PART 4: REACHING FOR HELP, REAL HELP

There was a voice inside my head, weak at first, but every time he insulted me, laughed at me, left me in the cold, failed to communicate for weeks, those times I was clear that I had to do something to free myself. I focused on this fantasy of how I WOULD LOVE TO BE. Free, light, not needy, not afraid, productive, tuned in to my kids, tuned in to life, be alone without him being my baseline, do something without being motivated by his approval. I couldn't fathom it becoming real...but I trusted that somewhere, someone MIGHT help me stop the pain of dreaming to be with him like we used to be in the beginning.

I was scared shitless. Why?
1) I had made the promise I would never tell and put him in peril
2) He forbade me to see a therapist.
3) What if I put my trust in a new therapist, then the therapist couldn't really help me, what if I would be even worse off than now?
4)What if the new therapist found out who he was, then told him and he called me crazy to protect himself and then she believed him and dismissed me?
5) No one really respects a "whistleblower"
6) What if people said, "well, you are an adult, you knew what you were getting into, it was consensual. And he has done so much for so many, he's helped thousands of people, what have you really done? He's a gifted healer, what are you?, And now you want to ruin all his work, make a parody of his life and his contributions?"
7) What if he told everyone I was lying?
8) IF I went to a new therapist, I would have to lie to him to keep him. If I lied to him, then I would be a liar. Not only did I hold too many secrets, now I was going to be a liar...to him. Or else I would have to tell him, even worse.
9)If I was cured, I would lose him forever....forever.....FOREVER. And then....what is on the other side for me? Will my months be filled with unending, unendurable loneliness. Would I be overcome with loss, grieving, deep sadness, darkness, and utter despair? Not a good switch .

BUT
I knew I couldn't go on hoping, reaching, reacting, crying, living secrets, debasing myself, needing nothing from him but wanting everything, trying hourly, but dying a little every day. I just wanted the pain, no matter the cause, to
JUST
STOP.

So, I found a new therapist. Not just any therapist, but one of his colleagues - a woman who had top notch morals, she was tough, and her therpay abilities were excellent. I told her my situation, not naming names. But she guessed, and I am was relieved. NOW There was no going back.

IT took over a year, it took hours and hours of hard painful work to let him go. I had to go back to my relationship to my father to actually heal from my original problems, to heal from him. She taught me how to handle my own triggers, on my own, to not be dependent on her. I grieved as if this lover, this ex-therapist were my one and only mate of a hundred years. It felt as if I was losing a part of me, I mean really like my heart was dying. But I had to lose him over and over during this therapy because he wasn't gone, he wasn't dead. The only thing keeping me from him was my own mind. He was there, I could reach out anytime.

When I was getting over him it was if I had grieved a death, but then I would resurrect him, because all I had to do was email him and he would meet me for an EPIC date, and then he would came back to life and all the pain would be gone, but then he'd be an ***. Then, then I would call my new therapist and metaphorically speaking, kill him again (so to speak) and again he died, then came back to life, then again he died...over and over. It was nothing like a ghost, it was like resurrection, rebirth, relief, new pain, and another death. It took 4 months of curtain calls. On the last day I ever saw him, that was a year ago. His last words to me were, "I miss you already, I can't wait to see you again." then He said, "Wait, I want to give you a something" He went to his bedroom took out a gorgeous indian shawl, put it lovingly around my shoulders and kissed me. " He said, "Call me soon, okay?"

YeaH, I knew it was the last time the entire day, he didn't. So at his last words I smiled. Kissed him back and left for my made up dinner date. It was a Saturday 5 pm. Why was I leaving so soon in the day after spending 50 fabulous, wonderful, amazing hours alone just with him, on the heels of 2 days earlier in the week? Oh, didn't I tell you? He had a date with his ex-wife that he hadn't really divorced because divorce was just a piece of paper. You see, she called and reminded him they had a dinner date (every Saturday), oh, and Friday he left while we were together to pick her up at the airport, he looked so sad because she didn't invite him....Well, you know, she's like a sister to him, they own a house in California together where they go off to for weeks and he has pictures on his cell phone of her cleavage of her in bed, but they are just friends, and well, the dinner was already planned, but he didn't mention it to me until 3 pm that day. The same old story. They use the same housekeeper, same gardners, same handyman, same dinners, they swap furniture like beds, they go to concerts together, she calls at 9 pm and he always answers, they share so many memories, even Valentine's day (the one where he was with me, she was out of town). Well..... **** him

...and so I wrapped the warm shawl around my arms, graciously said thank you, asked if it was mine to keep, and he hugged me and said it was made for me and only me. I smiled sweetly and drove away from him and his pack of lies. It was our last final, final day. And then all I hoped for was the strength to never see him again.

------

That day took me several years to get to. It was the hardest thing I ever have done and I COULD NEVER EVER have done it alone. I paid the new therapist a years worth of fees to get over him, thousands of dollars. She was worth every dime. But, Deep down I feel like he should have paid that fee back and added a generous tip. I sent him an email saying I wished I had never met him, that I regretted our relationship -- he told me I was lying to myself, that I had said all these other things about loving him forever. I told him that this therapist knew about him, that my now reconciled and recently emotionally functional husband knew about the affair as well. I told him that I would hold no secrets for him any longer. I told him I had been in horrible pain from the relationship, it was not a good thing. I wanted to hear from him that he was sorry that he hurt me. Well, he only said he was sorry THAT I was in so much pain.

In our relationship he was never forthcoming about his private private life, although wasn't I supposed to be his lover, confidante, best friend, why did I feel like I was one of 4 or 5? The marriage thing he talked about was a fantasy of his, and I realized he counted on the fact that I would never tell anyone about us. He never counted on me becoming well and strong and healthy -- and that is my greatest achievement to date. It's not the album, not the galleries. With emotional health comes greater and real connection with those we love, and to the world around us.

Not true for unhealthy dependence.

That sort of dependence is like hanging onto someone else while trying to keep afloat in a stormy ocean...you can only do it for so long before one or both of you collapse.