I woke up the morning after D-Day feeling disoriented (and maybe a little panicked?). Had that conversation really happened? Cyrus leaves for work before I wake up so he wasn't there to touch base with.
I sort of robotically went through what is required of a mother of small children, but my mind was miles away. I was just trying to understand what I had been told. Every once in a while, I would feel a surge of shock and emotion at what my husband had told me. He had been watching videos of people having sex? He had been seeking images of naked women? He had a problem with lust? WHAT????? Really??? I thought he was crazy about me. I thought he didn't have eyes for anyone else. I thought I was the one he wanted. I felt sick to my stomach. My stomach was actually churning. I was feeling real physical symptoms brought on only by the intense emotion I was feeling. Several times that day, I found myself standing over the toilet, dry heaving.
And thus began the most challenging week of my life (so far?). I still genuinely felt the sadness at the fact that my favorite person had been suffering alone for so long. But I was starting to absorb the implications for me. I was not the only woman he saw, and I had believed that I was, and I desperately wanted to be. My emotions were so strong. I felt like I was churning in the ocean. I felt like I was being spun in the surf, and that I was desperate to breathe, but that I didn't know which way to swim to get air. Which way was up? I had no clue.
When Cyrus came home after work, I could think of nothing else besides his disclosure, and our new reality. I tried to drop discrete hints (that the kids would not understand) about how I had been feeling. I couldn't wait for the kids to go to bed so I could share with him what it had been like.
I think in hindsight that he was surprised that I wanted to talk about nothing else. He was feeling like we had had this big momentous conversation, so heavy with emotion, and he was ready to get back to a little more normalcy. I can't remember specific details for specific nights that week, but I know he pretty quickly slipped back into his normal routine, and didn't seem that interested in talking (and talking and talking and talking) like I wanted to do.
Within a day or two, I told my husband that I was ready to talk to our bishop (ecclesiastical leader). He was caught off guard. He told me that he wasn't sure whether he wanted to confess to our bishop what had been going on. I told him that the reason why I was going to talk to the bishop wasn't for Cyrus's benefit; it was for mine. He was my bishop, and I needed his support while I adjusted to my new reality. I told my husband that he was invited to join me at the bishop's office, but that he didn't have to.
In the end, he chose to join me. His hand was shaking in my hand as he told our bishop that he was a recovering porn addict. In hindsight, calling himself a "recovering" addict was absurdly optimistic, but it helped him get the words out, and it was true as far as we knew.
I think D-Day was on a Tuesday or Wednesday, and I had been asked to give a talk in church that Sunday. I stuck with the plan and prepared my talk during the week of D-Day. Since I could think of nothing but the disclosure, I found myself scared that I would not be able to keep the news out of my talk. I could just imagine myself at the microphone on the podium saying, "My husband is addicted to pornography." I actually became frightened that I would be unable to keep myself from saying that. But I didn't say it. I got through the talk.
And I started to adjust to the shock of my new life. There was so much heartache and reality to experience, but after about a week, I at least knew which way was up. More to come soon . . . .
Monday, March 31, 2014
Friday, March 28, 2014
Our Story, Part 2 (D-Day)
Over 8 years ago, late one evening, at the end of a deep and connected conversation, my husband told me that he needed to tell me something. I could tell it was important. He stopped and breathed heavily, not making eye contact for at least 60 seconds. It's a good thing I have had practice in waiting to hear what he would say.
In those moments between finding out that there something big that I would soon know, and actually knowing what it was, I felt my pulse quicken and the hairs on my scalp raise. My mind raced. What could it be? I was unaware that there were any secrets between us. What about him did I not know? I could only think of two things: either he was gay (and in love with a specific man?) or he was into porn. What else would inspire this momentous disclosure? Of the two, honestly I believed that homosexuality was more likely. They both seemed nearly equally absurd, but attraction to his own gender seemed slightly less preposterous.
He started by reframing my understanding of his history. He told me that as a teenager, he had had a friend with a huge stash of pornographic magazines. He and another friend had made this first buddy their personal library. They would check out a few magazines at a time, and exchange them for more a few days later. Over time it had progressed to occasional movies and become more and more of an engrained habit.
Eventually, Cyrus had left for college at BYU (an LDS Church-owned school). He spent his first year there preparing to be a missionary, and had been largely successful in giving up his habit. He then became a missionary for two years and was able to stay away from pornography entirely.
[At this point in the conversation, I sincerely believed that he had permanently given up his porn habit entirely when he was a missionary. I could not imagine living cleanly and spiritually for two years and coming home with new knowledge and zeal for religion, and then getting sucked back into disgusting and degrading behaviors. Maybe some pervy guys, but not my husband. Cyrus had been an exemplary missionary. He was who I looked to as an example of righteousness and closeness with the Lord. He got it. I knew he did, at least in those first several post-mission years.]
He told me that within a few months of being home, he had found himself returning to his old habits, but that in the years he had been away from it, internet pornography had sprung from its depraved origins. He had successfully stayed away from it during the months between the time that I had returned from my missionary service and the time we had gotten married. He had never told me about his old problem during our courtship because he had honestly believed that it was in his past and that he would never go back, especially once we were married and he would have a legitimate outlet for his sexual energy.
But then. He told me that he had again slipped into old habits within a few months of our wedding. His use had been sporadic, but like a dog to his vomit, he had found himself going back to it over and over. [Hint: Cyrus did not use the "dog to his vomit" phrase. I found that analogy all on my own later.]
I was dismayed and stunned to hear that there had been any incidences of pornography use during our marriage. And then my heart sank as his story continued to progress toward the present. There had been increased use, peaking during the out-of-control period of extreme video gaming while he had been in graduate school. I felt utterly raw when he said that he had been unsuccessful in his many many attempts to stay away from it forever, and that in fact his last exposure had been within the last few weeks.
Cyrus told me that he had been feeling for months more and more desire to finally boot it out of his life, and that he had come to believe that the next step in moving toward that goal would be to inform me of his real situation. In other words, his disclosure was entirely voluntary, with absolutely no prompting from me.
This is the part of the story that makes me feel fortunate, if fortunate is a word that can be used in such a desperate and scary scenario. He chose to tell me.
But. BUT. If you had asked me the day before Disclosure Day what were the chances that my husband was addicted to pornography, I would have said, "Zero." I honestly believed (because it had never occurred to me to wonder otherwise) that my husband had never once sought out pornography in our nearly 8 years of marriage.
I felt so much compassion for him that night, and so much gratitude that he had decided to tell me. I wondered out loud that he had been bearing this burden for half of his life, and that he had been bearing it alone. I told him that I wasn't even feeling sorry for myself, but that I felt sorry for him that he had been suffering silently for so long. I think Cyrus appreciated my empathy, but he wisely warned me that I probably wouldn't feel the same way in the coming days. And he was right.
In those moments between finding out that there something big that I would soon know, and actually knowing what it was, I felt my pulse quicken and the hairs on my scalp raise. My mind raced. What could it be? I was unaware that there were any secrets between us. What about him did I not know? I could only think of two things: either he was gay (and in love with a specific man?) or he was into porn. What else would inspire this momentous disclosure? Of the two, honestly I believed that homosexuality was more likely. They both seemed nearly equally absurd, but attraction to his own gender seemed slightly less preposterous.
He started by reframing my understanding of his history. He told me that as a teenager, he had had a friend with a huge stash of pornographic magazines. He and another friend had made this first buddy their personal library. They would check out a few magazines at a time, and exchange them for more a few days later. Over time it had progressed to occasional movies and become more and more of an engrained habit.
Eventually, Cyrus had left for college at BYU (an LDS Church-owned school). He spent his first year there preparing to be a missionary, and had been largely successful in giving up his habit. He then became a missionary for two years and was able to stay away from pornography entirely.
[At this point in the conversation, I sincerely believed that he had permanently given up his porn habit entirely when he was a missionary. I could not imagine living cleanly and spiritually for two years and coming home with new knowledge and zeal for religion, and then getting sucked back into disgusting and degrading behaviors. Maybe some pervy guys, but not my husband. Cyrus had been an exemplary missionary. He was who I looked to as an example of righteousness and closeness with the Lord. He got it. I knew he did, at least in those first several post-mission years.]
He told me that within a few months of being home, he had found himself returning to his old habits, but that in the years he had been away from it, internet pornography had sprung from its depraved origins. He had successfully stayed away from it during the months between the time that I had returned from my missionary service and the time we had gotten married. He had never told me about his old problem during our courtship because he had honestly believed that it was in his past and that he would never go back, especially once we were married and he would have a legitimate outlet for his sexual energy.
But then. He told me that he had again slipped into old habits within a few months of our wedding. His use had been sporadic, but like a dog to his vomit, he had found himself going back to it over and over. [Hint: Cyrus did not use the "dog to his vomit" phrase. I found that analogy all on my own later.]
I was dismayed and stunned to hear that there had been any incidences of pornography use during our marriage. And then my heart sank as his story continued to progress toward the present. There had been increased use, peaking during the out-of-control period of extreme video gaming while he had been in graduate school. I felt utterly raw when he said that he had been unsuccessful in his many many attempts to stay away from it forever, and that in fact his last exposure had been within the last few weeks.
Cyrus told me that he had been feeling for months more and more desire to finally boot it out of his life, and that he had come to believe that the next step in moving toward that goal would be to inform me of his real situation. In other words, his disclosure was entirely voluntary, with absolutely no prompting from me.
This is the part of the story that makes me feel fortunate, if fortunate is a word that can be used in such a desperate and scary scenario. He chose to tell me.
But. BUT. If you had asked me the day before Disclosure Day what were the chances that my husband was addicted to pornography, I would have said, "Zero." I honestly believed (because it had never occurred to me to wonder otherwise) that my husband had never once sought out pornography in our nearly 8 years of marriage.
I felt so much compassion for him that night, and so much gratitude that he had decided to tell me. I wondered out loud that he had been bearing this burden for half of his life, and that he had been bearing it alone. I told him that I wasn't even feeling sorry for myself, but that I felt sorry for him that he had been suffering silently for so long. I think Cyrus appreciated my empathy, but he wisely warned me that I probably wouldn't feel the same way in the coming days. And he was right.
Thursday, March 27, 2014
Our Story, Part 1
Cyrus and I met in college. We were both seeing other people when we met, so there was no romance involved; we just became best friends. And when I say "just" became best friends, there was no "just" about it. We quickly and easily slid into this easy connection where we deeply related to each other and enjoyed spending time together. It took no effort. It was just relaxed and wonderful. It was so innocent! We were so innocent! There really was no romance involved.
We spent several years apart (for LDS missions) and by the time we got back together, both of our prior romantic relationships had ended. We had stayed in touch and still felt deeply connected. Romance easily added itself as the last essential component of our friendship. We already knew each other so well that by the time we came to see that we had romantic feelings, there was no wondering whether we would be compatible. We were just absolutely delighted that we had found a way to continue our friendship permanently. We really really wanted to marry each other, and so we did.
He's still my favorite person I have ever met. I am drawn to him. My heart doesn't wait around to ask my permission before it reaches toward him.
Our adjustment to the early years of marriage seemed normal to me. We got along and didn't fight. I had difficulty adjusting to him getting over the obsessive phase of a romantic relationship. He didn't lose interest in me, so much as remember that he was also interested in other things. He would get absorbed in something, and I would feel pangs of desire to again be the entire focus of his attention and so I would try desperate and inane attempts at conversation to try to get him to look at me again.
In hindsight, I think we were both slightly unusual in this situation. I was somewhat extreme in how desperately I wanted his attention and validation. He was somewhat extreme in the amount to which he would temporarily disengage. I feel like learning to be emotionally self-sufficient was a trait that I needed, and that Cyrus gave me reason to develop. If it had stopped when it reached an appropriate level, I would have been in great shape.
But neither Cyrus nor I understood the amount of desire for connectedness that was healthy and appropriate in a marriage. He trained me to not look to him at all to have my emotional needs met. The message that I heard from him and that I came to believe was that it was unhealthy and unfair to expect him to be there for me emotionally. So I took it to heart and tried so hard to not be a needy wife. In his defense, he believed what he was preaching; he wasn't trying to trick me.
Anyway, so this dynamic in our relationship led to him having the freedom to do whatever the heck he wanted with no repercussions. It led me to believe that loving him meant being ok with whatever he chose to do. So when Cyrus got deeper and deeper into his video gaming habit, and less and less emotionally available to me, I just watched it happen, and did my best to suck it up and be self-reliant. I tried to rely on the Lord to meet my emotional needs.
One last dynamic to describe before telling what happened: for some reason (probably cultivated by him) I felt responsible to buffer between my husband and the unpleasantness of life. He was an overburdened graduate student, so I did everything I could think of to lighten his burden. I had so few expectations of him other than completing his education. I did the lion's share of the childcare, home care, financial duties, social obligations and everything else I could think of. If he was hungry, I brought him a sandwich. If he needed to apply to a graduate program, I did the entire application, leaving only the essay and the signature for him to complete. In hindsight, if I believed that loving him meant making his life as easy as possible, why did I believe so certainly that he loved me? He did not go out of his way to make my life as easy as possible.
You'll notice that nowhere in this post is there a reference to pornography or sex addiction. It's because for the first nearly 8 years of our marriage, there was no reference to pornography or sex addiction. I was completely and entirely unaware. I will save that component of our marriage for the next post.
We spent several years apart (for LDS missions) and by the time we got back together, both of our prior romantic relationships had ended. We had stayed in touch and still felt deeply connected. Romance easily added itself as the last essential component of our friendship. We already knew each other so well that by the time we came to see that we had romantic feelings, there was no wondering whether we would be compatible. We were just absolutely delighted that we had found a way to continue our friendship permanently. We really really wanted to marry each other, and so we did.
He's still my favorite person I have ever met. I am drawn to him. My heart doesn't wait around to ask my permission before it reaches toward him.
Our adjustment to the early years of marriage seemed normal to me. We got along and didn't fight. I had difficulty adjusting to him getting over the obsessive phase of a romantic relationship. He didn't lose interest in me, so much as remember that he was also interested in other things. He would get absorbed in something, and I would feel pangs of desire to again be the entire focus of his attention and so I would try desperate and inane attempts at conversation to try to get him to look at me again.
In hindsight, I think we were both slightly unusual in this situation. I was somewhat extreme in how desperately I wanted his attention and validation. He was somewhat extreme in the amount to which he would temporarily disengage. I feel like learning to be emotionally self-sufficient was a trait that I needed, and that Cyrus gave me reason to develop. If it had stopped when it reached an appropriate level, I would have been in great shape.
But neither Cyrus nor I understood the amount of desire for connectedness that was healthy and appropriate in a marriage. He trained me to not look to him at all to have my emotional needs met. The message that I heard from him and that I came to believe was that it was unhealthy and unfair to expect him to be there for me emotionally. So I took it to heart and tried so hard to not be a needy wife. In his defense, he believed what he was preaching; he wasn't trying to trick me.
Anyway, so this dynamic in our relationship led to him having the freedom to do whatever the heck he wanted with no repercussions. It led me to believe that loving him meant being ok with whatever he chose to do. So when Cyrus got deeper and deeper into his video gaming habit, and less and less emotionally available to me, I just watched it happen, and did my best to suck it up and be self-reliant. I tried to rely on the Lord to meet my emotional needs.
One last dynamic to describe before telling what happened: for some reason (probably cultivated by him) I felt responsible to buffer between my husband and the unpleasantness of life. He was an overburdened graduate student, so I did everything I could think of to lighten his burden. I had so few expectations of him other than completing his education. I did the lion's share of the childcare, home care, financial duties, social obligations and everything else I could think of. If he was hungry, I brought him a sandwich. If he needed to apply to a graduate program, I did the entire application, leaving only the essay and the signature for him to complete. In hindsight, if I believed that loving him meant making his life as easy as possible, why did I believe so certainly that he loved me? He did not go out of his way to make my life as easy as possible.
You'll notice that nowhere in this post is there a reference to pornography or sex addiction. It's because for the first nearly 8 years of our marriage, there was no reference to pornography or sex addiction. I was completely and entirely unaware. I will save that component of our marriage for the next post.
Wednesday, March 26, 2014
Why I am blogging
I've been using the CynthiaSleepy pseudonym for several years now as my anonymous handle for issues relating to my husband's pornography addiction. It seemed as good a name as any, and at the time I created it, I was perpetually sleep deprived thanks to my several young children. They are a little older now and I'm not as sleepy as I was.
But I'm still married to a man that is still addicted to pornography. Recovery is the name of the game here in the Sleepy household, though our kids don't know it. My husband has been a member of Sexaholics Anonymous for several years now, and I have been a member of S-Anon for not quite as many years. These 12 step programs are saving us and our marriage. Through SA, my husband (lets call him Cyrus) has found the first tools that have ever worked in helping him live without acting out in his addiction. He recently received his first-ever 1 year of sobriety chip.
S-Anon provides me with two invaluable resources. First, the fellowship and support of women who get it. Second, the tools I can use to make healthy and happy decisions about my life. I am finding serenity and confidence as I work the steps.
I have never understood the appeal of blogging about such personal issues, until I recently started reading two wonderful blogs on the topic of betrayal by a spouse: My Name is Jacy and eatmyscabs. In seeing their honesty, realism and hope, I have realized that I have lots of ideas and thoughts about what I have been through. Writing down what I think has provided me so much clarity as I have made choices in my addiction-affected marriage, and I'm ready to put some of my thoughts out there into internetland.
But I'm still married to a man that is still addicted to pornography. Recovery is the name of the game here in the Sleepy household, though our kids don't know it. My husband has been a member of Sexaholics Anonymous for several years now, and I have been a member of S-Anon for not quite as many years. These 12 step programs are saving us and our marriage. Through SA, my husband (lets call him Cyrus) has found the first tools that have ever worked in helping him live without acting out in his addiction. He recently received his first-ever 1 year of sobriety chip.
S-Anon provides me with two invaluable resources. First, the fellowship and support of women who get it. Second, the tools I can use to make healthy and happy decisions about my life. I am finding serenity and confidence as I work the steps.
I have never understood the appeal of blogging about such personal issues, until I recently started reading two wonderful blogs on the topic of betrayal by a spouse: My Name is Jacy and eatmyscabs. In seeing their honesty, realism and hope, I have realized that I have lots of ideas and thoughts about what I have been through. Writing down what I think has provided me so much clarity as I have made choices in my addiction-affected marriage, and I'm ready to put some of my thoughts out there into internetland.
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