I am a survivor of childhood sexual abuse and have been married to a sex addict for seven years. I have two beautiful children whom I love dearly with all my heart and I really mean it when I say I can't yet give up on this marriage because of my children. My mother's parents divorced when she was two years old and this divorce made a huge impact on her life as well as mine (my abuser was her emotionally and mentally unstable half-brother) and I vow never to pass on the same emptiness, loneliness and victimization upon my children. Perhaps I will have no choice but to leave this marriage behind if my healing journey leads me there but today I'm dedicated to the journey itself. I will try, I will try one more time for myself, my husband and my children and this time, I'm finally speaking out.
I first found out about my husband's sex addiction when my second child was 3 months old. When I finally found out, he was already in an emotional affair with an older woman, a divorcee to be exact, and had gone to massage parlors on several occasions. It seems that he "treated" himself to these places on special occasions like his birthday and my child's due date. He even made phone calls to this other woman while I was in the hospital after I gave birth to our child. I remember the feelings of loneliness, emptiness and isolation all too clearly. We even got into a huge fight in the hospital room just a few hours after giving birth to our child. I blamed my crazy hormones and lack of emotional stability at the time, but now I realize I must "felt" that something wasn't right. One gift- if you can call it that- I gained from all the emotional and sexual abuse I endured in my childhood is the gift of intuition. I can just "feel" something isnt' right when it isn't. I just knew something was wrong. And sure enough, something was terribly wrong.
Then came my postpartum depression. I had to get on anti-depressants for my horrible depression because it got so bad to the point where I was unable to take care of my children without the help of medication. I had no will to get out of bed in the morning, no will to live, no will to hope for the future. I was this horrible, dark place at the time- which I now call "quicksand"- and I needed help--fast. Zoloft seemed to alleviate severe symptoms until I found myself becoming dependent on it. I would be terribly anxious and nervous if I ever forgot to take my meds. Then one day I had a huge mental breakdown where I was crying, screaming and cursing the world for no apparent reason. I started having flashbacks of my childhood abuse and retreated to being a scared, abused little girl.
I don't exactly remember how I got myself out of that "quicksand" but I know God had something to do with it. I stopped taking meds, went to therapy and started feeling better. I even completed my Master's Degree program and started a new job. My life was getting back on track and I was happy that I was finally using my God-given talents and abilities to make a positive progression toward a brighter future. Then it happened again.
This time I caught my husband exchanging text messages with a "stripper" he met while he was at his best friend's bachelor party. I'm pretty sure she was a prostitute and they had sex. But of course like any other sex addicts, he denies it until this day and claims that it was just a friendly chat. It doesn't matter anymore. I came too far from that low point of my life when I would put on a detective hat and go through his phone records to figure out exactly what happened. It doesn't matter. All that matters is that he cheated on me again and broke my heart...again.
About five months ago, I found out again that he called prostitutes to his hotel room while he was on a business trip in Chicago. I can't even go into all the details of how I found out and the amount of pain and anger that followed because it's shameful. It's too shameful to share and too painful to recall. All I can say that it took this many years and this many counts of infidelity to finally realize that he wasn't just a cheater, he was a sex addict. And it took nearly seven years for me to finally realize that his affairs weren't my fault.
I still can't believe the amount of strength that exists within me. I'm still amazed at how I managed to carry on through this many years while believing that he was cheating because I was worthless. Yes I battled depression and still have issues with anger, shame and guilt...but in the end, I survived. I'm a survivor. I went through hell and back and am still here, sane, coherent with enough intellect to type out this post. I'm a survivor and I deserve love from myself.
I mark today my official day one of recovery and I will be triumphant in the battle against my husband's sex addiction and my fixation with the addict. A sick form of sexual disease clouded my childhood and I refuse to let another man's sexual disease cloud my present and my future.
Today, all that matters is that I'm on a journey of healing. I refuse to turn back to that dark place again and let another sickness ruin my life. Now my shameful secrets finally have a voice. Hopefully once the darkness comes to light, it'll lose its power and evaporate into thin air bringing me to a brighter place.
No comments:
Post a Comment