Today's beginning was a little sad. I got ready for work and dropped the baby off. My house was darkened and empty except for us. It was eerily quiet~ and lonely, except for his sweet little 12 week old cries.
I thought about the stark reality that our marriage could end. I felt like I was mourning and I fought every urge to just throw in the towel and tell him to come back now. I miss him. The parts of him that I love. I feel like he's a stranger now, and I long for what I thought I had.
It hasn't even been a week. Maybe I'm not so strong? The feeling of loss of our dreams, love, betrayal, the unanswered question of where we will end up years from now penetrates my very soul. Then the tears come randomly. Many times and days very often. Can I follow through on boundaries? Am I being too harsh? I am unsure of myself, I start to say maybe I AM being too harsh. I start to feel confused. He's manipulating again. I hear "all I want to do is come back home and love our family, why are you (me) making this so difficult?" Why am I? Because I continue to research this addiction. I clearly see his double mindedness, his instability, his abusive patterns, his dishonesty. I see a confused man who wants desperately to save his family but is willing to do only the minimum. That would mean he simply wants control. **Sigh.** Why won't he do more? I tell myself I know the answer. He's the addict. He doesn't see clearly. He tells me I am pushing him beyond arms length now, and I'm uncaring and self righteous. Doesn't he understand it's harder to do this than to cave?
No. He doesn't. His brain has been broken. I'm second only to his addiction. I KNOW this, so why do I question myself? **sigh**
I've started communicating with my long lost uncle via email and he wrote to me today. In some strange way I needed his out reach. He knows nothing of what's going on in my life. He just knows what my childhood was like. My dad was one of the most cruel people to exist. He was the most calculated, educated, abusive drunk alive. He was just evil.We endured so much abuse, both physical and emotional. My dad died this year. The police found him dead. I couldn't attend his funeral. I left home at 15. We had only talked once in 17 years. He never cared to make it right. I'm filled with pain. Not at his death per say, but from living a life of an unloved child. I wonder many times how I survived. One thing's certain now, as I look at my marriage I am sure, I am a codependent. I need 12 steps. I wanted to attend a CoSa meeting tonight, bu it's an hour away and I was at work all day, and without a sitter tonight. Why is it SAA has 3 meetings a week, but CoSa only has 1 with very few people attending? Don't women want to heal? What to do...
What a year of discovery. I don't like it right now. I'm ready to push fast forward. Where's that button?! ;)
I've been blessed and able to find greater strength through a few more websites I've found, Partners of sex addicts- www.posarc.com, and Sisterhood of Support- www.sisterhoodofsupport.com. Through reading these I know once again, despite his accusations and lies, I am not insane or cruel.
I still miss him. I miss our family. I want to crumple on the floor and just cry all night. I can't say it won't happen.