1. Tell his father and brother the whole truth.
2. Return to counselling with a family of origin therapist
3. Stop smoking, over eating, retreating into fantasy
4. Stay in SA meeting at least once every week, and I-Group at least once every week
5. Get tested for STDs on a regular basis
6. Set up and pay for a lie detector test
7. Accept that if I will not promise fidelity to someone who is incapable of keeping that promise
I can dream.
That is all I have left of this marriage.
Just a few dreams to bide my time and keep my head together until my penance time is up and I can truly move on.
I dreamt I was with my first husband, who cheated like crazy. When I take him back in my dreams, I know he will cheat, but I accept it. In the dream. And now I know that when I am accepting it in the dream, that in real life He is cheating, too.
I cried, in the dream. I cried for the marriage I had lost and the love that never was. I sobbed in my bed just like I sob in real life.
I cried when I woke up.
If wishes were horses…….
He is ‘camping’. I don’t know where he is, in truth. And then I dream of infidelity, and I trust my dreams more than I trust any word he says. He still minimizes his addiction, compares it to other addicts to make himself feel better. He still sounds sorrier for himself than he does for the devastation and trauma and abuse he ploughs into others.
And still, a little piece of me wishes he would say ‘I’m sorry, I’m so, so, terribly sorry. I don’t know how I could ever have treated you like that.’
But I know, even if he did say those words, he would still be an addict. And, the next day, or the next minute, he would be back into day dreams of sex and whores and lying to say whatever it took to get me out of his addict space and just let him get on with his ‘life’. He would sell his tomorrow’s for one more minute of escape.
I wish I could stop dreaming of wishing, and of infidelity, and of past relationships, and just dream of any future I might have.
If I get to have one.
I wish I had some place, some one, safe. Someone who would hold me while I fall apart, sob, and lie to me that everything will be OK.
I will never be OK again.
Maybe I will heal, whatever that might mean.
But I am forever crippled.
SA is my Morgul blade.