What’s a Tuesday without spending over an hour on a boundaries worksheet for your cheating, lying ass, sex addict husband, huh?
If you sense my aggravation, you’d be right. The time is a small part of today, I know, but adding all the time together with the couples and individual therapy, discussions, my self-care efforts as a result of his 20+ years of lies and betrayals including some very new agey things, continued worry about my kids’ lives, stress induced state, and me contemplating my future five or 10 years out.
Like I said, FML.
I can’t even believe I have to write, “No personal relationships with women including, but not limited to: secret or personal contact through any form of communication, no offering your help or services of being A Great Guy, no having sex or any kind of emotional relationship with any other person besides your wife.” Along those lines is what I’ve been working on in-between some house work and phone calls. And this! “If you do any of these things here are the consequences (one or all of these things): move out of the bedroom, quit all reconciliation efforts, you move out of the house and we have a formal separation, I move to divorce immediately.”
This is so very fucked up. I think it’s fair to say I hate my fucking life right now.
The CSAT sent an email to both The Player and I after our last appointment and said maybe we should consider The Player going in for some appointments without me, which is basically what I said when we left last week. Fine by me. Very fine with me. In fact, over a week later and The Player hasn’t scheduled an appointment with him, unless he did it today while at work. Go work your shit out, mutherfucker.
Maybe he’d like to analyze why he can be empathetic when others wrong me but somehow can’t when he wrongs me. Maybe he’d like to analyze why he justified it was okay to fuck and have emotional relationships with dozens of women because it wasn’t “crossing the line” into our everyday life and he spent very little money on them (a lot was on expense account, except for that one trip, of course).
If you’re sensing my annoyance with today and the title of Sex Addict’s Wife, you would be absolutely right.
This is a mutherfucking miserable place to be. But hey! He’s in recovery and “we can do this.” Didn’t you know that?
So it’s been a bad day. We can’t have it all, right?
Oh wait. I think I’m clear on that now, I don’t need a gooddamn worksheet for that realization.