Recovery Nation

I look back at the 29 years of my marriage and see things as "pre-Meadows" and "post-Meadows," the post-Meadows years (the last 10) being the happiest of my life. I was thrilled when we both got help 10 years ago and when my husband returned from Arizona the man I always knew he was, the man I fell in love with. I had no clue, for 10 years, that he had gone back, or maybe had never left. I had worked with every fiber dedicated to building my trust in him, supporting him, loving him purely and without reservations. He had become so skilled in lying and deception that he never slipped up, never faltered; he cared for me, he was generous, loving, said all the right things, did all the right things. This discovery was beyond devastating for me; it was nothing like the first time, the pre-Meadows time, when things had never been good between us and I was so lost and alone. Our relationship never felt right, never felt good, never fulfilled it's promises of intimacy, compassion, respect. So when the first break came, it was just a last straw in a long serious of straws, piled on top of each other in a dirty heap.

Not this time. I was happy, truly happy. Finally, I thought, we can have an open, light-filled life, we can be companions, lovers, supporters, friends. We can laugh, travel, explore, cook rich, soul-satisfying Indian, we can communicate, we can open up to each other, we can plan for the future together, we can BE with each other, just the two of us. All I ever wanted.

Nothing is left of that life, my life. He took it all away. He destroyed it in a moment. My trust, my generosity, my openness, my sense of myself with the man I love. All I have is what he replaced it with; I'm living HIS life these last weeks since discovery. The objectifying, disengaged sex; the betrayal of everything I valued and thought HE valued; the lies that came so easily, so effortlessly; the emptiness, a black hole that swallows any light, any goodness, any sincerity. The tapes, HIS tapes, play without end, through my thoughts during the day into the night, into my dreams, my nightmares, my panic attacks that wake me (when exhaustion does finally allow me to sleep). I notice the women he would want, he would stalk like wounded deer; I know where all the strip clubs and massage parlors are; the computer is an accomplice, withholding, hiding the truth from me, refusing to allow me in. The world is ugly. Uncaring. Threatening. What happened to everything I ever loved?

I measure my days and nights by blocks of time secured or not by an alibi; all the women I know about and all of those I don't haunt me, laughing and uncaring, I don't exist to them, they only see my husband and how wonderful he is, so much fun at the swinger parties he was so good at organizing. "Can't wait for the next one" they call out during the night, but not to me. To them, I don't exist. I don't exist to my husband either. I know now I never will.

Exercise Two - Personal Vision

I am a caring, responsible woman who will not let anyone crush my loving spirit. I am willing to share my life with someone who respects me and values me. I am honest in my emotions and eager to communicate my deepest feelings to those I love. I am happy and want to live my life in joy and light. I have much to give to my family, my friends, and to those who treat me with openness and goodwill. My life after this will be built on trust, love, honesty, sensitivity and laughter. My value lies in my core goodness and my deep belief that the world can be a safe and fulfilling place if I continue to commit myself to nurturing my inner strengths and boundaries while remaining open to people who respect and care for me in return.

Welcome to Recovery Nation, Cayo.

The pain in your post is so fresh and real that I can feel it from here, and I am so sorry that you are suffering so deeply. But it is a good sign that you are looking for ways to help yourself in this situation by learning more about SA and reaching out to this community. I hope you will find it helpful. Please continue posting your lessons here, and myself or one of the other Coaches or Mentors will check in from time to time. Do make use of the Community Forum as well for any questions you may have.



Checking up on our untrustworthy partners is part of wanting to protect ourselves, but unfortunately, this kind of monitoring can sometimes turn into an obsessive activity that re-traumatizes us and prevents us getting on with our own lives. One thing to think about is to examine your own motivations for monitoring. If you already know he has a problem with SA behavior, what purpose does finding more instances serve?



This is a very natural response to the traumatic experience you have undergone. What you are experiencing is something similar to the effect of post-traumatic stress, and can be one of the most difficult things to address in your own healing. Hopefully, as you move through the exercises, you will learn strategies to stop the 'mind-movies' of all that has happened.



I can tell from your words, from the eloquent way in which you write, that although it may feel like this, it is not true. Because you also wrote:



And that comes through loud and clear. Your sense of self has suffered a severe blow, and it will take time to rediscover the amazing and unique person you know you are deep down, and to reconnect to the trust, generosity and openness that are valuable to you. Perhaps you could add 'generosity' and 'openness' to your 'Personal Vision' in a more explicit way? You have made a good start on your Vision, and it communicates the kind of person you are at your core. A bit more specific detail will help expand this Vision so it can be a guide to you through this process.

Revisit exercise 2 and try expanding it with thinking of concrete actions you can take. Think about ways that you can make this Vision resemble the life you are living. Ask yourself: What sorts of things can you do to 'commit myself to nurturing my inner strengths'? What can you do to take care of this value, each week? Each day? Think of examples which are concrete and measurable. So, for instance, you identify 'laughter' as an important value. How can you let more laughter into your life? Watching a comedy film? Phoning a friend who always makes you laugh? Making someone else laugh? Your Vision is something you can return to and refine, and it will help to guide you through your healing. As you move through the Workshop, you can look back on this to see if you are doing the actions to sustain your value. Your values have been eroded by the trauma you have experienced, but they are still inside you, and they just need a little nurturing in order to flower again.

I wish you all the best on your healing journey.
FMT

Refocus--Personal Vision
As I have gotten some distance from those devastating days of June, and I've come out of the crazed intensity of my need to confront him, I have refocused my life, if not totally on me, then at least to where my needs are in my peripheral vision-something new to me. I can see that I need laughter in my life and that I can bring people into my life who give this gift to me, either through their abilities or through mine. This I will do every day. I also miss being in touch with the spiritual. I am capable of providing spiritual experiences that can comfort and heal my soul through time spent at the beach. This I will do at least one day each week. Yoga and meditation give me energy, stillness, flexibility, and strength. I will continue my practice at least one day each week and will try to do it more than that.

After my intensive EMDR sessions last week, the friends that I have here came to me--in person, by phone, and by internet--to check on me, to learn my experiences, and to encourage me to continue taking care of myself. It was that revelation of themselves, at their most caring, most supportive, most loving selves that gave me the sustenance I needed after such an exhausting week/month. I will be there for them, as well. I will give back in like kind. I will gather them around me, close to me, and feed them, literally and figuratively, from my bountiful table. I will do this as often as I can. I will call, I will email, I will keep the lines of communication and support open so that any one of us will know the others are there for her if needed. I have a weekly chat day with my friend online. This week, another friend and I are having an excursion for the day. Another will come three days a week to swim together. Each week, I will be generous with my time and myself, my home, my love.

Most importantly, I am dedicating myself to healing through my work on Recovery Nation. I embrace the challenges I face by working diligently, honestly, and openly, no matter how painful it may be, so that I can be the person I know I can be again.

Hi Cayo,

I don't know if you've seen this on the Community Forum, but I thought I'd flag it up for you. Coach Mel has posted some excellent guidance for building your Vision. Take a look:

http://www.recoverynation.com/partnersb ... 22&t=18712

FMT

My husband is not an athletic person. He doesn't enjoy being outdoors and was never interested in exercise. But he did have one "tell." Each time he became obsessed with someone new, he suddenly decided that he really needed to lose weight, get rid of the gut, get into shape. This dedication to a fit body was such a contrast to his normally lethargic self that it almost didn't take a gut reaction from me to know something was up.

My gut's working overtime tonight. I'm housesitting a friend's house. We watched a movie here and as he left to go back to our house, I asked which way he was going home (he usually drives right by the spa where the girl works that he had his latest affair with). My gut kicked in when he responded "I'm going straight home." Well, that's not an answer to my question now, is it.

After 29 years, I know all the patterns and being a codependent, I'm well-tuned to his mood, countenance, word-usage, etc. Over the last ten years, since the first Meadows treatment, I've let my guard down AND I think he learned a lot. He must have to be able to continue taking care of my needs while escalating his acting out without me suspecting a thing.

Hi Cayo,

In order to keep your lessons together, please post them all in the healing thread you've already started here:

http://www.recoverynation.com/partnersb ... 21&t=18601

Just hit the 'Post reply' button at the bottom of your thread to add your responses.

FMT

In all my research, I read a comment that a narcissist will have a difficult time successfully completing recovery. I would like to believe that my husband is self-absorbed because of his low self-esteem issues stemming from his family-of-origin and not that he's an inherent narcissist. But if the statement above is true, that will be his greatest obstacle.

His positive attributes are many. He's very sensitive and dearly loves animals of all kinds. He's also very generous, especially to those in real need. He has a well-developed sense of justice and progressive views on social/humanitarian issues. His need for recognition and approval drives many of his projects but luckily, they have all served the needs of others as well. He's gregarious, charming, funny and many times, sweet, all attributes that he no doubt developed in pursuit of his addiction but ones that he will continue to have in health.

I think that the "love" that he has shown me over the eleven years since Meadows I--while it may have emanated from a damaged, immature, self-serving persona--will continue to evolve throughout his recovery.

Lesson 5 - Stress management

Before my marriage, I went through two significantly stressful events in my life. One was when I was 16 and my mother became ill and then died two years later; and the other was two years later. During both periods, I used sex as a way to "manage' the stress in my life. During the first one, I began an affair with a high school teacher 21 years my senior (it's not for nothing that I call this time my "lost years"). The thrill of the affair was plenty of stimulation to keep me numbed to the reality of my mother's illness, her subsequent death, and the disengagement my family was going through during that time.

About six months after my mother died, I met my future husband. I was still involved in my affair, which made our time together extremely volatile. After about 9 months, my future husband moved away and I, suffering from severe abandonment issues already, went into a six-month period of sexual activity with numerous random, anonymous partners.

I think it's interesting to remember those times when I tried to "manage" the stress in my life because looking back, it was anything but calmer and more serene to go through them. How unfortunate it was that I didn't have anyone in my life throughout those years who could have helped me see other options, someone I had respected and listened to to guide me (although I probably wouldn't have listened to them since one of my most "respected" teachers seduced me!). All those years wasted. How sad.

Lesson Five - Stress management for my partner

My husband is a composer and has been from a very young age. I imagine that, without his addiction, he would have channeled his energy into his compositions and other activities involving music, such as organizing concerts and performing groups, concert tours, recordings, etc. He would have enjoyed the recognition and would have deserved it.

He has had a very successful teaching career and that would have also been a focus of his energies; however, excellence in teaching comes very easily to him so it wouldn't have been as satisfying as his efforts on the concert stage.

Lesson 7--My role in my husband's recovery
Well, it's early (4-5 months maybe, not sure), but I have had a role so far. As far as communication, I think that our work together on the Couples' workshop has been positive as has the 5-day workshop at The Meadows that we participated in. We both learned the "List Item" method of bringing up difficult issues and if I were faithful to it, I know we'd be more successful. I'm still carrying a lot of anger and pain and a lot of that tends to tear through the veil of calm I can generally wear. I'm not to the point yet of being able to get past my role of "wounded one," and although I'm well aware of that roadblock, I'm not sure I can overcome it until I go through a "Survivors" workshop at The Meadows this spring.

I'm more than willing to listen to him, though, and I regret that he (appears) to still feel too much guilt and shame (and perhaps fear) to tell me about any negative thoughts he may be having. I gave him a list item just yesterday related to this issue--specifically, that he has not told me of any urges or triggers he's been dealing with since the disclosure--and he told me there weren't any. A response such as that doesn't foster trust.

As for managing his recovery, I would have to say that I feel I've been much too involved in trying to do that. I told him about RN from the beginning (4-5 months ago), and he's just recently started the workshop. When I talk to him about his recovery efforts, I try to do it from the standpoint of how he's responding to my non-negotiables, hoping that that keeps me from crossing over the boundary of his responsibilities; but it has been difficult for me to stay out of it and I'm sure he feels like I haven't done that. One of my non-negs. was for him to get a sponsor but what I (we) didn't realize at the time was that "sponsors" are from the 12-step arena and we're non-12-steppers. He's started participating in an on-line agnostic group and we're hoping that someone (a type of mentor) will come from that.

I haven't been a very good role model for empowering him, what with my pain and anger still intact. I've tried to encourage him with words but I'm sure I haven't said enough or done enough to show just how proud I am of his work so far. I'm struggling with controlling/overcoming my fears and wanting to express my feelings, which always seems to send him back into his shame. I want him to feel safe enough to share more with me but I think he feels too much fear for that because of the feelings that come up. When I ask questions about his SA state today, he becomes defensive asking me if I really want to "go back there." It's a stressful situation for us both.

Questions B and C both have the same answer: I can't rely on anyone but myself to attend to my healing. No one can take care of me but me. Any actions taken, any changes to be made, have to come from me and that's what I'm working on.

Lesson 9 - Signs
A.
I think the most hopeful sign that my husband is in a healthy recovery has been his consistent attention to his in-person group attendance and involvement in the online group sessions. I think it's also been very positive that he appears to be dedicated to our couples' work by participating with me in the RN site or reading various books on SA/communication/boundaries, etc., or reading from other online sources every day.

B./C.
I'm combining these because they're related.

Most of the time, I'm feeling positive enough with myself to be able to praise him for his work and dedication. That's certainly not always the case, though, and when I do fall into a hole that starts me ruminating on something, I bring it up. The most troublesome behavior that I see him exhibiting is when I bring up anything regarding his past activities and he becomes defensive (and has, on some occasions, engaged in some blame-shifting). He usually goes into a guilt/shame funk that tends to shut down communication between us. He's told me that I can ask about anything I need to ask about but has also said several times that he "doesn't want to go back there," or "there's no reason to re-live that time," which I take as a virtual wall that stops all communication between us: I feel hurt and rejected and he becomes defensive and withdraws.

Rationally, I read his behavior as indicative of not being far enough along in recovery to have detached from the "addict" identity and have his "shadows in front of him," not behind him, still driving him as a former therapist described it. But emotionally, I'm still fearful that his response is because he wants to protect his secret world.

One other disturbing thing that I think is relevant is that he has not made a slip/relapse plan although I've said several times that this would be very important for both of us. The last time, he actually said he would "write that out for me right now," but that's been about a week ago and he hasn't done it. Another indication would be in relation to one of my non-negotiables, but I've addressed that already in another post and won't go into it again here.

Overall, my fear is that he is reactive more than proactive and at this point, without any new changes in his behavior, he's becoming settled into a routine and somewhat complacent about his work.

Stage Two, Lesson One - Values again

The most important values to me right now:
the spiritual connection to nature that I feel when I'm at the beach
the importance of a healthy life through veganism, meditation and yoga
the connection to others who care about me

I'm actively searching for a sailboat to buy now and my plan is to be sailing by the spring. I know I need this and that this need cannot be denied--I am a water baby and without the connection I have to the ocean I can easily whither and blow away. I have been going to the beach once each week and sometimes I have the opportunity to go twice. I'll certainly continue this.

My veganism is not a passing fad but something I have dedicated myself to. I have not been able to establish the habit of meditation -- yet -- but I will pursue it in earnest. There is a yoga center opening down the street from my house and I will be visiting it to get more information and then to attend classes.

I continue to email and Skype my friends and family on a regular basis.

Stage Two - Lesson Two Traumatic Discovery

The pain that comes from expressing "all the emotions that you have experienced as a result of their addiction" is twofold: what pain the addiction has caused and what pain my complicity has caused (I'm using complicity to mean something other than what is normally meant by co-addict, an offensive term that I've always rejected, along with victim, by the way). In these lessons, I always return to the time ten years ago when the first discovery occurred.

To my h:
You remember that I had gone through a few years of therapy and felt stable enough to leave ("I love you but I can't live with you."). You were shocked into the realization that you needed help and went to the Meadows (Meadows I). After you returned, I saw a different man; I saw the man I had fallen in love with 18 years before. If I had progressed far enough in my work, I would have known that my meager therapy/group work was not enough to prepare me for a return to the relationship with you at that time despite what I interpreted as "a new man" standing before me, professing your love, your loyalty, your regret, your promise never to treat me like that again.

I thought I was doing the right thing by quickly (within 3 or 4 months) trusting you again, completely and openly. I wanted to show you that I supported you and that I was there for you. And this I did for the next ten years. Until February 2011.

It's difficult to put into words the depth of betrayal that I felt when I found the letter you had written to her. What would they be? Crushed? Beyond that. Destroyed? Well, yes, but, see, that's too much. No healthy, balanced woman would have been destroyed by that. A woman of solid self-esteem would not have fallen into a black pit of despair, feeling worthless, less than a person, giving up (at times) on life.

I never saw it coming. I had been happy with our life. I wasn't prepared for anything-anything-to happen. A sane woman would have been secure in her own skin, her own life, living life on her own terms and rock solid in her values and convictions. What would have moved someone like that? Not this. She certainly wouldn't have felt defeated by someone like you, a mere man who had out-smarted her, taken advantage of her trust--her blind trust, in this case--to do everything he wanted to do. After Meadows I, I didn't think about the possibility of anything happening like that again. I was blindsided (because of my own blindness), manipulated (because of my malleability), crushed underfoot (because I had no substance), and, yes, destroyed (because I chose to give up everything I believed in to support you).

The anger came later (and is still an issue): after Meadows II, partial disclosure, and the weight and blackness of time spent without sleep. It's an anger bordering on rage, full of my feelings of helplessness and accompanied by the unpredictability and intensity of the triggers.

The "dis-ease" is progressive so the acting-out had progressed since 2000. The things you had done shamed and disgusted me (and you know I'm no prude); they troubled me because I suspected they had gone even farther than you admitted. But at the same time, I felt I had been abandoned (again) so you could live a fun, exciting, thrilling life (well, I was irrational much of the time!); and besides, I understood that no one would want to be with me, ever. You had it all and I had nothing. I was nothing. Of course. Who could love me? But did I deserve an STD?

And the lies? How, how, how could you tell the truth about absolutely everything in your life and still live a completely separate life that was absolutely all lies and deceit? I was supportive, I was loving, I was available. You took advantage of me, manipulated me, lied to me. You betrayed my love. You betrayed me. I may have been complicit, but I didn't deserve that.

And now? Where is the trust? I don't have any. I'm angry at you for taking my trust. I deserve a life free from fear, free from anger, free from the burden of suspicion darkening our relationship. I should be loved by someone who can respect me because I deserve it. Do you see me that way? I really don't know. I only know that I see me that way, and for that, I'm grateful.

STAGE TWO - Lesson Two: Traumatic Discovery (Letter from H.)
To my love,
And I do mean “my love;” I have been with you, shared with you and yes, loved you half of my lifetime. You have been the one person in my life who has known me better than anyone and in some ways, better than myself. There have been difficult times, moving, changing jobs, changing houses, all the stresses that come with any marriage. And all the stresses that come with living with my addiction. But you stayed with me, supported me in my work and my composing, and given me the stability and normalcy that I desperately needed and couldn’t give to myself much less to you. I’ve always said that you have been the only person in my life who truly loved me; I believe that’s true. It’s only one of the reasons that makes writing this letter to you so difficult.
How could I ever find the words to describe how I feel now, finally realizing just how much I’ve hurt you? Words are problematic I know. I’ve used them to keep my secrets and because of that I’ve destroyed your trust in me. But I’m begging you to listen with your heart because these words are coming from mine.
I could say that I want to take all of your pain away and carry it on my shoulders. I could say that I will dedicate the rest of our lives together—if there is such a future—trying to make up for all that I have done. I could say that I have never known anyone who has given me the love, devotion and trust that you have willingly given to me and that I have treated with such callous disregard and so desperately want you to feel for me again. Are those words enough? I know they’re not.
I have tried to explain how guilty and full of shame I’ve felt at the way I’ve treated you but whatever words I’ve used have not and will never express the true depth of my remorse. When I came back from Houston in June and you said to me that I was so like my father, I was devastated because I knew in that moment just how true that was: I had treated you just the way he had treated Mom, and I almost couldn’t bear that thought. You and only you would know how I felt in that moment. But even knowing that, is it enough? No.
I have no right to ask for your forgiveness but I’m going to ask it because I need to know that you can feel forgiveness for me. Maybe it will take the remainder of our life together for you to feel that, I don’t know. Please understand that it’s not to make me feel better about what I’ve done. It’s that I can know that you see something in me worth forgiving.
There’s a building in downtown Houston that you always liked. It’s the tall one on the west side of town that you can see as you drive down 45, with blue reflective glass windows and a top part made of gray granite. It was constructed as though the beautiful, bright, shiny exterior is concealing a dark, rough interior that can’t really be hidden, a core of ugliness that can’t be denied. You always said that it reminded you of the notion that we humans have of civilization: "civilization" is just a facade over our real, brutish, uncivilized selves that we'll always be.
I want to ask you to think of me as a reverse form of that building: that I have been living a dark, ugly, uncivilized life as a shell hiding the real me. That what people have thought of as “me” has been the lie and that who I really am is the bright, beautiful, loving human who has always been there at the core, unable to break free. You have been the only person who saw the real me from the beginning and for that I love you more than words could say.
I’m working hard to break free—completely and totally and forever. There’s nothing that I can say that could ever change the reality that I have been the cause of such pain in your life. But if you’ll stay at my side, I can make our future together the life you always dreamed of.