The Bridge?

Where the smile of flamboyant scenery,

And the embrace of elaborate panoramic landscapes arouses expectations.

The many expressions of distant audacious horizons

That thrills all senses with consuming hope and courage…

…Captivates us from the Bridge.

The Tunnel?

Buried in the deepest oceans, or through mountainous terrains.

Daylight is out there but it’s dark, not alone, but it’s lonely.

 connected but cut off, sight, but cannot see.

Freedom from the brick wall around is available, but its inaccessibility…

…Overwhelms us from the Tunnel.

For most of the time I chose to walk the bridge. The least attention I gave the tunnel, where all the Grey One’s disorders were, the better it was for both of us. Suspicion was my tunnel, constantly pulling me down with its weight on my mental and emotional strength. Therefore there were times it demanded far more from me than I wanted to give it.

I made an intentional decision as far as I was emotionally able, to position myself and enjoy each day on the bridge. There the scenery is good and full, it’s high, long and wide, bursting with expectation. My big wonderful family and many precious friends and a career I loved were on the bridge.

It was on this preferred road that I was able to strengthen my resilience. To be real I crumbled many times in private. When there was no option other than to take time in the tunnel of despair. When suspicions where high, followed by exposures, confrontations and the temporary bodged repair after every one of the Grey One’s addictive exposures.

For the most time I was able to stay on the security of the bridge of hope.

I had to find a way to survive the torment without losing a grip on my mind.

I learned to focus on what was positive and good, I was determined to not lose myself in the pain.

Attitude and gratitude were my survival kit. I refused to allow the Grey One to steal my smile, or trade my thankfulness for bitterness.

I have lived a blessed, full and mainly a happy life, with lots of laughs and good memories.

I have had a few bad days, but not a bad life, some broken dreams, but there are more dreams. I am suffering relationship breakdown, but I have many good healthy relationships with more good ones ahead!

This doesn’t make me much different to most other people.

I can honestly say I do not regret marrying the Reverend, I would marry him again, but not the Grey One; he would be evicted with immediate effect, if I had my time over again.

The secrets that began to unfold over the next few years were far more serious.

There was evidence of parties and clubs, still much worse was yet to come. I began to find emails and text messages of meeting arrangements. If they were in the past there was nothing I could do, but if they were in the future I would do my utmost to make sure they didn’t happen.

The Grey One despised the light, he detested meeting the lovely other one of himself, if their worlds collided, it made him very uncomfortable and angry, because they exist in conflict with each other.

They are incompatible; it would be impossible to coexist in agreement.

They are at war and the Reverend is weak against the scheming Grey One.

I was the only one who could force them to face each other, it wasn’t pretty. No one else knew there was two of him, two completely different and opposing identities in one person, in my husband.

I challenged the Reverend on every opportunity. I had never let anything go without confrontation, and it made us both weary.

We are now in the area where he met the women he is involved with. He risked everything for her, always believing he would get away with having his cake and eating it. Continuing to believe I would never expose him, but how much more did he ever consider I could take.

On more than one occasion he arrived home after three am. I was at a loss of the energy to survive.

I knew he had been with her, without even knowing she existed at the time, because his reason for being so late didn’t make any sense.

It was a Saturday evening I saw an email on his computer, I find it unfathomable that he could engage with extra marital sexual connections on his phone or laptop at the same time as preparing to preach the gospel to a congregation the following morning!

I figure it was just another aspect of his addiction and dissociative disorder that it became central to his character after many years of practice.

He was by then numb to the impact on his conscience.

This discovery started a volatile row between us, the anger in me raged.

If there had been a gun in the house one of us may have been shot that night

I threw whatever I could grab to throw at him and they weren’t clothes off the banister this time and we have never laughed about this. It was a very dark and sinister war between us.

Not while I was out this time, but still without warning, I watched him pack his car with some clothes and toiletries to leave me again. He was going to email a colleague to ask him to cover him the next day. This provoked the expected response, he knew I would not want him to leave, I begged, yes, can you believe it I begged him not to leave me, as this was still my greater fear.

Far greater was my fear of being alone than the primary cause of all my fears.

He really could not manage his two identities when they clashed with each other. When I exposed the Grey One to the light of day the Reverend was unable to master him.

I couldn’t master him either, but I could manage him. I had learned through past experiences that my anger and emotional stress made it impossible for the Reverend to manage his duel identities when I had proof of the Grey One’s existence.

I knew what to do. I was able to steer the atmosphere, to enable the Grey One to escape back into the shade.

As well as the Reverend, I too needed him back the basement, in this moment.

The Past…

It occurred, and cannot be altered.

Though it should be left in the past, make your peace with it.

Reconcile with those who hurt you, as well as those you hurt.

Otherwise it will destroy your future.

I wasn’t interested in my own career path, I was delighted to support my husbands calling, we were in it together, a team, I was more than happy and satisfied to fulfil a voluntary role,

I loved what we did. We simply loved people, flaws and all.

I expected no less than retiring together following a long and successful career.

It was a greater value to be fulfilled than to earn extra money.

I have had part time jobs in the past for extra funds for holidays and Christmas, but then I was not aware that the Grey One might use the time I was out at work on occasions for his addictions.

By now I knew it was possible. I could discern that to be a reality one day. If it hadn’t happened already, it was only a matter of time. And I could not bear the thought of managing suspicion at that level.

Both times He left me, it was while I was at work, so my mind was shaped to believe he would do it again following an argument or prolonged conflict between us. I understood what was expected from the Grey One, in the portrayal of my role in the drama called our marriage. I was still likely to veer out of character when provoked beyond my ability to remain true to cast.

Most of the time I played the party line of challenging the Grey One, talking it through, there would be an apology if I remained calm. Subject closed. Move on, until the next upset.

Subtly and slowly I was accepting my husbands deep flaws with composure, but not tolerance, towards the Grey One.

Occasionally I would search the car, just to see what I could find. These searches whether it was the car, or his pockets or his computer, were because I would intuitively suspect when the Grey One had escaped the control of the Reverend.

I would long to not find any evidence to confirm my suspicion. I always did.

Nothing shocked me anymore, little did I know that the Grey One had not reached his limits. There were far more harrowing episodes to come.

I can recognise him in an instant, when things appear grey that is where he pervades, in the grey area, where things are not clear or not quite making sense. The non-committal middle ground between reason and irrational is where the Grey One’s influence is at it’s most persuasive.

I believed I had rescued the Reverend from the latest intentions of the Grey One.

There were two specific dreams I remember and one interesting occurrence, all within the same few months.

I dreamt we were at a wedding, a significant family wedding.

When the photographs were developed, the Reverend and I were completely naked… On the front row, surrounded by family and friends. You may laugh… We did!

It wasn’t wasted on me. I knew exactly what the dream interpretation was. I didn’t need to mention it to anyone else.

Nakedness equals nothing hidden, no secrets, nothing covered up and all the flaws are revealed. The photograph of someone or something in print is called an exposure. In the process of development, a film is exposed to light. An exposure is the disclosure of something that cannot be seen prior to exposure. Or the intensity of light on a film. Also being ‘abandoned’ without covering means being exposed and vulnerable.

Then the Reverend dreamt that he was in our bathroom attempting to clean up the filthy stinking waste that was overflowing from the toilet. The more he tried to clean it away the worse the mess overflowed, he was on his knees in his own excretion, desperate that no one would see the mess he was in. I am sure I don’t need to share the interpretation here. It was obvious.

Oh how we were warned!

Then a few months later, in real life this time, not a dream. I saw a frog on my front door step at three different times. I was leaving the house to go out and there it would be, on my doorstep. I mentioned it to a friend humerously, as it was so very unusual for this to happen three times in the same place, within a few days.

Instantaneously, my friend responded.

“Maybe it’s a sign your Prince will come”.

Earlier I wrote that I felt like the Princess got her Prince. A heavenly kiss, is what it will take to get him back…?

I miss when he holds me tight

hugs in the middle of the night

making up after a fight

when he says “It will be alright”

when he tells me i am beautiful

that my skin is so soft

the ping on my phone

A text to say “on my way home”

the sound of his key in the door

the love of my life walking mud on the floor

the leap inside at the sound of his voice

his company of familiar noise

the smile in his eyes as he sees my face

the silly big wave

that makes me giggle

as the man in the middle

feels out of place

he makes a good cup of tea

my husband

a unique brand

my right hand

Pornography should be assumed as a ‘possible’ area of conflict in the history of men and women. It may only have been an unintentional glimpse as a vulnerable child or young adult but shame locks it away by silence.

This is a unseen war against one of the most beautiful areas of life. It is growing underneath the surface of successful and respectable people, within their intimate relationships.

Pornography is normal in the lifestyles of our children and young people. It is a common understanding that most children will have viewed pornography by a very young age. (See previous blog on dangers of the Internet)

In ten, fifteen years or more, today’s young people will be our fathers and mothers. They will be our politicians and spiritual leaders, educational, welfare and health professionals who were never able to master their demons.

The Internet is internationally valued and helpful in our developed world for educational, professional and social enterprise. If unwisely left to the discretion of children without strong boundaries of its use and an understanding of the dangers, it will become a most devaluing and destructive tool.

This is proved through the rise of cyber bullying, and particularly young teens posting inappropriate pictures of themselves online either at the request of another, or to simply win the affections of others.

Such photos are then used as blackmail for sexual favours with the threat of their photograph being spread among others if they refuse.

Already these situations are resulting in mental illness and in some cases, suicide. It will continue to wreak havoc on society in its most intimate form.

It will attack its victims in the very places of safety and security. In the bedroom, the classroom among family and friends.

Silently and slowly releasing it’s poison from the end of fingertips, with direct access to the mind and emotions. Vanquishing all pre warnings of danger, by the young adults who are out to prove the world they know better than their overbearing parents and out dated educators.

I continued to keep Reverend Grey’s secrets and bury the truth. I became blinded by his lies. I was still very much in love with him, giving myself to marriage, family and our vocation. I was careful to keep our lovely children in blissful ignorance of the truth behind the scenes of their parents’ private life that we amazingly survived for many years.

It had been a long time since any evidence of the Grey One, he was virtually forgotten – but he wasn’t gone!

Live your life for what tomorrow offers not for what yesterday took from you.

During this period of my life I started to feel valued for more than being a wife and mother. I felt worth for being me. I grew confident to believe in myself. 

Self-belief is a fragile virtue that is so easily stolen from us, usually in our childhood or youth. We can be so troubled regarding our individuality when we are young that we conform to what’s expected from us. We fear standing out from the crowd, so we become like everyone else. It can take decades to build up confidence and regain our core worth and identity. Self belief is a regular battle in my head.

Whenever the Grey One’s arousals resurfaced, to crave his longed for gratification and compulsion, the Reverend was powerless against him. The Grey One’s needs had to be satisfied.

Following a period of abstinence from the addictions, the Grey One always returned stronger and more reckless than he had ever been previously!

As expected it wasn’t long before I recognised the he was back with force! With all of the signs of emails, text messages, working long hours, late nights, on line connections, pornographic pictures etc.

The Reverend didn’t always need a prompt or a thought from the ignoble Grey One to open the door of choice to him. Pop ups would impose themselves without invitation or warning, appearing before his eyes, under his nose as he spent hours looking into a screen.

His computer screen was often positioned where no one could see it. We still used the same computer, the Reverend would eventually forget to close down windows after he used it and I would see everything. I would always check his Internet activity.

I noticed the same person kept appearing in a text message on his phone. I didn’t know her, she was around for quite a while…