"How did I end up here at 3am, typing this message on a blow up mattress in the spare room at my Mom's?
That's the question that keeping me awake... Now I guess I should tell my story.
If you look at my profile, you'd probably scratch your head a say "Why is someone with a 7 year old profile posting in the FN thread?" Well, let's tell that story and then I can move to why I'm on a mattress at Mom's starting my DB journey all over.
To make the backstory short, I joined the DB forum during my last separation in 2007. We had been married with no kids up til that point. Life had been alright up until a few years before that, good jobs, new home and all the other things that went along with it. But there had always been a disfunctional aspect of our M, a lot of the disfunction stemmed from FOO issue for both us. For me, it was anger issue, self-esteem issues and alcohol/substance abuse problems. For her, they were control issues, self-esteem and codependency.
At some point along the way, the grass began to look greener, as a result I ended up in a EA/PA with an OW. This, as well as all the other issues, got compounded when I lost my job and went into a downward spiral that culminated with our S just a week before Christmas of 2006.
After a couple months of feeling sorry for myself, I began to put the pieces of my life back together. With a decent IC, a good recovery program and support from some good friend, I really got into a good place. At some point during the beginning of Summer 2007, I discovered the DB forums and the books. I bought the books and read them so many time, they were worn and dog-eared. I read everything I could on the forums, but I lurked and never told my story... Until now.
The W and I did not have much contact during that Summer. Which was for the best, since I did EVERYTHING wrong possible in the months prior. But with a bit of recovery behind me and the DB techiques, I used the LTR. By August, the W informed me she wanted to move forward with the D. We had begun the discussions about the process a couple months before. August moved into September and I was working my butt off: GAL, doing 180's and really paying close attention to how I communicated and listened. I did a lot more listening than talking most times. And whay I heard wasn't pretty and didn't seem promising.
September began with a bang, she wanted to have the D papers signed and filed by the end of the month. I believe she was timing it to coincide with her birthday. I had one request, that we sit an meet with an MC, not to work on R but to work on any unresolved issues with the hope that we could both move on with a clean slate.
The D papers were signed an notarized on 9/15/2007, we met with the MC that same afternoon. That may have been the most painful session I have ever done. I left there feeling like I had given everything I had and that I had come up short. Time to move on.
But... She didn't file. She actually open up dialog between us. After a couple weeks, we went back and saw the MC again and the session was different. October came and so did her birthday, still no talk about the D. By mid-October, the discussion was R and by November, we were back together again.
... Lets fast forward through the "good" years. They were all good but they were better than any we had for a very long time. Out of that, we got pregnant and we had our daughter in January 2010. There were ups and downs, but they never ever felt like the horrorshow rollercoaster that came before, or the one that would follow.
At some point along the way, all the hard work I had done on my personal recovery was lost. Things became strained, we were seeing a new MC. The spiral began again and really got bad in March of this year and we stopped sleeping together. It's now June and we are longer living together. Until a couple hours ago, I'd felt like I'd forgotten everything I learned the first time, about my personal recovery and DB'ing.
I'm back and I'm posting this time. I get the feeling that R will not be as easy this time around. But I get the sense that the work I do this time will mean more since I know what it was like to have gotten back a love that I had lost once before.
Last edited by RiverRat812; 06/26/1407:27 AM.
Me: 43 Her: 37 D: 4 T: 20 years M: 15 years 1st Separation: 12/20/06 Drew up papers for D: 9/15/07 Reconciled: 11/1/07
I guess I'm coming back at db'ing with a beginners minset. I've read Sandi's 37 Rules so many times in the past 72 hours my head is swimming.
I've had to go dark to keep my sanity since I keep getting dragged into the same old circular destructive stuff. I really need a break from that to heal.
I moved out of the house because we had a very, very bad weekend. Most of that was on my part...
I moved out of the bedroom because the M had broken down so badly, it was the best thing to do. I have been planning to move out for 2 months now and I had set the date as 8/1 but obviously we didn't make it to that point.
There is no other way to say it, she is a WAW. She's running fron my drinking and the destructive behaviors that go along with it. I have not been abusive but I haven't been a model citizen either. I accept the responsibility of that and I'm working my own IC and programs to get thorugh that. It's the healing that I need to do to GAL.
Me: 43 Her: 37 D: 4 T: 20 years M: 15 years 1st Separation: 12/20/06 Drew up papers for D: 9/15/07 Reconciled: 11/1/07
She's running fron my drinking and the destructive behaviors that go along with it. I have not been abusive but I haven't been a model citizen either. I accept the responsibility of that and I'm working my own IC and programs to get thorugh that. It's the healing that I need to do to GAL.
Can you blame her from running away from the above?
Are you dating? Is she dating?
GAL is OK but maybe in your case you need to be the BEST DAD you can be.
How can you become a person that only a fool would leave?
No... I don't blame her at all. For me, the learning experience was that DB'ing is like AA. You are never cured and you cannot stop working on it. The moment I got complacent with one, I got complacent with the other.
Neither one of us is dating.
I'm working on the Dad thing... The healing thing is more about being the Best Dad possible and less about GAL. When I said I was GAL, I meant that I wasn't focusing on the W, the M and the possibilty of R right now. That is something for the future, if that is what the future holds.
UPDATE: I just had a 25 minute phone conversation with the W about my 4 year old D and visitation. This is the latest in an ongoing discussion that has happened via text. Which has left me looking desparate and pitiful when I go back and read the text over. I believe that the ability to actually listen to the other person and hear the underlying emotion made a lot of difference, maybe moreso for me. I paid attention to my Do's and my Dont's and focused on keeping my end of the conversation in the right place. At the same time, I also listened to what she was saying and didn't fly off and respond to some of the things that would have caused an argument in the past. It's early, this call will be one of many but it was a chance to really focus on keeping my head in the right place, while respecting both our feelings and needs.
What will it take to be simply irresistable again? A whole bunch of 180's!!!
Me: 43 Her: 37 D: 4 T: 20 years M: 15 years 1st Separation: 12/20/06 Drew up papers for D: 9/15/07 Reconciled: 11/1/07
So I made it home late last night, ate dinner with my mom and then we had a little chat about stuff and my Mom shared a video clip on Youtube with me. Afterwards we watched some Netflix. I went to bed after watching one show, read a bunch of newcomers threads on the DB forums and then went to bed around midnight.
I woke up at 5:50am feeling completely refreshed and rested. This has only happened one other time in the past six months. I got showered and dressed. Then I MADE MY BED and proceeded to head off to work.
On my way to work I received a couple text messages from my wife. She wanted to know if I was available to visit with my daughter at the house on Saturday. This has been the only topic of discussion for the past 3 days. A discussion that has had many twists and turns. It also culminated in one of my earliest 180's. Instead of arguing defensively about why one side of the other should have things their way, our phone conversation was about how we could compromise on a mutually agreeable solution. Her text message was a proposal that was exactly that. I kept my replies brief and on-topic. Let her be the last to speak and left it at that.
--------------------------- Now I want to share the subject of the video my Mom showed me and explain why I highlighted the part about making my bed. The video clip was the Commencement Address to the 2014 graduating class of the University of Texas. It was given by Adm. William H McRaven, a Navy Seal of 36 years. In his speech, he spoke of 10 Lessons he learned from his time in the navy Seals. I'm posting them mainly for my own benefit. But maybe someone else that reads them can take something from them and use it in during their time DB'ing.
Here is a link for anyone that would like to listen to the whole address:
I have adapted the transcript to suit my own situation, changes are in red.
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...Here are the ten lesson’s I learned from basic SEAL training that hopefully will be of value to you as you move forward in life.
Every morning in basic SEAL training, my instructors, who at the time were all Viet Nam veterans, would show up in my barracks room and the first thing they would inspect was your bed. If you did it right, the corners would be square, the covers pulled tight, the pillow centered just under the headboard and the extra blanket folded neatly at the foot of the rack—rack—that’s Navy talk for bed. It was a simple task—mundane at best. But every morning we were required to make our bed to perfection. It seemed a little ridiculous at the time, particularly in light of the fact that were aspiring to be real warriors, tough battle hardened SEALs—but the wisdom of this simple act has been proven to me many times over. If you make your bed every morning you will have accomplished the first task of the day. It will give you a small sense of pride and it will encourage you to do another task and another and another. By the end of the day, that one task completed will have turned into many tasks completed. Making your bed will also reinforce the fact that little things in life matter. If you can’t do the little things right, you will never do the big things right. And, if by chance you have a miserable day, you will come home to a bed that is made—that you made—and a made bed gives you encouragement that tomorrow will be better.
If you want to change the world, start off by making your bed.
During SEAL training the students are broken down into boat crews. Each crew is seven students—three on each side of a small rubber boat and one coxswain to help guide the dingy. Every day your boat crew forms up on the beach and is instructed to get through the surfzone and paddle several miles down the coast. In the winter, the surf off San Diego can get to be 8 to 10 feet high and it is exceedingly difficult to paddle through the plunging surf unless everyone digs in. Every paddle must be synchronized to the stroke count of the coxswain. Everyone must exert equal effort or the boat will turn against the wave and be unceremoniously tossed back on the beach. For the boat to make it to its destination, everyone must paddle. You can’t change the world alone—you will need some help— and to truly get from your starting point to your destination takes friends, colleagues, the good will of strangers and a strong coxswain to guide them.
If you want to change the world, find someone to help you paddle.
Over a few weeks of difficult training my SEAL class which started with 150 men was down to just 35. There were now five boat crews of seven men each. I was in the boat with the tall guys, but the best boat crew we had was made up of the the little guys—the munchkin crew we called them—no one was over about 5-foot five. The munchkin boat crew had one American Indian, one African American, one Polish America, one Greek American, one Italian American, and two tough kids from the mid-west. They out paddled, out-ran, and out swam all the other boat crews. The big men in the other boat crews would always make good natured fun of the tiny little flippers the munchkins put on their tiny little feet prior to every swim. But somehow these little guys, from every corner of the Nation and the world, always had the last laugh— swimming faster than everyone and reaching the shore long before the rest of us. SEAL training was a great equalizer. Nothing mattered but your will to succeed. Not your color, not your ethnic background, not your education and not your social status.
If you want to change the world, measure a person by the size of their heart, not the size of their flippers.
Several times a week, the instructors would line up the class and do a uniform inspection. It was exceptionally thorough. Your hat had to be perfectly starched, your uniform immaculately pressed and your belt buckle shiny and void of any smudges. But it seemed that no matter how much effort you put into starching your hat, or pressing your uniform or polishing your belt buckle—- it just wasn’t good enough. The instructors would fine “something” wrong. For failing the uniform inspection, the student had to run, fully clothed into the surfzone and then, wet from head to toe, roll around on the beach until every part of your body was covered with sand. The effect was known as a “sugar cookie.” You stayed in that uniform the rest of the day—cold, wet and sandy. There were many a student who just couldn’t accept the fact that all their effort was in vain. That no matter how hard they tried to get the uniform right—it was unappreciated. Those students didn’t make it through training. Those students didn’t understand the purpose of the drill. You were never going to succeed. You were never going to have a perfect uniform. Sometimes no matter how well you prepare or how well you perform you still end up as a sugar cookie. It’s just the way life is sometimes.
If you want to change the world get over being a sugar cookie and keep moving forward.
Every day during training you were challenged with multiple physical events—long runs, long swims, obstacle courses, hours of calisthenics—something designed to test your mettle. Every event had standards—times you had to meet. If you failed to meet those standards your name was posted on a list and at the end of the day those on the list were invited to—a “circus.” A circus was two hours of additional calisthenics—designed to wear you down, to break your spirit, to force you to quit. No one wanted a circus. A circus meant that for that day you didn’t measure up. A circus meant more fatigue—and more fatigue meant that the following day would be more difficult—and more circuses were likely. But at some time during SEAL training, everyone—everyone—made the circus list. But an interesting thing happened to those who were constantly on the list. Overtime those students-—who did two hours of extra calisthenics—got stronger and stronger. The pain of the circuses built inner strength, built physical resiliency. Life is filled with circuses. You will fail. You will likely fail often. It will be painful. It will be discouraging. At times it will test you to your very core.
But if you want to change the world, don’t be afraid of the circuses.
At least twice a week, the trainees were required to run the obstacle course. The obstacle course contained 25 obstacles including a 10-foot high wall, a 30-foot cargo net, and a barbed wire crawl to name a few. But the most challenging obstacle was the slide for life. It had a three level 30 foot tower at one end and a one level tower at the other. In between was a 200-foot long rope. You had to climb the three tiered tower and once at the top, you grabbed the rope, swung underneath the rope and pulled yourself hand over hand until you got to the other end. The record for the obstacle course had stood for years when my class began training in 1977. The record seemed unbeatable, until one day, a student decided to go down the slide for life—head first. Instead of swinging his body underneath the rope and inching his way down, he bravely mounted the TOP of the rope and thrust himself forward. It was a dangerous move—seemingly foolish, and fraught with risk. Failure could mean injury and being dropped from the training. Without hesitation—the student slid down the rope—perilously fast, instead of several minutes, it only took him half that time and by the end of the course he had broken the record.
If you want to change the world sometimes you have to slide down the obstacle head first.
During the land warfare phase of training, the students are flown out to San Clemente Island which lies off the coast of San Diego. The waters off San Clemente are a breeding ground for the great white sharks. To pass SEAL training there are a series of long swims that must be completed. One—is the night swim. Before the swim the instructors joyfully brief the trainees on all the species of sharks that inhabit the waters off San Clemente. They assure you, however, that no student has ever been eaten by a shark—at least not recently. But, you are also taught that if a shark begins to circle your position—stand your ground. Do not swim away. Do not act afraid. And if the shark, hungry for a midnight snack, darts towards you—then summons up all your strength and punch him in the snout and he will turn and swim away. There are a lot of sharks in the world. If you hope to complete the swim you will have to deal with them.
So, If you want to change the world, don’t back down from the sharks.
As Navy SEALs one of our jobs is to conduct underwater attacks against enemy shipping. We practiced this technique extensively during basic training. The ship attack mission is where a pair of SEAL divers is dropped off outside an enemy harbor and then swims well over two miles—underwater—using nothing but a depth gauge and a compass to get to their target. During the entire swim, even well below the surface there is some light that comes through. It is comforting to know that there is open water above you. But as you approach the ship, which is tied to a pier, the light begins to fade. The steel structure of the ship blocks the moonlight—it blocks the surrounding street lamps—it blocks all ambient light. To be successful in your mission, you have to swim under the ship and find the keel—the centerline and the deepest part of the ship. This is your objective. But the keel is also the darkest part of the ship—where you cannot see your hand in front of your face, where the noise from the ship’s machinery is deafening and where it is easy to get disoriented and fail. Every SEAL knows that under the keel, at the darkest moment of the mission—is the time when you must be calm, composed—when all your tactical skills, your physical power and all your inner strength must be brought to bear.
If you want to change the world, you must be your very best in the darkest moment.
The ninth week of training is referred to as “Hell Week.” It is six days of no sleep, constant physical and mental harassment and—one special day at the Mud Flats—the Mud Flats are area between San Diego and Tijuana where the water runs off and creates the Tijuana slue’s—a swampy patch of terrain where the mud will engulf you. It is on Wednesday of Hell Week that you paddle down to the mud flats and spend the next 15 hours trying to survive the freezing cold mud, the howling wind and the incessant pressure to quit from the instructors. As the sun began to set that Wednesday evening, my training class, having committed some “egregious infraction of the rules” was ordered into the mud. The mud consumed each man till there was nothing visible but our heads. The instructors told us we could leave the mud if only five men would quit—just five men and we could get out of the oppressive cold. Looking around the mud flat it was apparent that some students were about to give up. It was still over eight hours till the sun came up—eight more hours of bone chilling cold. The chattering teeth and shivering moans of the trainees were so loud it was hard to hear anything and then, one voice began to echo through the night—one voice raised in song. The song was terribly out of tune, but sung with great enthusiasm. One voice became two and two became three and before long everyone in the class was singing. We knew that if one man could rise above the misery then others could as well. The instructors threatened us with more time in the mud if we kept up the singing—but the singing persisted. And somehow—the mud seemed a little warmer, the wind a little tamer and the dawn not so far away. If I have learned anything in my time traveling the world, it is the power of hope. The power of one person—Washington, Lincoln, King, Mandela and even a young girl from Pakistan—Malala—one person can change the world by giving people hope.
So, if you want to change the world, start singing when you’re up to your neck in mud.
Finally, in SEAL training there is a bell. A brass bell that hangs in the center of the compound for all the students to see. All you have to do to quit—is ring the bell. Ring the bell and you no longer have to wake up at 5 o’clock. Ring the bell and you no longer have to do the freezing cold swims. Ring the bell and you no longer have to do the runs, the obstacle course, the PT—and you no longer have to endure the hardships of training. Just ring the bell.
If you want to change the world don’t ever, ever ring the bell.
Start each day with a task completed. Find someone to help you through life. Respect everyone (including your spouse). Know that life is not fair and that you will fail often, but if take you take some risks, step up when the times are toughest, face down the bullies, lift up the downtrodden and never, ever give up. If you do these things, you will live in a world far better than the one you have today and—what started here will indeed have changed your world—for the better.
Me: 43 Her: 37 D: 4 T: 20 years M: 15 years 1st Separation: 12/20/06 Drew up papers for D: 9/15/07 Reconciled: 11/1/07
I guess I have one more thing to write to close out a long day, 13 hours at work and then came and did some stuff to get ready for tomorrow. It's going to be a long day and I have to watch myself with the W, although we probably will have little interaction. My only focus will be on being the best dad I can be to my D.
Something I learned about time my first time DB'ing is that not only is it a gift and one that should be used wisely, it's also something that seems like it will be in abundance but in fact really isn't.
What do I mean?
I went from DB'ing to R in a few short months. I reached a lot of the goals I set out for myself at the time. Some were silly, like I learned to make my own sushi. Some were deadly serious, I maintained my sobriety throughout my S. Some were elementary, I got healthier in both body and mind. But by the time I was back in the R, a lot of my time was put into the M and not into the thing I should have kept working on... me. In retrospect, I think a little fear push me towards the R too soon. I won't make that same mistake twice.
I'm not going to fret about the time this go round. I know a minute feels like an hour, an hour like a day, a day like a week and so on. I'm making an effort to slow down and savor the time I have. That may sound odd giving my predicament but trying to speed up the clock is counterproductive. Hoping the time will pass faster is futile. It's a marathon and not a fifty yard dash and I'm pacing myself for the long haul.
Is it that I don't feel the pain, emptyness and the loss? I do but I'm not going to let them consume me any more. Living under the same roof and trying to work through stuff was harder that being apart. I have absolute clarity now, where before it was all muddy and confusing.
I'm just going to work on being a good ME. And what will be, will be.
Me: 43 Her: 37 D: 4 T: 20 years M: 15 years 1st Separation: 12/20/06 Drew up papers for D: 9/15/07 Reconciled: 11/1/07
