Huff Puff

I'm really looking forward to meeting with my therapist tomorrow.  (Never thought I'd say that.)  I haven't made as much progress this week as I would have liked but I'm still here.  I'm still trying.  That counts.  I can't weed out all the dandelions in one go.

I'm also looking forward to my Mom's visit for Christmas.  Remember when I was scared?  It's still new and new is often scary.  But the genuine love and concern from my Mom is a life jacket when I'm lost at sea.

I still want to run. I still want to hide.  Wish the pain away instead of leaning into it.  I've tried it.  Doesn't work so well.  I end up crumpled in front of the fireplace waiting for a miracle.

I do see miracles all around me.

I am blessed beyond my capacity to truly comprehend.

And yet.

I yearn for something more.  I know in the 12 step groups one of the biggest things is letting things go.  Letting Go and Letting God.  Recognizing what I can control and what I cannot. I find that it is easy to say and very hard to do.  If I let go what if I get hurt again?

To which I hear Wolf from The 10th Kingdom say, "Well, maybe you won't get hurt. But, huff-puff, you won't get loved either."

It's been a long day.  And I am grateful, SO grateful, for new friends I have found along this way.
Sorry there's not much more to the post.  I don't have much to offer at the moment.
This is my reality.

Two addicts?

I have got to write some of my thoughts down before I go crazy.

My husband struggles with an addiction to pornography.

I have read blog after blog.  Forums. FB groups. You Tube videos.

I know I'm not alone now.

Which is huge.

But it's all still very raw and scary to me. Which is odd because we've been married 7 1/2 years and I've known the whole time that it's an issue.  But didn't understand that it's bigger than that.  All the people I've talked with and read from suggest boundaries.  Boundaries are what make me feel safe.  I've tried but never had words or encouragement that I was doing what was right for me.  I'm still angry that I even have to have boundaries in the first place.  That I could be so hurt feels like my fault.  It feels like I should have seen it coming.  I should have put up the boundaries to keep myself safe and free from hurt but I didn't so, like a fool, I got hurt.  There's a lot of personal shame that I feel about the whole situation and that kind of pisses me off.  Why am *I* the one that feels the shame when *I* didn't do anything.  I didn't go out and look at other men. I didn't sit and think sexually about someone else. And yet I feel the fool.

So it's hard to reach out.  To get the help and support *I* need because I feel like I should have seen it coming and prevented the pain somehow.  I've always known he's struggled with pornography.  I don't totally understand addiction and the cycle and the chemical side.  I know that addiction runs in families and his parents have struggled with it.  This video hits the heart of the matter though.  I am afraid that I will reach out to the wrong people.  That in the end I will be hurt more.  Like when we told his parents about his addiction and I got bip. Zero. Nothing. They pretty much said, "Thanks for telling us." And left it at that.  Maddening. The few friends I have reached out to have been pretty supportive and I would be lost without them.  Someone else, a family member, that I told- said "Yeah, we struggle with it too." But there was no connection.  No "I feel your pain" like I thought there would be.  So it's hard.

I'm a mess most of the day.  Telling myself that I *HAVE* to get dressed, that I cannot get back in bed and wallow like I want to.  I research and when I hit a raw nerve or feel like "YES! She gets it! I'm not alone and I'm NOT crazy" and then sit at the computer sobbing I wonder how much the kids can handle seeing.  I'm a mess and they know it.  Internally they get that.  So I call it quits before I feel like I'm done.  Wipe away the tears and go make lunch.  Because I still need to do that.  But I really just want to run and cry and get better.  I'm not sure how to balance that with every day life.

There's a term of "co-addiction" that scares me.  I'm not an addict.  He is.

But I might be.

I might be addicted to acting out on the fear because that's what I know.  It's still new.  And I'm offended by the thought that I might be an addict too.  (And usually when there's offense it's because it hits close to home.) More thoughts on that as I figure out what it even means.