A Complicated Journey

Ok, ok. I know you're being supportive but I beat myself up enough as it is, so trying not to be too hard on myself right now. It's ok, I'm taking it one day at a time.

Thanks for your support, I know you mean well - just feeling a little fragile today!

 

Day 17

Not sure if journalling will help today, but may as well give it a go as not. Yesterday was just a rollercoaster of ups and downs, culminating in him losing his temper and then sitting across the room watching me having a panic attack neither saying or doing anything. When I asked him why he just watched, he said "you told me to give you a few minutes", which I had indeed said before the panic attack came on in full.

This post isn't to list "all the bad things" he did, or to detail the arguments for further analysis later. This journal today is just to try and get down in words how I feel, and then maybe I can reflect on it properly when we're both in a better place.

I feel like, right now, I'm living with a stranger. This man supported me through clinical depression, stood by his sister's side when she was in a bad place and decided to go no-contact with his abusive mother. He told me about his addiction, he made the choice to fight against it and become a better person. He's been to counselling, read books, and completed a PMO reboot first time. His first reboot turned his life around, and every day I saw him grow and build confidence, finding new parts of himself that the addiction had destroyed.

I don't know what's going on with him right now, but he's a complete mess, and an empty version of himself. My husband never would have impassively watched me have a panic attack. When I calmed down, I just felt this chill go through me, like he'd just watched me being hurt by someone, and decided it was no longer in his interests to help me. Like a stranger. He has no goals this time for his reboot. He's trying old patterns to fix things, but he's a different man now and old methods won't help him.

Meanwhile, I don't know what to do with myself. I can't help him. He's withdrawn, he's letting the addiction become the reason for "everything failing". He can't control his anger or give any love, but that's not his fault, it's the addiction. He doesn't have any sort of plan for how to get better, but the addiction is making him feel overwhelmed and so he can't find a place to start. It may be true right now, but that doesn't render him powerless. Alcoholism is not an excuse for a man to hurt his wife, and sex addiction is not an excuse to neglect your life partner.

If he can't or won't trust me, if the addiction has taken over his head to the point where he wants to completely shut me out until it gets better, then there is nothing I can do. Ok, I don't know how addiction feels, so maybe I have to trust him. He needs to shut me out for a while, however long that may be, until he sorts himself out.

Here are the problems I now have.

I don't think I know of any successful addiction stories where shutting down and deciding to go it alone were the best options. In fact, I'm pretty sure dropping your only accountability partner is the first step on the road to all kinds of bad things happening. And what am I supposed to do in the meantime?

He doesn't want my opinions right now, but this is my journal and my safe space to express how I feel. I think he's absolutely lying to himself, and if he doesn't turn this around it's going to push him into depression and I'm going to find it harder to find reasons to stay and help. Yes, the addiction is real. Yes, it's the most difficult thing he may ever have to deal with in his life. No, you can't give up and wait for something to fix itself. Something I do know is that the addiction will do whatever it can to foster isolation and secrecy.

Being an addict makes you good at lying. You've had to be a good liar your whole life to hide the addiction. And it teaches you to lie to yourself, to keep the damaging cycle going. If he closes down, if he tries to go this alone, he's going to fail and despite his current coldness and distance, I know the real him. I know he doesn't want to break up over this.

He frequently tells me how much he loves me, and every time I try to explain that although he's saying he loves me, he's not doing anything to show it to me or being a loving person. I'm totally shut out of this relationship. My struggles as the partner of an addict are left for me to deal with on my own. My help is not wanted, my needs for connection and love are met with the reply of "I'm trying! Why isn't that enough for you?".

That's a hard one. That's such a hard question to answer. When someone says they're trying, that is all you can ever ask of someone. There is no justified reply you can give. I've tried to explain that he's not trying to show me love, he's going through the motions to satisfy my needs while still inside being angry and scared, which isn't the same. I'd guess that this clearly means he doesn't love me anymore, but he says he loves me over and over again.

So maybe he's just not ready. This would also be ok, except for the terrible feeling that he's making no real attempt to change other than sticking to his PMO.

If his addiction has become so bad that I'm starting to feel unwelcome in the same bed, that he has lost all ability to give unconditional love and affection to his partner, that he can't handle the emotions of day-to-day life, then he needs to get serious help. I want to find him a sponsor, or enrol in online counselling, or find a twelve-step program, but I've been relegated from partner to observer, and he just keeps insisting that he wants to do this by himself.

He's forgotten who he is. He hates it as much as me, I know he does, but he's still letting it happen. I can't do anything for him. I think that's the curse of the partners of addicts. You watch them drown in it as you sit powerless on the shore, hoping they'll come home. They have to want to change. They have to want to come back to you and open up. And you know that before they fell back into the addiction they would have never even left your side.

So, now the realities of Monday. He goes to work, I get on with my day. And inside I'm panicking because there is nothing I can do but wait.

 

I need to learn this. I told him the other day that he's not being active in his recovery, and he broke down and said that he couldn't, and I immediately jumped back in and took over trying to do research or find steps for him to take.

I'm so scared that if I step away he'll choose the addiction over me, but I know when he's been "sober" that he wants to beat the addiction, and losing our relationship over it is one of his biggest fears. Watching an addiction cause someone you love to make decisions they've asked you to never let them make is completely shattering.

I came across this video just now, and burst into tears when he said that the only job of the partner of an addict is to look after yourself.



His journey is up to him now. My job is to express how I feel in a reasonable manner, and find my own support until the man under the addiction comes back to me.

 

Today feels more positive than yesterday. I gave myself permission to be sad and angry and frustrated and all the other emotions mixed up inside me. I also cried lots and listened to videos and podcasts reassuring me that I was not at fault, I didn't cause this and I can't fix this. I realised I was taking too much responsibility on myself, and that the best way I can help my husband is to look after myself first.

I've potentially got my first therapy appointment in two weeks, but I think just reaching out for the appointment was the most important step. The therapist might be awful, or misunderstand me, or a thousand other things. But sending that email is the first time I have asked for help for me. Not for "our" problem. Addiction is his problem, and I will wholeheartedly support him in every step he takes towards healing, but I also need to look after my own needs and heal my betrayal trauma.

I also realised that I don't need to live as though I have an addiction. For example, when my husband indulges his addiction he watches lots of movies and plays hours of video games to 'numb out' from reality and to numb the feelings of addiction. So, in an attempt to put some boundaries together while he's rebooting, we've put the PlayStation away and stopped watching movies. After the 90 days, he will hopefully be able to make better decisions with a clear head.

And I've been taking the same boundaries for me. On my own at home I spent my time trying to stay productive, not indulge in tv, not browse YouTube, reading self-help books, setting boundaries and checking in with the addiction. This is, I now realise, pretty stupid. I don't have an addiction. I'm allowed to watch tv. I'm allowed to do things that feel good without feeling guilty.

So 'within reason' are definitely important words to add here. I don't want to click through YouTube for 8 hours then wonder where my day went. And I don't want to indulge in behaviours he uses to 'numb' his emotions when he's at home and struggling. I feel that would be like eating chocolate cake in front of someone on a Whole30 reboot.

On the other hand, setting these boundaries for healthy and non-healthy behaviour is subjective. Just as I can't do his recovery for him, I also can't set boundaries for him. Instead, I'll decide what I want to do for my own self-care, what my own boundaries are in the relationship, and hope that he'll find his own boundaries and needs in his own time.

Self-care today:
Long shower with music playing
Catch up on laundry and cleaning to feel happy in the flat
Plans to watch some old 'Murder, She Wrote' episodes later with a blanket on the sofa

That doesn't seem a very long list, but it's a start.

This morning, I also sat down with my husband before work and, with no intent to take over and control anything, asked him very seriously if he wanted to beat this addiction. He said he did.

He also said he was confused, has no idea how to do it, wants me to leave but when I actually leave he wishes I hadn't gone, and that he loves me and feels like he can't trust his own brain right now. Taking a deep breath. Leave all these other thoughts for now. Letting that all wash over me. I am compassionate of his feelings, but I do not need to solve them. What I needed to know was whether he wanted to face his addiction, and he does. The rest will come with time and healing.

 

Last night was a struggle. We had friends come over to play some tabletop RPG, and as the game master I run the session. This means lots of talking, decision making, character acting and storytelling for about 4 hours straight, and although I really like our friends and I think everyone had fun, I felt a little like I was watching it all from inside some kind of bubble.

I feel like I’m floating in my own protective sphere the last few days, and I know enough about betrayal trauma and depression to know that this is a withdrawal I have felt before. It’s like the vulnerable part of me hides for a little while to heal, but life keeps going on outside so I live in a bit of a fog for a little while.

Sometimes people were talking and I realised I’d just stopped listening. Not that I was thinking about something else or that they were boring, just like my hearing faded out and I suddenly realised I had no idea what just happened. Struggling to be aware of the world outside myself.

I feel sad. Very sad. Not hopeless though. When I let go and started to process the idea that I have no power, good or bad over the addiction (I say started to process, because this is going to take a while to really understand) I got more in touch with my emotions.

Realisations:
I am more sad and hurt than I thought, and have been hugely suppressing my own emotions and needs for fear of a volatile reaction from my husband. When he’s in that addiction cycle he can get very angry and his old destructive behaviours come up. I realised I can’t go to him for my emotional needs right now.

He needs to learn to be vulnerable, yes, but this goes back to previous learning about not trying to step into the addicts shoes and do their recovery for them. He needs to open up and be vulnerable, but while I’m in a bad place and can’t trust him to care for my feelings, I have no obligation to open up and give him access to my feelings until I feel safe. Until I know he’s in recovery. I still love him very much and want to support him, but I’m entitled to protect myself from harm until he’s in a better state.

When I think about people with PTSD or trauma, I think of men who have come back from devastating war, or children who were physically abused. When I read books about sex addiction after d-day, there were many sources that said spouses can suffer from the effects of trauma and PTSD, and I automatically discounted myself. Nope, not me. I felt traumatised, yes, but the thought of going to a therapist for PTSD just because your husband masturbated...I’d be laughed out the whole country, never mind the therapy room.

This week particularly, I’ve finally been finding support material for me, the partner. That I need and deserve help. That it’s not a ‘normal’ thing to go through, it’s perfectly ok to not know what to do, to need professional help, and to not be somehow magically equipped as a partner to sort out the addicted person’s problems.

Positive consequences:
Since I realised these facts, I have stopped ‘fighting’ everything. I’m not fighting against the addiction. I’m not pushing for recovery. I’m not fighting how I feel.

This week, I feel sad, so I’m just letting it happen. I realised that I used to do that in the past, but over time because of my husband’s addiction and his narcissist FLEAS I’ve learned to hurry my emotions on so he won’t get frustrated with me.

Rather than push him to start recovery, really looking at my emotional state allowed me to tell him, with no anger or frustration, where I stood. That I love him, will support him, but he’s on his own right now.

I started reading a new book to help me, listening to podcasts to help me, and have started to try and introduce more self-care. I’ve made peace that until he’s in recovery I can’t rely on him or trust him and know that from speaking very clearly to him he understands where I stand.

And the next day, he suddenly started reading a new book on sex addiction and talking about recovery.

Letting go was the worst feeling in the world. Putting absolute trust in the one person in the world who has broken it the most. But I’m listening, and waiting. ‘Staying positive’ I suppose.

One day at a time though. And if you are reading this sweetheart, I love you very much.

 

No worries at all. Like I said, I still appreciated you were being supportive ☺️ Part of NoFap is learning, and looks like you’re doing a good job!

Thank you, me too. Looks like there might be all sorts of groups online too, so I’m feeling hopeful.

 

@A well-wishing comforter :) It looks like you're spreading lots of support and advice around NoFap, which is great. However, I feel a little like generic positive comments and advice on my journal and profile aren’t super helpful to me personally.

I see from your history that you also post the same thing on lots of people's posts and profiles, and again this is a lovely thought but as this is quite a personal journey for me and the well-wishing just feels a little awkward. I hope you can understand!

 

The blanket is, sometimes, exactly the thing you needed. I hope your communication in your own relationship is going well, and I hope he reaches out as well. Sounds like he has the most supportive partner in the world if he can just decide to say no to the addiction. Wishing you well today. xx

 

Thanks @Sir Wankalot, you understood me perfectly

 

This morning I didn’t feel like getting out of bed, so I listened to an episode of the podcast Sex, Love and Addiction called Narcissism and Addiction. Honestly, I was a little scared to press play on this one, but of all the episodes this was the one that had been sitting there waiting to be listened to every time I opened the app.

My husband’s mum was extremely emotionally abusive to both her husband her children. There were periods of time that I have heard about where the abuse escalated to physical violence, and both kids were emotionally neglected.

I think everyone dreads the idea of the awful ‘mother-in-law from hell’ trope, and so when I met my new boyfriend’s mum, I was very nervous to find out what she would be like. After a few meetings it was clear she absolutely hated me, and I was devastated. It took years before I realised that it wasn’t me personally she hated, but that I’d taken the love of one of her children “away from her”. The family dynamic was extremely tense and confusing, and things just got weirder and weirder. Eventually, as things do, there came a number of breaking points and, thankfully, my husband and sister were then able to identify her as having NPD.

In the podcast episode, Dr. Rob talks about different types of healthy and unhealthy narcissism, and says that it’s only NPD when there is no remorse. Well, it turned out that there was absolutely no remorse for anything from her, and as of writing this post she has lost nearly everything over her behaviour and still comes back from any attempt to explain with the old “and I’d do it again, do you hear me!” type reaction.

But that, thankfully, is all over. What is still relevant about that is, of course, the very negative affect it had on her children, namely the one I’m now married to. It’s linked to all the roots of his addiction, and he’s either genetically inherited or learned growing up these same behaviours that help him keep his addiction going. Lying, disregarding other people, gas-lighting, that sort of thing.

But he absolutely has remorse. The podcast also describes how these behaviours go up and down along with the cycle of addiction, and when he’s not in the addictive headspace my husband absolutely can see that he’s caused hurt and, although I’m having a hard time trusting him because of the addiction, he seems genuinely sorry for what he’s done.

The problem we’ve always had is that then the next addiction cycle starts or whatever it is that triggers him, and the behaviour starts over. Extremely frustrating from a wife’s perspective.

Learning that the behaviour is so closely linked to the addiction, and that therapy for addiction actually simultaneously teaches addicts how to empathise and be more mindful in their relationships was a really great thing to hear. That they aren’t two separate issues.

He never saw a healthy loving relationship in his house growing up, and he never learned how to express his love to someone else in a healthy way. He’s learned so much from where we started over six years ago, but now it’s clearly the point where he has to take it up a level and get some professional help.

In the meantime today, I’m still feeling a little foggy, and I’m (as ever) worried about the choices he will make every day. He opened up and talked more last night, especially about growing up and various stages of his addiction, so the more he can do that the more hopeful I feel that he’s going to start doing something about it.

I’m also worried about the weekend together. He can be so up and down that I have no idea what to expect. That’s something I’m looking forward to during recovery; a more consistent partner. But it’s not the weekend yet, still today to get through.