Eventually, my husband started drinking more. I noticed that when he drank, he didn't expect anything from me. Secretly, I started to like it when he drank. It was a relief for me not to have to worry about whether or not we'd have to 'do it.' It got to the point that he drank every night.
I'm so ashamed. My husband is the best thing that ever happened to me. He loves me unconditionally and would do anything in the world for me. I'm so blessed. And I was content to sit back and watch him become an alcoholic rather than address my own problems. It doesn't matter that I didn't realize the root of the problem until recent years. What matters is that I KNEW I had a problem and sacrificed his health and well being rather than address it.
And now we had another secret to protect - his alcoholism. Well, it isn't a secret from everybody. Some people know the extent of his alcoholism. Others don't have a clue. It doesn't interfere with his daily living. He's never let me or the kids down in any way. It doesn't interfere with his work or his responsibilities to his family. He's always dependable. But what is he doing to his health? He's killing himself. And he does it to escape the pain of lack of intimacy.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Letting Go of the Next Big Secret
So, it's the New Year. Time for New Beginnings. Time to let go of past mistakes and embrace whatever life has in store for me.
What I remember best about that day is the way my whole body tensed. I didn't like him touching me there. It felt wrong. It felt 'nasty'. But maybe it wasn't supposed to feel that way. Maybe my feelings didn't work right. Something might be wrong with me.
But I was 10. It was too complicated for me to understand and too personal and scary for me to share with someone who may have been able to help me understand. As years went by, I seemed to forget how my body tensed and how the whole thing felt so wrong and nasty. The only thing that seemed to stick with me was that there was something wrong with me - that I couldn't trust my feelings. I was no longer aware of where that lack of confidence was born. I mean, I didn't forget the incident. I just didn't connect my lack of confidence with it. Nor would I connect other issues. Not for years to come.
The first time my husband touched me - well, he wasn't my husband yet. But it didn't 'feel' right. Every muscle in my body tensed. I didn't connect that reaction to the reaction I had so long ago. It just felt wrong. Maybe I was just scared.
I was anxious and did not become aroused. The penetration hurt. I was sure I would 'get use to it' with practice. But I never did.
Even after we were married I never became aroused. I think because as soon as he touched me, I tensed with anticipation. I couldn't enjoy the moment for fear of the pain that was about to follow. After awhile, I was careful not to reach out and touch him in anyway. I was afraid he would take the gesture as an invitation and I certainly wasn't 'inviting' that. I would go along with him, if that's what he wanted but I wasn't going to instigate it.
Within the first year and 1/2 we had our first child. After 8 years, we had 3. Our family was complete. Our marriage was not. It was good. Probably stronger that most marriages. But it was not complete. A 'complete' marriage includes a healthy sexual life. We did not have that - because I was unable to participate in a healthy way.
Sex seems to be a big part of our society. Everyone is doing it. Everyone enjoys it.
Except me. Something is wrong with me.
This was not something I could share with anyone else. It was too embarrassing. My husband knew something was wrong with me. But he did not betray my secret. He protected me. It became 'our' secret. And it was a big one. It has been a very heavy secret to carry around. At least it has been for me. It was a secret I felt I had to guard at all costs.
But now it's out there - a little bit anyway. My therapist knows. She knows ALL my secrets. And now, I've finally found the courage to post it here. (Not that anybody I know, knows I have this blog!) It's funny how letting go of a secret makes you feel somewhat lighter. It's like I've been holding my breath for years and finally I can exhale a little bit. I don't think I ever realized how tense these secrets have made me feel.
What I remember best about that day is the way my whole body tensed. I didn't like him touching me there. It felt wrong. It felt 'nasty'. But maybe it wasn't supposed to feel that way. Maybe my feelings didn't work right. Something might be wrong with me.
But I was 10. It was too complicated for me to understand and too personal and scary for me to share with someone who may have been able to help me understand. As years went by, I seemed to forget how my body tensed and how the whole thing felt so wrong and nasty. The only thing that seemed to stick with me was that there was something wrong with me - that I couldn't trust my feelings. I was no longer aware of where that lack of confidence was born. I mean, I didn't forget the incident. I just didn't connect my lack of confidence with it. Nor would I connect other issues. Not for years to come.
The first time my husband touched me - well, he wasn't my husband yet. But it didn't 'feel' right. Every muscle in my body tensed. I didn't connect that reaction to the reaction I had so long ago. It just felt wrong. Maybe I was just scared.
I was anxious and did not become aroused. The penetration hurt. I was sure I would 'get use to it' with practice. But I never did.
Even after we were married I never became aroused. I think because as soon as he touched me, I tensed with anticipation. I couldn't enjoy the moment for fear of the pain that was about to follow. After awhile, I was careful not to reach out and touch him in anyway. I was afraid he would take the gesture as an invitation and I certainly wasn't 'inviting' that. I would go along with him, if that's what he wanted but I wasn't going to instigate it.
Within the first year and 1/2 we had our first child. After 8 years, we had 3. Our family was complete. Our marriage was not. It was good. Probably stronger that most marriages. But it was not complete. A 'complete' marriage includes a healthy sexual life. We did not have that - because I was unable to participate in a healthy way.
Sex seems to be a big part of our society. Everyone is doing it. Everyone enjoys it.
Except me. Something is wrong with me.
This was not something I could share with anyone else. It was too embarrassing. My husband knew something was wrong with me. But he did not betray my secret. He protected me. It became 'our' secret. And it was a big one. It has been a very heavy secret to carry around. At least it has been for me. It was a secret I felt I had to guard at all costs.
But now it's out there - a little bit anyway. My therapist knows. She knows ALL my secrets. And now, I've finally found the courage to post it here. (Not that anybody I know, knows I have this blog!) It's funny how letting go of a secret makes you feel somewhat lighter. It's like I've been holding my breath for years and finally I can exhale a little bit. I don't think I ever realized how tense these secrets have made me feel.
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