J is out of town on business. I've been surprised by how at peace I've been with the idea of traveling while still in these earlier stages of recovery. But, it is what it is, he's being the most honest and transparent that he's ever been, and if there's ever a time for him to go out of town on business and successfully avoid porn, it's now.
He called today after a lunch, just to say 'hi'. Then about four hours later called back and apologized for not really being able to talk before, because people were around. I was confused, "Um, we did talk . . ." He then went on to tell me he'd been antsy to call me all afternoon, and that the contractor he's traveling to see took him out to lunch. At a 'Hooters-ish' kinda place. My heart sunk (for him) -- what a crappy thing to have thrown in your path when you're working to rid your life of lust and objectification. He said he tried to avoid looking as much as possible, but with dozens of waitresses in bikini tops, it was difficult. But, he shared how he couldn't stop thinking about how degrading the entire situation was . . . the men there staring at these women, how the women were dressed. Did these women value themselves as more than this, did they know they should be seen as so much more than their bodies? He sighed sadly, then I could just hear the smile break out on his face when he said, "You know, recovery is really taking all the fun out of my porn addiction." Ha!
As much as I hate that he had to be thrown into that situation when he's working so hard to avoid these kinds of triggers -- I appreciate that he was given the opportunity to feel discomfort at the situation, to call me and let me know what had happened, and to realize that with effort, he can focus more on the attitude he's trying to cultivate than just on the bodies he'd had the opportunity to stare while thousands of miles away from his family.
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Couldn't Sleep Last Night . . .
OK, so here's the deal. I have shared a lot of the resources I've found with our Bishop, who's really awesome with this whole topic in my opinion. He's never been anything but loving, supportive and compassionate with me on this road I'm traveling. His heart aches for the women who are struggling even more than me and he doesn't know what to do for them. I've written a long anonymous email addressed to women just dealing with this in their lives (the whole 'holy crap what just happened to my life' phase) that he's shared with women when he feels it could be helpful. He's planning a 5th Sunday lesson (July?) where he wants to go talk to the women really candidly about porn and the 12-step program (ie, this is already here, this is affecting half of you, enough talk about prevention, how do we help the great number of you already hurting). He talked to J and I about possibly speaking at this meeting. If we wanted to, but no pressure. We've talked about it at length, and feel strongly that although we do want to help people, but we don't want to put ourselves in a place to be judged or have it affect how people feel about us or our kids (i.e., like what if people didn't feel comfortable having kids come to our house anymore to play kinda thing.) But, we do want to be involved in the 5th Sunday lesson, and each of us is going to write a letter to be shared.
Here's what I'm considering . . . I want to explain my situation a little, what the 12 step program has meant to my husband and I, then extend an open invitation for any woman struggling with this in her life to meet at a specific meeting. Our Relief Society has temple groups, where people meet up at someone's house and all carpool to the temple. I want to create a similar group for recovery meetings. Women who can meet up and carpool and get together (maybe go get frozen yogurt afterwards or something even). I want to basically bear testimony through this letter that this program may as well be called, "How to tap in to the power of the atonement" and how much healing is there and how if they are struggling with this at all in their lives, they need to be there. They will meet and find their Savior in these meetings, in this manual.
What do you think?
Would it have helped you in stage before you went to meetings or if you haven't been to them before, to start attending? Would you go with sisters from your Ward?
What would you write in a letter to your Relief Society sisters?
I am willing to be the Ward 'support group point person' if that's what it takes to help women get involved in this program and find their own healing. I feel like this is what I am here to do right now. My husband has also told the Bishop he is also happy to have the Bishop send men/young men (with their parents) his way with questions about the program and the 12 steps. We don't feel good about putting it out there to the whole Ward, but we do feel a call to be there for people who are actively struggling with this. It makes me a little nervous that it would 'get around', but I'm hoping just among women/men who are dealing with this in their own lives. The other option is just share in the letter the resources I've found, my story, my hope and prayers for them, and include a meeting list and just see if anyone ever shows up . . . (also my Bishop is going to send out the email copies of the 12 step family book and the SAlifeline link for their "Understanding Pornography" book.)
Anyway, I couldn't sleep last night 'cause I was composing this letter in my head.
Any suggestions? Would you do it? Do you think it would be useful?
Here's what I'm considering . . . I want to explain my situation a little, what the 12 step program has meant to my husband and I, then extend an open invitation for any woman struggling with this in her life to meet at a specific meeting. Our Relief Society has temple groups, where people meet up at someone's house and all carpool to the temple. I want to create a similar group for recovery meetings. Women who can meet up and carpool and get together (maybe go get frozen yogurt afterwards or something even). I want to basically bear testimony through this letter that this program may as well be called, "How to tap in to the power of the atonement" and how much healing is there and how if they are struggling with this at all in their lives, they need to be there. They will meet and find their Savior in these meetings, in this manual.
What do you think?
Would it have helped you in stage before you went to meetings or if you haven't been to them before, to start attending? Would you go with sisters from your Ward?
What would you write in a letter to your Relief Society sisters?
I am willing to be the Ward 'support group point person' if that's what it takes to help women get involved in this program and find their own healing. I feel like this is what I am here to do right now. My husband has also told the Bishop he is also happy to have the Bishop send men/young men (with their parents) his way with questions about the program and the 12 steps. We don't feel good about putting it out there to the whole Ward, but we do feel a call to be there for people who are actively struggling with this. It makes me a little nervous that it would 'get around', but I'm hoping just among women/men who are dealing with this in their own lives. The other option is just share in the letter the resources I've found, my story, my hope and prayers for them, and include a meeting list and just see if anyone ever shows up . . . (also my Bishop is going to send out the email copies of the 12 step family book and the SAlifeline link for their "Understanding Pornography" book.)
Anyway, I couldn't sleep last night 'cause I was composing this letter in my head.
Any suggestions? Would you do it? Do you think it would be useful?
Monday, May 21, 2012
Marriage
On facebook, a friend reported this quote from her Stake Conference yesterday: "Marriage is not a free ride on the happy
wagon. We should immediately be tipped off by the fact that marriage is
performed across an alter. Things bleed and die on alters. Things like
selfishness and pride."
Sunday, May 20, 2012
Reminder
I was stressing about getting my temple recommend renewed -- it expires the end of this month, and between Mother's Day, Memorial Day Weekend, and then today being my daughter's birthday party with all the extended family gathering at my house, there seemed to be no good time to get over to the Stake President's office for an interview. Add to that, they don't do recommend interviews on the first Sunday of the month, and because of Stake Conference they wouldn't be doing it the second week of the month either.
Now, logically, I could just let my temple recommend expire the end of May, and get a new one in mid-June and only go a couple weeks without being able to attend the temple. And, well, it's not like my temple attendance is super stellar (I have four young kids, including one that's nursing, so my once a month right now is pretty darn impressive for me.) It wouldn't really affect me to have a lapsed recommend for a few weeks.
Except that it was making my stomach all knotted and icky feeling. We're already down one temple recommend between us around these parts anyway, and I just didn't like the idea of neither of us being able to attend, even if (chances are) I wasn't going to be going in those few weeks anyway.
So, I ditched my in-laws, siblings, parents and kids right as dinner started to get over to the Stake offices during the one hour block on Sunday evenings that is dedicated to temple recommend interviews. I got there and silently moaned, there were easily a dozen people there in front of me. I still wasn't quite sure why I was missing my kids' birthday party to be here, waiting forever for a few minutes with a member of the Stake Presidency. I did have a couple thoughts floating around in my head -- how I hoped my interview would be with the Stake President himself, and not one of his two (very nice) counselors, since the Stake President is one of the warmest, sweetest, most grandfatherly men I've ever met. I also secretly wanted to ask him for a blessing, since I realized sitting there I haven't asked for once since this latest round of disclosures over a month ago. But, there was a line of people, and I knew I couldn't ask him to take the time.
Anyway, I watched as the crowd slowly thinned, keeping my fingers crossed that when it was my turn it would be with the Stake President. And lo and behold, it worked out that way. I sat across from him in two chairs facing each other in the corner of his office. With no paper in front of him, he started to ask me the temple recommend questions. Having just answered the same questions not four hours before with the second counselor in our Bishopric, it was all very routine. Until he asked the last question that is typically asked, then stopped, smiled and said, "I have one more question." I was a bit surprised, since the interview is standard and I wasn't expecting anything different than any other time I've had this same interview. "HX, do you know how much your Heavenly Father loves you?"
I started to cry.
"I think I do," I said. " I'm trying to remember that, I know He does. I just . . . well . . . I just want Him to speak up sometimes. I mean, I know that's not how it works, it's just I can hear all this ugliness being hurled at me, lies I hear inside my head, and I just want to hear God above it all. I want Him to be louder than all that. But, for now, I'm working every day to try to get closer to where I need to be so I can hear the small and quiet ways God tells me that He loves me. But sometimes, I want Him to speak up . . . " I whimpered into the tissue he'd just handed me.
"Well, we just experienced that . . . this is not something I typically ask in one of these interviews. God just wanted you to know how much He loves you. How valuable you are to Him. He loves you so much, and he's proud of you. Now stand up and give me a hug." (Seriously, the cutest little grandfatherly man you've ever met.)
Sometimes, God speaks up. And I couldn't be more grateful.
Now, logically, I could just let my temple recommend expire the end of May, and get a new one in mid-June and only go a couple weeks without being able to attend the temple. And, well, it's not like my temple attendance is super stellar (I have four young kids, including one that's nursing, so my once a month right now is pretty darn impressive for me.) It wouldn't really affect me to have a lapsed recommend for a few weeks.
Except that it was making my stomach all knotted and icky feeling. We're already down one temple recommend between us around these parts anyway, and I just didn't like the idea of neither of us being able to attend, even if (chances are) I wasn't going to be going in those few weeks anyway.
So, I ditched my in-laws, siblings, parents and kids right as dinner started to get over to the Stake offices during the one hour block on Sunday evenings that is dedicated to temple recommend interviews. I got there and silently moaned, there were easily a dozen people there in front of me. I still wasn't quite sure why I was missing my kids' birthday party to be here, waiting forever for a few minutes with a member of the Stake Presidency. I did have a couple thoughts floating around in my head -- how I hoped my interview would be with the Stake President himself, and not one of his two (very nice) counselors, since the Stake President is one of the warmest, sweetest, most grandfatherly men I've ever met. I also secretly wanted to ask him for a blessing, since I realized sitting there I haven't asked for once since this latest round of disclosures over a month ago. But, there was a line of people, and I knew I couldn't ask him to take the time.
Anyway, I watched as the crowd slowly thinned, keeping my fingers crossed that when it was my turn it would be with the Stake President. And lo and behold, it worked out that way. I sat across from him in two chairs facing each other in the corner of his office. With no paper in front of him, he started to ask me the temple recommend questions. Having just answered the same questions not four hours before with the second counselor in our Bishopric, it was all very routine. Until he asked the last question that is typically asked, then stopped, smiled and said, "I have one more question." I was a bit surprised, since the interview is standard and I wasn't expecting anything different than any other time I've had this same interview. "HX, do you know how much your Heavenly Father loves you?"
I started to cry.
"I think I do," I said. " I'm trying to remember that, I know He does. I just . . . well . . . I just want Him to speak up sometimes. I mean, I know that's not how it works, it's just I can hear all this ugliness being hurled at me, lies I hear inside my head, and I just want to hear God above it all. I want Him to be louder than all that. But, for now, I'm working every day to try to get closer to where I need to be so I can hear the small and quiet ways God tells me that He loves me. But sometimes, I want Him to speak up . . . " I whimpered into the tissue he'd just handed me.
"Well, we just experienced that . . . this is not something I typically ask in one of these interviews. God just wanted you to know how much He loves you. How valuable you are to Him. He loves you so much, and he's proud of you. Now stand up and give me a hug." (Seriously, the cutest little grandfatherly man you've ever met.)
Sometimes, God speaks up. And I couldn't be more grateful.
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Gratitute Attitude
I'm a big believe that 'counting our blessings' is one of the surest ways to get past heartache and pain and feeling down. I'm better in theory at this than in practice, unfortunately.
So, I've been working on it. And I'm starting to see the results. I bought little 3x4" notebooks for J and I, and each night, we say prayers together, then personal prayers, than we climb up on the bed, open our scripture cases and each of us write one page in our little notebook, entirely of things we're grateful for, before we read scriptures. I can write a list of 8-12 things, or a five or so sentences, or three or four longer thoughts, on one page. Each night, we take that 2 minutes or so and fill one page each, in our respective 'Gratitude Journals'. Some days are easier than others, some days I stick with the 'basics' (my husband, kids, home, etc.) Some days, and they're happening more often, I'm thinking of blessings I almost missed. Little things that happened during the day that made my day easier or better. People who come into my day, even just for a minute or so, that helped me along my way. Overall attitudes and feelings and emotions that are improving. I'm really noticing that my 'downs' are not as low, nor are they lasting as long. I'm 'bouncing back' from painful reminders, hard conversations and random triggers quicker and with less heartaches. I'm thinking about the 'bad stuff' less often, and just going about my day without the ever present 'my husband is a porn addict' fears playing on repeat in the back of my head. I'm noticing this change because of my gratitude journal.
Some nights, J shares with me what he wrote. This has been interesting for me too. He's actually writing that he's grateful that I come to him in my pain, grateful for the hard conversations that prove that in a real way I still trust him with my heart, for the reminder that he can do hard things. He's grateful for the grueling projects he's been working on at work -- they're giving him a real sense of purpose and accomplishment. He's grateful for our kids. I think he obviously already knew that, but writing it out, writing why he is so grateful for them, has been an eye opener for him. He knew he loved the kids, but there was this selfish part of him that resented them -- resented the attention they 'stole' from him (mainly from me), resented the additional responsibilities in his life, resented coming home after a long day to kids who wanted nothing more than to crawl all over him like a jungle gym. Don't get me wrong, he's always been a loving and attentive Dad, but the part of him that he's kept buried for so long was getting bogged down in the negative emotions that surround the additional time and effort the kids take on both of our parts. It's a lot easier for him to look back at 'what we used to have', just the two of us, and just focus on what the kids have 'taken away' from us than what they've added to our lives. The last couple weeks, as he's given voice to his gratitude, he's realized how much they brighten up his life. He wrote last night how our three year old little girl saw him working in the backyard on a sprinkler project, and she told her friends they had to go home, 'cause she was gonna go help her Daddy. She came running outside a minute later complete with an Elmo tool belt on, ready to work alongside her Dad. All three older kids run to him when he gets home, enveloping him in hugs and kisses and wanting his attention. He's written about bad days at work being brightened when he came home and the kids squeal with delight at his mere presence. He's written about how unconditional their love is for him -- and if they love him this much, how much more does his perfect Father in Heaven love him?
So, the gratitude journal idea is definitely a keeper in our house. (In fact, I ran to Staples the other day and bought an 12-pack of the small notebooks so we don't ever run out!) :-)
Another thing I'm trying to do is show my gratitude to J. We've realized in the last couple weeks just how much I was pulling away. To protect myself, and my heart, I no longer went to him with my problems, my day, my joys or my life. I was keeping my distance. We hadn't realized how much so until we started talking all of this out. I was also taking him for granted. Sure, I've been hurt, but he's also been such a hands on Father, helpful around the house and with cooking, always there to do little things for me. So, I was having him get me glasses of water, make the kids dinner when I didn't feel like it, rub my feet when I was pregnant -- none of these are unrealistic expectations of a partner -- but I wasn't reciprocating any of these little things. I was letting him do it all, because as I saw it, he owed me. He'd hurt me, shattered all my trust, made me doubt myself and my worth -- he owed me. (And we see right there why women need recovery work as much as men!)
So, the last couple weeks I've been really working to let him know how much I appreciate him. I tell him every night the things that mean so much to me -- everything from going to meetings, to calling me during the day, to helping with the kids when he gets home so I can nurse in peace for once. I've started shooting him a text message or two a day, with random, but specific, things that I appreciate or love about him. And giving voice to these things is making me more aware of all the things he does so right, where I was so focused on all the things he was doing wrong for so long. It's been good for both of us -- he has an added sense of who he is and how he contributes to our family and my happiness, and not just be bogged down in the damage that's been done.
So, in short, gratitude = good. And I'm working on it.
So, I've been working on it. And I'm starting to see the results. I bought little 3x4" notebooks for J and I, and each night, we say prayers together, then personal prayers, than we climb up on the bed, open our scripture cases and each of us write one page in our little notebook, entirely of things we're grateful for, before we read scriptures. I can write a list of 8-12 things, or a five or so sentences, or three or four longer thoughts, on one page. Each night, we take that 2 minutes or so and fill one page each, in our respective 'Gratitude Journals'. Some days are easier than others, some days I stick with the 'basics' (my husband, kids, home, etc.) Some days, and they're happening more often, I'm thinking of blessings I almost missed. Little things that happened during the day that made my day easier or better. People who come into my day, even just for a minute or so, that helped me along my way. Overall attitudes and feelings and emotions that are improving. I'm really noticing that my 'downs' are not as low, nor are they lasting as long. I'm 'bouncing back' from painful reminders, hard conversations and random triggers quicker and with less heartaches. I'm thinking about the 'bad stuff' less often, and just going about my day without the ever present 'my husband is a porn addict' fears playing on repeat in the back of my head. I'm noticing this change because of my gratitude journal.
Some nights, J shares with me what he wrote. This has been interesting for me too. He's actually writing that he's grateful that I come to him in my pain, grateful for the hard conversations that prove that in a real way I still trust him with my heart, for the reminder that he can do hard things. He's grateful for the grueling projects he's been working on at work -- they're giving him a real sense of purpose and accomplishment. He's grateful for our kids. I think he obviously already knew that, but writing it out, writing why he is so grateful for them, has been an eye opener for him. He knew he loved the kids, but there was this selfish part of him that resented them -- resented the attention they 'stole' from him (mainly from me), resented the additional responsibilities in his life, resented coming home after a long day to kids who wanted nothing more than to crawl all over him like a jungle gym. Don't get me wrong, he's always been a loving and attentive Dad, but the part of him that he's kept buried for so long was getting bogged down in the negative emotions that surround the additional time and effort the kids take on both of our parts. It's a lot easier for him to look back at 'what we used to have', just the two of us, and just focus on what the kids have 'taken away' from us than what they've added to our lives. The last couple weeks, as he's given voice to his gratitude, he's realized how much they brighten up his life. He wrote last night how our three year old little girl saw him working in the backyard on a sprinkler project, and she told her friends they had to go home, 'cause she was gonna go help her Daddy. She came running outside a minute later complete with an Elmo tool belt on, ready to work alongside her Dad. All three older kids run to him when he gets home, enveloping him in hugs and kisses and wanting his attention. He's written about bad days at work being brightened when he came home and the kids squeal with delight at his mere presence. He's written about how unconditional their love is for him -- and if they love him this much, how much more does his perfect Father in Heaven love him?
So, the gratitude journal idea is definitely a keeper in our house. (In fact, I ran to Staples the other day and bought an 12-pack of the small notebooks so we don't ever run out!) :-)
Another thing I'm trying to do is show my gratitude to J. We've realized in the last couple weeks just how much I was pulling away. To protect myself, and my heart, I no longer went to him with my problems, my day, my joys or my life. I was keeping my distance. We hadn't realized how much so until we started talking all of this out. I was also taking him for granted. Sure, I've been hurt, but he's also been such a hands on Father, helpful around the house and with cooking, always there to do little things for me. So, I was having him get me glasses of water, make the kids dinner when I didn't feel like it, rub my feet when I was pregnant -- none of these are unrealistic expectations of a partner -- but I wasn't reciprocating any of these little things. I was letting him do it all, because as I saw it, he owed me. He'd hurt me, shattered all my trust, made me doubt myself and my worth -- he owed me. (And we see right there why women need recovery work as much as men!)
So, the last couple weeks I've been really working to let him know how much I appreciate him. I tell him every night the things that mean so much to me -- everything from going to meetings, to calling me during the day, to helping with the kids when he gets home so I can nurse in peace for once. I've started shooting him a text message or two a day, with random, but specific, things that I appreciate or love about him. And giving voice to these things is making me more aware of all the things he does so right, where I was so focused on all the things he was doing wrong for so long. It's been good for both of us -- he has an added sense of who he is and how he contributes to our family and my happiness, and not just be bogged down in the damage that's been done.
So, in short, gratitude = good. And I'm working on it.
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Hope and Peace (and Mother's Day)
I was reading my scriptures last night, writing thoughts and notes in a notebook next to me, when I suddenly jotted down (having nothing to do with what I was reading):
That said, I hope you all had good Mother's Days. Mine was obviously hard, but we got some things out on the table, and it was good. We've discussed how either of us bottling things up is counterproductive -- on the flip side, if we are able to drag out negative feelings, fears, weaknesses, and examine them, give them a name, destroy the lie or secret surrounding it, we can put it behind us and start working on getting better much quicker than if we don't talk about it. Sunday was a lot of talking about painful things. It started in the morning when I watched an LDS video about how father's should raise their daughters. There were lots of fun triggers -- the whole 'loving their mother' thing -- words like 'loyalty' (viewing thousands upon thousands of naked women, lusting after my friends and our neighbors and ward members just because they happen to like jogging, etc -- not exactly loyal), and the big one, teaching your daughter about her value as a woman. I hit a low as I realized that my sweet, loving husband, who is really such a good man, has screwed with his view of women to such an extreme that if he doesn't change, how can he ever effectively teach our daughters their value as women. He objectifies and exploits at any opportunity, and has for years, and there has to be a complete change of heart and learning how to see women as Daughters of God, not parts and pieces, if we have any hope of him being the Dad he needs to be to our children. I was crushed as I watched the video, sobbing when my husband walked in with my french toast for Mother's Day breakfast. We talked, and I felt bad about how sad he looked all through Church. We had a pretty good day with family, talking with my little brother who's on his mission, seeing both of our Mothers and most of our Grandmothers. That evening though, we got back to the conversation about his objectification of women, and how this makes me feel about him in terms of his ability to father our daughters. It was ugly. I mentioned things I've never dared too. I stopped often to reassure him that I love him, that I'm not trying to bring him down or shame him, but these are legitimate fears I've been wrestling with, and he kept assuring me to keep talking. Does he draw the line when he's watching women out in public to only adult women? Or does he just notice breasts wherever he can find them in tight or low cut clothes? (And how far gone is the ability to see women as people, and not just parts, if he is indiscriminately looking for breasts no matter who they're on? Are there boundaries, or is he so far gone he notices any breasts -- my sisters? His? Teenagers in the Ward?) (And these were not questions I had him actually answer -- I was expressing my fears surrounding the topic, not drilling him.) What does this mean for our daughters -- we're 7 years from teenagers -- if he hasn't relearned how to view women, are my daughters in danger of being objectified by their own father? Will he not be able to keep himself from looking at their breasts, just like how he can't help but stare at the busty woman he passes in the grocery store, despite holding our son in one arm and my hand with the other? What about their teenage friends who will come to our house? Isn't it bad enough I have to worry about him staring at the neighborhood Moms, but one day I'll need to worry about my daughter's fourteen year old friends who come over? Will he learn and change that women are so much more than their breasts, their bodies? What if he's not there yet once our own kids have those bodies? Could I even keep them in the same home with him? I told him my darkest thoughts, how sometimes I just think how much better off the kids and I would be if we just got in a car accident or some other tragedy, and I wouldn't have to drag them through this world of filth and objectification -- don't worry, I do NOT regularly have thoughts like this, but at my lowest, it's been there. What were the chances that 20 years from now, our own daughters would be going through this same thing? What if their husbands did this to their wives? What if our sons did it to their wives? How can I assure anything better for my kids, how can I spare them this pain, how would we feel if our kids were in our same situation?
This was one of our ugliest conversations to date. It was gross and icky to pull out all my deepest fears, to really give voice to the fact he has fundamentally changed how he views women. How the way he views women is not appropriate or acceptable or congruent with raising daughters of his own (or with him being the man he wants to be).
Oddly, I think you'd be surprised how loving this conversation was. It was ugly, and horrible in a lot of ways, but there was a strong spirit of love and support on both sides. He was right there with me. Looking me in the eyes. Scared, like I am, but fully there for me in my pain. I was there to tell him that this doesn't define who he is, how much more he is than this.
Sometimes I love the honesty. I need it from him, crave it. It's healing to me. Sometimes it scares the crap out of me. He's honestly shared with me how hard he's working, how hard this is, and how he's giving it his all -- but there is this one voice in him that's telling him to go back, to lie -- and how part of him wants to listen to that voice.
That's scary. But reassuring. He's telling me what the addiction is telling him, so that it doesn't have as much power. But, man, I wish it wasn't there. In some ways, I wish I didn't know that my husband wants porn and filth and the way it makes him feel. I wish I didn't know he has a hard time taking the kids out on a walk without seeking out women working in the yard or jogging. But I'm glad I do know, because it means he's telling me his most painful secrets. He's trying to strip their power.
So yeah, Mother's Day wasn't the warmest and fuzziest of experiences. My kids were cute, sang beautifully in Sacrament meeting, the baby even took a good nap. But, I got caught up and bogged down with the ugliness in my life, and not all the beautiful things. I need to be more careful about that. But, I woke up the next morning refreshed and renewed. Cleansed of my deepest fears, that purged gunk no longer weighing me down. I took my husband's hand as we had our morning prayers, looked him in the eye and told him I loved him and was proud of him. After he stood up and he grabbed his '30 day recovery chip' off the nightstand and stuck it in his wallet and said, "Here's to 43 days . . . " and left for work. I really am happy with my life. The pain is becoming more productive and less present. I am including God in my life every day. My children will be so much better off for both of us working through all these issues. The fact I could have a gut wrenching conversation about the scariest aspects of my husband's addiction in the evening, then wake up feeling full of hope and peace is a real testament to me of the power of God, the power of honesty, and the atonement.
And next year, Mother's Day is going to be better. :-)
Hope and peace sometimes ebbs and flows. I wish these were constant companions, and I will get there one day, but for now I'm seeing that I'm steadily moving in the right direction. The downs aren't lasting as long. Hope is prevailing.I realized after I wrote that how true it was. Oh, how I wish I wasn't an emotional wreck that spent Mother's Day morning, then evening, in tears in my husband's lap. But, these painful realizations and conversations come in waves that once they've rolled past, I'm fairly 'done' with them. We talked about some excruciatingly painful things on Sunday, and by Monday morning, I had put them behind me and was feeling real peace. What a wonderful blessing -- to not be bogged down in painful emotions for days. All day yesterday my husband would call and ask how I was doing, like he often does after we've had a painful conversation the night before. "I'm good," I'd assure him, and I don't know if he fully believed me. But I really was. He was reeling from our last conversation far more than I was, and that's unusual, and (I think) really good progress for both of us. (Me not dwelling and wallowing in painful things, and him actually having to feel them and deal with them and those painful things sticking with him longer than just during the immediate conversation about them.)
That said, I hope you all had good Mother's Days. Mine was obviously hard, but we got some things out on the table, and it was good. We've discussed how either of us bottling things up is counterproductive -- on the flip side, if we are able to drag out negative feelings, fears, weaknesses, and examine them, give them a name, destroy the lie or secret surrounding it, we can put it behind us and start working on getting better much quicker than if we don't talk about it. Sunday was a lot of talking about painful things. It started in the morning when I watched an LDS video about how father's should raise their daughters. There were lots of fun triggers -- the whole 'loving their mother' thing -- words like 'loyalty' (viewing thousands upon thousands of naked women, lusting after my friends and our neighbors and ward members just because they happen to like jogging, etc -- not exactly loyal), and the big one, teaching your daughter about her value as a woman. I hit a low as I realized that my sweet, loving husband, who is really such a good man, has screwed with his view of women to such an extreme that if he doesn't change, how can he ever effectively teach our daughters their value as women. He objectifies and exploits at any opportunity, and has for years, and there has to be a complete change of heart and learning how to see women as Daughters of God, not parts and pieces, if we have any hope of him being the Dad he needs to be to our children. I was crushed as I watched the video, sobbing when my husband walked in with my french toast for Mother's Day breakfast. We talked, and I felt bad about how sad he looked all through Church. We had a pretty good day with family, talking with my little brother who's on his mission, seeing both of our Mothers and most of our Grandmothers. That evening though, we got back to the conversation about his objectification of women, and how this makes me feel about him in terms of his ability to father our daughters. It was ugly. I mentioned things I've never dared too. I stopped often to reassure him that I love him, that I'm not trying to bring him down or shame him, but these are legitimate fears I've been wrestling with, and he kept assuring me to keep talking. Does he draw the line when he's watching women out in public to only adult women? Or does he just notice breasts wherever he can find them in tight or low cut clothes? (And how far gone is the ability to see women as people, and not just parts, if he is indiscriminately looking for breasts no matter who they're on? Are there boundaries, or is he so far gone he notices any breasts -- my sisters? His? Teenagers in the Ward?) (And these were not questions I had him actually answer -- I was expressing my fears surrounding the topic, not drilling him.) What does this mean for our daughters -- we're 7 years from teenagers -- if he hasn't relearned how to view women, are my daughters in danger of being objectified by their own father? Will he not be able to keep himself from looking at their breasts, just like how he can't help but stare at the busty woman he passes in the grocery store, despite holding our son in one arm and my hand with the other? What about their teenage friends who will come to our house? Isn't it bad enough I have to worry about him staring at the neighborhood Moms, but one day I'll need to worry about my daughter's fourteen year old friends who come over? Will he learn and change that women are so much more than their breasts, their bodies? What if he's not there yet once our own kids have those bodies? Could I even keep them in the same home with him? I told him my darkest thoughts, how sometimes I just think how much better off the kids and I would be if we just got in a car accident or some other tragedy, and I wouldn't have to drag them through this world of filth and objectification -- don't worry, I do NOT regularly have thoughts like this, but at my lowest, it's been there. What were the chances that 20 years from now, our own daughters would be going through this same thing? What if their husbands did this to their wives? What if our sons did it to their wives? How can I assure anything better for my kids, how can I spare them this pain, how would we feel if our kids were in our same situation?
This was one of our ugliest conversations to date. It was gross and icky to pull out all my deepest fears, to really give voice to the fact he has fundamentally changed how he views women. How the way he views women is not appropriate or acceptable or congruent with raising daughters of his own (or with him being the man he wants to be).
Oddly, I think you'd be surprised how loving this conversation was. It was ugly, and horrible in a lot of ways, but there was a strong spirit of love and support on both sides. He was right there with me. Looking me in the eyes. Scared, like I am, but fully there for me in my pain. I was there to tell him that this doesn't define who he is, how much more he is than this.
Sometimes I love the honesty. I need it from him, crave it. It's healing to me. Sometimes it scares the crap out of me. He's honestly shared with me how hard he's working, how hard this is, and how he's giving it his all -- but there is this one voice in him that's telling him to go back, to lie -- and how part of him wants to listen to that voice.
That's scary. But reassuring. He's telling me what the addiction is telling him, so that it doesn't have as much power. But, man, I wish it wasn't there. In some ways, I wish I didn't know that my husband wants porn and filth and the way it makes him feel. I wish I didn't know he has a hard time taking the kids out on a walk without seeking out women working in the yard or jogging. But I'm glad I do know, because it means he's telling me his most painful secrets. He's trying to strip their power.
So yeah, Mother's Day wasn't the warmest and fuzziest of experiences. My kids were cute, sang beautifully in Sacrament meeting, the baby even took a good nap. But, I got caught up and bogged down with the ugliness in my life, and not all the beautiful things. I need to be more careful about that. But, I woke up the next morning refreshed and renewed. Cleansed of my deepest fears, that purged gunk no longer weighing me down. I took my husband's hand as we had our morning prayers, looked him in the eye and told him I loved him and was proud of him. After he stood up and he grabbed his '30 day recovery chip' off the nightstand and stuck it in his wallet and said, "Here's to 43 days . . . " and left for work. I really am happy with my life. The pain is becoming more productive and less present. I am including God in my life every day. My children will be so much better off for both of us working through all these issues. The fact I could have a gut wrenching conversation about the scariest aspects of my husband's addiction in the evening, then wake up feeling full of hope and peace is a real testament to me of the power of God, the power of honesty, and the atonement.
And next year, Mother's Day is going to be better. :-)
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
Sex and Trust and Boundaries (Oh My!)
So, sex and trust seem to be hot topics right now on everyone's blogs. Not surprisingly, we're dealing with the same topics here too. This last couple weeks have been interesting, because J and I are both really seeing the damage done, the deep affects that have been had on our sexual relationship and how those tie in to trust.
When J started recovery this time around, seriously attending meetings (three times a week for the last month) and trying to get real and honest for once, he decided we needed to take sex off the table. For three months. He needed to seriously figure out the difference between lust and passion, unblur lines between our marital relationship and the porn. This was not an easy decision for him, and frankly I was kinda shocked he came up with the idea on his own.
I've been grateful though.
Really grateful.
I knew I hadn't been enjoying sex for awhile now. I knew I wanted to avoid it, but tended to just 'go with it' 2-3 times a week, despite the fact it was getting increasingly uncomfortable (instead of less uncomfortable, as I was three months out from having our last baby (this baby had also been my first c-section, after three vaginal births, so I'd been surprised how much sex was kinda hurting this time around). I knew I felt used and gross afterwards, despite the fact he never tried to bring anything blatantly porn-like in to our sex life. I told him the other day that there were so many times I just felt like he needed a warm body there, especially since he rarely masturbates with his porn use, as a 'receptacle'. It's sounds horrible, and crude, but it was how I was feeling. He cried when I told him that. He hadn't realized how far we'd drifted apart, especially when it came to sex. How little I was getting from it -- and in fact, how much I was resenting it. I didn't really get it either, I blamed it on new baby hormones, despite the fact this has been a long time coming and this area of our marriage has been slowly deteriorating through the years of lies and his porn use. I knew I recoiled ever so slightly when he reached for me, especially when it was less sweet and more 'grope-y' feeling. I avoided kissing him. Sex almost never included making out, or even kissing anymore. (On my part, not his -- I was the one avoiding looking him in the eye or the intimate contact that comes with kissing). I was becoming increasingly irritable when he'd reach out and touch me, especially when it was inappropriately out in public (I'd smack his hand a way and remind him that there were other people around, for the love . . . I've been fighting this battle for years) I felt like he was lying to me, when I asked him if the porn was back and he said 'no'. It was back, he was lying, and I'm kicking myself that I didn't believe what my gut was trying to tell me.
My heart still breaks when I think of how much I loved sex when we got married. And how there's part of me right now that thinks I could go the rest of my life without it.
But, the 'break' has been good. We're so cuddly and close and he's so much more respectful of my personal boundaries and my body, and I'm not afraid to reach out to hold his hand or kiss him without wondering if I was just 'starting something' I didn't want to finish later. There's part of me that even wants to have sex with him again -- but at least in part that's 'cause I know I wouldn't actually have to, so it's easy to want it when I don't have to deal with the emotions of actually doing it.
He's having a hard time. Since he's over a month 'sober', and four weeks in to us not having sex, he's not used to this lack of chemicals in his brain making life easier, emotions mellowed, stress relieved. He said last night he just wanted to have sex because then he wouldn't be so sad. I told him that's not bad, in and of itself, and I'm sure stress relief is just one of the many great benefits of worthy marital intimacy -- but for now, he has to learn to feel his emotions, deal with them (for once) and do it without the aide of his 'drug' of porn and sex. I keep wanting to 'help' him feel better, even thinking a few times, "maybe if we had sex . . . ", (I'm pretty sure this would be a classic example of codependency) but I'm really getting good at stepping back and just holding his hand and saying, "I am sorry you're hurting so bad, but I'm glad you're going through this the way you need to. Do you want to talk, write in your journal, or just take some time to yourself?"
I wrote up some boundaries that I felt were necessary for me to heal and I was surprised how much they revolved around sex (not so surprisingly, him being honest was the other big part). I don't completely understand how boundaries work and how to make them work, but this is what I've come up with -- am I on the right track? (I put any explanation for blogging purposes in italics).
When J started recovery this time around, seriously attending meetings (three times a week for the last month) and trying to get real and honest for once, he decided we needed to take sex off the table. For three months. He needed to seriously figure out the difference between lust and passion, unblur lines between our marital relationship and the porn. This was not an easy decision for him, and frankly I was kinda shocked he came up with the idea on his own.
I've been grateful though.
Really grateful.
I knew I hadn't been enjoying sex for awhile now. I knew I wanted to avoid it, but tended to just 'go with it' 2-3 times a week, despite the fact it was getting increasingly uncomfortable (instead of less uncomfortable, as I was three months out from having our last baby (this baby had also been my first c-section, after three vaginal births, so I'd been surprised how much sex was kinda hurting this time around). I knew I felt used and gross afterwards, despite the fact he never tried to bring anything blatantly porn-like in to our sex life. I told him the other day that there were so many times I just felt like he needed a warm body there, especially since he rarely masturbates with his porn use, as a 'receptacle'. It's sounds horrible, and crude, but it was how I was feeling. He cried when I told him that. He hadn't realized how far we'd drifted apart, especially when it came to sex. How little I was getting from it -- and in fact, how much I was resenting it. I didn't really get it either, I blamed it on new baby hormones, despite the fact this has been a long time coming and this area of our marriage has been slowly deteriorating through the years of lies and his porn use. I knew I recoiled ever so slightly when he reached for me, especially when it was less sweet and more 'grope-y' feeling. I avoided kissing him. Sex almost never included making out, or even kissing anymore. (On my part, not his -- I was the one avoiding looking him in the eye or the intimate contact that comes with kissing). I was becoming increasingly irritable when he'd reach out and touch me, especially when it was inappropriately out in public (I'd smack his hand a way and remind him that there were other people around, for the love . . . I've been fighting this battle for years) I felt like he was lying to me, when I asked him if the porn was back and he said 'no'. It was back, he was lying, and I'm kicking myself that I didn't believe what my gut was trying to tell me.
My heart still breaks when I think of how much I loved sex when we got married. And how there's part of me right now that thinks I could go the rest of my life without it.
But, the 'break' has been good. We're so cuddly and close and he's so much more respectful of my personal boundaries and my body, and I'm not afraid to reach out to hold his hand or kiss him without wondering if I was just 'starting something' I didn't want to finish later. There's part of me that even wants to have sex with him again -- but at least in part that's 'cause I know I wouldn't actually have to, so it's easy to want it when I don't have to deal with the emotions of actually doing it.
He's having a hard time. Since he's over a month 'sober', and four weeks in to us not having sex, he's not used to this lack of chemicals in his brain making life easier, emotions mellowed, stress relieved. He said last night he just wanted to have sex because then he wouldn't be so sad. I told him that's not bad, in and of itself, and I'm sure stress relief is just one of the many great benefits of worthy marital intimacy -- but for now, he has to learn to feel his emotions, deal with them (for once) and do it without the aide of his 'drug' of porn and sex. I keep wanting to 'help' him feel better, even thinking a few times, "maybe if we had sex . . . ", (I'm pretty sure this would be a classic example of codependency) but I'm really getting good at stepping back and just holding his hand and saying, "I am sorry you're hurting so bad, but I'm glad you're going through this the way you need to. Do you want to talk, write in your journal, or just take some time to yourself?"
I wrote up some boundaries that I felt were necessary for me to heal and I was surprised how much they revolved around sex (not so surprisingly, him being honest was the other big part). I don't completely understand how boundaries work and how to make them work, but this is what I've come up with -- am I on the right track? (I put any explanation for blogging purposes in italics).
I need honesty, first and foremost. I need to not be kept in the dark. I am strong enough for, kind enough for, mature enough for and worth of the truth. To treat me otherwise is unacceptable, disrespectful and unfair to me.
I will need space to heal and process acting out or dishonesty.
1.) Acting out (defined as purposefully seeking images, videos, stories, whether clothed or nude, whether overtly sexual or just suggestive, or accidentally coming across these things and not changing the situation immediately.)
- 1 night of separate sleeping arrangements for the first incident (2 for second, 3 for third, etc.) The board is wiped clean with 12 weeks of sobriety. If we are spending large amounts of time (several weeks or a month or more) sleeping in separate beds or rooms, we may need to reevaluate living arrangements.
- One week without sex after disclosed incident, nonnegotiable on either of our parts, so we both have some time to deal with and work through what we're feeling without using sex to bypass any of what we both need to do to heal.
(I have often reached out with sex after a 'slip up' to assure him I still love him and accept him, blah, blah, blah).
2.) Lying about, hiding, incident(s) of acting out
- I will require significantly more space as this is the much harder, hurtful and damaging part for me.
- Sleep elsewhere for a minimum of two weeks (if the dishonesty has continued over a longer period of time, i.e. months, this may need to be increased.)
(J normally does well for awhile between times I've caught on to the fact he's looking at porn again, but once he starts up, he doesn't tell me until I figure it out again -- this means he has often gone 3-6 months of lying to my face, looking me in the eye and swearing up and down he's not looking at porn. This is obviously a huge sore spot for me, and I've been very clear that I will no longer accept dishonesty in our marriage as some small thing).
- Still come home in the evenings/weekend, to be with kids, having family meals, etc., but sleep elsewhere.
3.) Instigating sex after a period of any acting out without first informing me what has happened before having sex.
(This right here is one of my single most fragile areas of healing. SEVEN years ago, I told my husband he could not assume he could have sex with me after looking at porn and pretend that those two things aren't incompatible and unfair to me. SIX years ago I told him to NEVER again have sex with me when I didn't know he'd looked at porn that day (or any time beforehand without me knowing about it -- at that point in our marriage we were having sex daily, so he was looking at porn during the day and coming home and having sex with me the same day, and the mere thought of that makes me ill and I told him it had to end.) FIVE years ago, I told him once and for all, this had to stop happening. This was my boundary, this was practically SACRED to me, and he could not violate this trust any more without expecting it to destroy who I am and how I see our marriage. We have made no progress on this front, he's lied to me more times than I can count and has had sex with me the very day he's promised he hasn't looked at porn, when in reality he'd spent 6 hours looking at it at work before coming home. I am done with this. I will not accept being treated this way or having this in my sex life).
- For 7 years now I have tried to express just how important this is to me. This is nonnegotiable. I will NOT participate in any sex when I am not in possession of all the facts. It is unacceptable to have sex with me after looking at porn when I am unaware and unable to make an informed decision. I am saying 'NO' to any sex after porn without my verbal go ahead to proceed after I've been made fully aware of the incident. To proceed without that, when I am in the dark, is having sex with me when I have said 'no'. That is marital rape, and it is absolutely unacceptable in every way possible. I will not tolerate this in my life, ever again. I have put this as clearly as I can, and to make the choice to lie to me and proceed with sex, will result in dramatic and significant changes in our marriage.
- I would need significant time and space to feel safe again -- at least a month of living in separate homes. Complete separation, no family meals, children would need to 'visit' elsewhere, there would not be 'family activities' or time spent altogether. This would be a very real separation.
- This cannot ever happen again. It is so thoroughly and completely disgusting and degrading and disrespectful, that I cannot live with it in my life. I am not to EVER be made to feel 'used' for sex again -- and this is how I feel when you choose to have sex with me without telling me that you've been looking at porn again. Whether you feel that is what you are doing or not is not the point -- It is how I feel, and it makes me feel used, hurt and worthless and dirty. This will not happen again without serious and significant consequences to our marriage and relationship. I have never been as clear about it as I am now, so there are no excuses. I have said 'no' to sex any and every time you have looked at porn and not told me, you are not allowed to proceed with sex without my go ahead.
Saturday, May 5, 2012
Frustrated
Disclaimer: Please don't think I'm a bad wife who bad mouths her husband -- or that my husband is anything less than amazing -- I just really feel like beating my head against a brick wall right now and I figure some of you may understand what I'm going through . . .
OK, so maybe someone further along in recovery can help me out here -- what do you do (or how do you do nothing) when you can just see your husband being pulled in the wrong direction?
J has a good job, that he really likes most of the time. The schedule is great, at 7AM-4PM, he's home most days by 4:30PM, and even though he's salaried, he rarely has to work more than this. Then this week something major is going on at work, and he's been working 11-12 hour days most of the week, a full 17 hours yesterday, and he's going on 11 today and he doesn't know when he'll be out of there. And tomorrow's looking like a good possibility for another 10 hours or so. The last three days he's just been getting more and more tired and down. His Dad even called me today and said, "I just talked to J, he's not sounding so great . . ." My mother in law, when I was dating J, told me, "Out of all my kids, J was the least sick . . . but when he was sick, there was no doubting it. He was the most sick of them all. My poor baby." What I've found in the last 8 years is basically this; it's true, J isn't sick very often, but when he is, his Mom trained him to be as whiny, needy, clingy, moan-y, depressed, down, tired and mopey as humanly possible. (I have told my husband we will NOT be allowing our sons to behave like this when they are sick -- no future wife deserves it! He laughs. I am so not kidding.) That's the vibe I'm getting right now -- you talk to him and he sounds like he's on death's door. I mean, I do not doubt he is really tired and even overwhelmed. I keep telling him how grateful I am he works so hard for our family, I've baked him his favorite treats when he comes home (they're catering lunches and dinners at work, so he's covered there), we're going 90 days without sex, but I'm offering him back or foot rubs 'cause I really do want him to realize how much it means to me that he's working this hard. But every time I talk to him he just sounds so 'beaten'. I want to grab him by the shoulders and just shake him and say, "I know it's hard, and I really appreciate it -- but get over it! It's ONE week of working hard! You've ripped off hours and hours and hours from this company while searching for pictures and videos of naked women, look at this as a way you can make it up to them!" and mostly, "For the love of all that's holy, DO NOT USE THIS AS AN EXCUSE TO LOOK AT PORN." That's where it feels like he's at, all this mopey, this-is-so-much-I'm-so-tired-I-can-barely-function stuff is just paving himself a nice little road of excuses leading to porn.
I have a hard time with how much my husband has given himself over to laziness and apathy. Don't get me wrong, he's a brilliant man who accomplishes a lot. But he won't do anything that's hard unless forced, and he's gotten so entitled with work (like taking full days looking at porn instead of doing his job, among other things) and I find it so entirely unattractive. I had a Dad who had the most amazing work ethic -- having my husband cheat his employer out of time, never stay so much as a minute past when he's supposed to, even if there's more to do, even if he hasn't finished his job -- having projects around our house sit half finished for months, even years -- it's so very disappointing. And scary -- 'cause you know what else is hard -- porn addiction recovery. And he really, really avoids hard things.
I feel porn has stolen so much of his potential. I'm upset that he doesn't seem to expect much of himself. He's a genius, and he won't really apply himself to anything remotely difficult sounding.
And if he looks at porn at work today, I'm gonna be so frustrated. And angry. And hurt.
I don't know what to do -- and maybe that's the point, I can't do anything. Even if it feels like I'm staring at an oncoming train and know what's coming. Is it appropriate/helpful/hurtful/way off base to just point out that his mood and sudden onset of acting so depressed and tired is a good indication that he's especially vulnerable and he should be extra careful? Or is that trying to 'manage' him and his recovery in an unhelpful way?
Edited to add:
I find that by writing all this out, I really am working through it and getting to the bottom of what I'm 'really' feeling. So, I keep coming back and adding to what I wrote so I have it all down 'on paper' in one place of what I'm finding about myself and my feelings. Thanks so much for all of what you guys wrote! I took the suggestions and told him how uneasy I'd been feeling about his stress level with work. He says he's doing OK. I told him the reason I think it's stressing me out so much is the whole 'he doesn't like to do hard things' . . . he's complaining about how much it sucks to have to work this much, this hard, and all I can think about in the back of my head is, "But you owe them, you screwed them out of countless hours of work looking at porn, you should be happy to have the opportunity to make some of that up . . ." which then basically translates in my head to, "And if you don't think you owe them anything, need to make it up to them with what you took from your employer . . . does that mean you don't see a need to make things better for anyone you hurt or stole from or lied to?" See how talented I am -- I can totally make EVERYTHING about me :-) (At least I'm getting increasingly self-aware!) Anyway, we talked and he said that working this hard has actually been making him feel better, like he can accomplish big things, like he's useful to his employer -- but he's just been so tired, and he's not used to putting in these kind of hours and it's been hard. And he's been too busy to even think about looking at porn. Which is good.
Earlier yesterday I had also wrote pages and page in my journal for Step 2; it had a question about what I wanted God to heal in me, and when I started writing it went on for two pages, and when I was done I was shocked. I hadn't realized I had that many negative emotions and thoughts about myself and about my situation. On one hand it was good to purge it all, to start the process of giving it over to God . . . on the other hand, I was surprised at all the negative emotions I had been squashing down, and now having to feel them all since they were right there on paper, was difficult. I swear sometimes I feel like it's harder to feel bad than it is to just ignore everything -- but I know that doesn't work either. I talked about this with him too, and he read when I wrote. I think that was hard for him, he was really teared up reading all these feelings I have about myself since this has happened. It's hard for him (and me) to see in it that I don't trust him with my mental and emotional well being. On one hand this is good in my ever-increasing reliance on Christ, on the other it's hard 'cause I feel like I don't get from my marriage what I thought I was supposed to get.
He thanked me for coming to talk to him . . . he says it's hard sometimes to know how much he's hurt me and caused me to distrust him, even down to his work ethic, but when I come to him and let him be a part of getting it off my chest or feeling better, he feels like I trust him enough to let him help me. And he wants to help me. It makes him feel better to be a part of the 'solution', and when I come and talk to him and cry and get it all out, it's painful, but I feel better afterwards, and that makes him feel like he's helping repair some of the damage that's been caused . . .
OK, so maybe someone further along in recovery can help me out here -- what do you do (or how do you do nothing) when you can just see your husband being pulled in the wrong direction?
J has a good job, that he really likes most of the time. The schedule is great, at 7AM-4PM, he's home most days by 4:30PM, and even though he's salaried, he rarely has to work more than this. Then this week something major is going on at work, and he's been working 11-12 hour days most of the week, a full 17 hours yesterday, and he's going on 11 today and he doesn't know when he'll be out of there. And tomorrow's looking like a good possibility for another 10 hours or so. The last three days he's just been getting more and more tired and down. His Dad even called me today and said, "I just talked to J, he's not sounding so great . . ." My mother in law, when I was dating J, told me, "Out of all my kids, J was the least sick . . . but when he was sick, there was no doubting it. He was the most sick of them all. My poor baby." What I've found in the last 8 years is basically this; it's true, J isn't sick very often, but when he is, his Mom trained him to be as whiny, needy, clingy, moan-y, depressed, down, tired and mopey as humanly possible. (I have told my husband we will NOT be allowing our sons to behave like this when they are sick -- no future wife deserves it! He laughs. I am so not kidding.) That's the vibe I'm getting right now -- you talk to him and he sounds like he's on death's door. I mean, I do not doubt he is really tired and even overwhelmed. I keep telling him how grateful I am he works so hard for our family, I've baked him his favorite treats when he comes home (they're catering lunches and dinners at work, so he's covered there), we're going 90 days without sex, but I'm offering him back or foot rubs 'cause I really do want him to realize how much it means to me that he's working this hard. But every time I talk to him he just sounds so 'beaten'. I want to grab him by the shoulders and just shake him and say, "I know it's hard, and I really appreciate it -- but get over it! It's ONE week of working hard! You've ripped off hours and hours and hours from this company while searching for pictures and videos of naked women, look at this as a way you can make it up to them!" and mostly, "For the love of all that's holy, DO NOT USE THIS AS AN EXCUSE TO LOOK AT PORN." That's where it feels like he's at, all this mopey, this-is-so-much-I'm-so-tired-I-can-barely-function stuff is just paving himself a nice little road of excuses leading to porn.
I have a hard time with how much my husband has given himself over to laziness and apathy. Don't get me wrong, he's a brilliant man who accomplishes a lot. But he won't do anything that's hard unless forced, and he's gotten so entitled with work (like taking full days looking at porn instead of doing his job, among other things) and I find it so entirely unattractive. I had a Dad who had the most amazing work ethic -- having my husband cheat his employer out of time, never stay so much as a minute past when he's supposed to, even if there's more to do, even if he hasn't finished his job -- having projects around our house sit half finished for months, even years -- it's so very disappointing. And scary -- 'cause you know what else is hard -- porn addiction recovery. And he really, really avoids hard things.
I feel porn has stolen so much of his potential. I'm upset that he doesn't seem to expect much of himself. He's a genius, and he won't really apply himself to anything remotely difficult sounding.
And if he looks at porn at work today, I'm gonna be so frustrated. And angry. And hurt.
I don't know what to do -- and maybe that's the point, I can't do anything. Even if it feels like I'm staring at an oncoming train and know what's coming. Is it appropriate/helpful/hurtful/way off base to just point out that his mood and sudden onset of acting so depressed and tired is a good indication that he's especially vulnerable and he should be extra careful? Or is that trying to 'manage' him and his recovery in an unhelpful way?
Edited to add:
I find that by writing all this out, I really am working through it and getting to the bottom of what I'm 'really' feeling. So, I keep coming back and adding to what I wrote so I have it all down 'on paper' in one place of what I'm finding about myself and my feelings. Thanks so much for all of what you guys wrote! I took the suggestions and told him how uneasy I'd been feeling about his stress level with work. He says he's doing OK. I told him the reason I think it's stressing me out so much is the whole 'he doesn't like to do hard things' . . . he's complaining about how much it sucks to have to work this much, this hard, and all I can think about in the back of my head is, "But you owe them, you screwed them out of countless hours of work looking at porn, you should be happy to have the opportunity to make some of that up . . ." which then basically translates in my head to, "And if you don't think you owe them anything, need to make it up to them with what you took from your employer . . . does that mean you don't see a need to make things better for anyone you hurt or stole from or lied to?" See how talented I am -- I can totally make EVERYTHING about me :-) (At least I'm getting increasingly self-aware!) Anyway, we talked and he said that working this hard has actually been making him feel better, like he can accomplish big things, like he's useful to his employer -- but he's just been so tired, and he's not used to putting in these kind of hours and it's been hard. And he's been too busy to even think about looking at porn. Which is good.
Earlier yesterday I had also wrote pages and page in my journal for Step 2; it had a question about what I wanted God to heal in me, and when I started writing it went on for two pages, and when I was done I was shocked. I hadn't realized I had that many negative emotions and thoughts about myself and about my situation. On one hand it was good to purge it all, to start the process of giving it over to God . . . on the other hand, I was surprised at all the negative emotions I had been squashing down, and now having to feel them all since they were right there on paper, was difficult. I swear sometimes I feel like it's harder to feel bad than it is to just ignore everything -- but I know that doesn't work either. I talked about this with him too, and he read when I wrote. I think that was hard for him, he was really teared up reading all these feelings I have about myself since this has happened. It's hard for him (and me) to see in it that I don't trust him with my mental and emotional well being. On one hand this is good in my ever-increasing reliance on Christ, on the other it's hard 'cause I feel like I don't get from my marriage what I thought I was supposed to get.
He thanked me for coming to talk to him . . . he says it's hard sometimes to know how much he's hurt me and caused me to distrust him, even down to his work ethic, but when I come to him and let him be a part of getting it off my chest or feeling better, he feels like I trust him enough to let him help me. And he wants to help me. It makes him feel better to be a part of the 'solution', and when I come and talk to him and cry and get it all out, it's painful, but I feel better afterwards, and that makes him feel like he's helping repair some of the damage that's been caused . . .
Overly Wordy Response . . .
So, on Faithfully Jaded last night, there was a post that really resonated with me! I've been thinking a lot about some of the same things, so I started writing up a comment -- which turned out to be so ridiculously long that I decided to just post it here! ('Cause, you know, it wouldn't let me post it there in a single comment . . . how's that for wordy!)
Thanks for getting me thinking this morning Jaded!
Check it out:
http://faithfullyjaded.blogspot.com/2012/05/rebellious.html
My comment:
I have lots of thoughts about this :-) I totally get not watching stuff with the husband -- we don't tend to EVER watch movies together, and rarely TV. In fact, if he comes in while I'm watching something, I tend to turn it off. He used to watch more TV, but after last year's big disclosure, he actually pretty much stopped watching it. Occasionally he watches 'MythBusters' or something else on History or Discovery, but we don't watch any network prime time shows together. (We got rid of everything but basic cable, and without Food Network, and the fact he was trying to avoid triggers, he just stopped watching completely.) I watch a ton more TV -- between being home and nursing a baby (I watch a TON while nursing) I am definitely the main consumer of media in our household. I feel bad about it sometimes, hypocritical, 'cause I watch stuff I wouldn't be comfortable with him watching. I TOTALLY get what you're saying. It didn't bug me for a long time. Just lately though, I've been thinking about this, and praying about it, and have actually recently shaved a few shows off my hulu to-watch list. It made me a little sad the other day when the kids came in and I turned off what I was watching 'cause I didn't want them to see it (love scene, I think), and I realized that my kids are way more likely to be exposed to smut from me than from their Dad (who never watches porn at home.) Ugh, that was a bad feeling, and it's made me rethink some things . . . I am pretty sure I need to make some improvements in my media-diet, but man, I'm stubborn and willful and proud and just hate admitting where I'm off base :-) (Also, I thought of this, which freaked me out and now I have to give it more thought -- My husband shouldn't watch a lot of TV, 'cause commercials are practically pornographic, and he has a 'problem.' I don't have said problem, so I'm good. Isn't that my fundamental logic? Well, what if he was an alcoholic? He shouldn't drink because he has a problem with it, but then I'd be OK to, 'cause I don't have an issue, right? Except for the fact I'm raising four little kids, who are all offspring of said 'alcoholic', and for their sake, I would probably need to keep all alcohol out of the house . . . crap, I should probably spend some more time whittling down my hulu list again. I know it's an imperfect metaphor, but now it's stuck in my head.)
PG-13 movies -- don't get me started, I think they are sometimes WAY more evil than R movies. They're subversive, they're trying to sneak in as much crap as they can and still get in under the wire, so they're more suggestive and manipulative and icky, a lot of times. I think 'masking' stuff makes it more powerful than being honest about what's being portrayed, because we don't have our guards up as much and we let more 'seep' in. Does that make sense? I think 'no rated-R movies' is a checklist rule -- and we Mormons love checklists :-) No watching rated R movies, check. No drinking coffee, tea or smoking, check. Cover your shoulder and your legs down to your knees, check. Done, now I'm a good person. (sarcasm :-), just to be clear). We're much better than at the 'letter of the law' than we are the 'spirit' of the law . . . I think we all need to get to a place where we are led by the Spirit in our decisions (SO much easier said than done). Do we avoid things that deadens our senses, or drives a way the Spirit? Do we treasure our bodies and guard our health? (So easy for me to be proud about not smoking or drinking, but do I think twice when I feed my kids whole wheat waffles but down a handful of M&Ms myself for breakfast?) Do we present ourselves in a respectful, confident manner? Are we charitable, kind and trying to be more Christlike? I think these are questions God would much rather have us working on than checklists. My sister in law has HUGE issues with how we teach modesty in this Church -- the whole checklist mentality -- the other day she was mad 'cause some of her YW in her Illinois Ward were mocking one of the girls for wearing a sundress. My SIL said it was a beautiful, flow-y, feminine sundress that happened to show her (non-endowed) shoulders. The one girl who was ring leader of the teasing was wearing a Shade-like undershirt as a very tight, revealing top and wearing fishnets with boots and a tight skirt. My SIL is very 'live and let live' and hadn't thought twice about what either girl was wearing, but said she walked away SO annoyed that the girl in the far more revealing, suggestive outfit got to be up on some high horse because her shoulders were covered when the other girls' weren't, and how that's a really screwy standard of modesty, but how we really feed in to this 'checklist' mentality.
Long story short (too late) -- we all need to figure out where God wants us to be. We all won't get their overnight, but we can get there with small and gentle course corrections from the Spirit. And you know what, we can all be told different things and get there different ways! And we're all in different places! We'll make so much more of ourselves that way than by making checklists of all the things we are and aren't supposed to do. I think one of the most important things we learn in this life is to listen to, and obey, what the Spirit tells us -- and so we just listen for one thing each day that God tells us to do better, and eventually we end up better off. Crap, now I totally feel like there's another show I need to take off my hulu list -- at this rate I'm not going to have anything to watch! :-) And like I should stop saying 'crap' so often. But that isn't happening anytime soon. :-)
Anyway, that was way long winded :-) I've just been giving this a lot of thought lately, 'cause a couple weeks ago I noticed how different my standards were for him and me, and I've been wondering what changes I need to make while he's been so busy working to make changes in his life. Still such a work in progress. :-) Thanks for giving me more to think about :-) And I totally could relate to what you wrote!
Edited to add:
There was more discussion going on in the comments from Faithfully Jaded that I wanted to put here so I have 'em for myself -- it was good for me to write out some of my feelings about my own 'rebellion' . . . (hope you guys don't mind me copying and pasting it here!)
Jane wrote:
My Siblings and I have this discussion frequently regarding violence. Here are my thoughts. Bad language, violence, sex scenes all do the same thing. They all drive the spirit out of the room/home and our hearts. I think if you feel awkward watching sex scenes with you husband, trust your gut. Turn it off. Yes- the rated R rule seems a bit arbitrary and some people are hypocritical about the movies they choose. But there is a scripture in the Doctrine and Covenants that says "it is not meet that we be commanded in all things. " Do we really need the prophet to tell us to quit watching PG-13?
I have just made personal decisions about what I am willing to watch. I can't control what my husband watches but I want the Holy Ghost with me. I NEED the promptings of the spirit daily. I have personally given up a lot of tv shows and movies but to me it's worth it. I don't need to take any more risks regarding the atmosphere in my home.
I know that sounds super self-righteous. In the grand scheme of things a rated R movie isn't a big deal. In fact some of the ones I've seen have had redeeming and inspiring messages. But when Pete hit rock bottom I expected him to be willing to do whatever it took. And then when I found myself in the pits of despair I felt likewise.
I replied:
Thanks for getting me thinking this morning Jaded!
Check it out:
http://faithfullyjaded.blogspot.com/2012/05/rebellious.html
My comment:
I have lots of thoughts about this :-) I totally get not watching stuff with the husband -- we don't tend to EVER watch movies together, and rarely TV. In fact, if he comes in while I'm watching something, I tend to turn it off. He used to watch more TV, but after last year's big disclosure, he actually pretty much stopped watching it. Occasionally he watches 'MythBusters' or something else on History or Discovery, but we don't watch any network prime time shows together. (We got rid of everything but basic cable, and without Food Network, and the fact he was trying to avoid triggers, he just stopped watching completely.) I watch a ton more TV -- between being home and nursing a baby (I watch a TON while nursing) I am definitely the main consumer of media in our household. I feel bad about it sometimes, hypocritical, 'cause I watch stuff I wouldn't be comfortable with him watching. I TOTALLY get what you're saying. It didn't bug me for a long time. Just lately though, I've been thinking about this, and praying about it, and have actually recently shaved a few shows off my hulu to-watch list. It made me a little sad the other day when the kids came in and I turned off what I was watching 'cause I didn't want them to see it (love scene, I think), and I realized that my kids are way more likely to be exposed to smut from me than from their Dad (who never watches porn at home.) Ugh, that was a bad feeling, and it's made me rethink some things . . . I am pretty sure I need to make some improvements in my media-diet, but man, I'm stubborn and willful and proud and just hate admitting where I'm off base :-) (Also, I thought of this, which freaked me out and now I have to give it more thought -- My husband shouldn't watch a lot of TV, 'cause commercials are practically pornographic, and he has a 'problem.' I don't have said problem, so I'm good. Isn't that my fundamental logic? Well, what if he was an alcoholic? He shouldn't drink because he has a problem with it, but then I'd be OK to, 'cause I don't have an issue, right? Except for the fact I'm raising four little kids, who are all offspring of said 'alcoholic', and for their sake, I would probably need to keep all alcohol out of the house . . . crap, I should probably spend some more time whittling down my hulu list again. I know it's an imperfect metaphor, but now it's stuck in my head.)
PG-13 movies -- don't get me started, I think they are sometimes WAY more evil than R movies. They're subversive, they're trying to sneak in as much crap as they can and still get in under the wire, so they're more suggestive and manipulative and icky, a lot of times. I think 'masking' stuff makes it more powerful than being honest about what's being portrayed, because we don't have our guards up as much and we let more 'seep' in. Does that make sense? I think 'no rated-R movies' is a checklist rule -- and we Mormons love checklists :-) No watching rated R movies, check. No drinking coffee, tea or smoking, check. Cover your shoulder and your legs down to your knees, check. Done, now I'm a good person. (sarcasm :-), just to be clear). We're much better than at the 'letter of the law' than we are the 'spirit' of the law . . . I think we all need to get to a place where we are led by the Spirit in our decisions (SO much easier said than done). Do we avoid things that deadens our senses, or drives a way the Spirit? Do we treasure our bodies and guard our health? (So easy for me to be proud about not smoking or drinking, but do I think twice when I feed my kids whole wheat waffles but down a handful of M&Ms myself for breakfast?) Do we present ourselves in a respectful, confident manner? Are we charitable, kind and trying to be more Christlike? I think these are questions God would much rather have us working on than checklists. My sister in law has HUGE issues with how we teach modesty in this Church -- the whole checklist mentality -- the other day she was mad 'cause some of her YW in her Illinois Ward were mocking one of the girls for wearing a sundress. My SIL said it was a beautiful, flow-y, feminine sundress that happened to show her (non-endowed) shoulders. The one girl who was ring leader of the teasing was wearing a Shade-like undershirt as a very tight, revealing top and wearing fishnets with boots and a tight skirt. My SIL is very 'live and let live' and hadn't thought twice about what either girl was wearing, but said she walked away SO annoyed that the girl in the far more revealing, suggestive outfit got to be up on some high horse because her shoulders were covered when the other girls' weren't, and how that's a really screwy standard of modesty, but how we really feed in to this 'checklist' mentality.
Long story short (too late) -- we all need to figure out where God wants us to be. We all won't get their overnight, but we can get there with small and gentle course corrections from the Spirit. And you know what, we can all be told different things and get there different ways! And we're all in different places! We'll make so much more of ourselves that way than by making checklists of all the things we are and aren't supposed to do. I think one of the most important things we learn in this life is to listen to, and obey, what the Spirit tells us -- and so we just listen for one thing each day that God tells us to do better, and eventually we end up better off. Crap, now I totally feel like there's another show I need to take off my hulu list -- at this rate I'm not going to have anything to watch! :-) And like I should stop saying 'crap' so often. But that isn't happening anytime soon. :-)
Anyway, that was way long winded :-) I've just been giving this a lot of thought lately, 'cause a couple weeks ago I noticed how different my standards were for him and me, and I've been wondering what changes I need to make while he's been so busy working to make changes in his life. Still such a work in progress. :-) Thanks for giving me more to think about :-) And I totally could relate to what you wrote!
Edited to add:
There was more discussion going on in the comments from Faithfully Jaded that I wanted to put here so I have 'em for myself -- it was good for me to write out some of my feelings about my own 'rebellion' . . . (hope you guys don't mind me copying and pasting it here!)
Jane wrote:
My Siblings and I have this discussion frequently regarding violence. Here are my thoughts. Bad language, violence, sex scenes all do the same thing. They all drive the spirit out of the room/home and our hearts. I think if you feel awkward watching sex scenes with you husband, trust your gut. Turn it off. Yes- the rated R rule seems a bit arbitrary and some people are hypocritical about the movies they choose. But there is a scripture in the Doctrine and Covenants that says "it is not meet that we be commanded in all things. " Do we really need the prophet to tell us to quit watching PG-13?
I have just made personal decisions about what I am willing to watch. I can't control what my husband watches but I want the Holy Ghost with me. I NEED the promptings of the spirit daily. I have personally given up a lot of tv shows and movies but to me it's worth it. I don't need to take any more risks regarding the atmosphere in my home.
I know that sounds super self-righteous. In the grand scheme of things a rated R movie isn't a big deal. In fact some of the ones I've seen have had redeeming and inspiring messages. But when Pete hit rock bottom I expected him to be willing to do whatever it took. And then when I found myself in the pits of despair I felt likewise.
I replied:
I
was just reading [Jaded's] comment on my blog, and I totally get the
'rebellious phase' thing -- I went through it to even a bigger extreme I
think. I remember after our big 'disclosure' last year, I kinda had a
'screw it' period where I was almost like, "Fine, you finally be the one
who reads scriptures 30 minutes every day and says prayer and fasts
every week -- I'm done being the one in charge of the home and family's
spirituality, you handle it," and for a little bit was almost a bit
antagonistic about him wanting to do more scripture study together as a
couple (he was on this spiritual 'high' after going months without porn,
I'd just found out he was lying to me for a year, so I was not so
'high' at the time, and was totally broken and down. I found excuses
not to go to Church, I basically refused to wake up early with him to
study, I was angry that the Bishop was telling me to go to the temple
once a week when he couldn't go at all and I had three young kids at
home. It took me a bit to get through my 'rebellious' phase, and it
sounds more extreme than yours (I basically realized one day I was
missing a lot of peace in my life). I wonder if it's a fairly typical
response to the situation?
Jaded wrote:
Oh I am kind of still in that
spiritually rebellious stage. It is really hard for me right now to read
my scriptures and pray. I hate going to Church and really struggle with
it. I did feel the Spirit really strongly last Sunday which was so
nice. I felt so peaceful. But I have just had a hard time having such
small children even finding the strength or energy to devote to
spiritual matters. It's so much easier to just go numb and do nothing. I
know I need to do better with my relationship with God because THAT is
what gets me through this but sometimes I just don't have an ounce of
energy to give to it. I think it's probably a pretty normal response (at
least that is what I tell myself to justify it) but I like you am
finding I need more peace in my life. Now...getting to the point of
actually making the effort is what I'm majorly struggling with.
I wrote:
I totally understand where you're
at! I think, for me, it was partly 'cause J started getting closer to
God and feeling all great about it, and I was just feeling so crappy I
couldn't feel or recognize a lot love in any form, and I was almost
bitter he got to feel so good and feel God's love for him, and no matter
how hard I prayed, how much I cried, I just felt stupid and unloved. I
pulled away -- from both J and God. I also had this attitude of, "OK,
if you're finally going to be doing what you're' supposed to, then
you're in charge -- you're in charge of knowing what's right for our
family, for knowing what God wants for us . . ."
Eventually I wasn't missing Church as often (with four kids, for months and months it'd been pretty darn easy to be like, "One of them is sick, or one of them needs their nap right now" and blow off Church. But I was starting to 'get over' that, but wasn't really praying and reaching out to God like I needed to. Then I found out that J's year of sobriety had been a lie for the last five months, and I felt like I'd left my family so 'unprotected'. Neither of us had been in a good place to spiritually provide for our family. That scared me. God had even been trying to tell me that something was wrong -- that J was looking at porn again, but I believed my husband over the Spirit and over my gut. I decided then and there I needed to get back to where I needed to be -- I needed to be solidly in tune with God and His will for my family, because sometimes I might be the only one who is . . . and I'm raising my kids in this wonderful, but sometimes terrifying, world and I need to be able to know what they need, what I need to teach them, what I need to talk about and be aware of -- this became so 'real' to me all the sudden, that I decided once and for all, I needed to get to where I needed to, irregardless of what J was doing. It was kinda my 'hit rock bottom' moment :-)
Eventually I wasn't missing Church as often (with four kids, for months and months it'd been pretty darn easy to be like, "One of them is sick, or one of them needs their nap right now" and blow off Church. But I was starting to 'get over' that, but wasn't really praying and reaching out to God like I needed to. Then I found out that J's year of sobriety had been a lie for the last five months, and I felt like I'd left my family so 'unprotected'. Neither of us had been in a good place to spiritually provide for our family. That scared me. God had even been trying to tell me that something was wrong -- that J was looking at porn again, but I believed my husband over the Spirit and over my gut. I decided then and there I needed to get back to where I needed to be -- I needed to be solidly in tune with God and His will for my family, because sometimes I might be the only one who is . . . and I'm raising my kids in this wonderful, but sometimes terrifying, world and I need to be able to know what they need, what I need to teach them, what I need to talk about and be aware of -- this became so 'real' to me all the sudden, that I decided once and for all, I needed to get to where I needed to, irregardless of what J was doing. It was kinda my 'hit rock bottom' moment :-)
Friday, May 4, 2012
In a Good Place . . . um, Mostly
I feel like I'm doing pretty good.
I haven't had one pesky "if only I were prettier" thought in at least a week. (Woo hoo, new record!) :-P
Despite the 'pretty good' state of things, I've been near tears repeatedly this week. Not over big, important, life-effecting stuff. But over super, super lame stuff.
When my pediatrician mentioned my four month old had taken a nose dive on the charts, but looked perfectly happy and healthy and thriving. I started tearing up the entire drive home about my shrimpy baby. (Every single one of my babies has plummeted on the charts by 6 months old, so this shouldn't have been surprising or upsetting.)
When my husband called to say he'd be home late on Tuesday. I got off the phone and almost started crying. Not 'cause I was worried about him or porn or anything -- but 'cause it threw off dinner coming together at the right time.
My hair wasn't working how I'd wanted it to. Um, tears. That's just embarrassing.
My almost-four year old poops her pants not once, but TWICE today, cause she's having so much fun outside running through sprinklers and riding bikes that she can't seem to remember to come inside before it's just a little too late. Not only did I handle it horribly ('cause shaming people for their behaviors works oh-so-well), but we both ended up in tears over it.
Then this afternoon I was looking on Amazon at a recommended book about sexual addictions, and it sounded really interesting. Not wanting to spend another $10 on random addiction related books/CDs/etc., I pulled up the local library website to check it out, only to find they didn't have it. I dissolved into tears. Full on tears rolling down my face. Pathetic gaspy quiet sobs. Over a book. Classic.
Just in case I didn't remember I had some healing to do of my own. God just likes to make sure I stay humble :-)
I haven't had one pesky "if only I were prettier" thought in at least a week. (Woo hoo, new record!) :-P
Despite the 'pretty good' state of things, I've been near tears repeatedly this week. Not over big, important, life-effecting stuff. But over super, super lame stuff.
When my pediatrician mentioned my four month old had taken a nose dive on the charts, but looked perfectly happy and healthy and thriving. I started tearing up the entire drive home about my shrimpy baby. (Every single one of my babies has plummeted on the charts by 6 months old, so this shouldn't have been surprising or upsetting.)
When my husband called to say he'd be home late on Tuesday. I got off the phone and almost started crying. Not 'cause I was worried about him or porn or anything -- but 'cause it threw off dinner coming together at the right time.
My hair wasn't working how I'd wanted it to. Um, tears. That's just embarrassing.
My almost-four year old poops her pants not once, but TWICE today, cause she's having so much fun outside running through sprinklers and riding bikes that she can't seem to remember to come inside before it's just a little too late. Not only did I handle it horribly ('cause shaming people for their behaviors works oh-so-well), but we both ended up in tears over it.
Then this afternoon I was looking on Amazon at a recommended book about sexual addictions, and it sounded really interesting. Not wanting to spend another $10 on random addiction related books/CDs/etc., I pulled up the local library website to check it out, only to find they didn't have it. I dissolved into tears. Full on tears rolling down my face. Pathetic gaspy quiet sobs. Over a book. Classic.
Just in case I didn't remember I had some healing to do of my own. God just likes to make sure I stay humble :-)
Thursday, May 3, 2012
Follow Up to my Last Post
So after reading your guys' awesome comments to my last post, I realized I actually am armed with the answers to most of my questions.
I've thought a lot about how I'll talk with my kids about porn. I don't know specifics yet, but I think I've already started to lay some of the groundwork for these conversations, and I do know that my single greatest weapon against porn in their lives is talking. My parents talked to us about everything and anything. When our friends had questions about sex or related stuffs, they'd send my sister and I to go ask our parents. I love them for that. When my brother was 16 he came in to my parents room and said, "I was on the computer, porn came up and before I knew it I'd been looking at it for 40 minutes. I need you to change the parental controls and password, and I'll let you know if it happens again."
That is the trusting, loving conversational foundation I want for my kids' and my relationships.
On the flip side, when my husband was 14 years old, he'd found a porn video that one of brothers had under his bed -- at this point he'd been exposed to this kinda stuff for years, but was still trying to fight it. He took the video outside and threw it in the trash. An hour later, his curiosity got the best of him and he went and grabbed it out of the trash to watch it -- while walking back into the house, he got caught by his Dad. My father in law took the video from him and said, "We don't ever look at stuff like this," and walked back outside to throw it away again. And that is the ONLY. THING. HE. EVER. SAID to his any of three boys about sex, porn, masturbation, etc. Three teenagers, one of which he'd just caught red-handed INSIDE HIS HOUSE with a PORN VIDEO and never another word to any of them. Not even a basic sex talk. I'm not blaming my in-laws (I try not to, at least, it's something I'm working on!), it was a different time and they didn't 'get' what they were up against, but compared to my relationship with my parents I was so SHOCKED and hurt for J when I first heard that story when we were in counseling.
I know that a completely open and welcoming conversational environment with my kids will be key. Our best defense. One thing I've learned about porn is it sure loves it's secrecy; so open, honest communication will make a world of difference, letting light into the darkest corners so nothing can hide.
From rereading my post and your comments, I realize my real issues is this: what I don't know how to do is keep my children from being negatively affected by it . . . how do I keep my daughters from being objectified or victimized or lied to? How do I keep it out of the lives of those they surround themselves with?
Here's the plan you guys -- my daughters are 6 and 4. I'll start raising them in open, loving, nurturing environments where they're bursting with self-esteem and taught that sex is beautiful and good when kept within sacred confines; you guys start teaching your 2-11 year old boys that women are worthy of respect and should be treated as daughters of God and to avoid porn like the plague -- and we'll iron out all the details of their arranged marriages later on. :-)
I've thought a lot about how I'll talk with my kids about porn. I don't know specifics yet, but I think I've already started to lay some of the groundwork for these conversations, and I do know that my single greatest weapon against porn in their lives is talking. My parents talked to us about everything and anything. When our friends had questions about sex or related stuffs, they'd send my sister and I to go ask our parents. I love them for that. When my brother was 16 he came in to my parents room and said, "I was on the computer, porn came up and before I knew it I'd been looking at it for 40 minutes. I need you to change the parental controls and password, and I'll let you know if it happens again."
That is the trusting, loving conversational foundation I want for my kids' and my relationships.
On the flip side, when my husband was 14 years old, he'd found a porn video that one of brothers had under his bed -- at this point he'd been exposed to this kinda stuff for years, but was still trying to fight it. He took the video outside and threw it in the trash. An hour later, his curiosity got the best of him and he went and grabbed it out of the trash to watch it -- while walking back into the house, he got caught by his Dad. My father in law took the video from him and said, "We don't ever look at stuff like this," and walked back outside to throw it away again. And that is the ONLY. THING. HE. EVER. SAID to his any of three boys about sex, porn, masturbation, etc. Three teenagers, one of which he'd just caught red-handed INSIDE HIS HOUSE with a PORN VIDEO and never another word to any of them. Not even a basic sex talk. I'm not blaming my in-laws (I try not to, at least, it's something I'm working on!), it was a different time and they didn't 'get' what they were up against, but compared to my relationship with my parents I was so SHOCKED and hurt for J when I first heard that story when we were in counseling.
I know that a completely open and welcoming conversational environment with my kids will be key. Our best defense. One thing I've learned about porn is it sure loves it's secrecy; so open, honest communication will make a world of difference, letting light into the darkest corners so nothing can hide.
From rereading my post and your comments, I realize my real issues is this: what I don't know how to do is keep my children from being negatively affected by it . . . how do I keep my daughters from being objectified or victimized or lied to? How do I keep it out of the lives of those they surround themselves with?
Here's the plan you guys -- my daughters are 6 and 4. I'll start raising them in open, loving, nurturing environments where they're bursting with self-esteem and taught that sex is beautiful and good when kept within sacred confines; you guys start teaching your 2-11 year old boys that women are worthy of respect and should be treated as daughters of God and to avoid porn like the plague -- and we'll iron out all the details of their arranged marriages later on. :-)
My Nightmare
I had a dream last night. A nightmare, really.
The neighbor boy had been watching porn. Young kid, just a few years older than my girls. It changed how he thought about girls, thought about boys, and how they should act together. One of my daughter's ended up being molested by him. It was one the worst dreams I've had in a long time. I woke up in tears. What scared me most, was just how possible it all is.
Never before have a generation of boys been raised so surrounded by smut and filth and the degradation of women that is so easily accessible to them. Twelve, thirteen, fourteen year old boys are coming across things that hard core porn users two decades ago would've had to search for in back rooms of seedy shops. How can we expect young adolescent minds, still developing, to process what they're seeing and feeling and not have it affect how they view the thirteen year old girls walking down the halls of their middle school. How can they reverence their sweet wife one day when their teen years left them exposed to degrading, filthy acts seen on screens at their friends houses or on their smart phone or on their own home computer. The filthiest of ideas are just a click way -- not even a purposeful click in a lot of cases -- in one motion of the mouse, a young boy can find himself confronted with ideas and images so horrendous that how could we ever expect it not to affect him.
I've told my husband, that even if we didn't believe it was wrong, even if there was no God, porn would still be wrong. It's degrading (to everyone involved) and changes how people think about other people. Turning human beings in to objects to be selfishly used or observed for nothing more than the pleasure of the user. It creates and breeds selfishness. It diminishes the worth of partners, spouses and women in general.
How, oh how, do I teach my kids about this? What age do we start talking about it? How do I explain how imperative it is that they avoid it, even when their friends laugh and joke about what comes up on the screen? How do I explain that the reaction their bodies and minds have to it are normal, even when it's bad for them? How do I avoid the shame and guilt of those first initial incidents, so that they don't clamp down, locking it inside a deep vault inside that allows it to grow and fester and become something so ugly? How do we take away it's power?
The neighbor boy had been watching porn. Young kid, just a few years older than my girls. It changed how he thought about girls, thought about boys, and how they should act together. One of my daughter's ended up being molested by him. It was one the worst dreams I've had in a long time. I woke up in tears. What scared me most, was just how possible it all is.
Never before have a generation of boys been raised so surrounded by smut and filth and the degradation of women that is so easily accessible to them. Twelve, thirteen, fourteen year old boys are coming across things that hard core porn users two decades ago would've had to search for in back rooms of seedy shops. How can we expect young adolescent minds, still developing, to process what they're seeing and feeling and not have it affect how they view the thirteen year old girls walking down the halls of their middle school. How can they reverence their sweet wife one day when their teen years left them exposed to degrading, filthy acts seen on screens at their friends houses or on their smart phone or on their own home computer. The filthiest of ideas are just a click way -- not even a purposeful click in a lot of cases -- in one motion of the mouse, a young boy can find himself confronted with ideas and images so horrendous that how could we ever expect it not to affect him.
I've told my husband, that even if we didn't believe it was wrong, even if there was no God, porn would still be wrong. It's degrading (to everyone involved) and changes how people think about other people. Turning human beings in to objects to be selfishly used or observed for nothing more than the pleasure of the user. It creates and breeds selfishness. It diminishes the worth of partners, spouses and women in general.
How, oh how, do I teach my kids about this? What age do we start talking about it? How do I explain how imperative it is that they avoid it, even when their friends laugh and joke about what comes up on the screen? How do I explain that the reaction their bodies and minds have to it are normal, even when it's bad for them? How do I avoid the shame and guilt of those first initial incidents, so that they don't clamp down, locking it inside a deep vault inside that allows it to grow and fester and become something so ugly? How do we take away it's power?
Wednesday, May 2, 2012
For Starters . . .
So, I don't actually know how to go about introducing myself on my anonymous-'cause-my-husband-has-a-porn-addiction blog. This is a first for me. Usually when I blog it's with pictures of my adorable kids and updates on the funny things they say and do and the places we go and people we see and all that. This is so different. I'm putting this side of my life out there for the first time. This never makes it on my family blog . . .
Maybe I should back up a bit.
I've been married for almost a decade. I was twenty-five years old, married in the temple to my handsome return missionary husband. About a year into our marriage I opened up my husband's email to send a resume for a job he was applying for . . . when I noticed an email that seemed odd to me. It was emailed to him, from him, from another email address. It was erotic fiction. I was at work. I was shocked, horrified, confused. I had the perfect marriage -- we were so blissfully happy that few people were able to enter into our bubble of newly wedded bliss. Sex was great -- we'd waited 'til we were married at 25, both of us, and were beyond pleased to find we were so incredibly intimately compatible. Neither of us seemed to bring any 'good girl/boy' hang ups into our marriage, as some of my friends had talked about. It was better than anything I'd ever expected. We talked and cuddled and made love every night . . . life was perfect. So, why would he be reading this trash? What was missing in 'us' that had him looking to this? I confronted him when he got home from work and he broke down and confessed to first being introduced to porn in fifth grade (FIFTH GRADE) and an ever increasing interest in it grew until in his later teens he had near constant access with internet and his older brother's porn stash. He 'got it under control' long enough to get out on his two year LDS mission, and was shocked when it quickly resumed once he got home, escalating in frequency as he spent time on campus with a laptop and wi-fi. He started and stopped often. He trudged along through school, spending more time searching for pictures of naked women than studying, but fortunately for him has a fantastically brilliant mind he never seemed to recognize, and continued to do 'well enough', until he met me. He'd been trying to 'stop' for a bit, realizing at 24, that life wasn't going anywhere. His Mom was lecturing him and needing to 'get out there', when he heard a still, small voice (one he'd been shutting out for awhile) that said, "You should go hang out with HX." Within weeks we were inseparable. Within the year, we were married. And we were happy. So, so happy. People commented all the time they'd never seen two happier people. He was more than I even knew I wanted. He's calm and even, while I'm more emotional and argumentative. He's respectful and smart and kind and thoughtful and all my younger sisters went from wanting a popular jock as a husband to wanting someone just like J. He was so in love with me, so doting and enamored that complete strangers would chuckle and comment, "Wow, he sure loves you!" I had the perfect life. And it felt like it came crashing down around me. But you know what, despite dealing with some self-esteem issues, I was ready to forgive and move on. Then it happened again, I found some pictures he emailed himself so he could 'check them out later'. This time our Bishop suggested counseling. The counselor was kind and sympathetic, assured me this wasn't about me 'not being enough', and I started my education on porn addiction and what it was all about. My husband attended all the sessions, but never seemed to really 'try' like I wanted him to. The journaling, the note-taking, the self-awareness, none of it was happening like it should. But he was seemed so repentant and begging my forgiveness, and we moved forward, with that particular trial securely behind us.
Apparently my porn addiction education wasn't thorough enough yet. I just didn't get it.
It popped up again. We talked to a Bishop again. 'This time' we had it.
Every single time I was the one who found it (besides one or two token, "I looked at a Sports Illustrated edition, I'm so sorry!") He'd tell me he was so sorry, that he was just so afraid of hurting me that he couldn't bring himself to tell me. But he'd never lie to me to the face -- so keep asking him about it, if I asked him, he'd be unable to lie.
Not true. I was lied to. A lot. While looking him in the eye.
That hurts so much worse than the porn.
This went on for a few years . . . once to twice a year I'd 'catch' some slip up or another. He'd promise to do better. Rinse and repeat.
We had three kids over this time.
Then February 2011, my baby had been in the hospital. We came home with him still on oxygen. I was nursing him in my arms when I happened to feel like I should look back through my husband's google history. (It might help to point out here, J never looked at porn in our home. Oddly enough, he has only masturbated a few times while we were married -- something he did rountinely with porn use before our marriage. The way he describes it was, "once we got married and I realized the porn wasn't going away," since like a lot of men, he'd assumed that once he was having sex it'd magically disappear and be a problem of the past . . . he was shocked when he realized he'd found a perfectly compatible sexual partner and regular sex and it hadn't 'taken care of the problem', "I decided I could at least save orgasm as something that was only between us." When he first told me that my reaction was something along the lines of, "Um, seriously dude. You picked 'oogling OTHER WOMEN, NAKED' as the more acceptable practice in our marriage to masturbating . . . wrong answer." I've since come to understand that, while I wish he would've given up both for our marriage, that him at least giving up half the equation was a big deal and has probably helped immensely with his addiction not growing faster than it already has.) There it was. One single search for the word 'breasts'. From six months ago. Right around the time I'd had our baby. He'd lied. Again.
I sat there crying, holding our baby hooked up to tubes, and possibly used the 'f' word. I'm not proud of that, but it seemed appropriate at the time. :-) I'd never 'reacted' badly to all my discoveries. I'd cried a lot, but I tried to be loving and kind, not shaming or cruel. But this was more than I could take. I said quite a few not-so-nice things. Called him some not-so-nice names. He tried to back peddle, he tried to make an excuse or two, then his face fell, he started to cry and he confessed.
Really, really confessed.
The porn had always been there. All those times I thought he'd 'slipped' up when I discovered some crumb here or there -- those were the few things that had fallen through his trying to cover his tracks. He might have stopped for a few weeks, even months, but most of the time I thought it was under control, it hadn't been. He'd usually just been spinning his wheels long enough to get me off his back, then he went back to it. Sometimes he'd really wanted to get away from it, at least for awhile, but usually at least part of him was fully aware he wasn't really trying. My world felt like it shattered. I'd been so lied to. By someone who loved me so much (and I had no doubt he loved me). Purposefully manipulated and hidden from so that he could keep his dirty little secret part of his life without me causing any pesky cognitive dissonance.
He told me how much bigger the problem had always been. The year he didn't get a raise. That'd been because they'd caught on to his porn use (remember that whole 'never using it in the home -- his main outlet had been at work ever since he'd finished school). They'd told him not once, but twice, that if they caught him again, he'd be fired.
He told me though, that around the time of our third child's birth, about six months before this big blow up with me holding our sick baby, he'd decided he had to stop. And he did. And more surprisingly to him, so did the desire to look at it. Except for one 'binge' around Christmas while working some overnight shifts, he'd barely felt the pull to look at it. A dramatic, miraculous change of heart. He knew he'd needed to confess, but hadn't wanted to ruin how good everything felt. He was happy, feeling the Spirit more and more, feeling closer to me -- why spoil that with all that pesky honesty and confession.
We went to our awesome Bishop -- who J worked with a lot in his Church calling. The two were close, and the Bishop was hard on J. Which I appreciated. Months of not taking the sacrament, using his priesthood and a full six months before even talking about getting his temple recommend back. I was hurting -- and the Bishop made sure my husband understood that. He counseled with me monthly, both of us monthly, and my husband weekly after their other meetings. I hurt like I'd never hurt before -- I tried to piece together my life. I couldn't detach the porn and the lies from every single happy memory. All the way back to our actual marriage, I couldn't help but feel like it'd been one big lie. The whole 'am I pretty enough? I'm too fat? If I was better in bed?" none of it even really phased me anymore (although I'd be lying if I said they didn't pop into my head and make me cry from time to time). But that I was so unworthy of the basic common decency of being told the truth. It broke me in some very real ways.
It was hard, because while my husband was truly sorry for the damage he'd done, I was left as the one who was damaged. One of our biggest problems was, oddly enough, that he'd gone so long without looking at porn. He was feeling the best he had since his mission -- he felt untempted, he was as far removed from it as he'd ever been, and I was dealing with it like it had all happened (all seven years of it that affected our marriage) yesterday. We slowly started to heal though. I very unexpectedly ended up pregnant. Adding the stress of another pregnancy and two kids 17 months apart to my already emotionally stressful life. My well-meaning, but slightly perfectionist, mother started making comments about needing to get my act together. Sure, I had been dealing with some really sick kids (the baby wasn't the only one who ended up in the hospital that RSV season, and he later needed surgery), but that was no reason to be living in a fog, not accomplishing anything. I got to where I couldn't answer her phone calls. And I'm close to my Mom. Pretty soon I couldn't answer anyone's phone calls. My Relief Society President released me from her presidency (I didn't ask her to, but I think she knew I needed to be -- she was aware of both the porn problem (through one of the single most 'God loves me and he's aware of me' moments I've ever experienced, which I'll have to write about later) and the stress of the pregnancy.) I felt like a failure. I found out later people, like my sisters, were talking and wondering if I was dealing with post-partum/ante-partum depression. I'd never struggled with anything like that before, but I was definitely lost and depressed during this time (hindsight being 20/20 and all). But things started to improve. My pregnancy was rough, but my husband was as loving and doting as he'd ever been. He walked in the door scooped up the kids, sent me upstairs for a nap and made dinner. Every night. We made some real strides in our relationship.
He was actively engaged in his Church calling, in parenting, in scripture study, in work, in prayer and in us. He encouraged me to talk openly about the problem with my sister and sister-in-law, since he'd seen how bad I'd been struggling. He knew this would mean they'd know his 'secret', but it was worth it if it would help me. I finally had people I could talk to. I wasn't so alone. He was willing to sacrifice his privacy for my own good. This would work out this time. Right? He didn't 'need' to go to meetings or counseling or anything though -- it was already 'gone', he hadn't really even felt the pull of it in months and months at this point. It was all good.
He came to me in October to tell me he'd 'slipped up'. He'd been watching some YouTube videos at work of scantily clad women. He was so sorry. But he knew he had to tell me before it became a 'secret' and he lost control of it again. I thanked him for his honesty. We'd caught it this time. He came to me. Everything was going to be OK.
What I didn't know was that it'd actually happened two or three times. It really had 'just' been some stupid YouTube videos, but as soon as he minimized it, even just a little, it was like he just let it walk back in to our lives. (Addiction loves minimizing. It feeds on it.)
Over the next month or so, he started to seek out 'risque' images here and there. Nothing nude. "No big deal." He didn't tell me about it. This corresponded with us getting testier with each other. I blamed the pregnancy. He let me blame the pregnancy. By Christmas time, he was finding ways around his work filters to watch videos of busty lesbians. After our new baby boy was born at the first of the year, as soon as he was back at work, he was spending hours a day finding pictures and videos of women. The floodgates were opened. It was all back. And he kept it all quiet. It tapered out through February, and he went all of March, until the 30th, without looking at a single thing. A six hour binge on the 30th, then nothing again. Then on April 9th I got another one of those 'feelings'. I got into his gmail account and checked out image searches. From back in November there was one search for a scantily clad woman. (Some of co-dependency skills are a bit lacking -- seriously, the search was from like five months ago!) One search, but I knew. It was all back.
I thought back through the last couple months since the baby had been born. I knew something was off. I'd asked him, he'd assured me everything was fine. Sex had been painful and uncomfortable much longer after this baby. I knew something was wrong, but he just kept insisting that it must be taking longer for me to get back to normal after the baby's birth. He'd be sweet and patient though. Whenever I felt up to things. I felt bad he was being so sweet and helpful around the house, and I couldn't seem to get back to where we'd been. He let me blame me; the new baby; our strained relationship. And he knew. He KNEW what was really wrong, and he let me chalk it up to postpartum hormones and being overtaxed with a nursing baby. But he KNEW it was him.
I was so angry and hurt I couldn't think straight.
When he got home from work, I asked him. "Has there been any porn?" He stared at me for a minute then asked, "What did you find?"
"WRONG ANSWER," I fumed, and walked out of the room. A minute later he followed and confessed. It'd come back. He hadn't wanted to tell me. He spilled out the whole timeline I wrote about above. I ran out of the house and threw myself on my sister's bed (with a 3 month old baby in tow) and sobbed for hours. I came home and we talked. I was so angry about him risking his job again (and again and again and again) that I told him he could start looking at it at home if he just promised to not look at it at work (I have since taken that back :-) For days though, all I could think about was what if he lost his job and the house and everything . . . then I'd have no marriage AND we'd have to move in to my parents. I've since calmed down a bit and am not living in a constant state of fear and anxiety). I asked him flat out, what did he want? Did he still want to be going to Church? He told me, with tears in his eyes, it's all true and it's what he wants. Did he want to get the porn out of his life? As much as he wanted to say 'yes', a part of him knew the answer was 'no'.
It was the most painful thing I ever heard. But it was honest. Really, painfully honest. And it gave me hope.
He's since been attending three meetings a week (two LDS meetings, one SA). He's gone to the Bishop. He lost the calling he loved (actually the Bishop, one of his best friends, informed him he was already being released, it was already in the works -- the Bishop could tell something was up, knew he was being lied to, and had already made the change. This was so eye opening to J, to realize that he couldn't lie and hide it as well as he thought.) He's journaling, we're talking, he suggested we take a 90-day hiatus from sex to give him a chance to 'sort things out' in his head that's so confused and pumped full of lust and porn and other unhealthy things that don't belong in our marriage. (That was a big one for him.) We're reconnecting. We spend hours just talking. I look forward to him coming home all day. Neither of us can wait for the kids to go to sleep so we can just be together. We're realizing just how far we'd drifted apart (something we both some how had just not noticed until now.)
He's more humble than I've ever seen him. Just as repentant, but frankly repentant has never gotten us anywhere, so I much prefer humble. He's talking about it more. He's being more honest. It's painful sometimes to see what a hold this has on him, how much he wants it. But the more he talks about it, the more honest he is, out loud, outside of his own head, the less of a hold it has. I told him I think the point of meetings and therapy is the more you say it all out loud, the harder it is to lie about inside your head. He'll start going to group therapy in another month or so (when the next one starts)
We have a long road ahead of us . . . but dare I say it . . . it finally feels like we're on the right road.
But I realize there are no guarantees. No matter what decisions J does or does not make. Whatever choices he makes. I have no control over that. I am starting to separate myself from this whole mess. I'm releasing fears and anxieties I'm just realizing I've lived with for so long.
I will be able to carve out a wonderful life for me and my children, no matter what my husband chooses. And I will end up closer to my Heavenly Father than I've ever been before. 'Cause I needed to be humbled too. I would've preferred another way to go about it, but God will work with whatever situation presents itself, and He is going to mine this one for all it's worth. And I'm gonna end up a diamond.
Maybe I should back up a bit.
I've been married for almost a decade. I was twenty-five years old, married in the temple to my handsome return missionary husband. About a year into our marriage I opened up my husband's email to send a resume for a job he was applying for . . . when I noticed an email that seemed odd to me. It was emailed to him, from him, from another email address. It was erotic fiction. I was at work. I was shocked, horrified, confused. I had the perfect marriage -- we were so blissfully happy that few people were able to enter into our bubble of newly wedded bliss. Sex was great -- we'd waited 'til we were married at 25, both of us, and were beyond pleased to find we were so incredibly intimately compatible. Neither of us seemed to bring any 'good girl/boy' hang ups into our marriage, as some of my friends had talked about. It was better than anything I'd ever expected. We talked and cuddled and made love every night . . . life was perfect. So, why would he be reading this trash? What was missing in 'us' that had him looking to this? I confronted him when he got home from work and he broke down and confessed to first being introduced to porn in fifth grade (FIFTH GRADE) and an ever increasing interest in it grew until in his later teens he had near constant access with internet and his older brother's porn stash. He 'got it under control' long enough to get out on his two year LDS mission, and was shocked when it quickly resumed once he got home, escalating in frequency as he spent time on campus with a laptop and wi-fi. He started and stopped often. He trudged along through school, spending more time searching for pictures of naked women than studying, but fortunately for him has a fantastically brilliant mind he never seemed to recognize, and continued to do 'well enough', until he met me. He'd been trying to 'stop' for a bit, realizing at 24, that life wasn't going anywhere. His Mom was lecturing him and needing to 'get out there', when he heard a still, small voice (one he'd been shutting out for awhile) that said, "You should go hang out with HX." Within weeks we were inseparable. Within the year, we were married. And we were happy. So, so happy. People commented all the time they'd never seen two happier people. He was more than I even knew I wanted. He's calm and even, while I'm more emotional and argumentative. He's respectful and smart and kind and thoughtful and all my younger sisters went from wanting a popular jock as a husband to wanting someone just like J. He was so in love with me, so doting and enamored that complete strangers would chuckle and comment, "Wow, he sure loves you!" I had the perfect life. And it felt like it came crashing down around me. But you know what, despite dealing with some self-esteem issues, I was ready to forgive and move on. Then it happened again, I found some pictures he emailed himself so he could 'check them out later'. This time our Bishop suggested counseling. The counselor was kind and sympathetic, assured me this wasn't about me 'not being enough', and I started my education on porn addiction and what it was all about. My husband attended all the sessions, but never seemed to really 'try' like I wanted him to. The journaling, the note-taking, the self-awareness, none of it was happening like it should. But he was seemed so repentant and begging my forgiveness, and we moved forward, with that particular trial securely behind us.
Apparently my porn addiction education wasn't thorough enough yet. I just didn't get it.
It popped up again. We talked to a Bishop again. 'This time' we had it.
Every single time I was the one who found it (besides one or two token, "I looked at a Sports Illustrated edition, I'm so sorry!") He'd tell me he was so sorry, that he was just so afraid of hurting me that he couldn't bring himself to tell me. But he'd never lie to me to the face -- so keep asking him about it, if I asked him, he'd be unable to lie.
Not true. I was lied to. A lot. While looking him in the eye.
That hurts so much worse than the porn.
This went on for a few years . . . once to twice a year I'd 'catch' some slip up or another. He'd promise to do better. Rinse and repeat.
We had three kids over this time.
Then February 2011, my baby had been in the hospital. We came home with him still on oxygen. I was nursing him in my arms when I happened to feel like I should look back through my husband's google history. (It might help to point out here, J never looked at porn in our home. Oddly enough, he has only masturbated a few times while we were married -- something he did rountinely with porn use before our marriage. The way he describes it was, "once we got married and I realized the porn wasn't going away," since like a lot of men, he'd assumed that once he was having sex it'd magically disappear and be a problem of the past . . . he was shocked when he realized he'd found a perfectly compatible sexual partner and regular sex and it hadn't 'taken care of the problem', "I decided I could at least save orgasm as something that was only between us." When he first told me that my reaction was something along the lines of, "Um, seriously dude. You picked 'oogling OTHER WOMEN, NAKED' as the more acceptable practice in our marriage to masturbating . . . wrong answer." I've since come to understand that, while I wish he would've given up both for our marriage, that him at least giving up half the equation was a big deal and has probably helped immensely with his addiction not growing faster than it already has.) There it was. One single search for the word 'breasts'. From six months ago. Right around the time I'd had our baby. He'd lied. Again.
I sat there crying, holding our baby hooked up to tubes, and possibly used the 'f' word. I'm not proud of that, but it seemed appropriate at the time. :-) I'd never 'reacted' badly to all my discoveries. I'd cried a lot, but I tried to be loving and kind, not shaming or cruel. But this was more than I could take. I said quite a few not-so-nice things. Called him some not-so-nice names. He tried to back peddle, he tried to make an excuse or two, then his face fell, he started to cry and he confessed.
Really, really confessed.
The porn had always been there. All those times I thought he'd 'slipped' up when I discovered some crumb here or there -- those were the few things that had fallen through his trying to cover his tracks. He might have stopped for a few weeks, even months, but most of the time I thought it was under control, it hadn't been. He'd usually just been spinning his wheels long enough to get me off his back, then he went back to it. Sometimes he'd really wanted to get away from it, at least for awhile, but usually at least part of him was fully aware he wasn't really trying. My world felt like it shattered. I'd been so lied to. By someone who loved me so much (and I had no doubt he loved me). Purposefully manipulated and hidden from so that he could keep his dirty little secret part of his life without me causing any pesky cognitive dissonance.
He told me how much bigger the problem had always been. The year he didn't get a raise. That'd been because they'd caught on to his porn use (remember that whole 'never using it in the home -- his main outlet had been at work ever since he'd finished school). They'd told him not once, but twice, that if they caught him again, he'd be fired.
He told me though, that around the time of our third child's birth, about six months before this big blow up with me holding our sick baby, he'd decided he had to stop. And he did. And more surprisingly to him, so did the desire to look at it. Except for one 'binge' around Christmas while working some overnight shifts, he'd barely felt the pull to look at it. A dramatic, miraculous change of heart. He knew he'd needed to confess, but hadn't wanted to ruin how good everything felt. He was happy, feeling the Spirit more and more, feeling closer to me -- why spoil that with all that pesky honesty and confession.
We went to our awesome Bishop -- who J worked with a lot in his Church calling. The two were close, and the Bishop was hard on J. Which I appreciated. Months of not taking the sacrament, using his priesthood and a full six months before even talking about getting his temple recommend back. I was hurting -- and the Bishop made sure my husband understood that. He counseled with me monthly, both of us monthly, and my husband weekly after their other meetings. I hurt like I'd never hurt before -- I tried to piece together my life. I couldn't detach the porn and the lies from every single happy memory. All the way back to our actual marriage, I couldn't help but feel like it'd been one big lie. The whole 'am I pretty enough? I'm too fat? If I was better in bed?" none of it even really phased me anymore (although I'd be lying if I said they didn't pop into my head and make me cry from time to time). But that I was so unworthy of the basic common decency of being told the truth. It broke me in some very real ways.
It was hard, because while my husband was truly sorry for the damage he'd done, I was left as the one who was damaged. One of our biggest problems was, oddly enough, that he'd gone so long without looking at porn. He was feeling the best he had since his mission -- he felt untempted, he was as far removed from it as he'd ever been, and I was dealing with it like it had all happened (all seven years of it that affected our marriage) yesterday. We slowly started to heal though. I very unexpectedly ended up pregnant. Adding the stress of another pregnancy and two kids 17 months apart to my already emotionally stressful life. My well-meaning, but slightly perfectionist, mother started making comments about needing to get my act together. Sure, I had been dealing with some really sick kids (the baby wasn't the only one who ended up in the hospital that RSV season, and he later needed surgery), but that was no reason to be living in a fog, not accomplishing anything. I got to where I couldn't answer her phone calls. And I'm close to my Mom. Pretty soon I couldn't answer anyone's phone calls. My Relief Society President released me from her presidency (I didn't ask her to, but I think she knew I needed to be -- she was aware of both the porn problem (through one of the single most 'God loves me and he's aware of me' moments I've ever experienced, which I'll have to write about later) and the stress of the pregnancy.) I felt like a failure. I found out later people, like my sisters, were talking and wondering if I was dealing with post-partum/ante-partum depression. I'd never struggled with anything like that before, but I was definitely lost and depressed during this time (hindsight being 20/20 and all). But things started to improve. My pregnancy was rough, but my husband was as loving and doting as he'd ever been. He walked in the door scooped up the kids, sent me upstairs for a nap and made dinner. Every night. We made some real strides in our relationship.
He was actively engaged in his Church calling, in parenting, in scripture study, in work, in prayer and in us. He encouraged me to talk openly about the problem with my sister and sister-in-law, since he'd seen how bad I'd been struggling. He knew this would mean they'd know his 'secret', but it was worth it if it would help me. I finally had people I could talk to. I wasn't so alone. He was willing to sacrifice his privacy for my own good. This would work out this time. Right? He didn't 'need' to go to meetings or counseling or anything though -- it was already 'gone', he hadn't really even felt the pull of it in months and months at this point. It was all good.
He came to me in October to tell me he'd 'slipped up'. He'd been watching some YouTube videos at work of scantily clad women. He was so sorry. But he knew he had to tell me before it became a 'secret' and he lost control of it again. I thanked him for his honesty. We'd caught it this time. He came to me. Everything was going to be OK.
What I didn't know was that it'd actually happened two or three times. It really had 'just' been some stupid YouTube videos, but as soon as he minimized it, even just a little, it was like he just let it walk back in to our lives. (Addiction loves minimizing. It feeds on it.)
Over the next month or so, he started to seek out 'risque' images here and there. Nothing nude. "No big deal." He didn't tell me about it. This corresponded with us getting testier with each other. I blamed the pregnancy. He let me blame the pregnancy. By Christmas time, he was finding ways around his work filters to watch videos of busty lesbians. After our new baby boy was born at the first of the year, as soon as he was back at work, he was spending hours a day finding pictures and videos of women. The floodgates were opened. It was all back. And he kept it all quiet. It tapered out through February, and he went all of March, until the 30th, without looking at a single thing. A six hour binge on the 30th, then nothing again. Then on April 9th I got another one of those 'feelings'. I got into his gmail account and checked out image searches. From back in November there was one search for a scantily clad woman. (Some of co-dependency skills are a bit lacking -- seriously, the search was from like five months ago!) One search, but I knew. It was all back.
I thought back through the last couple months since the baby had been born. I knew something was off. I'd asked him, he'd assured me everything was fine. Sex had been painful and uncomfortable much longer after this baby. I knew something was wrong, but he just kept insisting that it must be taking longer for me to get back to normal after the baby's birth. He'd be sweet and patient though. Whenever I felt up to things. I felt bad he was being so sweet and helpful around the house, and I couldn't seem to get back to where we'd been. He let me blame me; the new baby; our strained relationship. And he knew. He KNEW what was really wrong, and he let me chalk it up to postpartum hormones and being overtaxed with a nursing baby. But he KNEW it was him.
I was so angry and hurt I couldn't think straight.
When he got home from work, I asked him. "Has there been any porn?" He stared at me for a minute then asked, "What did you find?"
"WRONG ANSWER," I fumed, and walked out of the room. A minute later he followed and confessed. It'd come back. He hadn't wanted to tell me. He spilled out the whole timeline I wrote about above. I ran out of the house and threw myself on my sister's bed (with a 3 month old baby in tow) and sobbed for hours. I came home and we talked. I was so angry about him risking his job again (and again and again and again) that I told him he could start looking at it at home if he just promised to not look at it at work (I have since taken that back :-) For days though, all I could think about was what if he lost his job and the house and everything . . . then I'd have no marriage AND we'd have to move in to my parents. I've since calmed down a bit and am not living in a constant state of fear and anxiety). I asked him flat out, what did he want? Did he still want to be going to Church? He told me, with tears in his eyes, it's all true and it's what he wants. Did he want to get the porn out of his life? As much as he wanted to say 'yes', a part of him knew the answer was 'no'.
It was the most painful thing I ever heard. But it was honest. Really, painfully honest. And it gave me hope.
He's since been attending three meetings a week (two LDS meetings, one SA). He's gone to the Bishop. He lost the calling he loved (actually the Bishop, one of his best friends, informed him he was already being released, it was already in the works -- the Bishop could tell something was up, knew he was being lied to, and had already made the change. This was so eye opening to J, to realize that he couldn't lie and hide it as well as he thought.) He's journaling, we're talking, he suggested we take a 90-day hiatus from sex to give him a chance to 'sort things out' in his head that's so confused and pumped full of lust and porn and other unhealthy things that don't belong in our marriage. (That was a big one for him.) We're reconnecting. We spend hours just talking. I look forward to him coming home all day. Neither of us can wait for the kids to go to sleep so we can just be together. We're realizing just how far we'd drifted apart (something we both some how had just not noticed until now.)
He's more humble than I've ever seen him. Just as repentant, but frankly repentant has never gotten us anywhere, so I much prefer humble. He's talking about it more. He's being more honest. It's painful sometimes to see what a hold this has on him, how much he wants it. But the more he talks about it, the more honest he is, out loud, outside of his own head, the less of a hold it has. I told him I think the point of meetings and therapy is the more you say it all out loud, the harder it is to lie about inside your head. He'll start going to group therapy in another month or so (when the next one starts)
We have a long road ahead of us . . . but dare I say it . . . it finally feels like we're on the right road.
But I realize there are no guarantees. No matter what decisions J does or does not make. Whatever choices he makes. I have no control over that. I am starting to separate myself from this whole mess. I'm releasing fears and anxieties I'm just realizing I've lived with for so long.
I will be able to carve out a wonderful life for me and my children, no matter what my husband chooses. And I will end up closer to my Heavenly Father than I've ever been before. 'Cause I needed to be humbled too. I would've preferred another way to go about it, but God will work with whatever situation presents itself, and He is going to mine this one for all it's worth. And I'm gonna end up a diamond.
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