AnonymousAnnaXO
Active Member
So I haven't been on in a while. Lots has happened. I am 27 weeks pregnant, got a magazine job, started a mom blog, etc. But I wanted to post this big moment for me. I finally was able to express the pain I've been through to my husband and he sat there adn listened and didn't fight me on it.
So last night I don't know what the hell happened but it was like he changed. I was so shocked (even more so because he hasn't been on nofap or read anything I've written). He came home I gave him a warm greeting like he has asked a couple times. I left the room and came back in and he was working on the packet. I was like, "wow, okay" and I was on nofap reading and catching up while he did that. Instead of talking about the packet, he put it down and said, "Anna I want to talk about last night and what happened." I was like "Yeah" (so happy he wanted to because I wanted to). We ended up going over what it's been like for me.
I told him why things on tv or ads trigger me so much if he see's or looks and I said, "Sweetie, it's like everytime you don't look away or see something sexual and we are together it's like you're watching porn and getting off in front of me, that is why I get so hurt and cry sometimes." He said that that description helped him understand my emotions and he encouraged me to continue. I felt safe because he handled that emotional reveal well.
I continued, "This is the easiest way to describe it. Esther Perel had a ted talk on infidelity and she described infidelity in the tech age as a death by a thousand cuts. The Instagram likes and other social media likes in front of me was like you cutting me with each like. The saved naked girl on your phone was a deep cut. The minimizing and denying was like you adding more cuts. I was bleeding. I was bleeding since the Instagram (which was 3 months into our relationship). Then it was the dinner where a porn site was on your phone when you pulled it out. That was like you stabbing a sword through my chest, grazing my heart. I was almost dying from that wound. Again, I was still bleeding from other wounds, and this just added. I now was bleeding profusely. I now needed emergency medical attention, if you follow my metaphor. Then I am now in a hospital, wounds all wrapped, can't get out of bed. And a month goes by to find SuicideGirls. That was deep cuts with each lie of saying, 'my friend took my phone' 'I didn't do that' 'don't know how that got there.' You promised me never again and I knew everything but I was practically dying with all the cuts from that night alone. Then, I go to work and your history reveals porn. You threw me into a spiked coffin, and with each scroll it was like you opened and closed the coffin on me over and over. I fell out of the coffin looking like swiss cheese on top of the old bleeding wounds that weren't healed. I can barely stay alive at this point, and I have to not cry or scream since my dad walked in the room. I metaphorically crawl out of the room, leaving a bloody trail. I am admitted to a hospital and they are doing everything they can to keep me alive. You come home with roses, attempting to bandage my wounds. The next day I am barely there, still in the most agonizing pain. The day after, I decide I need to look through your history since you were begging me not to at work the other day. With each scroll and new reveal it's more tiny cuts, with deep gashes and this time its gashes in my wrists (where I can die from) and my neck, and other important arteries. With the final discovery, you reached into my chest pulled my heart out and threw it in a paper shredder. I am officially dead. I'll never be the girl I was before all this. You get home and try to repair the damage, taping my shredded heart back together, and getting me to a hospital. I have no time to heal, and I wrap my wounds so tightly that with clothes on you would never see how much blood is constantly pouring out. I hide my wounds as I attend to yours. I take care of you, guide you during this discovery phase where you also seem broken. Now over a year later, I still have this trail of blood wherever I go. I am still bleeding. With each time you get back into recovery and then stop, you take a knife and open up a scar that was almost healed. You are peeling off scabs letting them bleed again. This is why I told you the other night I feel like I am dying in this relationship sometimes."
My husband was so shocked after. He said, "I feel like crying but I am holding it in. This is what I needed to hear. I can't even imagine what you've been through" and we hugged. I cried and continued telling him other things and he cried. We connected, strongly, for the first time in a couple months. It was one of the hardest things I've had to say to my husband because I love him so much. At least, now, I hope, he truly gets my pain. He seems to get it, last night he was very shocked, shamed, disturbed even to see what he has done. He told me, "Anna, this is why I say you're the strongest person I've ever met. You stayed with me while you were 'dying' and you helped me and you took it all and you still married me and are here, trying. You are so emotionally strong, I admire your strength." That was SO nice to hear.
We have a couples therapy session today, I look forward to it. I get to tell the therapist I was able to describe my pain, which has been something I've struggled to do since my husband would shut the conversation down to avoid it in the past.
So last night I don't know what the hell happened but it was like he changed. I was so shocked (even more so because he hasn't been on nofap or read anything I've written). He came home I gave him a warm greeting like he has asked a couple times. I left the room and came back in and he was working on the packet. I was like, "wow, okay" and I was on nofap reading and catching up while he did that. Instead of talking about the packet, he put it down and said, "Anna I want to talk about last night and what happened." I was like "Yeah" (so happy he wanted to because I wanted to). We ended up going over what it's been like for me.
I told him why things on tv or ads trigger me so much if he see's or looks and I said, "Sweetie, it's like everytime you don't look away or see something sexual and we are together it's like you're watching porn and getting off in front of me, that is why I get so hurt and cry sometimes." He said that that description helped him understand my emotions and he encouraged me to continue. I felt safe because he handled that emotional reveal well.
I continued, "This is the easiest way to describe it. Esther Perel had a ted talk on infidelity and she described infidelity in the tech age as a death by a thousand cuts. The Instagram likes and other social media likes in front of me was like you cutting me with each like. The saved naked girl on your phone was a deep cut. The minimizing and denying was like you adding more cuts. I was bleeding. I was bleeding since the Instagram (which was 3 months into our relationship). Then it was the dinner where a porn site was on your phone when you pulled it out. That was like you stabbing a sword through my chest, grazing my heart. I was almost dying from that wound. Again, I was still bleeding from other wounds, and this just added. I now was bleeding profusely. I now needed emergency medical attention, if you follow my metaphor. Then I am now in a hospital, wounds all wrapped, can't get out of bed. And a month goes by to find SuicideGirls. That was deep cuts with each lie of saying, 'my friend took my phone' 'I didn't do that' 'don't know how that got there.' You promised me never again and I knew everything but I was practically dying with all the cuts from that night alone. Then, I go to work and your history reveals porn. You threw me into a spiked coffin, and with each scroll it was like you opened and closed the coffin on me over and over. I fell out of the coffin looking like swiss cheese on top of the old bleeding wounds that weren't healed. I can barely stay alive at this point, and I have to not cry or scream since my dad walked in the room. I metaphorically crawl out of the room, leaving a bloody trail. I am admitted to a hospital and they are doing everything they can to keep me alive. You come home with roses, attempting to bandage my wounds. The next day I am barely there, still in the most agonizing pain. The day after, I decide I need to look through your history since you were begging me not to at work the other day. With each scroll and new reveal it's more tiny cuts, with deep gashes and this time its gashes in my wrists (where I can die from) and my neck, and other important arteries. With the final discovery, you reached into my chest pulled my heart out and threw it in a paper shredder. I am officially dead. I'll never be the girl I was before all this. You get home and try to repair the damage, taping my shredded heart back together, and getting me to a hospital. I have no time to heal, and I wrap my wounds so tightly that with clothes on you would never see how much blood is constantly pouring out. I hide my wounds as I attend to yours. I take care of you, guide you during this discovery phase where you also seem broken. Now over a year later, I still have this trail of blood wherever I go. I am still bleeding. With each time you get back into recovery and then stop, you take a knife and open up a scar that was almost healed. You are peeling off scabs letting them bleed again. This is why I told you the other night I feel like I am dying in this relationship sometimes."
My husband was so shocked after. He said, "I feel like crying but I am holding it in. This is what I needed to hear. I can't even imagine what you've been through" and we hugged. I cried and continued telling him other things and he cried. We connected, strongly, for the first time in a couple months. It was one of the hardest things I've had to say to my husband because I love him so much. At least, now, I hope, he truly gets my pain. He seems to get it, last night he was very shocked, shamed, disturbed even to see what he has done. He told me, "Anna, this is why I say you're the strongest person I've ever met. You stayed with me while you were 'dying' and you helped me and you took it all and you still married me and are here, trying. You are so emotionally strong, I admire your strength." That was SO nice to hear.
We have a couples therapy session today, I look forward to it. I get to tell the therapist I was able to describe my pain, which has been something I've struggled to do since my husband would shut the conversation down to avoid it in the past.