Just Lying or Really Trying?

MM posed this question in my comments section, "How do you tell when they switch from just lying to actually trying?"

I haven't always known, and I don't think I will always know in the future, but this time, this is how I knew.

1.  The slips he had were things he wouldn't have called slips a year ago.   I can see that his bottom line has risen.  That indicates what the White Book calls "progressive victory over lust".  Of course, I wish the victory over lust would progress at the speed of light and burn up in a cloud of cosmic dust, but that's sadly not reality.

2.  During the "lying period", if you will, Mr. W behaved exactly like an addict.  He was full of shame, resentment and self-pity.  It bothered him greatly.  He admitted he was struggling, and he didn't pretend all was well and that it was somehow MY problem for being critical or over-reacting.  This made it easier for me to trust my gut and detach emotionally.

3.  During the "lying period", he didn't try to fill up the gaping hole of darkness in himself by seeking intimacy from me, either emotionally or physically.  He knew it was his stuff, and he didn't look to me to soothe his pain.  He has done that before and the betrayal felt worse.

4.  During the "lying period", he went to a previously scheduled counseling appointment and Lifestar and an SA meeting.  I heard him making support calls.  So I was reassured that although something was up, he hadn't become completely apathetic.


After the slips and lies I need see an increased level of committment from him, because we are back on shaky ground.  Lurking around is that old familiar feeling that things will never change, and that lust and lies are going to continue into perpetuity.  I need him to work hard to be honest, humble, accountable and connected.  The burden of rebuilding is on him.

That's it in a nutshell.  I still wish it hadn't happened.  It all involved lust and other women, which is never going to be painless for me as his wife.  Never.

It comprised several conversations that ended in me huffing off or ending the phone call without a good-bye.   Because that is how I was at the moment.  My angrish steamed out of my ears like a cartoon character.  But I survived, and the whole thing did not overwhelm me with despair.  Slog on, sister, slog on!











A word about boundaries:  I'm glad I had them in place, and I'm glad I held them, but what to do about the residue of deep sadness that accompanies times like these?  I haven't been able to find a boundary for grief; it seeps through some of my best efforts at recovery.  

Slogging On After Slips And Lies

I'm sorry to report that things here went downhill rather quickly after our great vacation.

It consisted of multiple days of Mr. W acting detached and broody, and multiple questions from me to the tune of, "What is going on with you?  Did something happen?  Are there things you haven't disclosed to me?  I feel like you are hiding things from me."  And multiple denials from him to the tune of, "No, no, no.  Nothing has happened.  I am just having a tough week."

Until last night.
When he told me what he claims is the truth.  But really, how would I know?  Stuff had happened, and he had lied once again.  And again.  And again.  To my face.   I have boundaries for this kind of thing, and I am holding them, but still....come on!!

I never imagined I would be in a marriage where I didn't trust the guy I chose to marry.  It was unfathomable that a marriage could even survive without trust.  Like a worm caught on the road after the rain has dried, the marriage would shrivel and harden and die.

But, that's not true.  I'm here to say that while I may not like it, I and lots of women I know, are willing to tolerate a trustless marriage (not an abusive marriage) if our spouse is trying to become trustworthy.  Trying being the keyword.

It seems that as much as I value an honest marriage, and as much as I try to hold up my end of that deal, what I value more right now is an intact family.

That is a realization to me as I write this.  As much as I whine about honesty and abhor the lies,  I am choosing to keep my family together while my husband learns and practices recovery from sexual addiction.

Of course it would be a relief if he could go away and come back fixed, but as long as I see that he is willing to do Whatever It Takes to recover, then separation is not the answer for our family right now.

That said, I acknowledge the sheer difficulty of living with multiple addicts that lie.  Like MM says, lies make things muddy and confusing.  I find myself distrusting things my non-addict family members say. My default has always been first to trust, until proven untrustworthy.  I resent that my innate, child-like trust has now been exploited.

Overused Joke:  How do you know if an addict is lying?  His lips are moving.

Thank goodness the Spirit can help me see through the muddiness.

"...for the Spirit speaketh the truth and lieth not.  Wherefore, it speaketh of things as they really are, and of things as they really will be; wherefore, these things are manifested unto us plainly, for the salvation of our souls."   Jacob 4:13

An hour or so before my husband disclosed, I had prayed that I would be able to see things as they really are, and I was able to.  I can see that recovery ain't pretty, and it sure as hell ain't easy.  It's not a smooth yellow brick road to Oz.  But, even among lies and slips and apologies and do-overs and rage and compassion and grief and tears, I am determined to slog on -- at least for today.




But I think I'll let Mr. W sweat it out for a few days before I tell him that.

Who Stole My Old Husband?

We got home from vacation today, and despite contracting my first cold sore EVER,  which has flabbergasted me with its immensity and has rendered the left side of my face unrecognizable,  I am celebrating one of our best family times ever.

I am wondering, who stole my old husband and replaced him with a new and improved, identical-looking one?

The new one stayed engaged with the family for an entire week (minus only 3 hours) on a very long road trip.  He didn't lose his temper or become exasperated when kids jumped all over the beds in the hotel and refused to go to sleep.  He instigated daily family car scripture reading as we drove.  And he spent the last hour on the road sharing with the kids the fascinating story of the audiobook he was listening to.  They were riveted.

Now that we are home, he is still going like an Energizer bunny helping our son get ready for camp tomorrow.   He was just seen sewing on a scout patch.   He volunteered to drive our son 2.5 hrs one way tomorrow, starting at 5 a.m.

This is NOT the way vacations and the pre/post vacation time have gone for us in the past.  A vacation  brought out the worst in him for several weeks prior.  Mr. W would become stressed about leaving work, which led to him working longer and longer hours and becoming increasingly detached from us.   Now I know that he was acting out in his addiction heavily during these times.   He was so grouchy, that I often thought, "I don't even want to go on a vacation with you."  There was tension and arguing.

On the first day of vacation, he would shift into trip mode and immediately want the fun to start.  He
would apologize and say, "I really want to have a good trip with you."  Right now.  Let the fun begin.

I would try to let the fun to begin, but it usually took me some time to recover from the detachment and disfunction we had been living.  I employed all kinds of codependent behaviors to sustain me.  The trip itself was usually good, although now I realize that he was often in his own head, away from us emotionally.

He always had a post-trip let down, sometimes it began as early as the drive home.  I remember several long drives home after a good vacation, when he didn't talk to me or the kids for hours.  "What had we done?" We all wondered.  Yesterday he was fine.   "What could we do to get the good feeling back?"  This caused much anxiety and uncertainty for the kids and me.  As they say in the business, it was crazy-making.

The next several days home were always uncertain, as he reentered work life.   When he came home from work, I tried to get a read on his mood before proceeding with the plans for the evening.  I blamed it all on his depression, and I employed even more codependent behaviors, such as rescuing and persecuting and crying and pouting, to restore balance to our lives.  It didn't work, but it was all I knew at the time.

In recent years, as his addiction was burning strong without my knowledge, vacations were more trouble than they were worth.   Which is why I want to kiss whomever abducted my old husband and replaced him with this new guy.

One big difference between my old husband and the new one is HE IS PRESENT.  He is happy to be where his body is.  He is content and peaceful just being, because he actually likes and respects himself.    I realized now how discontentedly and anxiously he lived his life.  This spilled over to me and the kids and created a tense environment.

On the trip, his contentment and peace spread out like an invisible blanket and covered our entire crazy family.  That has NEVER happened before, and I think a little bit of healing transpired.  Thank you, God, for sending us that miracle.

Today, I feel like we might make it after all.

Gobstoppers and Lust

Another tough conversation happened in bed late last night.  My husband was sharing some insights into some of his disturbing addict behaviors, and I did not like what I was hearing.  Something inside of me snapped.  

Why, why, why?   Of all the things in the world to talk about, why does it have to be THIS?  The conversation screeched to a halt when I turned my face the wall and hissed, "Please don't ever bring up this topic again.  I can't handle it.  I CANNOT handle it!"  I threw in a few sarcastic, shaming comments to drive the point home.

I turned on the lamp and read something mindless.  That is what I do when my peace is destroyed, my heart is racing, and it's time to sleep.   Books remind me that the world is bigger than the world of the gut-wrenching words I have just heard.

Tough conversations are a gigantic part of recovery.  It's hard for me to accept, that in order for me to heal, I have to hear very difficult things.  It's counterintuitive that the healing process is fraught with more emotional pain.  What's that all about, I ask you?

Coleen Harrison writes about this in her book, From Heartache To Healing. (She was married to a sex addict for 20+ yrs, then divorced.  She remarried a recovering sex addict, and they are working on their marriage one day at a time.)

"They [the addict and their loved one] both have to be willing to go through the painful experience of telling their truth and listening to their spouse's truth.  Otherwise, what they are experiencing with each other might be many things, but it will not be a genuine marriage, a genuine coming together of souls.

As Phil [her second husband] was going through those first slippery years of recovery, I had to accept the unavoidable truth that if either of us refused to hear the other's honest sharing, we weren't really experiencing a true marriage.  How could I say something so extreme?  Because a genuine marriage is based on revealing ourselves--our whole selves, imperfections and all--to each other.  Without such honesty, there is no true intimacy."



I thought about her words all day.  True intimacy is what I have wanted from the beginning.  It's what I still want, more than a dishwasher, or 400-thread count sheets, or a trip to Europe.   

My husband is revealing himself to me layer by layer as he uncovers it himself.  It's like a Gobstopper: as soon as he sucks off one color there is another waiting underneath it.  

Some layers are so raw and have lay buried so long, that he cries like a little boy in the dark.  Some layers are so ugly, I wonder how I ended up with this guy.  Some layers are answers to the questions we have both been asking about him.  I think he is brave.  


I've been feeling for a while that it was time for me to open up another crack of myself to him.  That it was worth a try.  That even though I had fear, the actual emotional risk for me was lower than it had ever been in my marriage.  

My husband's capacity to love me is greater than it has ever been, due to his changing heart and healing brain.  If only my heart hadn't been broken in the process, we would both be on the same page.  Oh well......  

Inspired by Alicia's post yesterday, I girded up the old loins and told him that there were times in our marriage when I had been so dissatisfied, that I had looked at certain men we know and thought, "I want that."  "I bet he would never cheat on his wife.  I wish I had that."  And I told him who they were.  Isn't that a type of lust?  It is definitely coveting.

The latest one was recently when I heard a sex addiction therapist speak.  I found myself thinking, "I wish I was married to him."   In my situation, a compassionate, validating therapist saying exactly what I wanted to hear about my trauma and betrayal was extremely attractive.  Isn't that a type of lust?

This was a tough conversation, and it was my stuff this time.  We both survived, and ya know what?  I felt rigorously honest, and I felt more open to love.  

I can do this, one conversation at a time.   


  

Lying Children and Parenting 505

Today, before I had even taken a shower, I had talked to three women, all of whom have at least one addict child.   One is my son's teacher at school.  I don't know her very well, and she confided in me about her daughter.  I felt surprised that she would be vulnerable with me, and I felt true empathy for her pain and frustration.

Too bad I was still too chicken to say anything about my own addicts.  But, thank you, God, for letting me know that the grass is not always greener in other families.  It's tough all over.


The other two are dear friends, Liza and Becca, who both have addict husbands and addict children.  I have known both of them for years, but we live hundreds of miles from each other, and we hadn't stayed close.  I tear up when I think about how God brought each of them back into my life around the time sexual addiction ripped a hole in all that I hold dear.  

Liza and Becca's presence in my life is one of my greatest testimonies that God has NOT left me alone in this.   I do believe He gives us a way through, and these women, among others, are part of my way through.

Anyway, in the recent past, we have all caught our children in multiple lies.   This is no picnic, and we are struggling with how to handle it.  Here are some things we are doing.

            
 We hold these kids accountable.   We have found that if we let stuff go, and minimize the lying, then we are enabling addict behavior.  The most loving thing we can do is to be tough.  With lots of love, of course.

*One kid is making up crazy amounts of homework he lied about before he can do a climbing competition.
*One kid is writing an original poem and submitting it for no credit to his English teacher (he plagiarized) before he goes out with friends.
*One kid is monetarily compensating his brother for items he took and used without permission.
*One kid is doing extra jobs to compensate his mom for the extra emotional drain.
*One mom is requiring a son to call a scout guy to clarify some of his dishonest answers in an interview before he can get his Eagle.
*One mom is giving her son a week to contact the bishop, and then she will call the bishop and give him a heads up.
*When we allow others (bishops, leaders) to believe things about our kids that we know aren't true, then we are enabling our kids.


What if my kid got good grades and earned his Eagle before the age of 14 and passed the sacrament with good posture and did 300 baptisms for the dead, but he was lying and cheating off and on the whole time?

More than anything I want kids who are honest, humble, accountable and kind.  That is also what I want myself to be.  Honest, humble, accountable and kind.  These qualities take all of us time and practice to develop.  A lot of time and practice messing up and then cleaning it up.

In my quest as a mom to turn out kids that are all these things, am I becoming more honest, humble, accountable and kind?

I like how Elder Lynn Robbins poses this question in the following quote, "Could it be possible that you need this child as much as this child needs you?"

Yes, yes, yes.








"A sweet and obedient child will enroll a father or mother only in Parenting 101. If you are blessed with a child who tests your patience to the nth degree, you will be enrolled in Parenting 505. Rather than wonder what you might have done wrong in the premortal life to be so deserving, you might consider the more challenging child a blessing and opportunity to become more godlike yourself. With which child will your patience, long-suffering, and other Christlike virtues most likely be tested, developed, and refined? Could it be possible that you need this child as much as this child needs you?"

Elder Lynn Robbins

Grievous Harms - A fabulous talk!

Last fall I came across this talk, and it is my current favorite on understanding the Atonement.   It was given by James Rasband at a BYU devotional in October.   I have it printed out, and I am just about to read it, so I thought I'd share.  It has really helped me think about forgiveness and restitution in a new way.  


http://speeches.byu.edu/?act=viewitem&id=2075

Fighting Porn At The Dentist

I did some porn-fighting at the dentist's office yesterday.  I removed an inappropriate magazine with the caption, "How J-lo got her butt back" and a horrid picture of Jennifer Lopez's backside on the front cover.   I left the building with it tucked under my arm, and I threw it in the recycling bin at the post office.

It was a small action, but it felt good.  I know I am one person, but I can make a difference in this fight against bad stuff.  We all can.

It's like recycling.  It may seem like one family could not make a difference to the earth by throwing some garbage away in a different container.  I know my kids would be relieved if we didn't recycle, but I believe that small efforts over time add up to big results.

I just had a thought:  What if that magazine were recycled into some paper that got sent to school children in poor countries, so they could learn to read and write?  I am subconsciously searching for  metaphors of beauty coming out of ashes. (Isaiah 41).