WHERE MIGHT I HAVE BEEN ALL THESE YEARS?

I just remembered I used to have this blog . . . It certainly helped me work out my thoughts and feelings about divorce. Divorce was the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. And I've done lots of hard things.

I ended my writing in 2017, the year my house was involved in a fire. I never mentioned that on the blog. But I was in shock for a long time. Also, someone was interest in getting a book published that year on divorce caused by pornography and they thought I would be a good resource since so many people "came out" to me after my own divorce. That has never materialized. Nobody wants to publish such abhorrent knowledge. I can't blame them.

But I do believe that working out my life "after fire" was the main thing I did at that time. That whole ordeal didn't get remediated until more than a year after it happened. I also had two more surgeries on my ankle, one in August 2019 and one six months later in February 2020. That took almost everything I had to recuperate. I had more to deal with than divorce, which I wanted to "release" from my every day psyche.

Then there was the pandemic and then there was an earthquake . . . 

. . . and then I retired from my job. That made me happy to be able to do the things I've always wanted to do but had to work. Haha! Everything I love to do can be done in my house and by myself during a quarantine--writing, art, music, crochet, reading . . . I learned I am a social introvert. I like my me time, but also like intimate gatherings. That served me well in 2020.

And my grandchildren were born starting in 2019, and one almost every year since. My life has been full of love every day. When they're here, my house is a happy place.

I have to admit, though, I still have triggers that lead me back to the abuse. I ask God every night, why do I keep thinking about this? It's been long enough away from that ordeal. But I suppose there are so many issues involved that I am still learning . . . every day.

I recently came upon several YouTubes on Narcissism. I tell ya' . . . that might just explain everything. And coupled with pornography addiction . . . Oi. Both are pervasive behaviors.

This therapist is my favorite on narcissism: https://www.youtube.com/@SurvivingNarcissism. The videos are not too long and he has many that have answered lots of my questions. From there, others will pop up that might help you as well. Also, I've discovered a lot about empaths on YouTube. I know I am one, though I keep it tamped down now. Empaths are usually the perfect narcissist's prey. As is  stated in this blog, the nicer the person, the bigger the challenge for the narcissist. 

I'm not the same person I used to be. When I think of that person, who lived in an emotional prison, I think of the patsy I was. I don't want to be hoodwinked again--beguiled, deceived, betrayed . . . I am still damaged from that. I don't trust people--can't even think about it.

I truly miss the nice person I used to be all those many years ago. I am now a very guarded person where once I was friendly and outgoing. I'm cautious. I don't show emotion readily as I used to, not even with my children. I have to force myself to smile and laugh sometimes, saying to myself it's okay to smile; it's okay to laugh. It used to be he could bring up any issue with a smile or a laugh. I just kept my face and my demeanor "even" so as not to stir up trouble that might blindside me.

But my face feels good when I smile! And my grandchildren always make me smile, and I'm not afraid of being that nice, kind person to them.

I have to give myself some credit for overcoming the after effects of my marriage considering all that I experienced. But being divorced is not my identity anymore. I am a whole person all by myself. I've discovered my love language, if those really exist, is giving handmade gifts, which I try to do often. I love the essay by Ralph Waldo Emerson about "Gifts":

". . . Next to things of necessity, the rule for a gift, which one of my friends prescribed, is, that we might convey to some person that which properly belonged to his character, and was easily associated with him in thought. But our tokens of compliment and love are for the most part barbarous. Rings and other jewels are not gifts, but apologies for gifts. The only gift is a portion of thyself. Thou must bleed for me. Therefore the poet brings his poem; the shepherd, his lamb; the farmer, corn; the miner, a gem; the sailor, coral and shells; the painter, his picture; the girl, a handkerchief of her own sewing. This is right and pleasing, for it restores society in so far to its primary basis, when a man's biography is conveyed in his gift, and every man's wealth is an index of his merit."

I must say, re-reading this blog from start to finish after so many years has been a walk down (the terrible-awful) memory lane. I found the video on Forgiveness to be helpful--again. I have released the terrible-awful over and over, but the C-PTSD follows me around to this day. Most will ask why? My answer is "I don't know." It just happens. I can't control when I'll be triggered and I have no control over responding to the PTSD. It's a trance. When I realize I'm in it, I do stop it. But minutes may go by. Many, many minutes.

I'm not sure I've released that terrible-awful completely, but the words of my friend--turn the other cheek and walk away--seem to be my answer for forgiveness. I walked 2,000 miles away. Another friend, who's a therapist, said I'd probably never be able to fully forgive, but to just stop judging him. There is One Who will be in charge of that one day. That has helped and has eased that burden. 

Also, he told me I have nothing to be ashamed of, or to apologize for. He should be the one who's afraid of me, not the other way around. What I'm actually afraid of is, on the few occasions we're in the same vicinity, at any moment I could spew a million hurts and rages at him. It takes all my restraint not to--which is why I could never be in an intimate setting with him. Even though he is the offender, I would look like the villain if that happened. He was just in town and at my granddaughter's primary program at church, which is probably why I'm triggering so much. But it will calm down eventually.

I do always like to combat the dark with being thankful for the light--the miracles that exist in my life. And I do thank God every day and every night for my now wonderful life. I have all I need. I am blessed. I have discovered my real self, and I like me very much. In fact, I discover new things all the time.

I now have grandchildren, and they bring me such joy and happiness. They are young enough at this point in time to not know why they have this single Grammy in their lives--without a male counterpart. I suppose it will be soon enough they will figure it out and question. But I hope I've shown them enough love that they, in turn, will love this Grammy, who loves them with my whole heart and soul. 

 

I hope this blog has helped the few people who have discovered it. I don't think I'll write again. I think readers will glean a lot of information from here if they need it. And, again, I'm sorry you might need this information. It's rough. I'll just keep it "out there" in cyberspace. I've never monetized it. I wrote for my own catharsis. I don't really want to be discovered, but a few have come forth and said it was helpful. That's all I can ask. 

C-PTSD--I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW THIS WAS A THING

I just found a blog for those who are going through C-PTSD (Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder). I never heard of it before, but if you're like me, and have suffered the flashbacks and debilitating symptoms of living with an abusive or NPD (Narcissistic Personality Disorder) person, this blog article is for you.

https://www.elephantjournal.com/2016/10/living-with-c-ptsd-following-an-abusive-relationship/


Let me know what you think. What's YOUR story?
 

GOOD ADVICE

Not Enough

In my thirty-three years of marriage, I was often barraged by my husband with abusive harangues of not being thin enough. I had let myself go since the children were born. I would not cater to his needs enough. The house wasn't clean enough. I wasn't organized enough, tidy enough, perfect enough. There were so many "not enoughs" that my self-esteem shattered and my self-worth was non-existent. He had me convinced I was such a loser I wasn't worthy enough to even live.

There were a few times I planned my death. I became obsessed with thoughts of driving my car into a telephone pole, or a wall, or off a cliff. At length, I became convinced that if I was such a horrible person, I didn't deserve to raise my children. I was not a good enough mother. My husband, who was perfect, would be up to the task because I didn't do a good enough job--of anything.

My friends saved me, as usual, by lifting me up and buoying up my psyche so that I was able to "consider" I might be "okay" enough to live. One of my friends, when she noticed how depressed I was, told me that if I ever had any thoughts of killing myself, to call her--no matter what time of the day or night. "Even if it's three o'clock in the morning--you call me!" she commanded. At that, I actually wondered, "If she loves me that much, maybe I am good enough."

I consulted a therapist for depression.  Of course, when she asked what was my problem, I just said, "I don't know." And in my mentally-defective mind, I just denied everything--even to myself. She suggested Prozac. I couldn't have lived through the last fifteen years of my marriage without it.

This photo was taken in August 1996 when I wasn't "thin enough."

Whenever I see the photograph above, I am reminded of my life at that time--tumultuous. About ten years earlier is when I had sunk into such a deep depression, I had the suicidal thoughts mentioned above. It was a struggle every day to live with my non-compassionate, unsympathetic, and narcissistic, abusive husband. I put on a good show in front of others--just as he did--pretending we had a perfect family. 

Two years after this photo, I had those same suicidal thoughts, but I had dealt with that dark side and vowed to myself and God that I would NOT kill myself. I sought therapy instead. Many times.

Two months after the above photo was taken, my world began to collapse, slowly, like the crack in a delicate egg. I had thought that, despite his abuse, my husband loved me. (All co-dependents think that way.) He was a good provider, and he was good with the kids, who loved him. I was "enduring" our marriage, yet still had that hope our relationship would work itself out somehow. I didn't realize then that, showing respect for their mother was what makes a good father. Being "good" with the kids only meant he sometimes had fun with them, but he was abusive toward them as well.

It was a Friday night in October. My husband was planning a business trip for Monday. It had been ages since we had been intimate. Since he had been unusually nice to me that day (yes, I hoped in days only), I made advances to him when he got in bed.

He pushed me away. I asked, "What's wrong?" but didn't want to know because it was probably something I did. He had never turned me away up until that time.

I tried again.  He pushed me away again. He leaned up on his arm, looked at me with disgust, and said, "I've lost my desire for you."  He rolled over on his side away from me as I lay next to him, questioning, his venomous words echoing in my brain.

"What? What do you mean? What does that mean?" I asked over and over, but got no response.

I angrily kept asking him. I pushed him and pulled on his shoulder and ranted, "What do you mean by that?" not able to process it in my brain, not caring if he would turn on me with verbal abuse--or even physical abuse.

With no reply whatever, I grew even angrier and began to punch him in the back, all the while questioning, "What do you mean, you've lost your desire for me? Tell me! Tell me!"

At that point, adding insult to injury, he feigned snoring.

I fell back on my pillow, my sobbing shook the bed. I couldn't control my anguish and humiliation. I tried to stifle my sobs, not wanting to wake the children, but I couldn't help it. My pillow was wet from my tears, and my sides ached from crying so hard and so loud.

No movement from him. None.

After that incident, I pulled away from any love I had for him. I had to break my bond with him. It was the only way I could save myself. I never let myself love him again. It was a long process, but an easy one, because he was very accommodating by being abusive to me. I stuck out the marriage for the sake of my children.

At that time, I was forty-two years old. I had four children, the youngest was five. I thought of my friends who had similar circumstances and wondered if their husbands had no desire for them. He always told me I was too fat--and I believed him, but losing weight didn't seem to bring any reward. I was always not enough in some way or another. If I lost weight, I wasn't toned enough. If I did aerobics or walked on the treadmill, it wasn't doing the job and I should have more self-control. Even the lady at Weight Watchers advised me not to lose any more weight when I was 125 pounds. They wouldn't be responsible for it.  My idiotic ex actually said, "Who do they think they are? Weight experts?"

My mother visited. It was Sunday after church. We were walking about in the yard admiring the flowers and she pulled out her camera and said, "Let me take a picture of you."

I said, "Oh, Mom, don't. I'm too fat. I don't want my picture taken."

My mother actually stomped her foot on the grass. "You are not too fat! You are beautiful! And I want to take a picture of my beautiful daughter!"

Because I wasn't cooperating--I just stood there--my mother further yelled, "Smile!" The look on my face shows a tentative smile, like, "Okay. I'll humor her. Who's going to see it anyway?" (Before the days of Facebook.)

 

Years later, after the Triple A divorce. I looked at that photograph again. I know I'm not beautiful, but I gasped as I saw I wasn't fat either! My therapist at the time tried to tell me I was a good weight for my age after having four children in my thirties. I figured she was humoring me too. But now I can see, at forty-two, I was pretty good for my age!

A big thank you to my mother for insisting on this picture. It has saved my self-esteem immeasurably. I still have that dress, by the way. It's a size "Small."

 

Now, twenty years later, I am angry again for letting him make me feel "not enough." If only I could have seen that I was enough--and way too good for him!!

After the divorce, I researched the effects of a pornography addiction and realized that was why I wasn't "enough" for him, and why he lost his desire for me. It wasn't my fault, though he never stopped blaming me--even after I found his porn. Who can compete with the teenagers in those porn DVDs and videos? I don't even want to. It disgusts me to this day.

I hate pornography.

Abuse Wheel

Please take heed.

Look carefully. 

This wheel might just be describing your life.

I admit, most of what is covered on this wheel was a part of my life.

Take this wheel to your pastor or marriage counselor.

Come out of the closet.

Acknowledge that this is your life.

You are worth it.

Please get help!

This Is Why I Have This Blog.

True Colors

This is good to remember, especially for recovering co-dependents like me. If something doesn't seem right, it isn't. Don't try to fix it. Take care of yourself. 

Put on your oxygen mask first. 

Then skedaddle out of there.

 Bleeding Heart blossom; CC0 Public Domain

"The typical divorced person has a painful love wound resulting from the ending of the love relationship, a love wound which prevents him/ her from loving another. It takes a good deal of time to be able to risk being hurt and to become emotionally close again." 
(Rebuilding When Your Relationship Ends, 3rd edition, Bruce Fisher and Robert Alberti, Impact Publishers [2006]).


Don't beat yourself up, or think you're a loser because your friends and/or family think it's been long enough to still be harboring grief, resentment, anger, co-dependence, distrust, betrayal trauma, or whatever it is that is burdening you.

Everyone has their own healing pace.

It's not a race.

Take care of you.

True Love vs. Exploitation

The right side of the graphic above was the story of my marriage. It's for this reason, I'm not sure I could date someone, or have an intimate relationship with a new spouse. I am a damaged partner; one who was called "not enough" of whatever it was he wanted or needed. 

I know now he wanted and needed pornography.

Months turned into years when there was no sex in our marriage. Earlier on, he had told me all I had to do was touch him and he'd be ready. After his porn addiction escalated, he would actually push me away if I tried to initiate "love making." I wasn't aware that "love" was removed from the equation of our marriage. 

Silly me.

The last time we had sex, he couldn't do it. I didn't know what DE (Delayed Ejactulation) was, but when I found out, my married life made sense. (But to think he couldn't really have sex with me unless he thought about those smutty porn scenes, really disgusts and humiliates me.)

Before that last time, more than a year had gone by since we were intimate. I remember confiding in my best friend. She just said to keep trying, that maybe it was because of his age (50s?). I wondered if he had a prostate problem or something he wouldn't talk to me about. And he wouldn't talk to me about it. Whenever I asked, he just gave me a look (like it was my fault because I wasn't good enough) and said, "You don't really want to know, do you?"  Since he made me feel so small as it was, no, I didn't really want to know, because it was probably my fault.

Such is the mindset of a victim and co-dependent of a partner's pornography addiction. Taking on the fault.

When I found his porn, I was totally shocked. I thought--what? We had previously discussed this sorry behavior and agreed it was egregious. Yet, the addiction was there for him, unbeknownst to me. I was being played.

The time from our last sexual tryst to our divorce was four years. Four years without married sexual encounter or intimacy. Why did I think that could be normal? I wasn't in denial, because I clearly was concerned, but he didn't want to talk about it, and I didn't want to be blamed for it.

When I told him I found his porn, at first he blamed me  for snooping around in his personal things. (??!!) Then he quickly blamed me for being boring. 

Ha! I thought, "I am not boring." But, now that I know of his addiction, I realize anything less than those young girls jiggling around nude in the DVD would have been seen as boring. I wasn't aware at the time that he had escalated to real world experiences. I couldn't have competed with that. I wouldn't have wanted to.  And the fact that I found money taken out of our accounts on a regular basis, led me to believe he was seeing prostitutes. "That's the going rate for prostitutes," was what one of my friends who had found her own husband's porn told me. That shocked me too! I thought, "He would never!" But there were a lot of things I thought he would never do. 

But I guess being celibate saved me from STDs. Some of my friends weren't so lucky with their porn-addicted husbands.

I only hope that when other victims of their spouse's pornography addiction read these things, they realize they're not alone. Or they are awakened to this information and finally realize it's not their fault.

I thought I was alone. 

I felt very alone.

I hope, if you feel alone and don't know what's happening to you because of porn, you will take time to read through some of my posts on pornography. Just search at the top right of the sidebar of this blog. As I was going through the experience, I had no idea. Now that I'm out of that relationship and have had time to research the nuances of a porn addiction, I look back and realize I was along for the ride in his full-blown addiction. Wondering. Confused. Self-worth splattered. Betrayed. Shattered. 

As I read the left side of the graphic above, about true love, I am reminded of what I had hoped to have in my marriage, but didn't. This is why I wonder if I could ever trust another man. If I ever felt that closeness, would I back away wondering if it was real? This topic is not often covered because it's what the victim of porn feels. You can't trust again because you've been betrayed. To forgive is equated with co-dependence. "I will not go there again" is the defiance to a much-desired lifestyle of being loved and cherished.

I do long to be loved and cherished. I just pity the poor man who might try.

Have Courage

In my book, Connected in Love, one of my characters, Cammie Bentley, is the wife of a verbally abusive man, Like all abused women, she is afraid of him. She's afraid to make waves. She's afraid to cross him. She's even afraid to voice her own opinions, knowing he will be upset and take it out on her by harangues, vindictive threats, and passive-aggressive actions.

The Main Character--protagonist--Mary Donohue, tries to convince her she must have courage to be able to stand up to him. Cammie is still afraid, even knowing she has to make a decision. His outbursts are escalating. What she doesn't know is, his pornography viewing is also escalating.

Mary convinces Cammie that courage does not mean you aren't afraid. Courage means you do what needs to be done despite being afraid.

What are you putting off because you're afraid?

Verbal Abuse, Part I--Excerpt from My Divorce Memoir

From My Memoir: The Year of My Divorce (names are changed)

January 27, 2010

I’ve been going online looking for information by PatriciaEvans. She’s the one who wrote “The Verbally Abusive Relationship.” I read it about fifteen years ago. Lo, and behold, she’s written more books. I sent away for all of them. In fact, I bought two of everything and I’m going to give the extras away, like to Isabella to read, or the stake president.

I found out I’m not the only one who’s been going through verbal abuse. It’s amazing that I’ve lived for so long not knowing about it, yet, there it is, plain as day in my life.

Men call their wives names and wives wonder, is that abuse? Men abuse their wives, then the men act happy, like nothing ever happened. Wow. I can relate to that.

Jerry would spend an hour screaming at me, leave me for dead, emotionally, then the next thing I’d hear is him whistling like he was the happiest person in the world. I can’t stand to hear anyone whistle now. It brings up too many bad memories. Come to think of it, my dad did the same thing.

So the website says verbal abusers almost universally act like nothing happened because they feel the relationship is fine and they feel like they have more control—power over. If they get you to feel afraid or to back down, it makes them happy.

Abuse usually happens behind closed doors. That’s true in my life. Most verbal abusers are charming and helpful men in public. Jerry treats me very well in public. He can scream at me Saturday night and the next day in church he is sweet as pie—in front of other people. Most of the time I just stare at him, wide-eyed, confused.

One time he bore his testimony in church about how he owes everything to me and that I help make him the man he is. He had just spent an hour deriding me to tears the night before and I couldn’t even take the sacrament because I had so many bad thoughts about him.

While he went on at the pulpit, I felt like I was going to throw up. I had to hand over my baby to someone sitting behind me so I could run to the bathroom. I can’t remember who it was. I spent the remainder of sacrament meeting dry heaving into the toilet.

When we got home, I told him, calmly, if he ever did that again, mention my name whatsoever, I would be the next one up to bear my testimony and I will tell them all the real story. He never did that again.

The website also says women who have been abused don’t take to an abuser, sexually. That’s because we’re too traumatized and don’t have any trust in the man. Women need to have trust in order to be intimate. I don’t know how many times I’ve said that to Jerry.

Women are not turned on to men who abuse them. I told him one time, men can be ready for intimacy one minute before midnight. Women start at eight o’clock in the morning to be ready for intimacy at midnight. What happens during the day affects them all day.

Reading this website also tells me that men only change to get their partners back, but once they have them back, they slowly start the control again. How many times have I been through that? Too numerous to count. Abuse, abuse, abuse; win back. Repeat.

Once I tried to watch “Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde,” the Spencer Tracy/Ingrid Bergman version. I couldn’t watch it. It hit home too much.

And now, on top of all the abuse I’ve suffered over the years, there’s adultery. How much more do I have to take?

I’m supposed to be working on my marriage and I only have anger that needs to come out.

Forgive me, Lord. What should I do? Help me, Lord.

What is Forgiveness?

 

There was a fantastic article in my church magazine last month that explained a lot about forgiveness. It was exactly what I needed to read to spark me to climb this next step.

As a doctor, the writer, Benjamin F. Call, said choosing to forgive leads to better health, increased optimism, and better relationships with others. He also said he's learned forgiving others brings great spiritual blessings, including peace--and hope.

He explained what forgiveness is. To forgive is to bestow pardon for an offense, to let go of blame and to release that great burden brought on by the hurt. He said it is to move ahead with life. That is exactly what I need to do. I need to move on. I'm tired of being Debbie Downer. I don't want this divorce grief to define who I am and be the only conversation I can have.

Call also spoke of what forgiveness is not. It doesn't mean you condone the wrong, nor does it mean we should stay in a harmful or abusive relationship. I wish I knew that thirty years ago. I always thought I needed to forgive the abuse, but I didn't realize I wasn't required to endure it.

He also said forgiveness is not forgetting. We'll always keep the memory of it, especially since that memory caused us to have to forgive in the first place.

One of the writer's phrases caused alarm in me. He said failing to forgive magnifies the pain. Yikes! I didn't realize that. I suppose it's like a wound that never heals, but festers. All this PTSD I have might be negated through forgiveness. Call said the key to the ability to forgive is resisting the urge to place blame. Hm.

Another great quote in the article--"Keep a place in your heart for forgiveness, and when it comes, welcome it in." I have to learn the past is written indelibly in stone, but the future is not. I can't change what happened to me, but I can control my reaction to it. I can move on.

A piece of advice was to write down grievances, which is what I've been doing for the past five years. He suggested starting to write things by retelling them with a forgiving attitude. It will invite a good spirit and bring a sense of closure to hurt feelings.

I'm not sure I can turn all the vitriol around at this time. At least not all of it at once. My life has a big elephant in the room. All the sordid events happened and I've told about them exactly from my point of view. My experience was very devastating. I was used, abused, betrayed and deceived. It's a lot to get over. I've had five years to mull it around in my psyche and I really don't want to do that anymore. I feel like I've lost five years of my life. It's not who I am. I don't want the Tripple A Divorce to define me. I want to get on with my life.

Spencer W. Kimball said, "A common error is the idea that the offender must apologize and humble himself to the dust before forgiveness is required." I knew I would be starting from scratch, with no apology. Forgiveness, for me, has to start at its most basic element with no outward impetus. I have to forgive regardless of his neglect to repent.

I realize I will never receive an apology from my former husband. As someone diagnosed with narcissistic personality disorder (among other pathologies), he will never see himself to blame for anything that happened. If anything, he blames me. He is the victim in his own story. Oh well, I have my own story, too.

James E. Faust said, "Forgiveness is freeing up and putting to better use the energy once consumed by holding grudges, harboring resentments, and nursing unhealed wounds. It is rediscovering the strengths we always had and relocating our limitless capacity to understand and accept other people and ourselves."

I have to remember this. I am older now and don't have quite the amount of energy I used to. Whatever energy I do have, I want to use in a good way and not in a negative way.

I also know that all my strength comes from my Heavenly Father, Who loves me. I can also rely on the saving Atonement of my Savior, Jesus Christ. I want to feel peace again.

I do still want to help others overcome their steps to climb in divorce. Otherwise, I would feel it all happened for naught. I have to believe I went through this for a reason, and I'd like to think it's to give perspective to others.

I hope I am still doing a service by having this blog out in cyberspace. I'm still on a learning curve in this crazy ride called "life."

And so, I try to master another step. Wish me luck. (. . . she says as she jumps up to get a foothold on this next tremendous step in the divorce process.)

Stuck on Another Step

 

 

I said in my last blog that receiving that check in the mail, which ended three months of back-and-forth with lawyers, has caused me to find some happiness. The happiness is not in receiving the money, but in knowing I used courage to stand up to him and won the battle.

I hope I don't have to repeat that. Perhaps he now knows he is being watched by more than just me. However, I think the courage step will be well-worn before the last battle is over.

I have also been thinking a lot about forgiveness.
Forgiveness is hard. I would much rather repent than forgive.
I've been sitting on the courage step now, just sitting, my legs dangling over, looking down at all the many, tall steps I've conquered. I've climbed a mountain of steps. I now look up at the monstrous step of forgiveness and am daunted.
I thought the courage step was intimidating.

I've been reading a lot about forgiveness, and friends have told me it takes a while, like a flower unfolding; you won't even realize it's happened. Some have said it's not a destination, it's a journey.
I know I have to forgive--not for him, but for me.

There's a scripture in my church: "I, the Lord, will forgive whom I will forgive. Of you it is required to forgive all men." I think about that often.

Even though I have forgiven him seventy times seven--million--times, I know this time is the one that counts the most for me. I have to forgive him, not in a co-dependent way, but in a godly way, so I can let go of all the hurt and pain of the past. This is courageous forgiveness. It will take great faith and hope and patience.

I know he will never change toward me. He will always harbor the abusive attitude. He will always try to initimidate and lord it over me. He will always see himself as a victim. Working through the lawyers taught me that. I just have to tell myself it doesn't matter anymore. He can't hurt me anymore. Like a mantra.

It's been five years since I learned of his infidelities. In a few days, it will be three years since the divorce decree was granted. Hallelujah! That piece of paper proclaimed my freedom from him.

Now I need the freedom forgiveness will bring.

Legs still dangling, I wonder, where do I start? I look above me at the gigantic next step and wonder, how do I do this?

A Woman's Plimsoll Line: an excerpt from my memoir

September 30, 2010

I found an interesting article on the internet about a woman’s plimsoll line. I didn’t even know what a plimsoll line was until I read it. It’s a marked waterline on the side of a ship used by sailors to let them know when the boat is filled and can’t take on any more cargo.

If you look at a plimsoll line as the “last straw” or “crossing the line,” then this analogy works very well for women who are/were abused or victims of infidelity. I hit my plimsoll line this year. I couldn’t take on any more of his nonsense. My burden over the years accumulated and it became too great to bear . . .

 

Each woman's plimsoll line is unique. Each woman's burden is her own to carry, or discharge if the line is breached.

 

I remember drawing that line, on the kitchen table, back in February. I told him, "This is the line. I am here. She is there, on the other side. You need to choose."

 

What I didn't know then was that the choice was really mine, and had been all along.

 

What Say Ye?

I started journaling my divorce experience since I first found out about my ex-husband’s affair in 2009. I put it in a password-protected Word document on my computer. I didn’t want anyone to find out about it. I was embarrassed, humiliated, angry. . . if anyone read what I wrote—what would they think of me?

I let it all out during this journaling time. When I got to counseling, the therapist told me I should write it all down and get it all out. I told him I had already begun. It was cathartic. I could say whatever I wanted about my marriage and my (ex) husband and nobody would know about it—well, except God and my guardian angels. Yet, I felt Providence was leading me, guiding me to discovery about the terrible, awful secrets harbored by my spouse. Anything I said in my journal didn’t come close to comparing to what he was doing.

I found the pornography after we were in therapy. A legion of red flags was waving in front of my face. Still, I persisted in counseling and in “working on my marriage,” presumably with my spouse.

Since I moved out west, I have been taking that vitriolic verbiage and editing it into a memoir. I was hoping to publish it someday, but I don’t want my kids to read it. However, I do want others, who are going through the same thing I did, to read it.

Thus, this blog.

I would love to know how others of the same experience dealt with their ordeals. But I understand if you’re too afraid to comment. I urge you to comment anonymously. Whatever you say could be the exact thing another woman needs to hear.

Letting "The Dream" Die

I have been messaging back and forth with a dear friend who went through her divorce at the same time I did. She has vast courage for dealing with what has happened to her.

 My heart ached as I realized how much she was like me. She would have stayed married forever, believing in eternal marriage, even though her husband was a total, creepy, cheating jerk.

 She was a wreck thinking her marriage covenants were broken because of what he did—abuse, adultery, addiction. My friend now knows, it’s not her fault. She did not break her covenants. And she knows it’s better to leave an evil spouse than to possibly die by his hand. (I say “his hand” though I guess it could be “her hand,” as well, especially when bi-polar disorder is in the mix as it was in my case and hers.)

 Another friend told me once that my situation was uncommon in that, I was still married to someone with bi-polar disorder. I told her I intended to stay married because I believed marriage is eternal. I thought I could hold it together, but, of course, we all know, it takes two to work on a marriage.

 Still, I couldn’t imagine killing “The Dream.”

 I envy those who seem to have wonderful marriages, yet I know other people probably envied me because I never let on what was going on at home. In public, we were a perfect couple with a perfect family. Co-dependency is like that.

 And, if you do believe in the fairy tale of the forever marriage* (I am speaking to co-dependents now, not those with really happy and eternal marriages),  imagine how devastating it is to discover the offensive secrets your spouse has been hiding—adultery, pornography addiction, prostitutes—on top of the abuse you’ve been putting up with for years or decades.

 Ask yourself, is it the spouse you want to keep, or The Dream? Do you want to be abused, or do you want The Dream? No matter what?

 Yes, for some of us, it’s The Dream we want—no matter what. We created The Dream, fantasized about it in our minds and our lives, and perpetrated it on the public’s perception. Save face. Look good. Deny. Always deny.

 It’s The Dream of a perfect life that dies in a divorce. The Dream shields us from Reality. Say good-bye to The Dream, along with your destructive and, possibly, fatal marriage. 

 Some of us bear the loss of The Dream better than others. It takes time. Once the co-dependency of an abusive marriage is dealt with, leaving it behind is easier.

 I admire all my many friends who let The Dream go, like releasing a balloon in the air and watching it flicker away over the hills, over the mountains and into the clouds. It wasn’t easy.

 It’s one of the hardest steps you’ll ever climb.

 
What is your story about The Dream? Any advice?

 
* I’m trying to focus on helping others see beyond The Dream when they are in an abusive relationship. I acknowledge there are good marriages. I have many friends who have told me there is no abuse in their marriages, because they know my plight and I need to know there is goodness and trust in marriage.

Teen's Porn Brain Article Was Too Soft

By Susan Knight

 

Warning: this blog post may be too graphic for the faint-hearted.


We've all been there. One website led to another. Only this was an article about how porn affects teenage brains, and not porn itself. Click on the title below.

 

Your Teen's Porn Brain

I think the article was too soft. It wasn't scary enough. The author should have delved more into what can and does happen to the brain when viewing, and getting addicted to porn.

The sad part was the comment section. Most of the comments were by teenagers who have NO IDEA!

 

The following is what I wrote in the comment section:

 

I didn't read every single comment because it got me too frustrated.

You all have no idea . . . really . . .

I was so naive about the harm pornography causes. For those of tender teenage years, you haven't lived through a marriage that was torn apart by a husband's pornography addiction that began in his teens.

He never knew or understood what true love is, or showing love through the sexual act, which should be a private display and not public. It's supposed to be intimate and beautiful, not public and rough and wretched.

First of all, pornography, like anything, will be addictive to those with addictive personalities. Not all people who drink alcohol become alcoholics. Some know when to stop drinking. Not all people become addicted to porn. At some point, they know when to stop watching and can stop themselves.

For those who don't stop, the pleasure part of their brains need more and more to be satisfied. What was titillating last week needs to be upgraded this week. It's the dopamine effect.

Addicts then proceed to advanced masturbation and cannot be satisfied by physical sex between man and woman because using one's hand causes more pleasing friction than a vagina. Normal sex is not supercharged enough. It's not like the porn they watch, forgetting that camera angles can be deceiving, and editing can create a beguiling fantasy. Not to mention, bodies that are enhanced by plastic surgery.

And don't fool yourselves. Women are degraded in pornography. It's too graphic to describe. Lives are ruined. It's a dirt-bag industry--billion-dollar industry.

The chemistry in porn-addicted brains changes, leading to a form of brain damage. Pornography reaches all five pleasure points of the brain. Heroin, three. Yes, it's more addictive than heroin and more is needed to satisfy. Then those images become all they think about, even at work. I would like to see the statistics of how many men are fired for viewing porn at work. I know of men in my own company who have been caught and fired. They cannot quit it to work.

Eventually, because the ruse of porn is obsessive and the craving can't be satisfied by real life, men stop having sex with their wives/girlfriends.

I knew a man who was involved with a gorgeous woman, a super-model, athletic type, but he chose porn and prostitutes who would give him the dirty-type sex he desired--porn--which his girlfriend knew was appalling and not how real lovers behave toward each other.

Women, who are co-dependents to this behavior, have self-esteem issues because the message they get is that they are not good enough for these sex addicts.

I didn't know any of this in my life until my husband's porn addiction came to light. I quickly found out what I was up against. It's like dealing with any other addict.

After my divorce, and I confided with a few about what happened and why, so many women came out of the woodwork to talk to me about their situations, similar to--and worse--than mine. We helped each other cope and we continue to help each other heal. It's a long road with many steps to climb.

Pornography is a betrayal like infidelity, especially when spouses view it in secret. Like all addicts, they lie, steal money from joint bank accounts to fund their addictions, seek prostitutes and, for some, go over to the darker side of deviant sexual behaviors. Oh, yes. It's true. Unfortunately, I know about it firsthand.

For those whose partners are OK with it . . . I suggest you examine your reasons for putting up with it. What is the purpose of it? Why is it OK for your intimacy to be so damaged yet acceptable? Wake up!

Unfortunately, you will find out, in the end, it's not worth it.

 

 

I don't know if my comment was published. Too graphic? I had to stop myself.

Preface For a Book Perhaps . . .

I kept a journal through my whole divorce process. To say it is vitriolic is an understatement. Those who have been through it will agree it is necessary to get these "feelings" out of your system. You are full of hate and yet want to appear "dignified." It's a dichotomy of thought righteous women go through when bombarded with their husband's indisgressions.

My hope is to write a book about this journaling some day to help other women (and even men) who are going through what I did. I couldn't find a book that applied to me and what I was going through. The content of my book travels the steps from discovery through denial, from fear to finding courage, and up a lot of other steps I didn't see myself ever climbing.

The good new is, I'm divorced. Happily divorced.

Last night I wrote the preface for a tentative book about Divorce and Courage. I don't have a title yet. That will come later, maybe with my readers' help. Some of this copy I've used in the left-hand column of this blog. It might need some tweaking, but below is the rough draft:

When I was experiencing the phases of my divorce, I thought I was the only one going through the events that unfolded.

I was wrong.
There are many women who experienced—and are still experiencing—what I did. Some of us found each other and commiserated, but we had the same questions: Why did this happen to me? How could I have let this happen? Why didn’t I see things clearly? What comes next? How much more do I have to endure?
The precursor to my decision to get a divorce was the Triple A: Abuse, Adultery, Addiction. Sound familiar? As a co-dependent, I kept our family life very well-hidden from the public. My mission was to save face—look good. My husband cooperated very nicely to that effect when in the company of our friends. Everyone thought he was a “really good guy.” Nobody had any idea what our family was going through.
Now I know my mission was to stop the abuse and save myself. I also hope my children, and the generations who come after them, will not cause or succumb to these same offenses.
If this sounds familiar to you, you might like to read this book and find out you are not the only one.
This is not a self-help book. There are no “Steps to a Healthy Divorce” within these pages. It’s a self-realization book that describes the huge steps you will climb during the discovery, denial and divorce processes. Sometimes you will fall down a step or two, but you will keep climbing. You have to—to be a conqueror.
It takes courage to get a divorce. I was the least courageous person you’d ever meet. I lived in fear and denial.
If I did it, anyone can.

 

I hope you never need this book. I hope this preface might entice you read it.

I'd love to hear from anyone who might have similar questions, feelings, or who might be in the very first stages of discovery. By that I mean, finding out about the other woman, pornography, verbal abuse, husband's apathy.

What are you feeling? We can help each other. Count on it.