Why Am I Still Here?

For someone who spent a good chunk of her life avoiding emotions, I sure spend a lot of time reflecting these days. Who woulda thunk it? Definitely not me.

As I look back over the last couple of years, I wonder why I didn’t leave sooner.

Had I drifted into denial again, or was it something deeper?

Looking back, I think several things were happening at the time.

I was emotionally sober. Almost like that was enough for me. I had a safe space in my home that was my happy place. I had, well, still have, an amazing job that works around my migraines, and I love doing my healing and recovery work. Plus, well, Dobermans, fish, and birds. We can’t forget about them.

However, being emotionally sober didn’t mean I couldn’t take a few steps back and look at what I wanted for my life overall.

It’s like sitting in the front seat at the movies. Yeah, you’re super close to the screen, but can you see the whole picture? Are you comfortable, or are you settling while your neck screams in pain?

I think I was starting to settle. Accepting things that I shouldn’t be accepting because he’d been sober for such a long time.

But stepping back a few rows allowed me to see more of the screen. I noticed unhealthy things pop up. Overeating. Okay, not the worst of the worst, right? But when someone lies about it, that’s when it becomes uncomfortable. Especially when lying is our history, and so is being gaslit. I didn’t like that, and when I raised it, they brushed off my concerns. Like they didn’t matter.

So why did I keep staying?

I remember something my daughter’s father said to me when he met my ex: “You’ll never leave this guy. He’s got all the bennies.” Meaning benefits.

Was that what was holding me back?

No. I’d been single before. Owned my own home. Had my own insurance. I didn’t need anyone for that. I was quite capable…right?

Right??

Another healthy hobby had gotten progressively unhealthy. Gaming.

Board games. Warhammer, MTG, and so many others. He spent hours upon hours scrolling endlessly, looking at cards. Buying cards. Going to hobby stores. Buying Lego. Buying board games. Buying video games. Getting in on Kickstarter, etc.

But not playing them.

Thousands of dollars spent on things that collected dust on shelves in his game room.

The click of the mouse when he clicked away from eBay was just as triggering as the clicks when he clicked out of porn.

And still I stayed.

Maybe I was still sitting too close to the screen.

There was also something else.

Hope.

I’d seen him be his best self.

After the second disclosure, I watched him flourish in recovery. He had done such a 180, and it was beautiful to see. He was empathetic, considerate, emotionally sober, just all the things.

To see his recovery slowly slip away over time was challenging. A small part of me wanted to shake him out of it, “Get your shit together, man!” But of course, I know from my own experience (and trying to do that with him…and, oh, every other partner I had) recovery doesn’t work that way.

We talked about it because that was our agreement. You know, “Hey, if I see you on a slippery slope, we’ll have a chat, cool?”

“Cool.”

But when it came up, it wasn’t so cool after all.

It was, in fact, uncool.

I stayed a bit longer. But not much.

I moved a few rows back. The picture on the screen was coming into better focus.

I think the biggest thing that kept me there was that I’d gotten myself into financial debt. A lot of it.

Whether it was pride, trauma, stubbornness, guilt, shame, embarrassment, or a mixture of those things, I didn’t let anyone know how much I was struggling financially.

Well, almost anyone. He knew.

After a talk with my son and then his wife, I realized how much damage my ex caused my children.

I was devastated. Crushed.

No words can express how much my heart hurt.

There’s something to be said for death by a thousand cuts. I get that now.

After each disclosure, it was like pulling teeth to get the truth from him. My second disclosure took a week to find out everything.

Each truth was another cut. A little piece of dying each time.

As I learned about how deeply my children- and they’re mine, not his- were affected by having him as a stepdad, each cut stung more than the last.

His reaction to their pain?

No accountability. None.

That was it. I was done. I knew I had to leave.

I finally saw the full screen.

When I asked for the separation, during some of our talks, I mentioned his emotional sobriety and our financial inequity, and he asked why I never said anything.

Not gonna lie. I wasn’t very polite about it. It’s one of those topics that can go two ways depending on who I’m talking to:

My kids = instant tears/fighting back tears

Him = instant anger/flabbergasted

This time I was angry.

And he knew it. “How many times did I say, ‘I can’t get groceries until I get paid’? Or ask you to transfer money into my account so I could get food? Or…tell you directly that I have no money in my savings account because I had to pay for the car repair, or the grocery bill was high, or my credit cards were maxed out? Then you took the money your mom gave us, that you only told me about because she asked me about it, and paid down your credit card debt! Just like when you refinanced. Seriously. What. The. Fuck?”

Now that I have the comfy seats in the back of the theater and can see the whole screen, I realize something important: the pain I went through is okay. I mean, it’s not great, but it’s okay.

My twenty-year marriage wasn’t all thorns and bristles. We shared good memories, and I learned a lot about myself along the way. Especially that I can use a movie theater analogy and not get triggered. (He acted out in one and it used to trigger me…not anymore, beeotch!)

Let’s Stay Connected

If this resonates with you, I’d really love to know. You can comment below or email me. You’re also invited to join other Bookenders on Reddit.

And if you’re looking for deeper exercises, I wrote Bookends of Recovery & Healing Workbook to help you heal from betrayal trauma and addiction by using creative exercises, action tools, and guided reflection.

Warmly,
Laura 🌻