v. shattered, shat-ter-ing, shatters
1. To cause to break or burst suddenly into pieces, as with a violent blow.
a. To damage seriously; disable
b. To cause the destruction or ruin of; destroy

To Cause to Break

We had been married less than one year before all of my hopes for the future were ripped away from me. Less than 10 months after I was married, I caught the love of my life with someone else. I did not know then, as I know now, that his affair was simply a symptom of the broader, secret addiction haunting his life.

I tell myself now that I was naive. I should have known that our love was too easy, that we were always meant to say goodbye, that we should have argued more. I keep lists of everything that I would do over if I could. I would erase his existence from my life except for the single fact that the pain he caused me led me to seek relief and release in a long forgotten dream.

Never having lived with anyone other than a roommate, I let myself believe that the growing tension and distance was part of the adjustment of living together for the first time as a married couple. I LET myself BELIEVE. That is the key. Somewhere I have to blame myself for what I didn’t know, what I could not foresee, and that was my role as enabler of his addiction. Like a moth to the flame the addict seeks out the enabler. The chemistry was overwhelming. I had no idea what I was. I enabled all of his lies, his lifestyle, his betrayal, by my willing acceptance to take him at his word, love him unconditionally, and support him for better or worse.

By the time we were married 6 months, he had already turned our lives into a ritual of making me feel guilty about something. Not enough sex, too much sex, not the right kind of sex, didn’t do the laundry, didn’t do the dishes, he’s too fat, I’m too fat, I’m tired, he’s tired, I was diagnosed with a lifelong illness, he was needing a new job. It was my fault that he didn’t want to kiss me because God forbid I ask him to brush his teeth first which he considered was only important when going to work.

I was working too many hours (which might happen when you have over 50 buildings under construction simultaneously), not having enough fun, not doing this or that, perpetually chasing the list of things I didn’t get right in his eyes the day before, and I didn’t even know it. I took care of his dog, my dog, built the fence in the yard for the dogs while he spent the summer weekends partying on his boat, and making me feel guilty for not partying while simultaneously making me feel guilty that he felt guilty that I was building a fence by myself.

I see it clearly now.

I was already broken before I caught him cheating. He had manipulated me from day one, molded me into an extension of his addiction, and ultimately used marriage to me as a mask of normalcy under which he could hide his dirty secrets from the world, from me, but most importantly, from himself.

Shakespeare wrote “There is special providence in the fall of a sparrow.” Can a winged creature actually fall when under divine influence? Seriously? For me it was more like a whack followed by a downward rush and a thud at rock bottom, but then again I have never considered myself graceful.

Now I get up. I feed the dog, the horses, and myself in that order, every day.
I go to work.
I come home. I feed the dog, the horses, and myself, in that order, every day. Every day I hope tomorrow will be better because something has got to give, right?
I try to sleep which technically should be easy for me since I have narcolepsy, but almost every night the nightmare comes. It is always the same.

I receive a phone call from him saying he is too drunk to drive home so he is going to drive to the boat and stay there. Logically, because I am mostly a rational human being, I wonder why would my husband go sleep on the boat in the middle of the work week because he is “too drunk” to drive home when the boat is the same distance from where he supposedly was calling from to our house? I oscillate between guilt about whether he will make it there safe and sound, anger that he is driving anywhere at all instead of taking a cab, and gut instinct telling me there is something doesn’t add up.
Fast forward-1 am at the boat. I have confirmed that his car is in the parking lot. Of course I don’t have the fancy ID card necessary to get through the locked entrance (which I now secretly suspect the sole reason for only providing one key with moorage is to keep wives from checking up on their husbands). I turn around to go home, having assured myself that he is alive, and then notice not one, but apparently two shadows backlit behind the curtains of the boat?
Fast forward -skipping the decision to go look, the not-so catholic school girl way of getting in through the locked gate, and I am on the dock beside the boat.

Clearly there are two people in our boat.
Clearly they are not at opposite ends of the boat.
Clearly they are a little too close together; in fact they seem to have become one shadow all of a sudden.
Fast forward -I am inside the boat. He is naked. She is also naked. The “Vindicator” stinks of betrayal, alcohol and sex, and he is getting himself “ready” for another round by masturbating. She looks like me, only younger, MUCH younger. I say “Thanks a lot for doing this” or something equally non-offensive because I am always, without fail, polite: sickeningly polite and too proud to yell and scream while there are two naked people in front of me, one of whom is the man who stood at the altar 10 months earlier and professed to love me, ONLY me, for all time.
He looks at me. “Sorry”. Naked person number 2 looks clearly surprised that there is a “wife”. I see that his apology comes from his lips but it fails to reach his eyes.
He makes no move towards me.
He does not come after me as I turn around and run out. For all he knows I have fallen off the
boat in my haste to get on the dock. By the way, it is a LOT easier getting out of the locked
entrance than in.
He does not come after me to see that I made it home safe and sound while driving without
being able to see because of the torrential rainstorm that has become my eyes.
He does not know that once I steered the car towards the side rail of the bridge.
He does not know that once I aimed it towards the telephone pole.
He does not know that the only thing that kept me from erasing the blinding pain of his betrayal
was my duty towards the two canines in the back seat. I would never do that to our “babies.”

And then it repeats – the cause – followed by the white hot pain of the break…over and over as I scream silently all night long. There is no comfort. There is no solace. Only pain over and over like I’m stuck on a merry-go round and I keep yelling…”I’d like to get off now, PLEASE”. Hell, I am even polite in my nightmares. I usually wake up sweating. After that, I can sleep.

Burst Suddenly Into Pieces

It is odd how breaking apart into a million pieces at once is really an exaggerated way of saying someone has “disappeared”. Poof! It is sudden, brutal, and graphic. The fragments of body, mind, and spirit, in their weakened state, are not strong enough to brace against the downward spiral. They disappear into the black hole called “Who You Were”.

Recovering from an affair is technically possible, or so I was told. WE went to marital counseling for HIS affair. At that point I remember the lady saying she thought my husband might have a sexual addiction. Not really being given a definition, I assumed that meant someone addicted to sex. He did not see it as such and refused to see a sexual addiction counselor after a few attempts because the counselor “made him say dirty words” that made him feel uncomfortable. ” UNCOMFORTABLE?” I would say. “Imagine how comfortable I felt watching your naked body with someone else. Cry me a river.” Meanwhile, back at the farm, I was gone, incapable of making complex decisions, not knowing whether to stay or to go, only knowing that I didn’t know enough to make a decision.

I got up. I fed the dogs, then myself, in that order, every day. I went to work. I liked coffee and dogs. I tolerated my job and held all the pain inside as now there were 75 buildings under construction simultaneously and I couldn’t afford to fail at that too. I went to counseling sometimes after work but realized that he needed a lot of counseling just to get to the point where his affair was not my fault. I fed the dogs, ate dinner with him, and went to bed early so that I would have enough time to have the nightmare AND still get 8 hours of sleep afterward. I would not, could not touch him. If I could, I would have grabbed a blanket, a baby bottle, and curled up in the fetal position for eternity.

When the pieces of you are scattered about in so many pieces that it is impossible to put them back together, it is not hard to figure out why Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall. He was married to a sex addict! All the King’s horses and all the King’s men couldn’t put my heart together again.

I was ashamed to go out with his friends because they didn’t know what he had done, and ashamed to go out with mine because they did know what he had done and were not comfortable in his presence. The black hole called “who you were” had taken everything.

It took my smile.
It took my laugh
It took my voice.
It took my friends.
It took my opinions.
It took my empathy.
It took my sympathy.
It took my joy.
It took my ability to trust.
It took my music.
It took my reason for living.

And then it got worse.

Like a hunter I tracked down the evidence of betrayal and found no less than 3 times of infidelity within the first year of our marriage. Each time the evidence was presented to him, he would 1) try to lie 2) admit it and then 3) blame some fault in our relationship for it.

I shattered again, and then it got better.

My husband, in his infinite wisdom about how what he had done was clearly the result of me not being happy with my life, asked me what I wanted the most. I remembered every year an item on my Christmas list that I had never received – a horse. He convinced me that I should do what makes me happy which would therefore make him happy and our marriage would go on the “happy track”. If soul mates came in horses, she would be it; flame red with black points, smart beyond belief, innocent, untouched, willing, proud, and beautiful. She saved me. She took the black hole that was “Who You Were” and patched pinholes one at a time with unconditional love until it felt like I could finally breathe again without losing all of my oxygen through the cracks.

I got up. I fed the dogs and myself in that order, every day. I went to work. I went to the barn. Horses don’t lie. They either do something, or they don’t. They don’t TELL you they did something when they didn’t. It is a beautiful thing really.

Over the next year there were smaller missteps but I did not catch him cheating. While on a business trip for a month, there were charges on the bank statement that belonged to a strip club. He had lied about where he was at the time. I was furious. I asked him how I was supposed to build trust if he lied. He apologized and promised to do better. Another time, while he was out drinking with buddies, he called to invite me out. I said no, predictably. Again, the charges on the bank card didn’t coincide with where he said he had been. Again, confronting him just led to lies until eventually he would admit that he and his friends had gone to several places that evening. This became a habit. He would tell half-truths about his whereabouts in an effort to not get me suspicious. This would result in an argument over money being spent bar-hopping when he was 39 years old which then would be turned against me as an argument over the cost of a horse. He became jealous of my unconditional love for a horse and my overwhelming clarity that I knew where I wanted to go and what I wanted to do. Again, everything was my fault. The weight I carried in guilt equaled 30 extra pounds by this point.

So I got up. I fed the dogs, and the horses, then myself in that order, every day. He never helped with the exception of helping himself to a drink and watching me work. I went to work, came home, fed the dogs, and the horses, and went to sleep to await the nightmare praying for relief.

And then it got worse.

He was laid off. The last thing a sex addict needs is loads of spare time and a computer. He became verbally abusive in his quest to blame me for everything. He spent his two months off of work “at the gym” although never lost a pound. He walked around saying “WE” were laid off because he was, even though I was working full time and running a horse boarding, breeding, and lesson business on the side without any help from him. He took the first job offer that came and moved out of state without as much as a backward glance.

And then it got better.

I discovered while he was gone that I did not miss him. I did not miss being blamed for everything. I did not love him. I did not trust him in a long distance marriage. I could not control him and it wasn’t my job to keep him on the straight and narrow. I WAS strong enough to do what was best for us both. I asked him for a divorce.

And then it got worse.

Having a sexual addiction and being obsessive enough to write lists about everything is somewhat of a hazard to one’s health. Since he had left all of the paperwork with me, I set myself to the task of finding the records of debt and asset prior to marriage for both. He obviously had no interest in moving the divorce forward because I am the “walker” and he is the “talker” and who wouldn’t want a wife who takes care of everything even reminding you when to brush your teeth? The results of my search shattered me again and again and again.

1) Records of prostitutes

2) Records of multiple porn subscriptions

3) Records of Single’s ads

4) Records of large withdrawals of cash followed by mortgage and boat payments bouncing up until the point where we combined our finances into a joint checking account at which point he could no longer randomly withdraw $400 to pay for his addiction without me noticing.

5) Records of Pay day loans taken out to cover the fact that huge sums of money were being withdrawn for these things

6) Records of STD testing, sores in places the sun doesn’t shine, and HIV counseling. This made me almost throw up and sent me straight to the clinic for another round of testing to see if he left me any parting “gifts”.

I am thankful that I decided to get a divorce, as painful as it has been. Without that single decision, I never would have known the extent of his problem. We never had a chance and I see that now. The records of this behavior date back to before I even met him, only he never cared to disclose it. How could a marriage possibly work when one person is honest and the other has a life made up of lies intricately woven into a shroud of normalcy? He simply would have lied and lied and hurt me and hurt me until one day giving me something that would kill me.

He has never admitted his problem. He likely never will. He will simply find another victim to take advantage of. There is an addict on the prowl for an enabler now – to him it is called ‘Operation Look Good’. I found those records too – the plans of how to lose weight, dye his hair, fake tan, etc.

To Cause the Destruction or Ruin

As I look around the wreckage of what once was my life, it is difficult to distinguish the pieces of me from the tiny pieces of dirt that the dog tracked in. If I look closely, I can recognize the ones that are still bleeding from the gaping hole in my heart. To say that he ruined my life is an understatement. He erased 6 years of what I thought I knew to be true. Everything was a lie. He made me a liar about OUR life. He lied to his parents. He lied to my parents and my father on his deathbed. All of this was done to protect what was most important to him – his addiction to sexual fantasy.

Now I get up.

I feed the dog he left behind, the horses, and myself in that order, every day.

I go to work. I bite my tongue from the pain of trying to hold it all together because I need the money since my husband’s “secret”, “other”, “real?” life took every dime “we” had and has left me financially, spiritually, and emotionally bankrupt.

I come home. I feed the dog, the horses, then myself, in that order, every day.

I go to bed every night hoping that tonight the nightmare will stop and that the black hole called “who I was” will release me from this living nightmare so that I can wake up assured of “all I will be“.


Visits: 2

23 Responses

  1. Oh Brenda,

    What a horrific nightmare you have had to endure. I am so sorry that this master-monster came into your life and took your very soul to use for himself since he has none.

    He is a sociopathical predator and very very sick.

    He really needs to be in prison. He’s not only a sex addict. He’s a SEX OFFENDER!!!

    He needs to be put behind bars where he can never hurt another woman ever again. At least, that’s what I think.

    I just had a thought and of course, its just an idea and certainly nothing you have to do… But one day soon, how about this? Just get really crazy, 🙂 and let the dog and the horses sleep in a bit longer and feed yourself first. You are so precious and beautiful and they will understand and not only will they understand, they will expect it.

    You are not alone.

    ((((((((hugs))))))))) and love,


  2. Dearest Brenda,
    It will take hard work, but it will be worth it. Each day you are investing in yourself—your own life, because you took it back from someone who didn’t have the capacity to value it.

    YOu have already taken huge steps. Give yourself a pat on the back. I hope you find a really good therapist to help you see your own greatness and create your own ‘safe place’.

    From my experience, there will be waves of overwhelming rage alternating with terrible grief, then a little hope appears, and soon you will begin to recognize yourself again. It’s a bittersweet joy that meets you then, as you realize you were missing in action for a long time. But the lost is found. And you have many great years to live with beauty, laughter and love.

    Keep going. Don’t look back. Trust yourself.

    lots of hugs,

  3. Brenda,
    My heart hurts for you. Perhaps he gave you the best gift you could ever receieve from him and that was the gift of leaving. Though he left you in financial and emotional ruin, you will get through this. He will not. I hope you find peace and serenity in your life now. I can relate to your life in a way as my days are also spent taking care of one horse, two miniature donkeys, two dogs, and now a barn kitty that has recently showed up with three precious little kittens. These animals ARE my family and my life. Though they don’t say much, their silence is the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard. If I’m not on time with my daily visits they will call for me and it’s then that I really feel loved and wanted. I applaud you for your courage but I wish you never had to deal with such situations that required it. Feel my hugs. CB

  4. I can’t tell you how much your story really hit home. I had dreams that my husband was cheating on me, sometimes right in front of me. I would have these dreams that I would be crying alone in a corner while the rest of my family looked at me with pity and only knowing in the dream that he was gone. And that was before I knew ANY of what was about to be dumped on me.
    I also can’t help being “nice” and “polite” no matter what is happening. And I was always the life of the party. And now I can’t even laugh at someone else’s joke and there seems to be a stopper between my social skills and my mouth. I just sit there with my unknowing friends…silent. I try to smile and nod at appropriate times and answer questions when asked. My eyes glaze over and my friends think it must be the stress of a new baby (4 months). If only they knew. If only the world knew. Maybe my mom would quit asking why the grass hasn’t been mowed. Maybe my brother would stop asking when we were going to host the family dinner (after all it IS our turn).
    I pray for you. I pray these realizations continue to make you stronger. It can get better, it can get worse…its just up to you to decide what to do with it all. Seems like you have the right idea.

  5. Thanks everyone for sharing their thoughts on my story “Shattered”. It is really helpful to know that there are others out there who are just as lost as I am.

  6. You are changed, not as innocent, as I think we all are after this. I did go to a therapist because of the immense magnitude of what my ex-husband had done to our family. She said it is the same as the holocaust. It was the understanding that everything was a lie that I had the hardest time with….I mean everything…..the entire con, my life, love, our children, all just a big joke to him, the man who was supposed to love and protect us. But he is one “man”, and not a man at all as men are supposed to be. I take comfort in that I did everything right and loved true, and after a few years was able to get most of me back, not all, but I think recovering from the damage takes a long time. We will never be the same.
    But now I just shake my head, even laugh, as my ex is still up to his ways. Now though, I watch with horror as people still call me to tell me all he does. He is the big joke to everyone now, because now everyone knows. My horror is that a few of the women he uses as his cover (nice women) totally believe in him and are being conned. They are so conned I say nothing because they would never believe it. They even come to our court dates with him actually using their good names to vouch for him against me. That is my horror now, for other women who are just as good as me and are now going to go through the same holocaust we have and don’t know it yet, but will. The destruction the SAs create on people just never seems to end.

  7. Why is it that SAs are the same all world over?

    If i tweak a few details here or there i think all our stories are interchangeable.

    The lies , OMG ,they are unbelievable.

    This woman he has picked up from a chat room,texted her for 2 days, spoke with her for 5 hrs in the night from 12 midnight to 5 in the morn and booked a flight at 4 a.m in the mrng to fly 1000 miles to meet up with her for the 1st time..tells me in the mrng that an urgent biz meeting has come up..leaves and spends the night with her (i put all the jigsaw pieces together later on by going thru his cell bills and calling the hotel where they both had separate rooms).After landing at the airport , en route to the hotel where she has already checked in, he texts me..” its so beautiful here..want you here with me”.

    Apart from the infidelity, it is this conscious deception which drives a knife thru your heart.

    I mean, yes, you are en route to a rendezvous..where is the reason to send me such texts.Its just that you play with my heartstrings to throw me off keep me in a haze of romance and love ,on the day you cant be with me coz you are shacked up with another woman,just so that my mind would not notice the drop in our levels of communication and try to figure out the reason for your absences.

    TO my rational mind,this doesnt appear to be an addiction.The word addiction feels to me that a person caught in the throes of it has no control over himself and that his mind is not functioning optimally.This man here,is razor sharp with all the lies he has told me,a master schemer who has covered every loose end,not raised an iota of doubt in my mind.

    This has happened over n over again in the 8 years.I sensed something was wrong, majorly wrong but never, not even once did i suspect another woman ( that it was a harem of online chatters ,casual sex dating site listers, hookers, massage therapits and what have you is another story).

    The gut wrenching, mind numbing soul shattering pain that you go thru,the shards of pain that shoot thru you,the nights and nights you lay awake going crazy in the head , your need to find solace in his arms ,your isolation from the rest of the world is to such an extent that the only person who can take away the pain is the person who gave it to you in the first place..the list of horrors they live in their wake is never ending.

    I just hung on to one thought..i will not be destroyed by a person such as this.

    He loves lies and hates the truth.I hate lies and want the truth even if it kills me.

    Speking the truth causes him immense stress.Lying causes me tremendous stress.

    He doesnt think that when you lie to a person you are in fact surrendering control to the person you are lying to coz when the lie gets called out you are finished.I think truth is the best friend and ally one can have in life coz with truth on your side you become your own master..nobody can have an iota of control over you.

    He thinks you become the more powerful one and the master in a relationship when you lie to someone and get away with it.I think i become subservient to the person i lie to.

    Lying is life to him..truth is my way of life.

    And never the twain shall meet.

    I have walked out a month back and its as if a great burden has been lifted off my back.

    I am yet not soaring..but i will fly someday as a free spirit unencumbered by lies and deception.

    1. I cannot tell you how much i can relate to your story. My husband took me on a 14 hour flight to New York for my birthday. Planned the whole itinerary with everything I love but did act out with a prostitute in those 4 days! We just had a formal disclosure with his therapist on the anniversary of my initial discovery. It was painful and full of new details of a life full of lies and deceit. Yet, I don’t know why I still need him to hug me and comfort me. Noone else gives me that comfort. I am angry at myself for being so dependent emotionally and financially on him. Even though for now he seems committed to recovery I know I will never be able to recover from this and neither will our relationship. I have a very trusting personality and never lie which is why I didn’t suspect that he was cheating for 20 years despite proof in my face! I do not want to live the rest of my life in fear that he will act out. I want to leave but don’t know how. The fear of loneliness and losing the only man I loved in my life is scaring me. I was 17 when I met him and moved from my parents house to his. I don’t know how to live alone. Please help! how did you have to courage to keave?

      1. Leave him,
        ask yourself this.
        Do you want to be married to a cheater?
        You cant change where your life came from but you can chose where to go.
        Dont settle for anyless than you are.

  8. Hi sanityregained,

    Too bad you didn’t take him up on his offer to meet him at the hotel on his “emergency biz trip”. Oh what fun that would’ve been, you crazy stalker you! (totally, totally kidding)

    Yes, he’s a sex addict, sadist, and a sociopath– master manipulator-con-artist.

    After he texted you, he undoubtedly sent the exact same text to half a dozen other unsuspecting women, including his (horrible) wife! And yes, indeed, my predator did the exact same thing to me…

    “Oh hun—emergency at work, can’t make it— miss you so much!”
    “my sis is having an emergency and I have to babysit my nieces–I’m so disappointed was so looking forward to seeing you, rats!”
    “my partner (who was working, in reality) forgot to tell me about two social engagements she scheduled today AND tomorrow–but I want to see you so desperately—soooo horny for you!”
    “Hey, sexy lady… I’m so sorry, it won’t work out today— the time is just too tight”

    (next day, after the “too tight day” he posts a porno film on adult FIEND finder made with his long time fuck buddy with her face CLEARLY showing and she’s a VP for a children’s book publishing company—Oh my!)

    Yes, indeed… All true. In my case, I was also “on the side” and I knew this, and that is all I wanted, but still… He was attached (poor woman) and a sex addict and a liar and had no conscience, whatsoever. In the beginning, it was so difficult to see, cause he was just so damned cute and “sweet.” ugh.

    I look at all of these things as lessons. I have finally gotten to the point where I don’t regret my time with him, one iota. I don’t regret any of it, because the good parts are a happy memory, that I’ll always treasure and the bad parts are what propelled me to be here now, with all of the great women on here.

    I admire your resolve to take the high road, however if you ever feel like stooping down to his low low level please reread my post from yesterday which was to you, too. I was responding to something you wrote under a different heading, (Lynn’s story) but if you look on the right, you can see it.

    I’m an honest and forthright person,(under normal circumstances), like you, but this is not normal and anyway, all’s fair in love and WAR (Womanizing Asshole Revenge) hehe… Its a plan that might be worth pursuing. Take the winds out of his over-inflated sails and wake his poor wife up too, without implicating yourself, whatsoever! Of course, if you don’t want to get involved with such shenanigans, I totally understand.

    For me, it was just a wonderful fantasy I had with your Delusional Dude getting a taste of his own shit.

    Doesn’t matter though, I guess because sooner or later, he’s apt to get far more than a taste… He’s absolutely wallowing in it. Its only a matter of time.

    Thanks for your sharing.



  9. First of all, thank you so much for that very kind very sweet note. I don’t know where I come up with all of this stuff, but laughter is a gift that I enjoy sharing.

    Our SAs give us a lot of material, because in the end, they are nothing but cartoon cut outs. 🙁

    Now, about the letter you are composing to him. DON’T SEND IT!!! I know it FEELS good to send him something like this…but, he is DE-LUSIONAL and in his mind… THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH HIMSELF!!!!!!!!! And if YOU (or anyone) points out to him that he has some FATAL FLAW— now, YOU become and object of his fekked up psycho brain! His extremely fragile ego CANNOT and WILL NOT ACCEPT such information and so it must be YOU!!!!!!

    This is how his silly putty brain processes this information that you are considering sending him. ugh… I have to apologize in advance because believe me here, this is exactly how he thinks… I’m so sorry, but here goes… 🙁

    “Hmmmmmmm… What the fuck is this??? What is Sanityregained saying??? Wow! What a FUCKING CRAZY CUNT!!!!!!!! How dare she??? She’s completely flipped her fucking lid!!!!! She’s making up stories about me… Wow! SHE’S CRAZY!!! She’s completely lost her marbles— Wow! Good thing that *I* dumped that crazy stupid bitch…”

    This is your best case scenario. Worst case scenario he will kill you. Really, he is not just a sex addict, but psychologically depraved in a really really SCARY way…and really, any dude who can make up a story about his wife jumping 14 floors to her death is just beyond SCARY. He is certifiably INSANE!!!!! God only knows how such a monster was created. Never mind, though. I think I need to take a shower, now… so gross!

    I totally understand about the wife too… It was really more of a fantasy than actually doing it, and I too, feel very sorry for her. Its not dissimilar to Predator’s partner who also could NOT deal with him having any kind of RELATIONSHIP, and could not even accept that he had several simultaneous affairs going on, in ADDITION to hundreds of anonymous encounters–and more, more, more!

    Please don’t send the email. He won’t get it, and its only going to end up causing you more hurt. I did something similar…Big mistake, only I sent it to his poor partner and what did she do? She called the fucking cops!!

    The only way they could reconcile the TRUTH was to make me a crazy psycho bunny boiling lunatic— All, just layers upon layers of hurt. I felt like a piece of pond scum after that… It was so horrible… I even told her in the email to call up some of her friends for support, because I knew that what I had to say was going to be painful. Its all just so horrible, there is no good resolution here… just RUN!!!!!!!! Like from a fast approaching Tsunami!!!

    The only possible recourse you have, is if he continues to harass you, after you’ve told HIM to stop. Then yeah…YOU can call the police and hopefully the wife will pick up the phone when they call him. That could work…

    Eventually, he probably will get sick and make her sick too. She knows, but she’s also sick. Nothing else to be done.

    Thank you so much for the hug… it means a lot to me!

    Here’s back atacha




  10. dearest sanity regained,

    Release this insanity. Live into the fullness of your posting name. Please let it be time to stop.

    Let us connect with you–the wonderful woman who is under the tyranny of this story. Tell us–what makes you happy? really happy? But don’t refer to him at all in your answer. Tell us your favorite colour, a song that warms you up inside, anything that’s about you—wonderful you.

    Please don’t give his crazy any more of your energy. Give that energy to yourself. Talk about you. We love you and accept you and will support and encourage you. And we want your company.

    sending you light and strength for yourself,

  11. Sanityregained,

    I couldn’t agree with Diane more!!!

    We get how insane he is and he is truly just beyond nuts–plain as day. As I said yesterday in lengthier terms, he won’t ever get it and he will ALWAYS make whatever you are telling him into YOUR PROBLEM, so you are merely spinning your wheels. Please, it is not healthy.

    That won’t allow you to recover your soul and is only guaranteed to cause additional pain and hurt—like continually picking at a scab. HE WILL NOT EVER GET IT. There is no vindication, I’m afraid… There are no winners in this WAR. What I DO recommend is starting a blog, perhaps… Make it public if you like, but no names of course and then let er rip… Give it to him like you never have before… but DON’T make it your life. Maybe an hour or so a day… just to vent and metaphorically tear him down. Okay??? And then… let it go… And IF he ever writes you ever again.

    DO NOT ANSWER HIM. please.

    Block/ignore… and I mean it… and if he does anything in any way nefarious, or harassing, which as you said he probably won’t… Then report him.

    Diane said it so beautifully… Figure out how to fill that void with your own joy, your own bliss.

    This is a lesson for all of us which I was thinking about during my gorgeous ballet class this morning… and I was thinking so much about SoulintheSun who I know is so lost.

    A lot of our issues often boil down to money. We need to strive to be self-supporting and we need to understand that— NO MATTER WHAT— We DO NOT NEED A MAN IN OUR LIFE!!!!!!!!!

    This is not to say that its not awfully nice,(if he’s a good, healthy man and not just someone pretending to be so) but at what price to our esteem and to our health and in some cases, attempts on our life, do we let the madness continue!?!

    A union between a man and a woman is not two halves making a whole.

    A good marriage is two HEALTHY WHOLES coming together to support each other and lift each other up… like two graceful columns holding up a porch.

    I know it isn’t easy.. I struggle every day myself, with these issues, but as long as I am seeing some forward movement towards my goals… then that is good enough for me.

    All the best to all,


  12. Dearest Diane and Lorraine,

    I completely , wholly and truly agree with you.I just realised today that when i was with him i was spending 3 to 4 hours with him everyday and since i have kicked him out more or less the same time i spend on the net reading or writing about him.

    So , even in his absence he is yet consuming 3 to 4 hours of my day.

    This realisation just hit me today.

    At the cost of being self critical ,is it my own way of still remaining connected with him?

    I think so.And so that i break this vicious cycle i have planned an outing with friendsfor the whole of saturday and have packed my sunday with various activities as well.

    Lorraine, i love dancing..jazz,hip hop contemporary and i dont miss my daily class for anything.I walked out on him at 2 in the afternoon and i was dancing away at 6 in the evening.

    I do feel my lifespan has been extended by 15%..the 4 hours that i gave him daily are again all do with as i please and am going to do all the things i missed out on due to his sheer possessiveness.

    Thank you, both of you, once again for so lovingly and gently guiding me back to the path of recovery.


  13. Brenda,
    I related to so much of your story…I see you shared this over a year ago…may I ask, Where are you now? And I’m just as curious to know, Where is he now?… Emotionally/mentally/spiritually I mean of course…
    Thank you for sharing!

  14. I am also going through the nightmare of sex addiction. We have been married 14 years with 3 children. 4 years ago I had an intervention through our church, because I found him signing up for adult sex websites among the many other porn sites he spent hours per day viewing. What I learned then was he had almost lost his job over porn. Bringing it out in the open made him just hide it better. Years of no emotional intimacy or support, lies, betrayal, telling me I didn’t see what I saw. Now present day, the discovery that my 39 year old husband had an affair with a 23 year old stripper after spending $1200. In one night taking her into a private room. When I insisted on seeing the texts on his phone and he refused, I knew. He actually came clean, told me (of course half truths and it’s taken over 3 months to get the real story). I am currently a shell of a woman, finically dependent on a sex addict as I put my life on hold to support his career and take care of our children. Of course his affair was “all my fault”. So with the evidence of dating sites, almost loosing his job, having UNPROTECTED sex with a stripper, spending over $5000. on this 2 week affair, he still is not willing to admit sexual addiction. We’ve been in counseling and I’ve seen behavior changes, but if you can’t admit the addiction, how can you ever get over it? I’ve seen an attorney, but keep yo-yoing on what I should do. My children 12, 10 and 8 will be devastated by a divorce. How long do you hold on and hope for change?

  15. Abuse… Oh my…

    How long do you have to wait? I don’t know. What I do know, is that your husband is a sex addict in active addiction, and that means that there is no hope. Quite frankly, even IF he admits it, and TRIES to get help, the chances of real recovery are still extremely remote.

    Honey, I was involved with a SA, and my husband is a SA. (my SA husband suggested that I date. oh what folly!) and NO, IT IS NOT YOUR FAULT!!! don’t fall for it. Blame, minimizing, lying… gaslighting, mindf*ck… its enraging, isn’t it?

    It took months before you found out???– “ALL”– very, very doubtful… They never disclose, ALL… not even to themselves and trust me, you do not want to know ALL. He’s better? for how long? and what IS better? Is it better enough? tough questions.

    Don’t worry about your kids being devastated. Believe me, that they’ll be even more devastated when they grow up and realize that their mother sacrificed herself for THEM. It never works. The other thing is that SA is an escalating disease… Think about the distinct possibility of one of your kids walking in on Dad with a hooker… or finding his porn… or the unthinkable… him being sexually inappropriate with one of your children. One out of every FIVE people walking the planet is a victim of domestic incest.

    The biggest problem is supporting yourself. Have you spoken to a lawyer? Were you working before you had kids? Could you get back into the workforce with the skills you have, or find a way to go back for more training? There are lots of great deals for women wanting to go back to school. Perhaps go for career counseling? Lots to ponder. I know… its very, very tough, but hang in there… You do not have to be a victim. (I know… believe me, I am struggling too… and have to get back to my own work in a sec)

    Do what’s best for you AND your children, for the long run. Keep them safe. Blink your eyes, and they will be grown up and OUT of the house. No medals are given out to martyrs… Your children will grow up to respect their mother for protecting them, and setting a wonderful example of what a strong, confident woman is. My mother got rid of my own abusive, narcissistic, psycho father. It was the best thing she ever did for me. Even if your h is a good father, he is still very sick. But, he can still be their father… just not all the time.

    All My best,


    1. Dear Lexie, I just wanted to say THANK YOU for all you do on this site as well as the Sisterhood of Support site! I love how you ‘tell it like it is’ – I know it’s hard to hear for a lot of women (myself included), but you speak the truth. Love you, Liza

  16. Liza,

    Thank you so much for your very kind words…I really really appreciate that, especially now, because sometimes I wonder what the hell i AM doing? How did I end up here? Why is this happening? why? why? why? It hurts so badly. But I am sure, that one day, I will have my answer and I will realize that I needed to be HERE, to get to THERE.(my villa in Italy, with my handsome A-doring HUNK);) In my saddest, darkest hours, I believe that.

    i am looking at this thread and going WTF? I wrote ALL that??? and of course, I’ve written hundreds of posts (maybe thousands lol). Believe me, its tough for me to hear what I have to say, too! and it seems to be getting tougher every day as I, like everyone else, reading this, am coming to terms with the hard, cold, unfeeling fact, that my husband threw me (and our two children) under the bus, in favor of himself and his “needs.” He claims that he loved me. Ha! But, tell me, what is loving about constantly going after OTHER women and then leaving your cyber smut open, on your “beloved”, “cherished” wife’s computer? (by “accident”) What is loving about her pouring her heart to you, and then not giving anything back in return? What is loving about sending your wife out to support the family, while you whack off to some desperate babe on web cam? What is loving about looking for a new relationship (on the side, of course), while your wife is battling some unknown disease,leaving her full of mysterious pain and chronic, crippling fatigue? (I believe now, was the onset of my HPV, 2 years ago– but I’m much better, but still have the HPV) 🙁

    For years, and years… I sacrificed myself… yes. i was lonely. (sorry if that sounds self-righteous, but I could NEVER have broken my promise to my husband!) Yes, I longed to be loved and to be held and made love to. But as time passed… not by him. However, at the time, I didn’t know why I no longer wanted it to be him. (and I even felt guilty about that)

    but now, I know why I didn’t want him…

    suppurating, soul-less, unfeeling, empty whores make very poor bed partners.

    I can’t stay in this marriage any longer. I have to go. Its not easy, and there’s no quick fix, however, I am taking steps to leave this hellhole and sham of a marriage.

    I don’t even care if the grass is greener.

    I just want some fucking grass– PERIOD!!!

    my best and love ~ Lexie

    1. Dear Lexie,

      I am new to this site and just want you and all the other women who post on this site to know how much it means to me that I am not alone in what I am going through, that my thoughts, feeling and reactions are normal although I wish each and everyone of us was NOT going through this. You all write so intelligently as you tell it like it is. Now to get to the reason I am replying to you Lexie, is to tell you I found a cure for HPV (I hope). I was watching the Today Show last December and a woman was on telling how to make your own natural beauty products at home. She was talking about plumping your lips naturally with Clove or Cinnamon Oil. So being someone who’s always trying new things, I went to the local health food store and bought some. Starting alternating between the two and liked Clove Oil the best. Well low and behold in two weeks my wart completely disappeared. Looking up the health benefits of both – it says they are both antiviral, antimicrobial, antifungal, blood cleanser, immune booster ect. If you decide to use it, put just a few drops on your finger, rub over your lips, (a little would always run into my mouth)and then put a lip balm over it in about 30 seconds. It burns and taste gross but does plump your lips but I don’t care about that, just that fact that it ended up getting rid of a genital wart that I had had cut off my ob-gyn and it grew back in about 7 months. She said when she cut it off and biopsied it that it wasn’t the cancerous typy of HPV but it could grow back and then she would try burning it off. So glad I don’t have to have that done now. Well anyway I hope this works for you if you decide to try it. I’m not completely positive that this is what made it disappear but I did not do anything else (such as a change in diet or vitamins ect) so I’m pretty sure this is what did the trick.

  17. Hi Gloria,

    Welcome to the land of the half-living-barely-walking-wounded– sorry that you have to be here, but glad that you found us. Thank you so much for your very kind words AND especially, the great tip! I’m going to try that. Nothing to lose– and everything to gain! My HPV is not the wart causing kind, which ironically is not the cancer causing kind, but still… I really would like to get this shit into remission… just a little gift from my darling predator who claimed that he was squeaky clean.

    Oh to put up a billboard on the West Side Hwy (of Manhattan) with a larger than life pic of Predator—


    Ya know…men with HPV can get cancer of the penis… and of course, the only way to save the man’s life is to cut it off. 😉


  18. Brenda – reading this has made me feel less alone.

    I too have just had the strength to walk away from my sex addicted ex boyfriend. I have been told by him (and I quote) ‘ i am not a monster for having a love of the macabre, it’s just who I am’ and ‘we’re both good people who made mistakes.’

    Looking at the excuses, lies and validation whilst feeling the shame I do – it is so hard not to feel alone.

    But your story and the wonderful way you have phrased it has given me hope.

    Thank you.

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