pictures, counseling, hope, lies

I've never seen a therapist before or been to counseling so this experience was totally new to me. I hope my experience might prepare you to know what's ahead if you're feeling unsure or nervous. As always, just hang in there and do your best. 

The morning of our first session was rocky for me. The day before, I had found pictures on Simon's onedrive. The kind of pictures used for sexting. There were only three but all of him. 

Jimmy was sitting there when I stumbled upon them and I had to quickly distract him and take him into his room. My heart was racing. I checked the pictures for a date. They were taken just two days earlier--the night of our blow up. My heart was exploding. 

A couple thoughts train wrecked in my mind: "He was probably so upset about what I had said that evening. I drove him to do this." And then: "Did he send these pictures to someone?"

Simon has been adamant that he never engaged in sexting. He admitted that he'd talked to women he'd met on chatting/dating apps several times but that is was never sexual. Never. He said this to me--I asked him several times-- and to the stake president and disciplinary council. 

So I asked him again. I immediately texted him and asked how he was doing and if he'd had any slip ups the past few days. (One of the new boundaries was that he had to tell me of any slip ups/acting out within 24 hours of the incident.)

He replied, "No, I haven't."

Lies. But I didn't tell him I knew. I decided to give him more time to come clean about it. 

So we headed to our first counseling session. Along the way, I asked if he could share all his usernames and passwords with me so there was complete transparency. He had promised to be "completely honest" with me, after all. 

He gave me the passwords to log into on my own phone. And I could totally see his mind racing. He was pretty quick with his own phone too, even though he was driving. I'm sure he was checking all his accounts to make sure there was nothing I could stumble upon. 

Simon was extremely nervous at the session. His leg was bouncing all over the place. He was emotional and embarrassed. And I totally understand that. It's an embarrassing topic. He knows what he's done--and doing--is wrong. 

That first visit is mainly just an intro. You tell your story and how you think you for to this point. The therapist asked about how we met, etc. The therapist made sure to validate us both. He was on no ones side. It felt loving and non- judgemental. He referred to an assessment that both Simon and I had filled out prior. Basically they were questions on how strongly you and your spouse agree or disagree on certain things: religious matters, communication, affection, shared interests, etc. 

Simon and I had apparantly both said we had no interests in common. It's sad. We admitted we never went on dates or engaged in activities we could bond over. (Of course, my retort was that it's hard to date someone who's never around. Simon was always irritable and negative when I suggested outings like family hikes or a cooking class we could take together. Simon never dated me voluntarily.)

So our therapist advised that we each make a list of our interests, find common ground, and once a week work on re-dating each other. 

During the session, we talked about concerns or issues as well. I made it a point to tell our therapist that I was concerned that Simon was sexting. Simon adamantly swore that he wasn't. He had never ever done that. I told Simon and the therapist that I found it hard to believe that someone could go from platonic conversations to an affair in one big jump. I was sure he had sexted. 

Again, he promised he hadn't ever done that. Never. 

So we left. I could feel the tension and sadness and awkwardness between us. I asked him again, "Are you sure you've never sexted?" 

"Yes, I'm positive. I'm telling you the truth!" He said. 

"Have you ever taken pictures of yourself to send?" 

"No!"  Simon was getting irritated. 

"Simon I found the pictures."

"What pictures? I didn't take any pictures!" Acting all hurt and defensive. 

"Simon, I found them on your one drive. You took them Sunday." 

He was all dramatic and hurt and acted like he had no idea what I was taking about, like I was some crazy paranoid psycho. 

Then I described the pictures to him. He went silent. He got that face. The "I'm caught" face, the "quick think of a way to lie about it" face. Unfortunately, I know that face well now. Lies. 

Then he admitted. Yes, he'd taken those pictures. He didn't know why. He was embarrassed. He didn't know why he had to lie about it. But no, he didn't send them. He's never sexted. Never. 

Once again, we had the talk about honesty and transparency. 

We spent the day with Simon, had dinner, we talked about common interests and dates we could go on. Simon went to his first Sexaholics Anonymous meeting. When he got back he told me about it and I could tell it had been a good experience. He said it actually felt liberating. He said it had been nice to talk with other men and not feel judged because he knew they'd all done the same things. 

He was so happy he'd gone and so was I. I felt a spark of hope. Even though I don't have those lovey-dovey feelings for him now, I still love him. He's essentially my brother, a child of God. I want to help him. 

But is staying married helping him? That thought sits on my brain 24-7. 

The kids and I spent the night and Simon slept in a spare bed. I had an early Primary Presidency meeting and didn't want to have to drive back to my parents and then back home again the next day. Simon was so happy that he would wake up with his family in the house. Honestly, I was happy too. I felt sad thinking of Simon alone all the time. I knew it was hard for him. But separation had to be a consequence and boundary. 

Of course, I woke up at 6 am. I checked my mail. Then I decided to check Simon's. He'd given me his passwords remember? And there, ironically, in the TRASH, were three emails sent to a woman I didn't know. And these emails contained the same pictures ( and a surprise video) I had found a couple days earlier. Simon had sent them Sunday night right after taking them. 

I trembled. I fell to the floor. I went on my knees and prayed. And though the shock was real, I felt surprisingly calm and non-emotional. I felt like I was getting that confirmation from Heavenly Father that I had been so desperately pleading for. My bishop had said that deciphering between feeling and inspiration would be hard. That I would need to be as close to the Spirit as possible to know when a thought or decision was inspiration from Heavenly Father or not. 

I had my answer and it felt right. 

Simon came into my room to say good morning. He asked if we could say a prayer. We did. I knew he was trying. I knew he was progressing little by little. And it's nice to see. 

But I sat by him on the edge of the bed and calmly--and lovingly as possible-- told him I had found the emails. He got "the face". The deer in the headlights stare. As we talked he admitted that yes he had viewed pornography and sexted that Sunday night. He admitted that yes, all those texting conversations he'd had over the years were sexting conversations.  He admitted that he'd gone to a strip club more than once. 

What's sad and scary for me, as a loved one of a sex addict, is how dissensitized you can become as well. You begin to expect and almost not even bat an eyelash at the things you're spouse has done. You don't condone it, but it becomes less and less shocking and just...expected. And that is terribly, terribly heartbreaking for ME. I don't want this addiction and the lies to be my life too. 

I told Simon that with every lie that gets caught, he's making it easier and easier for me to leave. It just is. I told him I loved him --and I meant it. And I told him we should get divorced. 

He was shell-shocked for a few moments. But then he cried. He sobbed. He begged. I felt so sorry for him. I felt so sad that his life was spiraling out of control. But I felt peace. I felt freed. I felt sure. 

Simon said he felt like he was still having trouble grasping reality. He's dwelt in fantasy and lies for so long. And because he keeps having to get caught to be compelled to tell the truth, I told him I didn't think he'd hit rock bottom yet. I felt divorce was the only way to get him there  and onto recovery. I told him I wanted him to win us back. To fight for us. 

He begged. He said when he was with us he didn't have temptation. 

The S-Anon mantra entered my mind: "I can't control it. I can't change it. I can't cure it." In short, I am not responsible. 

I can't be with Simon every second of the day. I can't be with him on business trips. I can't be in every conversation or dinner he has with co-workers. There are many times when Simon will have to be alone. He has to make the right choices in those moments. He has to get help. He has to work with the stake president. He has to get specialized therapy. He has to work with SA and work the steps. I can't recover for him. Now matter how hard I try and I won't live with an active addiction. My kids will not live with an active addiction. 

That first year we were married, I remember Simon and I sat in our car talking one day about how we'd never say the word "divorce." No matter what, we'd stay together. Twenty year old, newlywed me never dreamed that pornography, lies and infidelity would change that. She didn't know she'd be the one to say "divorce." 

I weep for those two newlyweds. 

AnneGirl