His, Mine and Ours

I am organized. I prefer order and for things to have explanations, to be rational and to make sense. I like to have a plan. I've had one, in fact, for as long as I can remember.

I have also, over the years of my life, grown to become a believer in the "shit happens" school of thought. I've been forced to accept that things aren't always predictable. Or fair. Or sensible. I have learned that you can take vitamins, visit your obstetrician regularly, eat well, take care of yourself and still end up giving birth to a child who has a neurological problem for which there is no cure. You can meet a mature adult man, spend years getting to know him, believe that you understand and know all there is to understand and know about him, think long and hard about entering into a marriage with him and still end up having your heart, love and trust disregarded and crushed by him 16 years later.

My husbands' sexual addiction was not in my plan.

It is certainly in my life now, though - a part of my every breath, word and thought. I cannot change or erase that fact (as much as I'd like to) so I am determined to deal with it. For that, I have devised a plan. I don't know if my plan is a good one or if it will work - but it is in place and I find comfort (as much comfort a I can feel these days) knowing that it is there.

His - Ricky needs help. He is going to transition from Fred - the MFT we've been seeing together - to a psychiatrist at the same practice. Fred feels that, while he has treated people with sex addictions before, it would be best for Ricky to see a doctor who has more years of schooling, more experience and the ability to prescribe anti-anxiety or anti-depression medications down the road (if necessary). Ricky is ready and willing and can't wait to get started. Thank heavens - as I don't think we'd still be together were he not. He's been informed that his therapy will be multi-faceted - that his childhood (the molestation, abuse etc.) will probably be addressed first. It's finally been acknowledged by him (through the psychotherapy at the SA program) but needs, still, to be dealt with and healthily "put away" in its place. He also has some serious self-esteem/self-worth/self-image issues to straighten out. Coping skills need to be learned and implemented in his daily life and his sexual addiction to be addressed. (An impressive to-do list!)

Mine - I am going to continue to see my MFT, Ethel. Without a doubt, I have issues that need to be addressed. I am working very hard on trying to really wrap my brain around what has happened - the how's, when's and the why's... I have to work on my self-esteem, learning to trust again, ridding myself of anger and resentment... Also, I think it essential that I remain emotionally healthy - not just for my own well-being - but for that of my children. My sweet, innocent little children...

Ours - Eventually (once we have ironed out our individual issues), we hope to enter couples' counseling together. We will need to work on re-building what (I thought) we once had. Restoration of trust will obviously be an important part of our therapy together as will improving our communication skills (empathic listening, outright honesty, being respectful, and expressing vulnerability), improved awareness of individual issues and emotions, forgiveness, dealing with sexual problems, establishing boundaries, improving intimacy (positive interactions, activities together, etc.), reducing defensiveness, and reducing shame.

We have a long way to go but at least we have a plan...

"This has nothing to do with you."

This is an aspect of Rickys' addiction that is proving difficult for me. I have read in numerous places that my husbands' addiction/obsession with pornography, masturbation and "online sex" with other women has nothing to do with me. I have been assured of same thing by him, my parents and by two different therapists (mine (Ethel) and ours (Fred)).

WHY is it so hard for me to believe, though? WHY can't I shake these feelings that I am, somehow, inadequate? Undesirable? Unworthy?

Note to self: bring up (again) at next appointment with Ethel.

Serenity Prayer

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

I've heard this countless times over the years of my life, of course, but it has such incredible significance to me now...

Changes

What a week.

Sunday - After making every attempt to come up with an excuse not go, Ricky did finally pack and leave for his week-long stay at the hospital with the program our therapist, Fred, so strongly suggested would be right for him. As angry and disgusted as I have been with him, I would be lying to say that I didn't feel insanely sorry for him the day he left. I almost felt guilty for putting him through what was obviously very frightening for him. (Absurd - I know.) Ricky called me when he arrived - from his cell phone in the parking lot (the last time he'd be able to use it for a week) - and sounded like a scared little boy. I tried to comfort him. I told him that I was certain he'd feel better as soon as he got in and realized that he was going to be treated kindly, compassionately and respectfully.

Monday - He called me for the first time about 24 hours after he had left. He sounded surprisingly well - admitting that everyone had been wonderful so far. He underwent a physical that first night as well as a handful of various assessments and said that he didn't get to bed until almost midnight. The progran Ricky attended was started by Patrick Carnes himslf and, although he is no longer there, it has remained largely how it was when he left. I was glad to hear this as I have come to respect Carnes and his research tremendously. The 1st full day (Monday) was spent participating in group therapy and individual. Ricky sounded upbeat and said that he felt "understood". He mentioned a few times that the therapists there confirmed how rough it seemed his job was. I had the impression that he felt they were giving him permission to "blame" the stress of his work and the treatment he received from his superior for his behaviors. I wasn't thrilled about this, obviously, but didn't say anything. I have never denied that his work situation is less than ideal but I would've been furious if that was going to be all the $4K we were shelling out for the week was sending him home with. He told me he'd call me the following night. I called my Mother as soon as he and I hung up to lament and she reminded me - again - that the therapists/counselors were probably in getting-you-to-trust-me mode. She was confident that they were just working on building his trust and that discussion of accepting responsibility for his actions would happen eventually.

Tuesday - When Ricky called Tuesday evening, he was obviously upset. I don't think we spoke for more than a minute. He said he'd had "psychotherapy" that day and that it was very rough. He mentioned that "some things were coming out" and he told me that he was exhausted and would call me Wednesday night.

Wednesday - As promised, he did call. He was much more interested in talking - I think we were on the phone for over 2 hours! It was probably the longest conversation we'd had in 10 years. He, rather abruptly, blurted out that he was molested as a boy by a neighbor (older brother of a friend of his). Wow. As angry as I am about what he's done to our lives, my heart couldn't help but break upon hearing this. He told me that he had denied and lied about it all day Tuesday during his psychotherapy. The therapists finally broke him down, though, and it all started coming out. Wednesday was spent working on the details of his childhood. In addition to the molestation, more specific information came out about the brutality he suffered at the hands of his own Father. He'd always told me that his Father was abusive (before he abandoned the family entirely). I've, over the years, heard just a handful of stories. There apparently, however, was much, much more. There was definitely physical abuse but the emotional abuse was apparently the worst. Ricky never felt loved by his Father. In addition, he was ridiculed and made fun of by him - often being compared to children of his Fathers' girlfriends who were more athletic, smarter, "better"... Ricky (and his sisters) witnessed their Mother suffer indescribable physical abuse at the hands of their Father. She apparently even tried to commit suicide at one point and Ricky, being young and not understanding the situation as an adult might, felt tremendous anger at her for this. He grew up with a huge fear of abandonment.

Things changed dramatically for me upon learning all of this. It didn't make my pain or heartache go away, obviously - but it did give me an explanation for why this was happening.

Thursday - We, again, had a very long conversation about the things he was discovering and learning. My head hurt with it all and he mentioned that his therapist told him to try to be cautious about "overwhelming" me with his recovery. I wanted to hear what he was telling me but - it was definitely overwhelming. He admitted to various periods over the past 15-16 years when he had been "acting out" - during my miscarriages, before the birth of our son, during our daughters' infancy, during periods of transition or anxiety at his job... I've never heard the word "masturbation" spoken during a conversation so many times in my entire life. How could I not have known or sensed that this was going on in my very own marriage? He admits to having been an incredible liar. I can't describe the feelings I'm experiencing right now - definite sorrow (over his childhood suffering) and pity (for the vicious cycle he has apparently - unbeknownst to me - been stuck in for so many years). I feel tremendous anger as well - learning that my husband/partner/love of my life was insatiably masturbating to pornography during these periods of stress in our lives - leaving me alone (physically and emotionally) to take care of myself and our family... I want to understand and to know everything - but am I ready for all of this?

He attended his first SA meeting today at the hospital and will attend another one tomorrow. He told me that he wants to continue going when he gets home and I agreed to help him find the dates/times of local meetings.

He seems like a different person. He seems to be whole-heartedly embracing what he is being taught about the addiction. He claims to want to recover and seems to be willing to put forth whatever effort it takes. He has told me that he feels like a tremendous weight has been lifted from him and that I could never imagine how much energy it takes to live a double life. He said that he feels free for the first time in almost 40 years.

Friday - We, again, spoke on the phone for hours today. Much of his time in therapy this week was spent on the issues that surfaced regarding his childhood. As a result, he had just an hour or two of "victim empathy" therapy today. I, of course, would love for him to have more of this. It does sound like the small amount of time he had with it, though, made a definite impact.

He should be home any minute and, for the first time in months, I actually want to see him and give him a hug. I'm very hurt and still feeling angry and anxious, confused, hurt, betrayed and unsure... For the first time in years, though, I actually have a little bit of hope. Even though I fully understand that we have a long, LONG way to go - there is comfort in knowing just what the problem is. Our future completely depends on his recovery but seeing how committed he seems to be to getting better is encouraging.

Revlations Abound

What a week.

Sunday - After making every attempt to come up with an excuse not go, Ricky did finally pack and leave for his week-long stay at the hospital with the program our therapist, Fred, so strongly suggested would be right for him. As angry and disgusted as I have been with him, I would be lying to say that I didn't feel insanely sorry for him the day he left. I almost felt guilty for putting him through what was obviously very frightening for him. (Absurd - I know.) Ricky called me when he arrived - from his cell phone in the parking lot (the last time he'd be able to use it for a week) - and sounded like a scared little boy. I tried to comfort him. I told him that I was certain he'd feel better as soon as he got in and realized that he was going to be treated kindly, compassionately and respectfully.

Monday - He called me for the first time about 24 hours after he had left. He sounded surprisingly well - admitting that everyone had been wonderful so far. He underwent a physical that first night as well as a handful of various assessments and said that he didn't get to bed until almost midnight. The progran Ricky attended was started by Patrick Carnes himslf and, although he is no longer there, it has remained largely how it was when he left. I was glad to hear this as I have come to respect Carnes and his research tremendously. The 1st full day (Monday) was spent participating in group therapy and individual. Ricky sounded upbeat and said that he felt "understood". He mentioned a few times that the therapists there confirmed how rough it seemed his job was. I had the impression that he felt they were giving him permission to "blame" the stress of his work and the treatment he received from his superior for his behaviors. I wasn't thrilled about this, obviously, but didn't say anything. I have never denied that his work situation is less than ideal but I would've been furious if that was going to be all the $4K we were shelling out for the week was sending him home with. He told me he'd call me the following night. I called my Mother as soon as he and I hung up to lament and she reminded me - again - that the therapists/counselors were probably in getting-you-to-trust-me mode. She was confident that they were just working on building his trust and that discussion of accepting responsibility for his actions would happen eventually.

Tuesday - When Ricky called Tuesday evening, he was obviously upset. I don't think we spoke for more than a minute. He said he'd had "psychotherapy" that day and that it was very rough. He mentioned that "some things were coming out" and he told me that he was exhausted and would call me Wednesday night.

Wednesday - As promised, he did call. He was much more interested in talking - I think we were on the phone for over 2 hours! It was probably the longest conversation we'd had in 10 years. He, rather abruptly, blurted out that he was molested as a boy by a neighbor (older brother of a friend of his). Wow. As angry as I am about what he's done to our lives, my heart couldn't help but break upon hearing this. He told me that he had denied and lied about it all day Tuesday during his psychotherapy. The therapists finally broke him down, though, and it all started coming out. Wednesday was spent working on the details of his childhood. In addition to the molestation, more specific information came out about the brutality he suffered at the hands of his own Father. He'd always told me that his Father was abusive (before he abandoned the family entirely). I've, over the years, heard just a handful of stories. There apparently, however, was much, much more. There was definitely physical abuse but the emotional abuse was apparently the worst. Ricky never felt loved by his Father. In addition, he was ridiculed and made fun of by him - often being compared to children of his Fathers' girlfriends who were more athletic, smarter, "better"... Ricky (and his sisters) witnessed their Mother suffer indescribable physical abuse at the hands of their Father. She apparently even tried to commit suicide at one point and Ricky, being young and not understanding the situation as an adult might, felt tremendous anger at her for this. He grew up with a huge fear of abandonment.

Things changed dramatically for me upon learning all of this. It didn't make my pain or heartache go away, obviously - but it did give me an explanation for why this was happening.

Thursday - We, again, had a very long conversation about the things he was discovering and learning. My head hurt with it all and he mentioned that his therapist told him to try to be cautious about "overwhelming" me with his recovery. I wanted to hear what he was telling me but - it was definitely overwhelming. He admitted to various periods over the past 15-16 years when he had been "acting out" - during my miscarriages, before the birth of our son, during our daughters' infancy, during periods of transition or anxiety at his job... I've never heard the word "masturbation" spoken during a conversation so many times in my entire life. How could I not have known or sensed that this was going on in my very own marriage? He admits to having been an incredible liar. I can't describe the feelings I'm experiencing right now - definite sorrow (over his childhood suffering) and pity (for the vicious cycle he has apparently - unbeknownst to me - been stuck in for so many years). I feel tremendous anger as well - learning that my husband/partner/love of my life was insatiably masturbating to pornography during these periods of stress in our lives - leaving me alone (physically and emotionally) to take care of myself and our family... I want to understand and to know everything - but am I ready for all of this?

He attended his first SA meeting today at the hospital and will attend another one tomorrow. He told me that he wants to continue going when he gets home and I agreed to help him find the dates/times of local meetings.

He seems like a different person. He seems to be whole-heartedly embracing what he is being taught about the addiction. He claims to want to recover and seems to be willing to put forth whatever effort it takes. He has told me that he feels like a tremendous weight has been lifted from him and that I could never imagine how much energy it takes to live a double life. He said that he feels free for the first time in almost 40 years.

Friday - We, again, spoke on the phone for hours today. Much of his time in therapy this week was spent on the issues that surfaced regarding his childhood. As a result, he had just an hour or two of "victim empathy" therapy today. I, of course, would love for him to have more of this. It does sound like the small amount of time he had with it, though, made a definite impact.

He should be home any minute and, for the first time in months, I actually want to see him and give him a hug. I'm very hurt and still feeling angry and anxious, confused, hurt, betrayed and unsure... For the first time in years, though, I actually have a little bit of hope. Even though I fully understand that we have a long, LONG way to go - there is comfort in knowing just what the problem is. Our future completely depends on his recovery but seeing how committed he seems to be to getting better is encouraging.

Anticipation

The past few days have been pretty bad. Ricky has - understandably - been full of angst. He has repeatedly said that he's "afraid of what will come out" when (if!) he goes to the recommeded hospital for treatment. I've read that a large number of sex addicts (as much as 80% according to some reports) have a history of some type of abuse (sexual, physical, emotional) in their past. He has shared with me, over the years, stories about his Father who was occasionally prone to violence but mostly an emotional abuser. I've, as sensitively as possible, asked if he thinks there's a possibility that there is some type of sexual abuse or molestation in his past. He insists that he doesn't think so. He claims that, if there is, he must have "buried it" or "blocked it out" because he has absolutely no memory. Both of us agreed that, as horrible as such a realization would be, it would be almost comforing in a way - giving some type of reason or explanation for why he has allowed such a thing to take over his life. What is the alternative? If no explanation or identifiable "cause" is found, wouldn't he have to just admit that he's a creep who got turned onto pornography and let his obsession with it get out of hand - to the point where he started to ignore his wife, children and life in general?

He is coming up with every reason in the world not to go for in-patient therapy. I understand the fear - neither of us know much about psychiatric hospitals. (He has visions of One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest in his head!) We've both spoken with people at the facility, however, and everyone has gone out of their way to be kind, understanding an respectful. I don't know how I'd feel or what I'd do if he decided not to go...