No amount of words can fully express the pure hell I went through when the drugs wore off. Physical pain. Emotional pain. It was unbearable and I was terrified. An hour into the withdrawals my body started to sweat and shake. It felt like I had the worst flu of my life, x1000.
And then the real pain started.
This indescribable pain started to slowly engulf my body. Every inch of my body hurt. It hurt to move. It hurt to hold still. It hurt for anything to touch my skin. My body was exhausted beyond anything I’ve experienced, but I couldn’t hold still. Somehow my whole body was nauseous. My body was restless and I felt claustrophobic in my own skin. I wanted to rip my skin, my hair, and my insides out. I just wanted the pain to stop. Besides doing the drug again, I tried everything I possibly could but nothing lessened the pain.
Then my brain was flooded with immense shame and DOOM. It hurt in a way I never before knew was possible. My spirit hurt. All these horrible memories came flooding in like a raging tidal wave of horror. Imagine seeing every wrong choice, every mistake you have ever said or done, and feeling it completely present in front of you. Every single one. And then imagine being able to feel and know, to the full extent, how all your mistakes and wrong choices affected other people and the pain and damage you have caused them.
I couldn’t do anything to escape the horrid shame and pain. I felt worthless. I couldn’t eat. And until my sister helped me go to the doctor later on, I didn’t sleep for 4 days straight. It all hurt too much. So I laid there, writhing in agony. I was racked with torment, wishing I could cease to exist.
. . . All the while desperately attempting to care for my infant boy by myself.
And none of this,
NONE of this,
compared to the pain I felt upon learning of my husband’s sex addiction. All the pain in my entire life does not come close to the agony I felt having the husband I love and cherish lie to me and manipulate me time after time after time.
It’s hard for most to comprehend the reality of this pain. People don’t get it. It’s just pornography. It’s his problem, not mine. Right?
I’ve been the addict before. I’ve done the lying. I’ve done the cheating. I've done the manipulating. I put my ex-husband and others I loved through hell. And I deeply hated and loathed myself for it. But those were minor scratches compared to the gaping wounds I felt left by my husband’s pornography addiction.
I married a man I loved with every fiber of my being. For the first time I allowed myself to be vulnerable and gave him every part of me. He was my protector. My best and dearest friend. I trusted him with my life. I trusted him with my children. I trusted every word he said. I looked up to him. He was my knight in shining armor returned missionary and priesthood holder. For two years I thought things were good, and I was happy and saw things with rose colored glasses.
Then a couple years into our marriage I found the pornography. All the lies, manipulation, minimizing, anger, tension, and gaslighting started bubbling up to the surface. My whole world came crashing down.. "Was it my fault? Am I ugly? Am I too fat? Am I not good enough? Do I not love him enough? Do I not have enough sex with him? Do I not clean my house enough? Am I not spiritual enough? Should I get plastic surgery and act differently? Surely I must have done something for him to turn to pornography and lies, instead of coming to me, right? I don’t look like the women on the computer. So what did I do?"—I replayed these thoughts over and over in my head.
I was scared. I didn’t know who to talk to. I tried talking to my husband, but he became defensive, manipulative, and blaming toward me. I tried my best to be the loving, patient wife. I wanted my husband to feel it was safe to be honest and talk to me. I wanted him to know that if he was struggling or made a mistake that he could tell me, that I would be supportive because I wanted to help him.
But the pornography, lies, manipulation and anger continued.
I still loved him. I saw the good in him. I believed in him. I wanted to be able to trust him. I encouraged him. We had long, long deep conversations. We cried together. We laughed together.
But the pornography, lies, manipulation and anger continued.
I slowly got more upset. We went to see the bishop. He told us not to tell anyone, and he helped us with counseling. My husband went to meetings and worked on the 12 steps. He got a sponsor. He got so much attention, support and love from everyone.
But the pornography, lies, manipulation and anger continued.
Everyone praised my husband for doing SO GOOD. They gave him pats on the back and high fives. They told him he was in recovery. Our counselor said he was doing great, that there wasn’t much more he could do to help him. My husband started a blog and inspired other addicts and gave loads of spiritual recovery advice. His close friends and family thought he was so strong and noble for putting up with me. Wait, what? Putting up with me?
But the pornography, lies, manipulation and anger continued.
Now I was the crazy one. I was the angry wife who just couldn’t forgive and move on and accept that my husband was doing great. No one comprehended what I was feeling and I was alone. Because, hey, I should be happy my husband was doing so great, right? What the heck was wrong with me!!???
But the pornography, lies, manipulation and anger still continued. Not only continued, they got worse. My husband didn't learn to get into recovery, he learned how to better lie, hide, and deceive.
If you have not dealt with sex addiction, you probably don’t understand. I need you to understand. Please understand.
I woke up one day and found out my husband was a lying sex addict and my whole world fell apart. Which way was up and which way was down? I had been lied to my entire marriage. Was my marriage even real? My husband wasn't worthy to get sealed in the temple to me and my kids. Was the sealing real? My kids were abused physically and mentally and I didn’t even know about it. Was I the horrible parent? I didn’t know who my husband was. I desperately tried to make sense of these two different lives. Which one was real? My life before, or my life now? Was it all a lie? Was everything my husband said a lie? Is he still lying? When will he lie again? Will his addiction progress to molesting children? Do I somehow attract only addicts? Do I deserve this? Are all men liars and addicts? Is no man a worthy priesthood holder? Does God not love me anymore? Did He ever love me? Am I making everything up and completely insane and living in an alternate reality in my mind!!!?!?
My husband refused to be honest. It wasn't the pornography that hurt so much. It was the incessant lies. I wanted desperately to believe my husband. I wanted to trust him. But to be told "truths" every day, only to find out later they were actually lies....it kinda makes a person doubt their existence. Here my husband continued to look at porn, lie to me, and abuse my children, and he received praise and support. And there was crazy ol' me.
My reality was gone. I was so confused and didn’t know what to do. Over time every immodestly dressed woman, every magazine, every TV show terrorized me. Everyone else's happy life haunted me. I was in a never-ending panic, trying to prevent being hurt and lied to again. I could no longer function as a mother. After a while I was too overwhelmed and traumatized to even care, and I slowly sank into a pit of confusion and despair without even realizing it. I wanted to give up and run away.
I was humiliated, embarassed and ashamed. I felt like an idiot. I wanted to hide from the world. I thought if people knew, they would think I was stupid, a bad wife, and that it was my fault. I felt forced to lie to everyone, even myself, because I didn't want anyone to think ill of my husband. I wanted to protect him from the consequences to his actions. So I hid our dirty little secret. And the shame and despair grew and grew.
Then I learned I was suffering from a form of PTSD called Betrayal Trauma.
When I finally worked up the courage and told my immediate friends and family, their advice was almost MORE traumatizing. I knew they loved me, but they couldn't understand why my husband looking at pornography would be so traumatizing for me. Again, it’s his problem, isn’t it? They wanted me to try to go on more dates with my husband; they told me how wonderful a man and father he was; and they said things like “At least it’s just pornography” or "At least he still loves you".
People at church received an outpouring of love, meals, and support when someone was sick, had a baby, lost a job, or moved. Yet there I was in the worst agony of my life, terrified, not wanting to exist, and suffering in silence. Alone.
My life used to be like a brick house. Then the person I loved the most came in and bulldozed it. Completely demolished it. And after my husband tore everything to pieces, he made me doubt myself.
"Why did you bulldoze my house?" I asked.
“What? I didn’t bulldoze your house, it wasn’t me. I can't believe you would think it was me! I love you I wouldn’t do that to you. Was it someone else? Did YOU bulldoze your own house? I’m doing great. Why are you always attacking me? I didn't say that, YOU said that. I don't know what you’re talking about. I don't remember. That’s YOUR fault. I don't understand. Why are you angry at me? Why is nothing I do ever good enough for you? I’m trying as hard as I can. I'm telling you the truth. You’re so mean. Why do you hate me?”
I went to work trying to rebuild my home. But my husband swooped in again and destroyed it. Over and over and over. I had nothing left. I was exhausted. I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't "heal" my home while he was knocking everything down.
So we separated. I started working on myself and rebuilding my broken boundaries. The Lord led me to a group of the most amazing women I've ever met. A group of women who all know EXACTLY how I was feeling. A group of women that instantly showed me a love and acceptance that I never knew could exist in my life. My beautiful courageous Togetherness Project sisters :) And a miracle happened---I started to heal and see hope for myself! The sun started to shine again :)
I am no longer the only traumatized wife. I will never be alone ever again.
But there are millions of women still suffering in shame and silence. We need help. And we need you to understand.
http://makemyburdenlight.blogspot.com/2014/05/understand-me.html?m=0
I understand. Thank you for sharing. I developed Addison's disease after the first eight years of my marriage. It was caused by overstimulation of my adrenal glands in response to extreme marital stress. I didn't know of my husband's addiction until after my mother came into my house, picked me up off the floor (I was too sick to move) and took my two sweet little girls and I to stay with her. We were officially separated. I went into the hospital a few days later. My body was shutting down. Kidney and heart failure, brain damage.
ReplyDeleteI recovered somewhat, after another visit to the ER, the eventual discovery of my Addison's, and lots of steroids to keep me alive, and took him back after he disclosed his pornography use and committed to recovery.
Ten years later my precious 16 year old daughter is doing meth, after being ostracized by her father over the years for not being like the bishop's daughter (among other traumatic experiences with her father). My two youngest children have learned to hate her and she has learned to hate herself. "What are YOU going to do about it ?" he frequently asked me.
After the repeated public humiliation of having our sexual acts reproduced by my husband in public when he became upset with me, waking up in the middle of the night to a middle finger and his angry whispering a inches from my face, among other degrading, and demoralizing experiences, (there were also days that were good), I felt my body deteriorating once again. The drugs had stopped working. My body was shutting down. I finally told him I wanted/needed a divorce.
I am scared to discover his reaction/retaliation.
We separated. He went to the bishop to divulge, again, that he had been using (he had had setbacks over the last ten years, but none involving behavior as harrowing as this time).
The bishop feels like we should stay together. This is devastating to me. I have value. I am not something to be used to satisfy someone else's ideals. I know in my core we should no longer be together.
My husband is trying (in recovery again) and I am ... he says. I am crushed. I have value. Don't i?
Oh, KK. You have value. You have infinite eternal value. You are enough, because you are God's. You are in my prayers. I believe that listening to your gut, to the Spirit, will bring you to wherever you need to be in life. Hugs.
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