I'm calling this photo Buttrayal. The evidence remained, not on this comforter, but on the photos she and her lover took, which I discovered 10 years later on a green 8mb memory chip that I had found, and because I'm such a computer geek, didn't throw away when I originally found it in the spare bedroom with an old 9600 baud modem and some 5 and 1/2 inch floppies. At the time I found it, I had no idea what was on it; in fact, I didn't even own a digital camera that had memory chips like that and had no way to even look at the chip, so I set it in a drawer. This past November 2010 was when I found it, which was a little more than 10 years after I left the woman. It was almost comical in a tragic way. At first I thought I had found a porn chip in a gay neighborhood, because the first four shots were of a man, but then we came to the woman. There were no faces, but just this comforter beneath the x-rated action shots. The Universe loves irony.

On Labor Day Weekend, I made my 6th pilgrimage to the CoDA Retreat at Bishop Lane Retreat House near Rockford, Illinois, my first being the 2005 retreat at the same location and on the same weekend. The CoDA retreat coincides with the weekend that I regained my sanity when I literally walked away from an abusive wife and a very unhealthy relationship. I consider the Labor Day Weekend as the beginning of my spiritual year. I regained my sanity when I left her 10 years ago and began my journey down Recovery Road.

I've come to realize that had she not been as cruel and self-absorbed as she was I would never have learned that codependency and low self-esteem had been driving my behaviors. I would never have acknowledged that I was sick, for why would any self-respecting person remain in a situation where he is abused and mistreated. I would never have begun my recovery work. With this knowledge and years of therapy and working my program, I am grateful for where I am now. My desperation to change my behavior, for I had recognized how sick I must have been to have stayed in the relationship and married a woman who I did not like, offered me new tools and a rule book for the road I am traveling. I have had 10 years of reprogramming myself.

All of my relationships are healthier now. My relationship with my Higher Power is a partnership of trust and faith. My relationship with myself is healthier than it has ever been. I go to my meetings regularly to keep me grounded in the 12 Step fellowship, which guides and grounds me, as I focus on developing and maintaining healthy relationships with others. I've made new friends and I live in my own truth, while allowing others the same opportunity. My thinking is no longer fear based or other based. I practice identifying my needs. I allow myself to feel my feelings. I am comfortable in my own skin. I never used to be, but I am now. And all of these changes came as a result of my path through Hell, for that is what my marriage was.

I no longer hate or revile her. I have forgiven her for being as damaged as she was, which she brought into our relationship.

What's significant about this photo is that my ex-wife (not pictured) tossed out all of my scrapbooks and photo albums, including the one that had my high school prom picture. My cousin's oldest daughter is getting married in two months, so the cousins are digging into our boxes of old photos for pictures of us when we were kids, as well as pics of our aunts and uncles, many of whom have left us. We've been digging up treasures in these boxes that we are sharing. My cousin Rickie sent this photo of my prom date, Barbara and me, that she had in some box. So at least the visual record of that memory, destroyed by my vindictive ex-wife, has been resurrected.

Whether you initiated it or your former mate ended the relationship, or it was a mutual agreement terminating the connection, the marriage is over. If you need to play the blame game, do it and let go of it for awhile, but don't get stuck on blame. It keeps you stuck in the past. It does not matter. That chapter of your life has ended. If you need to grieve, do so, but don't hang onto something that either was a falsehood or an illusion, or not quite what you thought it was. Even if you are beginning to realize or admit that it really was worse than you allowed yourself to believe it was, the reality is that it is over. So now see it for what it was and start rebuilding your life. You can regain your sanity and reclaim your life, which you must know is yours to live, to enjoy, to feel and experience to its fullest. You did not start the journey with that other person, so now move on and live your life and realize some of your other dreams.

A couple months ago, as I was putting my groceries in my car, a person in the car right next to me leaned over and through the passenger side window asked if I was ____________ and seeing that I was trying to attach a name to her face, she mentioned her first name. She was one of my ex-sisters-in-law, and sitting next to her was her daughter, who by then was 11. Because my ex-wife was estranged from most of the immediate world, especially her family, I had never seen my niece, kind of a miracle child, because she was their first and only child conceived late in life. We talked awhile and I waited for my ex-brother-in-law to come out of the supermarket. He was doing the shopping, and I wanted to say hello to him. My ex-sister-in-law hadn't seen my ex-wife in over 15 years she said. But she told me about the children of another ex-sister-in-law, another niece and nephews, and how well they were doing. It warmed my heart to hear good new, especially where I had other expectations.

There was a warmth I felt in connecting, even briefly with inherited family, and a sadness as well. It did not dredge up a lot of thoughts about my ex-wife, as I expected it might. Nonetheless, this sister-in-law was the first person in my former extended family that I had seen in a little over 7 years, even though several of them live in this part of the city.

I don't know why I've waited a few months to write about this. There have been a few dreams with my ex-wife in the last few weeks. Not bad dreams at all. Actually, good dreams. I guess I do miss her, especially around the holidays. I know it sounds trite, but I guess time marches on, but memories persist.

Another phone call from the X. This time she wanted to share some "good news" about a character that I had helped her develop for her comedy routine. I was happy for her, thanked her for sharing the information, and said, "Take care." And then hung up. I wasn't filled with the anxiety and temporary loss of my inner tranquility that I had experienced past times. In fact, minutes after I hung up, I continued doing what I had been doing and within a few minutes forgot that she had called. I think I'm finally healthy.

Six years ago, this absolutely beautiful woman was my wife and nemesis. I walked away from the marriage because it was the worst experience in my life. I went through 5 years of therapy and have been going to Codependents Anonymous to get my head back together. Actually, my head never was together. If it had been, I would not have allowed myself to be blinded by her good looks, never would have sacrificed my happiness for a trophy wife. Actually, she was always this beautiful, but I never appreciated her looks. I refused to appease her insecurities. We used to argue over what was more important -- image or substance. Strangely, I believed substance was more important, but have always been drawn to looks, forsaking my beliefs for physical satisfaction and ego. I certainly paid for this character defect of mine.

Four years ago on April 30, I stood before a judge with my lawyer to my right, my soon to be ex-wife's lawyer to my lawyer's right, and then my wife to her right. The painful, expensive, unjust legal process that would finally sever all fiduciary responsibilities to her would end after she received from me what I considered as blood money, a tax free settlement for having raised bitch to an art form. Perhaps, knowing that today was the day might account for the sexual dream I had about her last night. She was attempting to seduce me, and I resisted, but not entirely, and woke up in a cold sweat. Briefly, I was conscious, before going back to sleep, that I was so happy that it was only a dream.

Had I remained married, Thursday, April 13 would have been my 10 year anniversary. The night before, I dreamt of her and my old pooch. It's befitting that they both were in the same dream, because some of my happiest days were long before we got married, when we lived in a 3rd floor apartment. I would come home from a day of work, having taken public transportation, and there I'd be walking down the block with my girl friend and dog waiting on the steps in front of our building. Both would greet me with love and warmth. Things changed. Drastically. So, now 5 1/2 years after I left her abuse and cruelty, 4 years after the actual divorce was decreed in a court of law, I am recovered enough to have seen her in a dream and awoke without it having felt like a nightmare. I still do not want to see her or talk to her, because it would serve no purpose. We cannot recapture the past. And the most recent past with her was a nightmare.

Today I did my 5th Step with my friend Stuart, who was very patient and graciously sat through my “4th Step Confessions”. My 4th Step took me well over two years of self-examination, first using a 4th step template that I took from my CoDA Blue Book, which I worked on periodically and then brought to my therapy sessions. This became my primary focus during my last 2 years of biweekly therapy. And then monthly sessions. I shared these 16 pages of personal inventory with my friend and fellow codependent Stuart. Stu has been going to various 12 Step Programs for 30 years, and has been going to the same CoDA meeting that I attend for the past 5 years, about 4 months less than I, plus he is a good friend, and he is the person who introduced me to my ex-wife.

Hearing myself relate the dynamics of my life, my shortcomings and deficits, my growth and desires to work on recovery, continuing reprogramming myself and facing myself honestly, hearing myself share this and let it go was cathartic. Like a burden had been lifted, and now I could move on in my recovery, in my program.
My "sharing" took about 90 minutes. Afterwards, he congratulated me, and then we sat and talked before going to Reza's for lamb shank and coos-coos.

A few days ago, I attempted to talk about some of the good qualities of my ex-wife, but much of my hurt and pain and bitterness still oozed through like an unhealed wound. So let me try again. One of her finest moments was when we invited Joe, my upstairs neighbor, to Thanksgiving Dinner. At the time, Joe had recently ended a bad marriage and was alone. So we invited him and some of our family to share Thanksgiving with us. It was quite a meal, and the warmth we shared was beautiful. Whenever my ex-wife was able to forget about herself and consider others, her beauty radiated. That's when I most loved her inside out. But those times were few and far between, and the last few years of living with her selfish madness and cruelty allows me not to miss her for more than a few minutes.

I've written about what a cruel and mean spirited woman my ex-wife was, and probably still is, unless she has received some intense therapy or undergone some spritual transformation. Tonight I'm feeling generous, feeling like I might identify some of the positive attributes that she had and some of the lessons I learned from her.

I've mentioned how she trained me to be "a perfectly unhappy gentleman". The sarcasm, I hoped, was not misunderstood. To be berated at a restaurant table for walking in front of her to the table, or to be reprimanded like a child for not remembering other examples of etiquette or protocol was to be diminished to the status of uncooperative student in Madame X's finishing school. Granted, these lessons have served me well in that the women I date now tell me I'm a perfect gentleman, but I did not marry the woman to be trained by her. And although she might have presented an air of sophistication, in the trenches she behaved like an ill-bred floozie. Her life was a drama based on attracting men and showing up women. She needed to attract most of my friends to her, and when each responded in kind, she told me that all of my friends came onto her. I was supposed to reject numerous friend because they couldn't be trusted. I knew who I couldn't trust.

I had seen her in action. From wearing a skin tight spandex dress with no panties, so my "male colleagues would be jealous" she told me after a visit to my school (I would have preferred modesty) to running up to my dear friend C and jumping into his arms, wrapping her legs about him. This display embarrassed him, he later told me, and he did not know how to respond. Oh my trophy girl was a real work of art.

She was an expert at networking and self-promotion. From her I learned how to make contacts who could help me at some other time and place. Shmooz with them, make them know how interested you are in what they do, share your number and email with them and get theirs. Organize this, categorize it. And use them as the resource you thought they might be when you need to. And certainly don't deny yourself any opportunity. I learned that from her. I watched her operate. And she did operate. Unfortunately, I was just another person who could be used and manipulated, until I was driven away by her raving madness.

A milestone in my recovery approaches. On Labor Day Weekend, which will be exactly 5 years since I regained my sanity, I will be attending a CoDA retreat. The old adage, "Time heals all" does not necessarily apply here. This has required a lot of hard work, first in accepting that I was completely helpless and at my lowest point in my life, accepting responsibility for remaining in an unhealthy and dysfunctional relationship/marriage, and second, that I needed help to change myself. I had a lifetime of low self-esteem and codependent behaviors, so reteaching myself healthier behaviors was something I could not do all alone (Step 2 of CoDA or any 12 Step Program). I'm excited by the prospect of attending a CoDA retreat and more so on this specific weekend.

At the end of our meeting we look to the person to our left and say, "Take my hand and together we will make it." This starts with the leader of that evening's meeting and passes around until the circle is complete. Then, still holding hands, we say the serenity prayer: "God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference." We continue with "Keep coming back; it works if you work it, and you are worth it." This is a powerful and positive affirmation.

In a sense, CoDA is my religion in that I practice it religiously and find great spiritual comfort in its principles, affirmations, and the fellowship.

I am working on forgiveness, starting with myself. I must forgive myself for being so lost and for accepting the role of victim. I understand that I was addicted to this other person and that she was not a healthy person for me to be with.

Five years ago was another lifetime.

Guess who called me this morning to tell me she found my security blanket and wanted to arrange to return it. That sinking feeling washed over me again. I even called my Aunt Adeline, my favorite aunt, and told her about the call. She, of course, knows about the special attachment I had to my "tickle" blanket. Jokingly, I mentioned that I slept with it until I had my bar mitzvah, when I became a man. , and she nearly choked, because it isn't much of an exaggeration. I was like Linus. I told her that I had made my peace with never seeing it again, when it was among the many things taken from me before the divorce. So we decided that it's best that I ignore the call.

The following was added and post-dated to complete the events of this episode:

By the next day, after a day of consternation and high anxiety over how to respond, I sent my X an email. In it, I explained that I had made peace with those things that I no longer had, that I had moved on. But I said, of course, I'd like my blanket back and asked that she ship it and that I'd reimburse her for the shipping charges. I, also, asked her not to call me, ever.

I had mentioned that I would return to her the item she had forgotten, a foot wide photo of her 25 year high school reunion, which I did send off to her several days later.

After my email, I received email from her, in which she said that she, too, had moved on, now that she was engaged, she, too had moved on.

Needless to say, I never received my security blanket. I hope she makes her new husband as happy as she made me.

Once again for the umpteenth time I found myself relating the story of my horrible marriage to someone, while reading to them Divorce and the Man Who Regained His Sanity and Other Poems, some post marriage autobiographically cathartic poetry. When this occurs I feel like Coleridge's Ancient Mariner, driven to find someone to confess the tale of his sin, before he can continue on his way. It is at these moments when the story must be told. The person must be more than attentive; he must be spellbound.

She called again. Today. The last contact was eight months ago. I don't seek her out, except in my dreams, over which I have no control. There is nothing she could say or do to change what she means to me. Yet, had I not gone through the Hell that she was, I would not be as healthy as I am today. And as much as I want to feel the love I once felt for her, I must remember she is poisonous.

Post-marriage life is great. It's not that now I'm off getting laid and living in the fast lane; it's that the work on myself I started when I escaped the succubus-wife continues to bear sweet fruit. More exactly, I work my 12 step program, CoDA, which has become my religion and I feel real good about myself. I've made new friends, rekindled old friendships, and generally enjoy the company of friends, male and female. As a result of my therapy and readings, my levels of awareness about my behaviors and patterns are heightened. I have the tools and wherewithal to correct behaviors that are not constructive or healthy. Thus, I feel more comfortable in my own skin than ever before. I now set and maintain healthy boundaries and I'm not ashamed or reluctant to set limits and challenge anyone who attempts to violate my boundaries. I am learning to understand intimacy as a growing closeness that I have with female friends and companions. I used to believe intimacy was directly related to sex. I know better now.

Last night, the X kept popping up in my dreams, so I know that she isn't completely out of my system. I cannot control my sub-conscious, only my conscious. I've made a conscious decision to keep my distance from her. She called last March, just before my birthday to wish me a happy birthday, and let me know if I needed a friend that I could call on her. I was polite, but I did ask her not to call again. She's really whacked to think I'd ever want to share any part of my life with her. Not my time, not a conversation, nothing more than a nod you'd offer a passing stranger on the street out of politeness.

She called me a little more than a week ago, the ex-wife, and as usual the red flags popped up. This was the third post-divorce call from her at work (she doesn't have my new phone number). She called me a year ago to let me know that she was leaving town and that she was going to be in Barbershop 2. I don't know why she thinks that anything in her life would concern me. Would I want to discuss a tumor that I had surgically removed? Then she called me the day before my birthday two months ago. It was to wish me happy birthday and let me know that if I needed a friend, I could call on her. I think she was serious, which is scary. This woman tried to kill me emotionally and on more than one occasion came at me with a knife. During the last two years of marriage I slept alone and with one eye open. It just confirms that this is a very sick woman. And the new me does not want to have anything to do with sickies, nor do I feel compelled to try to change or save anyone else. Been there, done that!

This time I told her to not call me anymore. But she had "come upon a couple of religious items of mine" she thought I might want, while she was packing boxes in her planned move to LaLa Land, still. Here's the deal: she's going to be a napropath and continue to pursue the bright lights of Hollywood fame. She packing boxes and found a couple religious items I might want and she wanted to know if she should send them to me. I told her to put it in a box and perhaps she might "come upon" a couple of other items that belong to me, which I might receive before her departure. In truth, she cleaned out the apartment before I regained possession, taking everything that was hers, ours, and a lot of what belonged to me. Including a security blanket I had held onto from my infancy, wrapped in plastic and in a drawer. THAT I would like returned, and very passively mentioned that if she came up it, I would like it.

In any case and not surprising, she sent the items anyway. These were my tallis and yamelke bags that I had received prior to my Bar Mitzvah. I'd like to think this was done out of kindness, but I know her better. This was a bargain with God, a last ditch effort for her redemption.

Sometimes we must go through the Hell that we have helped create before we realize that Hell is not where we want to be, not where we want to spend any time either here and now or in the eternal hereafter. My marriage was mostly Hell. The flames are easily rekindled.

I discovered the Serenity Prayer soon after I walked away from my unbearable marriage and the insanity that was the relationship. It guides me in all things. "God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference." This is a spiritual law that guides my life, that anchors me and yet gives me wings to fly.

I had a wife once. She died a few years before I divorced her.

Today is my three year anniversary of regaining my sanity. Three years ago I made a choice to no longer try to change my abusive wife. My decision was based on the fact that no amount of loving her, giving her the things she wanted, or praying for her to change made any difference, and so I decided she would stop abusing me that day, one way or another. I'd see to that. One choice would lead me to prison, the other to freedom. So I walked away. Within a couple days I had contacted a lawyer and a therapist. I had work to do. Three years ago was another lifetime.

Moving on after ending a marriage, even a bad marriage, is difficult. I have worked arduously to uncover my own dysfunction and character weaknesses in order to be able to become whole and healthy. I go to therapy and my weekly CoDA meetings; I read the literature - Melody Beattie, Andrew Weil, The Bible - and I work my Program, focus on my affirmations, and have formed healthy and platonic friendships with women. I journal. I thank God for every moment that I have, and these are wonderful moments, all. Joie de vie.

So I have moved on. I'm no longer "merely surviving life, I'm living life." But my sub-conscious life, my nighttime dreams, are another story. I have continued to dream of her, sometimes with self-doubt and sometimes just enjoying her love-making, but often in weakness finding myself back with her, and waking with a start, happy that it is only a dream. Recently, I found myself with her, engaged to her again, and conscious only of apprehension, wondering how I would explain this to family, friends, and therapist. I've wanted my entire being to be revulsed at any thought of being back with her. Finally, 4 nights ago, after a long bike ride in Copenhagen with my cousin-in-law Peter, I dreamt of talking with one of her sisters.

In the dream, her sister Lynn said, "Buddy needs your help, Gary. She...."

I cut her off and said, "No, absolutely not!"

Lynn said, "But she...."

And I said, "No, no, no...." and woke with a start, feeling like I had just experienced a break-through. I have moved on.

I never mentioned that she got all the "things" she wanted, took, or could steal from me and a handsome settlement on my condo. Okay, I made the mistake of putting her name on the deed and in my state, which is a no-fault state, she gets an equitable share of marital assets. I wanted to go to trial to prove what a non-contributing wife she was, but after 16 months of motions and counter motions and judgments in her favor, and $16,000 of legal fees, I had run out of money and had to give up. Of course, I was told that the only ones who win in a divorce battle are the lawyers, but the X didn't do too bad either. Like I said, she got "things" from me, and money. I became "The Man Who Regained His Sanity" and damn glad for how rich I have become.

I had a dream of her. We were together. I felt that I had let all of my family and friends down. I woke and wondered why my anger, hurt, and bitterness does not spill over into my subconscious.

Soon after leaving my wife, I needed two professionals to help me out of the mess my life had become, a lawyer to help me end the awful contract I had entered into by getting married to her, and a therapist to help me sort out my emotions and help me understand why I married her to begin with even though I knew what she was like.

It took me 4 months before I was able to express my anger, pain, and bitterness in poetry. When I found my voice, my pen became quite prolific and I wrote and wrote. Eventually, I took much of my writing and created a web site The Man Who Regained His Sanity and Other Poems. I recently added two poems that I wrote on my way to court for the divorce decree on April 30, 2002.

She called me at work 1 year and 6 weeks after the divorce decree. We have no children, no reason to keep in touch, unless it's because she wants to return the things she stole from me. Maybe she realizes that I was a good husband, and was sorry she drove me away.

She wanted me to know that she is moving to L.A., that she is going to have a minor role in a movie and do a commercial. She wanted to know if we could have lunch before she moves to L.A. and perhaps be friends. I was polite and said, "I don't think that would be a good idea." I wished her well and said goodbye. But I wonder what world she lives in. Of course, I know the answer.