Wednesday, October 30, 2013

Am I Dreaming?


What a night.  A week I guess. It's been 12 days since I moved upstairs after a long, angry, tearful, anxiety ridden night full of blaming, denial and admission. I really don't feel comfortable getting into the details, especially since Husband specifically said he didn't want to share in the first place since he feels like I tell everyone everything he tells me - but what I can say is the next morning I knew that I needed new boundaries and I needed to be honest with Husband about my expectations.

So.......

We had an honest conversation about the fact that I was moving upstairs for an undetermined amount of time.  I communicated that he would need to find someone to talk to about his addiction because I couldn't do it anymore. After he found someone to talk to (and actually talked to them) I would consider coming back - if I felt safe. No guarantees.

I had a lot of guilt from the boundary setting and for moving upstairs. I told my S-Anon group I was really concerned that this was manipulative and that I was undermining my true want - for him to just want to be better and go find help without ultimatums and without "consequences."  What my group helped me understand is that doing what I need to do to feel safe is not manipulative (yes, I have to go to a weekly addiction support group for them to share revelatory ideas with me that aren't really revelatory at all.)

One woman flat out said to me: "Ginny, do you want to live in a relationship with someone who has a sex addiction and is doing nothing about it?"

(obviously) "No."

"Okay - then the reality is that in order for this to work, he needs to do something?"

"Yes."

"There's your answer."

Not fair. Why was that so easy when I had someone to talk to about it? They say that's why I need a sponsor. Dear God. I can't bring myself to do that right now.  I can just hear the conversation now: Hi, ____, this is Ginny.

Hi Ginny. (S-anon style)

I was wondering if in the midst of your full time job, family, friends, church commitments, s-anon group, and your own sex addiction ridden life - you could help me with mine?

Um, yeah, Thank you Ginny.  I am honored you would ask me that but the reality is.....

Yeah, no. I can't take that kind of vulnerability and rejection right now.

Anyways.

Husband told me on Monday (10 days of upstairs sleeping) that he made an appointment with a counselor for Sunday. He also bought a book at Barnes and Noble about Porn Addiction.  I didn't ask him what the book was, I just said that was good and I hoped he liked it. What I was really thinking: THIS IS AWESOME! I can't believe this is happening.

But wait. It gets better. 

Fast forward 12 nights of sleeping upstairs by myself to this evening (about an hour ago actually).
He wanted to know if he could talk to me about his book - I said "sure."  He goes on to tell me how he thinks this book is helpful and that he really was hoping he would discover he didn't actually have a problem and this would prove it - but that's not the case (yes, because I'm putting myself through hell for the "fun of it," yeah a freaking carnival I can assure you).

Then, he started using words like triggers and recovery and steps and journaling and I. was. in. shock.
It's happening.
He gets it.

Step One: Admit you have a problem and you are powerless over lust. (paraphrased)

Honestly, I'm terrified of the let down and when we'll crash and burn. But I am going to let that go. "One day at a time." "Let Go and Let God."

Tuesday, October 22, 2013

12 Step

I think it's time to write about S-Anon.  Because the group is anonymous and everything shared in the group must be kept anonymous, I really can't share anything about what happens from 7:30-9 PM on my Friday nights. However, I want to tell you about S-Anon, about my recovery and what I'm doing these days to take my life back (even if it doesn't feel like).

I had two goals going into camp in September.  The first goal was to figure out if my husband really had a problem (denial) and the second was to figure out what I was supposed to be doing about it.  Obviously, confirmation of the first was evident as soon as others began to tell their stories.  The second goal - I quickly discovered was not going to be very simple. Each story revealed to me how each person's journey is unique to them and their partner.  However, I did find some common themes that helped me get a pulse on my situation and what seemed logical moving forward.

1. Do what I need to do to feel safe immediately
2. Start a journal
3. Start taking care of myself
4. Talk to other WoPAs
5. Set boundaries
6. Start recovery process

Recovery process? This I learned for most partners of Sex Addicts begins in some type of 12 step program (or something like it) such as S-Anon.  I have heard of another program called Addo and another called Lifestar.  Lucky for me, there is quite a network of SA and S-Anon groups here in the Portland-Vancouver Metro area.  When I got back from camp I decided to go for it - but I was sooo nervous.

When I pulled into the church parking lot - there was one other car parked there and it was dark.  I pulled up in the spot behind the other car and just sat there. I thought about going home. I thought about just staying in the car. But I needed it and I knew it.

I sent a facebook message to my Scabs Sisters and put on my big girl panties. It was time.

I went to find the room but the building lights were out and all the doors locked. I walked back to my car and the other woman parked there rolled down her window and asked "Are you here for the uh...um.. 7:30 meeting?"

Me, being direct as usual, "Yeah, the S-anon meeting."

She laughed - probably more out of relief than humor - and started to tell me her story. It kind of scared of me. It was just a lot and I was scared anyways. But atleast I had a friend to walk in with.

The group coordinator pulled up shortly after I started talking to my new friend and we found our room. The location was...ironic...I guess. We meet in a children's sunday school room. Seriously. I know. It still freaks me out and I've been to three meetings.  Parts of the meeting were really confusing, I didn't realize that they really do introduce themselves and say thank you "name" over and over again. I'm still not used to it but it's catching on.

I cried when we read the S-Anon problem. I cried when I shared. I cried when others shared. And I just cried. It was so good. The meeting format was familiar - it had a liturgy I understood from my newer Anglican membership and I enjoyed the quiet time we spent writing. The group read Step 1 in my honor, since I was new - I needed it.

Step One: We admitted we were powerless over sexaholism--that our lives had become unmanageable.

So, I have been to three meetings, I bought the book (2 day rush) and I'm working through Step 1. I think it will probably take me another week or two to finish but I can tell you it's changing me.  I can't sit here and tell you I feel better and happier and I'm on top of the world. But I will say that it's turning over soil and bringing emotions, thoughts, and feelings to the surface that needed out.  I have probably reread Step One atleast 10 times and I get something new out of it each time I read it.

I think this is saving my life.

Tuesday, October 8, 2013

Scab's Sisters


Background: Shortly after the Netflix incident, I went on a google rampage (if you haven't done it, you will). After 6 years of broken promises like "I won't do it again" and "I won't ever do it again," I figured there had to be something "wrong" because it hurt so freaking bad and he still did it. I knew he couldn't control the impulse but I didn't know why. I wanted solace and I wanted to know someone to give me a reason.

[Enter Two of My Favorite People Ever] - Jane and Scabs.

I found their blogs during one of the google rampages and I couldn't stop reading. I saw myself in their stories. I saw my husband in their stories. And most importantly, I found a name for this uncontrollable impulse that causes immense grief, pain, trauma, heartache, loneliness and confusion: Addiction.

"Seriously?", you say, "Duh."

I know. Like I said before, Denial and I are good friends.

While hawking Scab's blog one day at work (July 2013), I noticed she had posted about a camp she was coordinating in Idaho. "Hmmm...interesting...maybe I could go to this camp. I could figure out if HE has a problem. I could get a plan."  So, I emailed Scabs and registered for my spot at Camp Scabs. I bought a plane ticket and committed to a weekend in a remote cabin in the middle of the woods with 18 other women I didn't know whose husbands are sex addicts (crazy much?)

The morning of my flight was filled with anxiety. Will I have to tell my story? What if they can't stand me? What if my story traumatizes them? What if my ugliness makes them reject me? What if there's no coffee? Where will I poop? What if I can't poop? (ok, I know that's nuts, but c'mon, I can't be the only one that thinks about these things).  I won't even put on paper the fears I had about the difference in religious beliefs (it's embarrassing and not okay).

To cope, I bought Starburst Jellybeans, Pretzel M&Ms and a Maxim magazine to burn. (Yeah, I could write an entire blog post about the humiliation of checking out at the grocery store with those three items but I will leave that to your imagination).

I boarded the plane: 1 carry-on, 1 personal item and a lot of emotional baggage.

What ensued was a life altering experience.  Women who understood my pain, listened to my story and forgave my trespasses - the extension of grace from these women brought so much healing.  And their stories, oh their stories, changed me. And I'm not talking about me sitting there listening and pitying their plight. I'm talking about admiration for their courage, the love for their family and spouses, the "ovaries" to walk away when it's time to be done and the strength to be vulnerable and the willpower to heal and seek recovery.

I didn't take much to realize that "he had a problem" - I figured that out on the bus ride to the cabin.  But what I took away from that weekend was much bigger than that: I have a problem. I have codependency. I have trauma. I have "defects of character." I have courage. I have bravery. And most comforting of all - I now have this beautiful group of friends that are willing to share their knowledge, wisdom and friendship which is pretty amazing.

What did we do: we ate, we talked, we burned crap, we cried, we laughed (really hard) and we healed.

I wish I could share every detail and divulge every thing that happened - because it all changed my life. But I can't. And I wouldn't. These are my girls -  my Scab's Sisters - and what happens at camp stays at camp.

This is what I will say: Find someone to talk to - care about yourself - join a recovery group - go to camp - and get on the bandwagon people.  Your friends are waiting for you.