Two months

The first two months after discovery are blurry in my memory, for good reason!  They were a real roller coaster, full of bad behavior.  Husband blamed me for whatever he could.  I nagged.  I tried to force him to change.  He yelled.  He told me he didn't have psychological problem, just a sexual one.  When I would nag, he would seem to respond, but it would not last.  He'd act like he was learning more about addiction, or getting more serious in therapy, but only for a day or two. He told me I was uptight about testing for STIs, and about using protection.  He couldn't understand why I wouldn't have unprotected sex with him.

The part that scared me was when I started to agree with his craziness. I'd have a moment of "well, maybe it isn't that big of a deal." Then, I would freak out that I could ever think such a thing.  I concluded that not only was his version of reality seriously skewed, but that it was much stronger than mine.  I don't have to spend a lot of time constructing and defending my understanding of reality, ethics, relationships, etc.  He, on the other hand, had years of practice doing just that.  He had carefully built up a version of reality where his actions were not only OK, they were exemplary.  I was not going to break through those defenses. 

I concluded that I could not live with this.  I made a plan to leave.  I arranged to stay with someone for two months.  I figured that would be enough time to figure out if I should go back, or get an apartment.  I was 100% sure of my decision.  I told a few people, but was careful about it because I didn't want to tell Husband until I actually left. 

Just before I moved out, I found COSA. That first meeting was the most amazing, comforting thing I have ever experienced.  I will always remember who was at that meeting, and how comforting it was to hear their stories and to tell mine.  I wish I had better words to describe it. 

The story of moving out requires it's own post.  More to come...