It’s Friday at 6:30 PM and my husband is working late. Not significantly late. Just a few minutes past his normal quitting time – maybe 45 minutes – but later than usual. My logical brain understands why he needs to stay. But the irrational part of my imagination starts rippling and then, like a tidal wave it crashes onto me with overwhelming power.
This big wave of memories brings back all of those horrible thoughts about the not so distant past and my mind immediately tries to convince me he is lying again. Is he on the internet cruising adult friend finder? Is he creating a false email account? Instant messaging with one of his old acting out partners? His computer has parental controls on it, but his employees computers don’t. If they left and he stayed then he has access to an unprotected computer. Maybe he isn’t on the computer at all for fear of it showing up in someone’s history. Maybe he had an “in call” gal come by or went to the bar nearby for a drink with someone with loose boundaries. From here I spiral into where he was yesterday morning. I forgot to check the GPS/find my iPhone to make sure he went to work when he said he did. He mentioned that he had gone to the hardware store on the way in – I didn’t know that because I wasn’t paying close attention. I think about the dinner I had with 2 of my friends the other night – what was to stop him from going to the strip club that is literally 5 minutes away from our house while I was out? He says that the risk of running into a guy from his SAA meetings is the deterrent to walking into a strip club. I’d like to believe that protecting our marriage would be all he needs to stay out of those clubs – but apparently the risk of losing me takes a back seat to that of being found out by someone in his program. Reality check.
All of these scenario’s are possible, which is what makes it so incredibly scary. It’s not just a case of an imagination gone wild – all of these things HAVE happened before. So how do I refocus and trust that it isn’t happening today. Truth be told, it could be, but program says “I didn’t cause it, I can’t cure it and I can’t control it”. So what would my therapist tell me to do in this situation? Self Care, Self Care, Self Care. I never really knew what that was before, or at least I didn’t have any concrete way to practice it. But now I do. Now I write down these sometimes crazy thoughts and feelings and allow the process to ground me. This blog is such a safe and calming place to “go” in these moments. In writing this I am not alone while I wait for him to get home, I am part of something much bigger than my fear fueled imagination.