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Monday, March 11, 2013

D-Day, part 2


“Yes, I’ve used pornography.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, but as soon as H (Husband) said it all the puzzle pieces began to drop into place.  Everything I had been reading about sexual dysfunction – erectile issues, “low” libido, and the changes in our lovemaking – how sex just felt different, foreign…  it all made sense in that awful moment of clarity, in that godawful admission.
Seconds passed.  Swallowing the bile rising in my throat, I began to ask questions.  When did you start, how long have you been doing it, do you realize that I consider this adultery?  And more.  He was evasive, I could tell.  Different answers to repeated questions.  Claiming forgetfulness.  And then he got defensive.  ”Don’t talk to me in that tone of voice.  You’re making me feel like I’m under attack,” he said.  I told him, “I am not attacking you, I am trying to find out what’s been going on, and I have not raised my voice.  I’m just trying to get some answers.”
Slowly I began to put it together, though it would be days before a more accurate picture developed.  He had begun masturbating approximately 6 years ago and the porn use came about a year after that.  He had been using porn with masturbation 3-4 times a week for over 5 years.
My mind began screaming…
  • Why???
  • Why did you do it?
  • What about US?
  • Why did you take yourself away from me?
  • How did I miss it?
  • How could you live such a double life?
Then I asked him when the last time was that he had used porn/masturbated.  He said, “Today.”
More screaming in my head…
  • OMG!  While I was at my friend’s house?
  • While I’m praying and seeking God you’re looking at porn and jerking off?
  • We are trying to repair our marriage and you’re compromising it?
  • You’re telling me you can’t keep up with my sexual demands but you’re masturbating?
  • You turned me away for that?
We had a scheduled counseling appointment that week, and H agreed to tell.  We were supposed to go in separately, for two appointments.  When it was my turn, the counselor said, so he told you about the porn… how do you feel?
“It’s pretty devastating.”  He told me that H mentioned he had been looking at porn occasionally and felt bad about it.  But…
The more I said, the more concerned he got, and at one point he interrupted me to say that H hadn’t given him a clear picture of his porn use.  From what I described (I told him what H had admitted to me) he felt H may have an addiction issue.  He asked if he could call him back in.  He did tell me that he advised H to get internet accountability software installed and that H agreed to it.  He then called H back in and we talked together.  The counselor told H that he strongly advises he undergo intensive therapy at Bethesda Workshop.  That unless he did, our counseling with him would not go anywhere.  The three of us talked for the rest of the appointment about it.
H and I were both getting really scared.  I think it was finally dawning on us that this was bigger than us – that he is an addict.  That it wasn’t something that he could just stop.  That we really needed help…

1 comment:

  1. Thank you for sharing your story, even though it is painful. The part that is sticking out to me today is the minimization that H used when he talked to the counselor and then the more concerned the counselor got as he recognize the extent.

    I am especially interested in this line: "That unless he did, our counseling with him would not go anywhere."

    This gives me a lot to think about in my own situation. My husband and I are counseling together with our religious leader. It's helpful simply because there are other issues between us that can be helped. But I know it won't "cure" or really address the addiction side of things.

    My husband was a lot like yours in that he was always turning me away sexually. It seems like a lot of other women had to deal with the opposite spectrum where their husbands demanded it all of the time. It's nice to know I am not alone, though I am sorry you have had to experience it.

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