Lindsay went away to a Life Coach conference. It cost “a lot” of money. She would be gone for several days. We had just barely finished moving and a very busy week of accounting deadlines for her. I was tired and was bugged that I’d be taking care of the kids alone for a few more days. Just because I’d progressed leaps and bounds didn’t mean my anxiety didn’t still pop up.
Is this worth it?I thought. I want to support her. She is so excited. But does it have to be right now? Turns out I survived (unlike my brain told me would happen).
Lindsay came back walking on air. She was lighter, smiling more, energized, motivated, more confident. Not that she wasn’t already amazing. But something was different about her, in a big way. I...
As part of my mental illness, I had some suppressed memories arise from my childhood. I was sexually abused.
I would wake up to nightmares, sweating and panicking, unable to go back to sleep. My sleep quality and quantity became worse than ever. My anxiety would get triggered by the smallest things and then go from 0-60 instantly. I couldn’t even make decisions on my own when it was really bad. Lindsay would have to decide for me like, which sandwich to order from the restaurant, even simple things like that would overwhelm me.
I was incredibly jumpy and easily startled. My heart would race. I was experiencing PTSD (Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder). For whatever reason, my body was finally ready to process trauma from the abuse. And it was not something...
Lindsay started working. That it had come to this was completely unacceptable in my mind. I should be the one providing. That was the plan. That’s what The Family: A Proclamation to the World says (at least that’s how I interpreted it). That’s what I promised her. I’m a failure, I thought.
I struggled with this. And even though I started including Lindsay in my struggle, and was receiving all this help, I still resorted to porn at times. Less frequently, but I still struggled to find success with this.
One therapist early on told me I wasn’t an addict. I was so relieved. But wasn’t getting the help I needed. Later on, a different therapist told me I was an addict. I tried this hat on for a while.
If we fix me this will all be better. I went to therapy weekly. I saw a psychiatrist for medication. I tried so many things: neurologist, endocrinologist, exercise, yoga therapy, naturopaths, supplements, chiropractor, acupuncture, neurofeedback, energy work, gluten free and sugar free and dairy free diet. There’s more.
My psychiatrist said he’s never seen someone try so many different things as I had. I was in a hurry to fix me. If I just get better, I can get back to work and Linz will be happy.
Why do I have this problem with pornography that makes things so hard for Lindsay? Why couldn’t it be alcohol? Or just anything els!.
I couldn’t handle Lindsay being upset about anything, but especially if she was...