Meet Knave of Hearts

I don't know what to do about my son, Knave. I am learning to let go and to surrender but there is this line, this fine line because I am still responsible to keep my other two children safe. I feel like there is a good chance that Knave may end up accidentally exposing them to pornography and I feel like it is my duty to keep that from happening. So, where to I let go and where do I protect? What does this look like? Do I keep the internet shut down when I am away from home to keep this from happening or is that controlling? I feel like I am gaging uncharted territory as a mother going through this addiction with her son... it is VERY different than going through it with my husband. I am less angry and more concerned. I am more about mercy and less about justice. It is definitely different. Still, I feel some responsibility for my son’s addiction and I felt responsibility for my husband’s addiction. 

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.

Valentines in Wonderland

Valentine's Day today was great. Mr. Wonderful is triggered by everything. 

Last night we watched “The Heart of the Matter" and this morning he confessed to being triggered. 

I am grateful for his transparency but I'm also exhausted with this life. 

I just feel like nothing is ever going to be completely safe.

Breathing

I swore I would NEVER have another separation in my life... EVER.  I swore that the 8 month separation back in 2010 would be the only time Mr. Wonderful and I would have to sit down with our wide-eyed carefree kids and explain to them that their parents need space to breath think.  And in order for that to happen, the man they adore and love, their dad (Mr. Wonderful) would have to move out.

In 2010 when reconciling after our separation I remember telling Mr. Wonderful, "this is it, if we can't make this work we are divorcing because I don't believe in separating for convenience and confusing our kids"... and now, well...

Mr. Wonderful moved out on Monday.  I asked him to.  He was cordial and somewhat understanding.
He knows that he has hurt me on a indescribable level.  He gets that.  He doesn't think he can help it so he wishes I was just strong enough to understand when he tells me he resents me for not being "the hottest" but he understands how that stabs me so hard that I feel like I am dying inside hurts me a little.

So, we are breathing.
I am breathing.

Or maybe I will start breathing in a few days or weeks because right now I'm finding it pretty difficult to breath.

Mr. Wonderful, why? why?? WHY??? can't you love me?

WHY?  
Just love me.  
Just let me be enough. 
or just get some courage and confidence Alice and stop caring if he loves you or not...

engulfed

Today I 

am: 

         Exhausted 
         Defeated
         Hopeless
         Hurting
         Confused 
         Sad
         Angry
         Lonely 
         Ugly
         Empty 
         Scared

                          

Today I am engulfed in WONDERLAND. 

                                                              Today I am just going to survive... or try to. 

Bothered

I have a difficult time trusting myself and my instincts.  After Mr. Wonderful dropped the mother bomb on my back in 2007 I have tried to stay grounded, I have tried to be insightful, I have tried to be sensitive to my feelings and emotions, I have tried to be in-tune.  However, I find it hard to know if the spirit is telling me something or if it's my fear or paranoia.  This has been a constant struggle for me and what's sad about it is that sometimes, Mr. Wonderful has used my doubt and capitalized on it.

The truth is, I had NO IDEA about Mr. Wonderful's addiction until he told me.  The truth is I had NO INTUITION about the secrets and lies.  The truth is I was the LAST to realize what my life REALLY was.

So, trusting myself doesn't come easy.

I doubt my thoughts, feelings, choices, boundaries, etc… so much.

With this said, the other night Mr. Wonderful and I were talking… wait -- wait -- wait, first I should say that Mr. Wonderful is actively and proactively working his recovery.  He really started kicking things in gear 6 months ago.  I have seen actually changes that, before this last year, have only manifested in words, not deeds.  Mr. Wonderful truly is trying and fighting harder now than he ever has.  Okay, now I can go on…

The other night Mr. Wonderful and I were talking.  He was telling me about his progress.  He shared that he is still tempted to look at other women but 9 times out of 10 he pushes the thought away and doesn't give in to the temptation.  This bothered me.  This is where I need help from you guys reading this, if anyone is reading this… please, if you are reading this help me!  I told Mr. Wonderful that I don't feel that it is fair to me to have share a bed with a man who 1 time out of 10 gives in to a temptation of looking in a lustful way at another woman.

Okay, so is this too much?  Is my request or my expectations even reasonable?

I feel like the world says men are men, they are going to look.  Can they even help it?

Also, I don't know why this bothers me so bad.  My husband has been diagnosed with a "sex" addiction.  He attends SAA meetings.  On the invisible scale of sex and pornography Mr. Wonderful has ventured far FAR further than checking out girls every once in a while.  So why does this bother me so much?

It bothers me that it bothers me.

I hate that I feel like I'm being too hard on him.  When I look at it I wish I felt grateful.  I mean, I AM grateful that he's not at the strip clubs, I am happy that he isn't getting lap dances or flirting or talking sexual with those ladies.  I am grateful that he isn't visiting adult bookstores or spending our money on girls and sexual things… because he has done that, ALL that, before.

So, why am I so bothered by the 1 out of 10 girls thing?  On the invisible scale of what my husband has done from WAY awful to WAY great, shouldn't dismissing the temptation 9 out of 10 times be something I celebrate?

But I'm not celebrating.

And the last 2 nights, ever sense that talk that Mr. Wonderful and I had, I have been sleeping in my bed alone.  Mr. Wonderful is wondering if I intend to keep him out of my bed until he can promise me that he NEVER looks at another women again.

I told him that I'm not sure.

And I'm not.

***Please, please, PLEASE leave your comments or your input here.  This is one of those posts that I truly am asking for some insight***

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.

Entering Wonderland 'Part One'

It was 119 degrees and I remember laughing, literally laughing, at how hot it felt outside.  It was July 4^th, 2007 and it was our first summer in the blazing heat of Arizona.  My family (Mr. Wonderful, our 2 boys, and I) had been in this new and exciting place for a short 5 months.

When Mr. Wonderful was offered a promising job in Arizona I was excited.  I was ready and fearless and confident and ambitiously ready to take on the world.  And so, we moved. 

It was the first time Mr. Wonderful and I weren’t living within 5 miles of at least 20 of our relatives; his parents, my parents, his siblings, my siblings, my grandparents and cousins and aunts and uncles, etc.  But we were thriving in our new life.  We loved our neighborhood.  We loved our ward.  We loved the people we were meeting and the friends we were making.  I loved how strong our marriage was growing because, for the first time, we were forced to rely on each other completely.  We were communicating with ease and supporting each other in ways our extended family normally would.  We were each other’s everything… and more. 

I was happy.  I loved the sunshine.  I felt like, not only was it 119 degrees outside in July, while my little family sat on the asphalt waiting for the fireworks to start, but it also felt like it was 119 degrees inside my own heart and soul.  I was just.that.happy.

When the doorbell rang in the evening of July 5, 2007 I answered it without a thought.  The kids were in bed, the dishes were done, the evening had arrived and I wondered who was stopping by for a visit.  When I opened the door a familiar face in a suit stood on my front porch.  I struggled trying to remember exactly who this man was.  I knew he was a member of my bishopric, but I wasn’t sure if he actually was my bishop!  In an attempt to hide my confusion from him, I smiled curiously.  I remember thinking it felt a bit strange when he pushed his way through my front door without me announcing that my husband was home first (normally, in my church, a man won’t barge in {or even enter} a home without first knowing that another man is home).  Just as I was thinking how strange this was, Mr. Wonderful bounced around the corner welcoming our BISHOP into our home.

“Hello bishop” I said, in a way that would make anyone believe that all along I knew he was my bishop.  The bishop shook my hand nervously and took a seat in our big blue chair.  I joined as Mr. Wonderful awkwardly sat on our couch…

…and here is where my life changed forever.

…and here is where things get very blurry.