By the Betrayed

I am sitting down and writing. I'm not sure how this will all come out in words on my computer screen but I am going to let my mind empty and my fingers fly.

A couple of weeks ago a friend called me and expressed to me some concerns she had. She was involved in a conversation when the topic somehow turned to me. She said she felt guilty for sitting there, listening, not saying anything about the fact that I wasn't there and they probably shouldn't be speaking about me. I appreciated her call. It would have been so much easier for her to say nothing to me and, most likely, I would have never found out.

The problem is, the things that were discussed were very personal and very intimate and not just only about me, but about my family. I shared these things a couple of years ago seeking help and support and I was very careful with whom I shared with. So, when this friend told me that these things were discussed I was so hurt and scared and shocked.

I want to protect the people whose names are involved.
It's not fair to them.

I reached out to one family member and told him what had happened. I told him that I couldn't guarantee that this would be the end of his story being spread. He said he understood but he seemed weary.

It broke my heart.

When this all happened a couple of years ago, this person encouraged me to reach out to others but he trusted that I would reach out to those who would honor him and his part in my trauma.

What do I do?

People will say to me, "Alice, you need to work on trusting people. I know you were hurt and betrayed but you can't let that ruin how you move forward in relationships."

Being betrayed by someone who understands betrayal is confusing.

Having trust broken by someone who understands how fragile and delicate trust is after a broken heart is devastating.

I need to remember that I carry many secrets and sacred stories of others lives in my heart. I need to remember that these lives aren't topics to be carelessly discussed with others. These stories are our lives, the lives of our loved ones, our most vulnerable selves.

Love and Betrayal

 It's finished! It's finished! 

In 2014 I was interviewed for a book that I was sure would never be published but GUESS WHAT?
It's finished! 

I haven't finished reading it but so far it is wonderful and helpful and educating.

Betrayal Trauma is Real.

Get yourself a copy and let me know what you think.

I saw it today at Deseret Book but I heard you can get it at Barnes and Noble and Amazon.

People Notice

People Notice. 

They have been asking me "what's wrong?" or "what's going on?" and they tell me "I'm worried about you" because they have noticed my subtle steps backwards. My isolation.

It's not like me. 

It's also not like me to share another persons story {especially a loved ones story}.  It's not like me to share someone else's secrets or their shame. 

But what happens if I am a part of their story? What happens if someone else's story directly affects me and hurts me so deeply that I leave Facebook and Voxer and all my chat groups? 

Because I did.

What happens if I don't ever want to leave my bed? 

Because I don't. 

And what happens when people start noticing? 

Because they do. 

My Deepest Apologies

Dear "PHYSICALLY" Beautiful Women {according to Mr. Wonderful},

I specify the "physical" importance because this letter is for you.

I am sorry.  I am sorry that I have felt threatened by you.  I am sorry that I let myself feel inadequate and worthless while I was standing next to Mr. Wonderful as he was noticing you.  I am sorry that I hated you and that I wish you would wear more clothes in order to make ME feel more safe and help HIM with is addiction.  I am sorry I objectified you as a way to protect myself from you.

I am so so sorry.

This is not my excuse.  This is my explanation.

Mr. Wonderful promised me his heart.  He promised me his everything.  He promised me that I would never have to worry about "other women".  But Mr. Wonderful lied.  Mr. Wonderful has a long history of wandering eyes.  The hardest thing about this "wandering eyes issue" is that he compares what he sees (you beautiful women) to what he has (me).

Without you even noticing us, you are innocently threatening my marriage.  And so I have found myself hating you.

This is not right.  I was wrong.  I promise over the past 8 years I have done the work and educated myself to see the truth of the situation.  It isn't your fault.  It was NEVER your fault.  Your body, your hair, your smile, your clothing has NOTHING to do with my husbands choices, or mine.

I am sorry.

I'm not perfect.  I still fear that Mr. Wonderful may eventually leave me for one of you, I still feel threatened and fearful sometimes when I see you, but I am working on it.

Please forgive me.  This trauma changed me.
Before D-Day, I never had these fears or thoughts.

***If this post offends you it's okay.  It offends me too.*** 

Slipping into Darkness

Hopeless Alice

I have been through some crazy shit lately.

I've been traveling non-stop for 2 months for work, weddings, family vacations, the Togetherness Project... it's been so great and I am so grateful but it was too much.  Then, when I finally returned home, I prepared my house for company and the celebration of my daughters baptism.  It was too much. My life became unmanageable... it still is unmanageable.

To top it all off, my dad had an accident.  While helping my husband cut down our trees he fell.  He just fell out of a tree from 20 feet up and smacked directly on the cement.  I saw the whole thing.  The whole damn thing.

TRAUMA - TRAUMA - TRAUMA - TRAUMA

I HATE TRAUMA

This post isn't about my dad falling from a tree, he is alright and very lucky only suffering from 3 broken ribs, cuts, bruises and a shattered wrist injury that resulted in surgery.  So he's okay.

This post is about a different kind of fall.  One that is MORE traumatic to me than my dad falling.

This post is about a man (not Mr. Wonderful) a different man, let's call him Art.  I look up to Art so much.  I admire and trust and love him.  Art is a man who has taught me so much.  Art is a man who stands for truth and righteousness, who loves God and his family.  I know that if I was every in trouble I could pick up the phone and Art would help me anyway that he could.

The same week that my dad fell out of the tree injuring his body was the same week Art asked me to look up something on his phone and I stumbled across a history of pornography.

TRAUMA - TRAUMA - TRAUMA - TRAUMA

I HATE TRAUMA

What do I do?  How do I process this?  

Art is a pornography addict.  I knew about this.  I also "knew" that he was in recovery.  So did his wife and family.

I adore and love Art, just like I adore and love my dad.  My heart is broken.  My hope seems to be diminishing.  This world, this addiction, is taking even the best hearted people.  I am overwhelmed and I'm feeling myself slipping down the rabbit hole.

I feel heartbroken.
I feel sad.
I feel confused.
I feel hurt.
I feel betrayed.
I feel angry.
I feel scared.

I am Slipping into darkness.  

I would rather have my dad fall out of a tree sustaining the injuries he received than have Art fall back into his addiction.

I CAN'T BREATH.

"Alice Where Have You Been?"

Where have I been?

I have been honored to be part of some projects on fighting pornography.  I have been interviewed for a book that is currently being written about the effects that pornography and sex addiction has on the spouse of an addict.  I have been asked to present on pornography and participated in firesides about body image and eating disorders.  I have felt so under qualified to work with so many amazing people who dedicate their lives to making this world a better place.

I have been fighting for my marriage.  I have been working on trusting myself and my intuition.  I have been fighting against myself to trust my husband... because it feels like it's time to take those steps but I am terrified to take those steps.

I have been raising 3 beautiful children.  Teaching them about all the scary things that exist in this world and all the wonderful things and all the things in-between.  I have watched as my oldest has ventured into the big world of Jr. High and my baby growing into a little lady.

But mostly, of all these things I've been doing and all these places I have been, I am recovering.

This year has been so difficult.

Specifically one incident involving my baby has been so difficult.  And, although it was one single incident, there were so many factors that enabled this incident.  So many neglectful and painful factors.  However, this isn't my story to tell, it is hers.  I am a part of her story but it isn't mine to share.

As for my part in her story, my recovery from what she went through...

I seem to remember all the details yet, at the same time, it has felt like a tornado with winds blowing me every which way.

How does time and trauma do that?  How can it seem so fast and violent and out of control and yet, time seems to move in slow motion so that I don't miss any of the painful details?

Time is so strange.
Life is so hard.

I had a friend ask me today, "Alice, where have you been?"

I have been everywhere.  Some places have been beautiful and hopeful and wonderful.  Some places have been ugly and hopeless and dark.  I have been up and down and everywhere in between but the one place I haven't been is here.  I didn't know how to be here without writing a story that wasn't mine to write so I took a break and waited until I was ready, and now I'm ready.

Now I am here.

Dear Mr. Wonderful

Dear Mr. Wonderful,

I need to start jogging again so you think I'm in the category of all the "other girls" that you find sexy and attractive. That distract your eyes and heart and take over your penis.  

All of those "other" girls.  

The skinny, tan, young, blonde, brunette, red, blue, purple women that seem to be more than me. All the pornstars that you think are unbelievable, all the strippers that I can never be, all the bodies you've touched and dreamed of touching that aren't mine.  The random neighbors, random grocery store workers, hair stylists, the wives of your friends, etc… 

The list never ends. 

I feel like such a failure around you because of all of this. I feel like a waste of space, like I'm worth NOTHING.

It's suffocating.
It's debilitating. 

You make me feel like a mistake. Like the world is better off without me. 

And sometimes I actually believe this.
Today is one of those days.

I Don't Understand

Dear Mr. Wonderful,

Why do you find it so difficult to love me?  Why have you ALWAYS found it so difficult to accept me completely?  Why do you struggle finding peace in your decision to be with me?  I just don't understand.

I remember the day you knelt down on your knee in the snow and asked me to be your wife.  I remember feeling like the LUCKIEST girl in the world.  I remember feeling such relief that the ups and downs of our dating relationship and your indecisiveness were OVER!  I waited patiently, even though it hurt me, when you wanted to break up and then be together and then break up just so you could make sure you were able to venture out, but I understood.

Now I don't.

The Darkness will Clear

Mr. Wonderful got me my own hotel room for one night so I can get grounded again. I know he does this 99% for me and my sanity but that other 1% comes from his fear of "WHAT THE DAMN HELL IS HAPPENING TO HER!" 

My daughter is taking all of this better than I am. 

***UPDATED 12/2015***
I have been working with the detectives and the police.  They have brought a lot of clarity to me. I hate it when people lie. I especially hate it when someone I really trust lies to me. I am surviving but I can't believe what people will do to cover their tracks. But I guess I can, I am just use to it from addicts. 

Truth!

Truth!

Our 2 hour marriage counseling session was… exhausting. 

But different. 

We are back to doing “check-ins” but they seem more authentic, more… I don’t know, something. 

I’m still recovering from last week in Newport and Mr. Wonderful saying some pretty hurtful things. Blaming. Projecting. All the bullshit.

It is ALL bullshit. 

I know it, I’m just wondering if he will ever know it.

Sometimes it feels like I live with two different men. 

Unicorns and Rainbows

My Perception of My Marriage BEFORE “D-Day” 

"D-Day" stands for "Discovery Day" or "Disclosure Day" or "Day I want to DIE", etc...

Basically it's the day you realized that what you thought was real wasn't. 

Who you thought you could trust you couldn't.

It was the beginning of the longest and hardest journey of my life.

A journey I am still on.

A journey I will probably always be on.

But it's okay because the world of unicorns and rainbows was never real and I wouldn't have found true happiness there.

What lies ahead is more genuine, more authentic, more pure.

Although this journey is ugly and complicated and confusing and painful... the best lies ahead.

Or at least the best ME lies ahead. 

Breakdown

This stuff with my little girl is killing me.

I am so helpless in all of this. I feel like things are always “unique” and I can't ever find a place to express my anger. I am not allowed to be mad at "the boy" for touching Bella because he's down syndrome.  I can't be mad at "my friend" who was responsible for Bella when it happened  because we share the same social network. 

But I feel so angry. 
So so angry. 
I feel like I am on the verge of a breakdown.

A Day to Erase

Today my 7 year old daughter was molested. 
The story is long and the details are confusing. 

The 15 year old boy that molested her has special needs. 

It is complicated but it never should have happened. 

It was preventable. 

***UPDATED 12/2015***
As I go back through my writings that I never published my blood boils so much at the entire day. 
I have to edit most of this original entree. 

My daughter is strong. 
She spoke up immediately. 
She talks about things openly. 
She is beautifully healing. 

if it's possible...

Is it Possible? 

I only see Mr. Wonderful every couple of days.  During those times Mr. Wonderful and I may visit, or sometimes we may quickly pass the children off to each other and and hurry away in separate directions, or sometimes we may eat together as a family and really enjoy ourselves, or sometimes we  may fight during the quickest exchange.

I have noticed one very obvious thing about myself during these visits, no matter how brief they may be or how nice they may seem, I have noticed that I change as soon as Mr. Wonderful enters the same room that I am in.

The change that overcomes me when Mr. Wonderful shows up can take many different faces.  When it takes on pride I force myself to seem normal, or even better than normal in Mr. Wonderful's eyes, I laugh and act like I am strong(er) than I am feeling.  Another very popular face I take on is that of anger, I get so unexplainably angry at Mr. Wonderful.  Anything or everything or NOTHING he does or doesn't do makes me absolutely infuriated.  I notice that I am filled from head to toe with intense anger and I let Mr. Wonderful know just how angry I am.  Another face I sometimes take on the face of sadness, this face doesn't come around very often because there is a sense of vulnerability that accompanies sadness, and being vulnerable around Mr. Wonderful is risky.

Here's the deal...

I have thought a lot about these "faces" and what they mean, and I have discovered that they represent ONE SINGLE EMOTION... 

FEAR
(anxiety, concern, despair, uneasiness, angst, dismay, doubt,  dread, horror, concern, panic, suspicion, scare, terror, worry, pain, discouragement, sorrow, gloom, wilt, tremble, ETC...)

I am completely overcome with fear as soon as Mr. Wonderful comes anywhere near me.  

This is a painful realization for me.  And I'm sure it is a painful realization for Mr. Wonderful.

Because I have been so hurt and betrayed and manipulated by Mr. Wonderful in every way (remember how he convinced my family to keep his secret **for 5 years**  and how he used something as beautiful as reading together or dating each other a way of manipulating me in his premeditated acting out?),   I am afraid that I may never be able to recover and that even if Mr. Wonderful were to somehow manage to be completely PERFECT in his recovery and in his honesty and his loyalty and faithfulness from today until the end of time, WHAT IF I am already too far gone?  

Do you believe that can happen?

If so, do you believe it is because I am weak?  Because I can't forgive?  Because I can't forget?  Because I can't start over and give Mr. Wonderful just ONE-MORE-CHANCE?  

This is a hard one for me but I want your true feelings.  Whether these feelings come from your own personal experiences, or just how you think because of the journey you have walked in this life.  (I just got super nervous asking for advice from anyone -- please be gentle and give me your honest feedback with love.)  I just don't want to give up on my marriage or my family unit by not being STRONG ENOUGH... if I'm not strong enough then I will make myself stronger.  That is... 

if it's possible.  

Is it? 

I never would have guessed.

Thirteen years ago I never would have guessed that I would be where I am... thirteen years later.

Thirteen years ago on August 14th, 2001 I was at my wedding dinner celebration.
It was at a beautiful golf course.
We were with our family and closest friends.
We were getting married the next day.
It was a happy celebration.
I wrote and sang Mr. Wonderful a song.

Thirteen years later, on August 14, 2014 I was meeting with an attorney.
It was at a friends house.
I wasn't with any family.
We discussed the possibility of divorce and what that may look like.
I was so sad and confused.
I came home and cried myself to sleep.

I never would have guessed. 

Entering Wonderland 'Part Two' - and I lost everything.

So, there we were… my bishop – sitting in the corner of our living room in our oversized blue chair, my husband (Mr. Wonderful) – sitting on the couch, and me – sitting directly across from where my husband was sitting, anxiously waiting and curiously wondering what was going on. 

I knew something was “off”.  I didn’t know if it was a "good off" or a "bad off" but it just felt awkward.  There wasn’t much small talk or chit-chat… it was just strange. 

Then, Mr. Wonderful, without any sort of an introduction, pulled out a piece of paper… a letter that he wrote to me, a letter that he started reading to me.

And then… my life changed.

My world shifted.

I wasn’t safe.  I wasn’t safe.  I WASN'T SAFE.

I was scared.

As Mr. Wonderful read the letter, he revealed and confessed his sex addiction to me.  His confession consisted of years of viewing and lying about viewing pornography.  It also covered the general details of other women, strip clubs, lap dances, sexual chit-chat, adult bookstores (what the hell is an adult bookstore again?)… and so on. 

I remember listening in absolute unbelief.  Even as he was sitting there, with my bishop, confessing all the lies and manipulations and deceit and money and girls… I just didn’t couldn’t believe it.  It was like Mr. Wonderful was telling me a story about someone else, some other sad couple and their tragic relationship, not ours. 

Mr. Wonderful sobbed through the entire letter.  I sat there emotionless, across from him, nothing between us but our coffee table.  Occasionally I would glance over to the corner of the room where my bishop sat, silently listening… silently observing.

When Mr. Wonderful finished reading his letter there was silence.  I just sat there.  I sat there trying to wrap my head around this massive tsunami that just destroyed my reality, my reality turning to Wonderland.  I sat there trying to process the destruction.  Then I stood up. 

I stood up and in absolute shock I walked over to Mr. Wonderful and hugged him… (WHAT???  I know, I should have kicked him in his jewels but I didn’t, I hugged him) and I said to him, “Mr. Wonderful, I bet that was really hard for you to share with me, I appreciate you telling me.”  Then I grabbed my cell phone, looked over at the bishop and said to both of the men, “I need some fresh air”.  And just when I was about to escape that room, just as I reached for the doorknob, I heard Mr. Wonderful’s voice.  He said, “Alice, because you grabbed your cell phone, I feel like I should mention to you that”… (and here is where I instantly lost EVERYONE I EVER TRUSTED IN MY LIFE)… “I feel like I should mention that your dad, your mom, your sister and your therapist already know about my issues, and they have known for several years”. 

I listened to this. 

I stepped back from the front door and walked to the closest chair where I quietly and softly set my cell phone down before disappearing out the front door.

I didn’t need my phone anymore.

Who could I call?

Who could I trust?

Everyone, not just Mr. Wonderful, kept this life-altering secret from me for years.  They sided with the secret.  They sided with the addiction.  They sided with the addict.  My parents, my very own parents, chose Mr. Wonderful over me. 

I sat on my driveway holding my knees to my chest.  I sat there all alone in 119 degrees feeling cold and invisible.  So alone. 

I didn’t need my cell phone anymore.

Betrayal

Unexplainable pain and confusion.  "I thought you loved me" I said.  "We do" they answered… and they they lied. 

My week has been difficult.  I can't explain why and that's part of the difficulty.  There needs to be a reason why I struggle.  That's how my brain works.  If it doesn't make sense, I don't validate it.  I am working on this.  Sometimes I have a hard time, just because… lets see, why again?  Oh yeah… life is hard, my marriage is unstable, and I am so terribly terrified to trust anyone.  ANYONE.

I have been betrayed by so many secrets and so many supporters of these secrets.  People I loved lied to protect Mr. Wonderful.  My own blood, my own parents, my therapist, my sister… in an attempt to "protect me" they stood behind my husbands secrets and lies.  They weren't ignorant, they completely understood the situation… don't give them an out, they knew and they kept it from me.

This is a topic I haven't openly discussed because I truly love my parents, they are amazing.  I love my therapist, she knows how to reach me.  I love my sister… she's my SISTER.  My family is close.  We all get along for the most part.  We support each other, we love each other, we are functional, we communicate, we are a close family unit.  

My husband, Mr. Wonderful, shared his "pornography problems" with my family and then convinced these people, whom I love more than anything, to keep his lies and his secrets from me… and they did, for years, for 5 of the 6 years we were married my parents knew, I didn't.  I found out about Mr. Wonderful's sex addiction in 2007… and that same day Mr. Wonderful explained to me that my most trusted, most loved, most loyal, most faithful people in my life knew all about his addiction for 5 years, since 2002… we were married in 2001… I was told in 2007.  How could this have ever happened?  What could Mr. Wonderful have said to convince MY PEOPLE to turn on me?  "Turn on me", that term sound so extreme and so dramatic as I read it to myself, however, that is exactly what it feels like they did.  This makes me so sad.

It's been years, what bothers me is I found out in 2007 and it's 2013.  I am annoyed with myself because I feel as though I still haven't truly faced this part of my story and journey with Mr. Wonderful.  I am so hurt and so broken and I feel so unloveable and so weak because of this betrayal… I feel alone, lonely, unworthy… but I feel like it's all my fault… (and I admit, I say that with a lot of hesitation because I have been taught and told over and over again that it isn't my fault, but it still feels like it's my fault).  Please don't pour on the pity or the lectures, because I get it, I do, I just haven't been able to match my emotions with my knowledge.  And honestly, I can't blame myself too much.  When it seems as though the top 5 people in my life that I loved the most and trusted the most were all on the addicts side, well, it leaves a lot of room for self doubt.

And I am self doubting.

I mean, it's hard enough finding out that the love of my life had been betraying me and lying to me, this  made me doubt myself, made me feel crazy, made my reality turn into Wonderland, but   when "my people", "my top 5" jumped on board and supported Mr. Wonderful, well, that news may have been more devastating than the addiction confession.

This is why my week was hard.

I remember now.

I feel as though I have no one and I'm not sincerely motivated to reach out and find others that could help me… I mean, why should I give it another shot?  If my own family can stand by my cheating, lying, deceitful, manipulative, husband over me, than why should I believe that anyone truly would stand by my side and have my back?

Today I sign from a broken place, a hopeless place.
Today I feel as lost as I did back in 2007.
Today I feel alone.

Alice