Okay, so not a good start.

Okay, so not a good start.


So I am a bad blogger. I did the unthinkable. I started a blog, yes two years ago, wrote my first post and fear gripped my heart. I couldn’t post it. Not because it wasn’t how I felt, but because I was afraid of what the world wide web would think. I don’t know what I am doing. I can barely figure this thing out. It’s a miracle I got this far and let’s be frank….the subject matter is depressing and deeply personal. However, here I am again at the precipice of trying to navigate the world of blogging. Reader, I write for you and for me. Simply to have you know you are not alone, and for me to not go all Lorena Bobbit. I beg your grace.

Let me start by saying, two years ago I thought I was okay. I really thought that despite his lack of recovery….I was in a good place. I thought, hey he’s not dead. He still has his man parts, and that is a good day any day when dealing with this crazy train. I even thought I was prepared to really tell you how I got there. Looking back, man was I dead wrong. Perhaps a part of me knew that, and that is why I never had the nerve to publish that first post. P.S. I did finally post it earlier today. Last thing I want to seem is phony. So here it is, you get me being real and often raw. Spelling and grammar mistakes, and truth. Nothing glossy or poetic…as I think I attempted back then. Just the real deal.

Back to the Begining

I have known about this damned addiction of his  10 1/2 years. Yep, that long. We have been married for just over 12 1/2 years. I knew something was up when we got married, but never in my wildest dreams thought it would be porn addiction. Really I just thought he was a bit of a man-child that needed a little extra hand holding. Truth be told, I was madly in love-still am. I was willing to overlook a few things, especially when I was bringing my own complicated baggage to the party as well. So when I had my first discovery day…forever known as D-Day, my world shattered. It broke into tiny little pieces, scattered about on the ground, stomped on, and placed in a bag to be all shook up. Then it was handed back to me to make sense of it all and to be put back together with out a picture of what my new normal should look like. Doing all of this while not telling a soul of my secret pain and shame, and somehow pretend that I was all right. Does any of this sound familiar?  I have this mind image of some poor old woman, who looks a lot like Alice in the Brady Bunch sweeping up the pieces of my life while Marsha, Jan & Cindy are smiling completely oblivious to the ruin around them. I will write more about that fateful day in another post, but for now know it was the first time I couldn’t breathe.

My baggage was a failed marriage that brought into the world amazing three children. That marriage ended because of pornography/sex addiction, and the mess it made of our life. Because my kids may someday read this, I will under no circumstances discuss the horror I lived with and through while married to him. I want them to know their dad for he is to them, not to me. But let’s just say, the last 10 1/2 years are still preferable to the 5 years I was married to my ex. However as a result I had a strict rule, and was very vocal prior to my second marriage that porn WAS NOT going to be welcome in my home.

I cannot even begin to describe the pain, the betrayal, the disheartening sinking feeling. By rights, he is lucky I stuck it out after that. But alas…we begin. I am really on the path to actual healing. He, supposedly is taking recovery seriously and getting started. I could write a whole lot more, but it seems it will be better if I save it for future posts.