Expectation: The Seed of Resentment

On a recovery site a betrayed spouse lamented that her UH never did anything for Valentine’s Day. She said ‘he has until midnight to do something this year’.

This is heartbreakingly tough. While I totally empathize with her wanting her Uh to demonstrated that he thinks about her through some sort of physical demonstration, to expect him too is a huge set up for disappointment.

That said, if I make clear what I would like, if I have made a clear request he has agreed to, it is definitely seed for resentment and disappointment. Example: My UH and I agreed he would approach me to talk each day. He has dragged his feet in processing through this mess for nearly four years and my patience has long ago worn thin. He agreed. In fact, per the recommendation of a boundaries expert, we both jotted down the agreement, dated and initialed it.

He broke the agreement within two days and has not followed through since. He is too uncomfortable talking about it. Self preservation via avoidance.

That said, NOT talking about a want or need and then holding your spouse responsible for not meeting said want or need is akin to what gets so many unfaithful into their sick choices. They assume we betrayed are mind readers or they are embarrassed or afraid to bring up their concern or hurt. Resentment builds = acting out.

They act as judge, jury and executioner—all without any awareness or input from the accused and sentenced. My UH felt we did not have sex often enough when our kids were 3 and 5. He never talked to me about it. He assumed I was withholding sex from him to hurt him. He assumed I was rejecting him out of spite. Even though that had never been nor has ever been a feature of my character. Even though I kept him informed as to my exhaustion as a stay at home often single parent during all his traveling. Even though I communicated my chagrin as to why I had such low libido. Even though I even went to the doctor to try to figure it out.

20/20 hind sight–he was withdrawing truth and intimacy as well as investment in our marriage. Duh…effected me negatively as I felt more and more lonely, isolated and over burdened with responsibilities. 20/20 hindsight.

Point being–he did not give me the opportunity to know he was considering stepping outside the marriage. He did not give US a chance to work through this very common season of young family and low sex life. He assumed the worst of me and acted. He abandoned US.

Assumptions and judgements without benefit of checking the facts or talking it through is the perfect storm for disastrous actions and consequences.

Load a gun of resentment if your UH does not do something to acknowledge Valentine’s Day without any discussion… ??

Make an ASS of U and ME.

Valentine’s Day Blues

This is perhaps the most difficult holiday for a betrayed spouse to face. It highlights in full technicolor how deceived and lied to she has been, especially for those of us who are suffering from our spouse’s long term and/or multiple affairs.

It hurts to think of all the Valentines days my spouse undertook to meet some sort of expectations he felt pressured to meet during his infidelity. Sleeping with another woman, yet expected to give his wife hearts and candy? Hypocrisy at its worst.

No wonder the unfaithful hate Valentines day and see it as a huge trigger. It is but another reminder of how much deception they perpetrated on their unsuspecting spouse. What a lie any display of ‘love’ was during their cheating. How manipulative were the cards and flowers that kept their duped spouse in place and in the dark.

How great the shame. It is perhaps one of the most shameful things a person can do. Lying in solid three dimensional form.

Personally, I can’t stand the thought of more hearts and flowers when there has been no relational healing. He is unwilling to make amends, so any cards or gifts feel like a continuation of fake and manipulative. Trying to somehow convince me that he ‘loves’ me?

Love is not withholding amends, remorse, empathy, acknowledgement of the damage, etc. That is selfish self protection. More of the same. Self interest.

Trying to somehow smooth over that fact is cruel.

DOn’t give me flowers if you can’t give me remorse and reparations. They are more meaningless attempts to keep me serving you/extending you grace and patience. They are not apology. Apology is apology. Remorse is remorse. Flowers or candy or cards do not substitute.

Valentines Day has been a bad joke since 1990–sady, nothing has changed. We do not have a relationship that supports any Valentine’s Day recognition or celebration beyond what you would do or say to a colleague or acquaintance.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

She Needed Someone to Heal Her…

…so she became a healer.

Ever since I can remember people have come to me to talk. As a willing and patient listener, I became a fovorite person in which to confide. This was particularly true in high school. Perhaps it was a function of my empathic nature. Or maybe it was because I did not feel heard, so I listened.

I did for others what I needed for myself.

And it was healing. For them. For me.

Perhaps that is at the nucleus or my draw to blogging.

Before d-days, when I had energy to expend on my dreams post empty nest, I wrote, and wrote, and wrote. Yes I produced novels and short stories. Hundreds of thousands of words. Many published. Well received.

Post d-day, I have spent many long months and years regaining my equilibrium and energy. Not unlike Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, the power was alway right here with me. The power to emote, the power to communicate, the power to heal.

And so in doing, I heal myself.

Never stop moving forward using the power you always have had—the power to use your talents and participate in life. We all have a gift. Nothing and no-one but ourself can stop us from using it.

Too healing.

Five Step Boundary Solution

I wrote this reply/comment on a recovery forum to a betrayed wife who was thinking of her request of her UH to turn over his phone for compete access to her, as a ‘boundary’

My understanding of boundaries is that they are not something you make another person do. It is not even a request. One can not enforce a request because all adults have the right to say yes or no to a request (which gives the requester lots of information about the person they are asking to comply, though)

A boundary is something one does to protect oneself. In the case of what you are saying, it would not be asking for the US’s phone or access to it. That would be a request. (A reasonable request in this circumstance) The betrayed can not enforce that request or any request.

The betrayed CAN enforce the consequence of what he or she will do (or not do) IF the reasonable request is not complied with. Example: I will not sleep in the same room with you if you continue to keep your phone access private. I do not feel safe sleeping next to you. OR I will be living at my mother’s until you can comply with these measures that would help me feel safe.

A boundary is something the boundary setter can enforce to protect his or herself.

There is a podcast I have found very helpful in understanding boundaries: what they are and how to set them. Vicki Tidwell Palmer is the speaker and author:

beyondbitchy.com

She has a worksheet that breaks down exactly what and how to set a boundary : “The Five Step Boundary Solution”

Her book, The Five Step Boundary Solution is excellent in helping betrayed to sort through this difficult time. Her podcast and FREE copy of the worksheet are at her website, linked above. The book explains in more depth.

Nature as Distraction and Solace

I’ve written about the power of nature to calm and inspire a number of times. Whether I find the help in my back garden, or travel to someplace new, the deep soul-filling effect of opening my eyes and heart when I have the opportunity to immerse myself in my natural surrounding remains one of the mainstays of my self care and healing.

Today I am on a three day visit to California’s central coast. B&B hotel in Cambria, we are only about half dozen miles from the famous Hearst Castle. Slightly north of that site is a stretch of beach where Elephant seals come to rest, welp their young, mate and then return to the sea. This time of year the mothers are nursing their hungry babies. A few large males remain, but most of the animals on the beach are either the dark fur infants, the silver shiny larger babies and the moms. Lots of screaming vocalizations from the hungrier babies. Mothers use their flippers to toss sand on their backs to remain cool. Babies nuzzle into feed, and the occasional large male mostly remains dormant in sleep.

It is an amazing site to see so many huge animals return to the beach of their birth to start the circle of life a new. If the sight and sound of them were not amazing enough, the deep blue of the sea, the spray from waves as they dash against the rocks that dot the entrance to the water, the soft white mist clinging to the coastline and the bright late afternoon sun doing battle with the elements to warm the sand–all shout spectacular and vie for my attention.

As I approach the crescent of sand where hundreds of seals lie, I cast my eyes to the soft spring green of the grass lining the trail. A couple cotton tail bunnies sit in the rough of brush and green, mouths chewing/wiggling whatever delicacy they’ve found.

“Isn’t nature amazing?”, my girlfriend asks as she walks by me toward the beach.

Wow…and yes. What an understatement.

Tomorrow we’ll go for a tour of the Castle Randolph Hearst built, bringing thousands of European works of art, and crafts persons to this isolated stretch of shoreline. Having seen many a real European castle, I am imagining this re-creation will be amazing in its contrast with the rugged natural surrounds and the distance all these object had to travel to get here.

And yet, it will not, it can not compare to the wonder of the natural beauty the universe has brought to this time and place.

If that isn’t the stuff of soul food and healing, I don’t know what would be. It never ceases to amaze me—all the variety of natural wonders to see no matter where one finds oneself. Take it in. Revel in it. Breath. Allow yourself to be amazed at how each of us fits into this bio-system so beautifully, each having his or her place in this time on our planet. It puts things into perspective, allowing me to feel both my relevance and my infinitesimal smallness in the vast universe.

As John Lennon said, “Life goes on with you and without you.”

While I am here, I am so very grateful.

Not “Just Friends”

After years I recovery, I am finally reading the classic Affair recovery book by Shirley Glass, Not Just Friends. I think it was Mong one of the library books I checked out months ago, but it got put aside amongst the avalanche of other materials I was trying to pour over.

It is still triggering to read, even though it has been focusing on the sort of affairs that come about through casual contact t the office or in the neighborhood that grows. That was NOT the case with my UH. He intentionally pursued his AP–not doubts or other intentions.

Shirley Glass says that such ‘for sex only’ affair are nearly always a result of entitlement and/or sex addiction. Not surprisingly, my UH has both.

It is difficult for me to ascertain which is more painful—the unintentional slide of morals caused by close proximity and attraction, or the intention pursuit. Of course it feels like my UH’s intentions being fully focused on satisfying his desires from the get go, feels much more harmful than had he stumbled into it. Other betrayed wives may disagree. They may feel that sex addiction somehow answers why the UH did what he did. That he couldn’t help himself. To the I say ‘poppycock’. It might be a reason but not an excuse any more than unintentional beginnings excuse the poor choices.

I toyed with another stumbling block today that has been there from the beginning. How do Sex Addict’s wives ever manage the feeling of being no more than an object to their UH? How do they get past the non consensual aspect of being deceived into having sex with their spouse? (Spouse knowing their wife would not have sex with them had she known they were sleeping with someone else? How do you shed the feeling of being so used. That sick in the pit of the stomach icky abused feeling?

I had a near rape experience in college that comes nowhere close to eliciting the deep feeling of revulsion I feel over having sex with my UH during the same time he was sleeping with her. It makes my skin crawl and my heart sick. Not all the time, like an obsession that rules my life, but certainly any time the thought of marital sex goes through my mind. I can’t imagine feeling attracted or wanting sex with my abuser.

Perhaps it is because he has done little to no repair work with me. I try to imagine what it would be like if he were apologetic, empathetic, remorseful etc. I still feel revulsion and deep violation. It is a quandry. One that he seems complacent in addressing. That said, he is a prostrate cancer survivor that would have to go through hoops to regain sexual function, if that would work is unknown. SO it may well be a moot point anyways.

It grieves me the our lives have taken this turn. That I will most probably never know what it is like to be sexually loved again. It is sad. Sad how that part of my life has ended.

It is beyond my ability to heal. I turn it over to my Higher Power.

Facing the Effects of Dysfunctional Family

Pia Mellody an internationally renowned lecturer on the childhood origins of emotional dysfunc-tion Has worked in the field for many years. Reading her classic book “Facing Codependence: What is it, Where it comes from , How it sabotages our Lives” has given me a much kinder, gentler paradigm on the concept of codependence. It is not unlike an atheist trying to read a book steeped in religion. If he can see past the cultural negatives and personal negative history on the subject, there is a goldmine of wisdom and help contained within.

The term ‘Codependence” has gotten a bad rap, at best, misunderstood and villianized more likely.

It was actually the families of alcoholics and other chemically dependent people who brought the cluster of symptoms to the attention of therapists in treatment centers. Over reaction or numbness, perfectionism, over control, over giving, the plague of over intensified shame, fear, anger and pain—all are hallmarks of adults who grew up in dysfunctional families.

Rather than the shameful thinking earlier hype about codependency seemed to generate, there is heaps of compassion to go around when one realizes that the effects of a childhood lived under the influence of usually well meaning, yet inter-generationally effected individuals can produce.

The primary symptoms of having been under the influence of a dysfunctional childhood setting are experienced at opposite extremes:

-Experiencing low or non existent self esteem. OR. Having an arrogant or grandiose stance.

-Being too vulnerable OR being invulnerable

-Being “bad’ or rebellious. OR Being “good”, perfect

-Being too dependent. OR Being antidependent or needless/wantless

-Being Chaotic. OR Being controlling

Mellody states that when first in recovery, one feels like they may be moving too far in the opposite direction. Recovery feels so extreme because functional behavior feels so unfamiliar, no matter what extreme we may be coming from. It tends to take enough pain in the dysfunctional life before one is willing to do anything to change. At first, one often feels worse and worse—even though there are incredible feelings of joy and hope about finally seeing what had been happening all those years.

The idea that one can choose not to be the way one has always been can be a heady experience. One may need or experience others reminding them that they are a bit too self centered–a natural state when one is working on themselves in recovery.

“No one else can do the work for us, and no one is meant too. Although our parents/primary caregivers were the ones who should have helped us by exposing us to functional reality and respectful caregiving, there is no need or benefit in blaming them today. Once the damage is done, our parents can not make it right or fix us. We each have to learn how to recover on our own.”

Once we come to recognize the damage in our own lives, we learn to treat ourselves with more respect, to develop boundaries, to own our reality, to become responsible for our own wants and needs, and to begin to approach life with more moderation.

This book was hard and hopeful. Deep in ‘ah ha’.

Until we see the dysfunction working in our own lives and relationships, it’s almost impossible to do anything about it.

A wake up call after such a life altering season as is intimate betrayal– may just be the impetus for both unfaithful AND betrayed.

We All Want Progress, But We Resist Change

Part of the seeming unfairness of being the victim of intimate betrayal is the need for the betrayed to change. No getting around it, we betrayed are now living in a new reality. We may have loved our supposed marriage before d-day, but after finding out your marriage contract has been null and void for whatever length of time, it sends the unsuspecting betrayed into a tailspin.

Having the rug pulled from beneath what you thought was your reality has a huge disabling effect, physically, emotionally, spiritually and possibly financially. There is little else to compare with living life in full belief that one’s spouse is someone they are not. It simply knocks the air from lungs and for many, the very motivation to go on.

It is at this precise moment in our life history that requires us to muster more strength than we have ever had to gather before. More unfairness. More shock and awe.

No wonder when we are so traumatized and depleted that we want to give up. Some of us, sadly, do. If not the ultimate solution of suicide, we shrink into a shadow of our former self. Some of us lose enormous amounts of weight. Some of us fall into deep depression. Some of us over eat. Some of us over sleep. Some of us can’t sleep. Some of us get sick emotionally, some physically.

If our reserves are already low because of normal life stress and challenges, we are at great threat of catastrophic collapse.

WHooooooaaaaa. Pull back on the reins of life. Pull the plug on anything more than bare subsistence. Slllllooooooowwwww down to the lowest level possible. If you ever needed to ask for hep, this is the time. Call upon any and all resources. This is no time to be shy or to feel like you are imposing. There’s been a death in the family.

The death of your marriage. The death of the spouse you thought you knew.

When will our culture come to realize that this life trauma is just this serious? The person we thought our spouse to be has died. Except they did not get hit by a car or succumb to cancer. They purposely betrayed us.

Wake up society. Infidelity is catastrophic.

SO here we are sitting in the ashes of our life. We are perhaps more depleted, more depressed, more sleep deprived, more nauseous, more low than we have ever been. Who wouldn’t resist change? Change requires energy and investment. We’ve just had the plug pulled on our life. Where is this ‘energy’ supposed to come from?

Believe. Scrape every ounce of belief in yourself, your goodness, your innate worth and vow to treat you with kid gloves. Kindness is your new best friend. Self compassion kindness. If you do nothing more in a day than eat and sleep, it is enough until you regain some strength. Until.

No job is more important than your health, mental and physical. This is big stuff folks. All the stops need to be pulled out to attend to you. Even if it is only you who can help. Even if you are miles from friends and family. All the more reason to rely on you. That incredible person you were before your life fell apart is still there. You are still that amazing giving and loving person. Don’t allow anyone’s sick choices to take your awesomeness away.

Chicken soup for the soul is the Rx.

Employ any and all methods of self care. Heaven is right in your midst if you just notice it. Be mindful of your blessings. Many still remain. Rely on what brings you joy and strength albeit it old films, the Bible, music, reading, writing, sleeping, nature… whatever. DO it! Or don’t do it until you get some rest. If that means medication for a season, so be it. Take care of your needs. You are valuable and precious. You are needed. You are lovable. You. The one and only you who makes a difference in lives– YOU.

Worry about change when you are back on your feet. Take it slow. Be kind to you. Change will look better, more doable and welcome when you are stronger. One day at a time, you will figure out what path is right for you. And you will choose more wisely rested and cared for…by friends and family if you are lucky. By YOU certainly. Who better to know what feeds you than you?

You got this.

Having a Great Time. Wish I Were Here

It is so understandable and common to be swept away by a tsunami of grief and triggers when your spouse has betrayed you. It is the stuff of PTSD.

The body stores this trauma, pouring hormones, adrenaline and other unhealthy levels of chemicals into the bloodstream of the traumatized. It is we’ll known the delirious effect of long term stress. Being blindsided by infidelity and the ensuing loss of the marriage and spouse you thought you had is a recipe for just that. Loooooooooooong term stress.

I’ve read accounts of persons so effected having a horrible day of stomach aches, headaches, body aches and nausea only to discover that it is the anniversary of a day of traumatic revelations. The body does indeed keep the score (Bessell Van Der Kolk In The Body Keeps the Score, Dr Van Der Kolk uses recent scientific advances to show how trauma literally reshapes both body and brain, compromising sufferers’ capacities for pleasure, engagement, self-control, and trust.)

I have witnessed the hair trigger reactions of a combat survivor. Scary for me the listener, but devastating for the person so easily triggered by a life occurrence that most could take in stride. I have felt my own roiling stomach, crawling skin, shortness of breath, waves of impending doom and late night wakings without hope or ability to return to a restful sleep. Many have referred to it as hell on earth.

Hell would be preferable.

There is hope and good news. For those who have tried and failed to quell the assault of unwanted symptoms, there are methods that help. Cognitive Process Therapy, EMDR, carefully prescribed and monitored medications are among some of the proven professionally driven hope.

For many of us the answer lies in a tincture of time and a large dose of mindfulness. Presence. Gratitude for all that is good in the here and now. Treating ourself well, as you would a dear friend who needed kindness and compassion. The benefits of self care, self compassion, slowing down to smell the cliche roses pays off hugely. It doesn’t happen anywhere near overnight, but with tenacity and care, it does happen.

I have been on local and distant excursions since d-day. I have been able to breath in the wonder of each place I have visited by remain fully present. Call it distraction through intention or what you will—I have found in it great relief from the perseverative intrusion of trauma reminders.

If you are still stuck in “Having a great time, Wish I were here”, thinking, you are the victim of your body and mind on trauma. You can heal. You can soothe the fire of anxiety. You can do it through patient practice of presence. No need to travel (though travel is wonderful balm). Nature is as close as outdoors. Beauty is there. Wonders and miracles exist there as they exist in allowing yourself to be swept up in beautiful music, art, hobby or other beloved activity.

If you can’t seem to get yourself ‘there, perhaps you need an evaluation for some of the professional interventions mentioned. There is no shame in needing help to heal. You deserve compassionate care and love.

For those who can baby step their way into mindful presence—you will increasingly be able to say “Having a Great Time. I AM here!”

Healing Emotional Vertigo

Or “Who is this crazy woman in my body?”

My punishing thoughts. A brain on fire.

I am someone who deserves to be understood and cherished, rather than criticized and improved.

Have you had these thoughts, feelings, needs?

It is time to arrest the process of depletion the trauma I have suffered has caused. It’s time to stop ignoring my body’s signals and instead allow them authority to teach me about myself. Time to keep my life as simple and quiet as possible, allow myself comforts of the senses and small pleasures.

Home cooking of familiar foods reminiscent of my childhood. Enjoying a steaming cup of my favorite tea. The sound of moving water; taking in the look of it, the soft caress it provides in a hot shower. Walk along it, whether a lake or the sea as I marvel at its many moods.

Laughter is as much a part of my healing as weeping. Revisiting favorite films from my past or watching a new series on Netflix help to mend that sore ache in my heart that has been my constant companion.

Sometimes life offers a respite, something, or in my case, someone new. My first grandchild was born two years past d-day and although she lives on the other side of the country, my precious few visits have allowed me to revisit the long hours of my own young motherhood spent watching the magical process of infant hood unfolding. What a treasure to look into the innocent eyes of the future and see in them the simplicity of life as it used to be.

It is time to reset my internal clock to the rhythms of nature. Watch the sunrise and set. Gaze up at the constellations. Observe the cycle and changing shape of the moon. Connect to a simpler slower time. Even in a time of great suffering there can be connection to our depth of character and memory.

Memories of a season of life when I was under the protective loving care of my parents. Living under their roof, eating my mom’s simple filling meals, lying next to my basset hound ‘sister’ while synchronizing my breathing with her soft snore. Even if life were no less dangerous and dark then, it was hidden from my awareness by being cushioned within the walls of my family home and the unconditional love there.

In this time of recovery, I look for a way to transform all this misery into wisdom and compassion. Just as the most revered men and woman of history have done. Just as the everyday strong souled people of a lie kept from them have found reincarnation as a more resilient empathetic self.

Although I allow myself to speak of my sorrow and loss, I will not let it define me. I’ve found a wonderful group through Alanon. The meeting I go to is composed mostly of senior women who have been molded through their own grief. They remind me that I have choices and it is okay to say no.

After taking good care of my body and soul for as long as it takes, it will begin to once again take care of me. Slowly, I allow myself to enjoy the return of more positive emotions. Contentment and calmness sneak back in with the balm of intentional calmness. A new spark of curiosity, a bit more energy punctuate what have been the darkest days of my life.

I can again feel the great tenderness I have held for the important people in my life, living and dead. Little by little, I no longer feel quite so broken, so alone. It is akin to surviving a near death experience, filling me with gratitude for the tulip bulbs that are pushing their way through the warming earth and listening to every Michael Buble song that comes on the radio.

It seems I can never plan a day as good as the one that unfurls if I just leave lots of white space in my schedule. Slow down and let the day unfold. Maybe, just maybe, a day I thought would be dismal may become a bright memory.

We all have a seasons of suffering, if we are fortunate to live long enough. In this season, if I allow myself to explore myself and my relationship to the world, my heart and body and mind will strengthen, grow, heal. Step out of the shadow-life great grief brings. I believe most of us are equipped to heal from trauma. We can choose to dig deep into the entrenched strengths of our identity.

The cure is growth.

Post traumatic growth syndrome. We expand our point of view and our life, so too, will follow.