update...
Well, to update the ongoing saga of Jeff. My wife and I talked about sex the other day, and she feels that I have my priorities confused. I explained all the work I have put into recovery, and that I feel like I am focused just where I need to be. She feels that sex is unimportant, and that if you dont get it, you wont die from it. I explained that I felt that there were very valid reasons to want sex to be part of my life, and that I didnt feel once every couple of weeks was enough. I reasoned that I was being left feeling unloved and unwanted by the lack of intimacy and affection in our lives. I agreed I could take care of the physical release in a matter of minutes in the shower, but that I still needed the emotional support and affection that went along with it. I explained that I felt alone and isolated.
The bottom line is that I came away feeling that as far as she is concerned, I can take it as it is or leave. I guess dealing with addictive sexual issues in our past has left her unwilling to compromise. That is my fault, but it doesnt make the choices facing me any easier. With her unwilling to meet me somewhere in the middle, I have to decide if I can live like this. I guess inside, I already know the answer. It is the most frightening prospect I have ever faced, the idea of walking away from my family. All that keeps running through my mind is that before I can make others happy, I need to take care of my needs so that I can be happy. That is of little comfort.
I have come to believe that I chose a mate while suffering the lingering effects of abuse, and that I made a bad choice. Deborah is a good woman, and if we could start fresh without the tainted past, who knows. I guess I have just used her up over the years. Damn, this recovery stuff is hard sometimes.
The bottom line is that I came away feeling that as far as she is concerned, I can take it as it is or leave. I guess dealing with addictive sexual issues in our past has left her unwilling to compromise. That is my fault, but it doesnt make the choices facing me any easier. With her unwilling to meet me somewhere in the middle, I have to decide if I can live like this. I guess inside, I already know the answer. It is the most frightening prospect I have ever faced, the idea of walking away from my family. All that keeps running through my mind is that before I can make others happy, I need to take care of my needs so that I can be happy. That is of little comfort.
I have come to believe that I chose a mate while suffering the lingering effects of abuse, and that I made a bad choice. Deborah is a good woman, and if we could start fresh without the tainted past, who knows. I guess I have just used her up over the years. Damn, this recovery stuff is hard sometimes.