A few days ago I was looking for some paperwork I had carelessly tossed somewhere at some point probably as much as two years ago, and in that process I opened the upper left hand drawer of my desk. Inside that drawer is a desperate and depraved accounting of the first few months of my life after discovery day. In that drawer were stacks of pamphlets and handouts given to us by numerous therapists on the subject of sex addiction. Also in that drawer are note pads chronicling my agony, love notes and cards from Blue Eyes proclaiming his undying love for me post discovery, my own scribbled notes about the other woman and lists and lists of dates they were together, places they traveled to together. The pages are crinkly with dried tears. There is a two page typed letter to Blue Eyes explaining to him that I cannot heal with him, that I don’t believe I will be able to live with a recovering sex addict. I wrote that it was just too painful.
And, handwritten, no date, there was this…
Was I aware when I freed my eyes from the heavy blanket of my lids,
or at a point preceding it, a dark, blank empty space filling my conscious mind.
Did I roll away from him, or towards him at this point, this moment when the world
meant nothing, time did not exist, I floated in a space free of pain, for a split second.
At the juncture between past and present, when I fully realized things were changed, and they could never be the same, why was fear the foremost emotion exhibited?
At the moment of impact all those months ago, I doubled over in pain, the pain of betrayal, of realizing the one person I knew in the deepest recesses of my heart, I knew, I knew he would never hurt me… when I realized he had done the unthinkable, a part of my soul died, but there was no space allowed for fear, only wracking sobs and tortured images, blood dripping from self inflicted wounds, if only I could release the poison.
Fear would come. At the moment of awakening, I collapsed in agony from a deep dread that overwhelmed me.
Was my terror based on the not knowing what my future held.
Was the mounting agony crippling the very foundation of my soul in fact spurned by the knowledge that I had given something over to someone who didn’t deserve it, and that was my complete and utter failure. I had given my trust to a master of deception, a broken down little boy who had never walked upright in the conscience of a man, but I wholly blamed myself. Was my fear that I had married a boy who would never grow.
Was I indeed mired in thoughts of not being able to live without this boy, the boy that I had fashioned a man for so many years. Was I betrayed by my own mind.
As the days in my new existence mounted, I started drowning in the reality that I had no more expectations. I was unable to reconcile the past with the present. I was living a lie inside myself. I desperately wanted to continue to share my world with that man, the man who did not exist.
Time has begun to heal the wounds, but I will never be the same.
I have awakened to the fact that things will never be the same, I can never go back, but I can go forward.
As I read my own writing, I realized, my heart is broken. I will never fully heal from that broken heart. I move forward knowing that a broken heart does not a broken spirit make. I have a strong soul and it is heaped in goodness, love, honesty and a burning desire to be kind to myself and others. I am free of the fear I once held so tenuously close to my sanity. I don’t fear for my future, I embrace it.
This post is dedicated to all my blogger friends. Thank you so much for being with me on this journey. ❤