The Fight For Self Forever

[CT1118]

Thanks all. I want to move all forward from where I struggled. I owe much to many. If it helps, that is my goal: I learn so that I may teach, so that I may learn...got it? Comments welcome, but please take these errors into the self.

This is not what I would have chosen for my second paradigm shift lesson, but its important, most here lie about it. Spying. Spying...[breath exhales.....wish I could run away...but I was bread to fight].

Stop. Oh yeah, it's that easy. Oopps, sarcasm on the advice when you arrive. To stop spying is to stop the mainline heroin of the LBS for most of us. To pretend like we don't, or we did and now we don't, or that we didn't and now we won't...yeah...I'm gonna go with most of us did, do, and continue, until we release ourselves from that sht. And it is sht. My story with it, in brief...(hint, it won't be brief, I rarely am ).

First, a true story, in 2005 I went to my doctor and told him I wanted to quit smoking. He responded by saying, "why? there are a lot of benefits to smoking." Shocked - of course I was. "I did not expect that answer." The answer is why I still see this guy to this day..., "You want me to tell you there is a pill to make it all go away? You want me to tell you that you are ready? You're not. You will know when you are, only you will know when you are. If you were, this entire conversation would have begun with a different tone, but it didn't. I know you, I know your job - you are under stress, come back to me when you are serious. Don't tell me what you want to do, tell m what you have done."

Spying.Stop it now. Stop lying about it. Stop lying half way about it. So easy right. Are you addicted to it? Do you need it? Actually the last question was rhetorical, you are - the only way out is to sweat it out. I know that social media does not block a person, it blocks an account...and you can make another.

My story (beginning one year ago):

I spy with my little eye, a wife of mine on social media with another guy. I spy with my little eye, a wife blocking her husband from the social stye. I spy with my little eye, a husband digging through trash - digital and otherwise. I spy with my little eye, a husband feeling put in a position to discover a lie.

And then I did, and then I BD'pped, and then we separated, and then I did not feel compelled to spy for months. And then I spy'ed with my little eye, that my WW lied about still seeing the OM guy. And then I found DB. DB told me to stop - wow, I actually did. Until two months later when my son told me his mom's OM was sleeping there thru the night. Then my spying took on a NAVY SEAL effort...I mean, I had to make a power point for the lawyers so that I could win it all in the fight...didn't I? I had to do that right? Right! Seriously.....right???? Seriously, RIGHT!!!!!!!!......seriously, did I??????

Hey, that's the best I could paint it in words and punctuation that I could think of. I did not have to do that. It tore my soul open and tried to use concrete as substitute for limbs. Picture an old tree where someone filled a cavity with concrete. The tree dies and that concrete remains. Its not the ghost of a real life, its the adamant remains of what could have been a perfectly good ghost. Instead, instead, you just have the remnant of what could have been a perfectly good ghost.

When I thought I had enough, enough for the potential future lawyers, the lawyers I had not met, I did stop. Then came holiday. Specifically, Thanksgiving. I knew I would find it. I knew at the holiday I would find the golden grail: for me, for the lawyers I have yet to meet, for the yet unfought war over my son...for the truth of all of the sadness I would ever want to feel, that I did not know, that I thought I could know, for the ultimate judgement of her - for what I discovered was the ultimate judgement of the self. I found it. I found a picture of her, with the OM's family, and she looked so fake she looked like she felt sick, and I felt so guilty that I felt sick. I felt so sick that I was sick. And this was the end of my spying. I found all I could take. All that sex talk chit I saw when I first found what I found in a cold February of 2016, when I first discovered, when I first knew...that was nothing. It was nothing. It meant nothing.

It meant nothing compared to when I saw her face, her face beside his face, and when I knew her face beside his, her face that was not real, beside his face that was. And then I fking died inside myself with guilt. Not for her, not for me, but because I had quit, I had been cured, I was so far beyond all of that, but I felt the need for one last fix, and then I overdosed.

If you learn one thing form the story above, learn this. When my eye laid in silence upon that picture of her with him and them both with his family; once the visual became audible, it was not her beauty which died, it was mine. I did not have to do that, I brought that and I bought that...for me. I sold out the self. I sold my self out for a moment of gotcha, and I fking got me.

And so I decided. I had already let go. I had already detached. I had already wanted to forgive. But I had not done so. See, our stories are not over until they are over. I chose to go looking for an ending, rather than to let it write itself. Don't follow my tracks in the snow. If given the choice, I would have chosen a different lesson from my journey for the second piece of this fight for self forever, but if the DB forum has earned anything first, the first it has earned is honesty.

Take this and run, but not away, run into you. My hat is tipped and I bow in respect to all who hear this.