Shopping For Pain In The Costco Of My Brain

It's time to write about a self-defeating behavior of mine.  Pain shopping.  I seem to do it when things are going smoothly between my husband and me.  When there is some peace and harmony in the marriage.  Sometimes he has just expressed a large amount of gratitude or love for me.

When I shop for pain, I subconsciously browse down the aisles of my brain.  I scan the shelves for painful things my husband has said or done in the past.  There are plenty from which to choose.  When I find one that feels still raw and bleeding, I pull it off the shelf and fling it at my husband.  It sounds something like this:

"Ya, but remember the time I was sick, and you blah, blah, blah?"
"What about that one time when you said blobbity, blah blah?"
"Then how could you have done blah, blah, blah?"

Another way I shop for pain is to ask for more details of his past acting out.  It sounds something like this:

"I bet you did blobbity blah blah when you were blah blah blah.  Didn't you?  Didn't you?"  I look at him with disgust.

Now there was a time last year, when I was in the finding out stage, when I needed to ask a lot of questions.  I am sorry to say it took close to nine months of serious and consistent effort for Mr. W to fully disclose to me.  Those were dark times.  This included a formal disclosure in our counselor's office.  That was excruciating.

I feel there are no further details of his past sexual misconduct that would be helpful for me to know at this point.  But, when I pain shop, I forget that I don't want to know more, and I think up hurtful questions.  Pain shopping hurts us both.

My husband now has some significant sobriety under his belt (yes, pun intended).   Even though his progressive victory over lust means he still has lust slips, and those do hurt me; he is not causing me the kind of pain he did last year.  So why can't I just bask in the peace, gratitude and love he is exuding now?

Because, apparently I am getting something out of this regurgitated pain.  I know I pain shop out of fear.  I think I pain shop to protect myself from more pain.  This is getting confusing.

Somehow I feel that if I don't bring up the bad times, Mr. W might think everything is dandy!  And how about we go right now and consummate all this dandiness?

Somehow I feel that if I don't bring up the bad stuff, he might not feel sorry enough.  He may not know how much damage he has done.

If I bring up the bad stuff, I get to stay in victim mode.  That's it.  That's why I do it.  When I am with my husband, the pain of being a victim is far safer than being vulnerable.

Maybe I am waiting for some invisible person out there somewhere to yell out, "Yes, Wildflower, you have been treated like crap!  Look what horrible things the person you love has done.  And yet, look at you!  You are a saint for sticking with this guy."  This is me NOT looking to God for my validation and acceptance.

And so I sally forth in my journey of self-discovery, shopping for pain, and seeking validation from invisible people.