple needs. Every time someone commented on how nice it was, I cringed. I didn't know why at the time, but now I do. I hated the front that we had put on- that everything was fine- because everything was not fine, and I was in hell. I started fights with him trying to get him LOOK at me again. Fights started escalating, to the point where one time he pushed me up against the washer and dryer. I was scared, and knowing the physical power he had over me, I knew that things were headed downhill. I found porn on his devices, and on his covenant eyes reports many times. Every time, I confronted him and asked why our marriage wasn't enough for him to just STOP looking at other women... this obviously activated his shame, and started more terrible fights. Afterwords, I would cave to his desires, which I knew would make him be nice to me again. I hate that apartment. That apartment and it's memories represents my personal hell.
After a while, I couldn't take it anymore, and decided that I wanted to go to school at the school I was going to before we got married. We drove up and visited, trying to see if it were a possibility after a bad semester for me up there, and I broke down in tears when i found out I had to wait a few months to move. After crying in his living room, I remember my father-in-law telling me that sometimes Heavenly Father keeps us where we are supposed to be for a reason. I remember thinking "What kind of Heavenly Father would want me to live in the hell I was living?"After about 7 months of living in our previous apartment, we moved back to the school, about 2 hours away. It wasn't until this week that I realized why I wanted to move so badly. Nobody really understood why I wanted to move. My family was close, I had just gotten promoted at my job and LOVED working there, great apartment, My husband was at his dream school... all I knew was that I had to get out of there.
When we moved, we treated it like a new start. We decided to actually start going to church again (we hadn't gone much in our previous apartment, mostly because of the shame we were both feeling). And once we got here, I we got into an apartment that would not have been open had we moved right when I wanted to. Because we got into this new apartment, we were able to meet a very special Bishop that helped turn our lives around. We started attending 12-step group, which was helpful, but after 6 months of minimal improvement, he referred and helped us financially see our therapist in the life star program.
Well, When I attended 12-step group, I had listened to the women around me tell about how badly this was affecting them, and I tried to connect with their stories personally, but I didn't feel like I related really. I would cry for their obvious pain, and grieve with them, but I felt that I was there to get my husband to come. I wasn't there for my personal pain, I was mostly there just to vent and to make sure my husband came. I told my story, but I didn't really understand why I felt hurt every time my husband confessed to masterbating or looking at porn. I thought I was hurt because he didn't love me or our future son enough to stop.
I didn't realize just what the addict mindset can cause a husband to do to his wife. I didn't see how much like a robot I was acting, and how big of a wall I had put up. I really did feel like the only way that I could get my husband's attention when he was looking through me was to "put out." And during that brief time, he actually looked at me, and told me I was somebody. Any other time, he was there but he wasn't really there. He was somewhere else. So I continued to put my self respect on the line, hoping to be built up by the one person who was supposed to be guaranteed to build me up, only to have him escape from me immediately after again. I was pushed away, told not to cuddle, told to "lighten up" about things that made me uncomfortable, and was told that all these things were normal in marriages.
I didn't know any better. It's not until I realized that people with healthy mindsets set firm boundaries around their values, even in marriages, that I started to comprehend that this wasn't normal. And it wasn't until I started to set firm boundaries around my values that I started to realize how far I had slipped into co-dependent behavior. And it wasn't until I started letting him into my heart again that I realized exactly how I was hurt, and how bad it was.
And now that I know, I can start to work on my TRUE recovery.
Because now that I know what I'm recovering from (and I'm sure I'll uncover more trash as I go along), I can address it face on rather than running away from it and feeling confused about the pain I am feeling.
Join me in my journey
