1 Week of Separation

A letter I wrote to my wife after 1 week of separation (4 months ago):

Dear Nathalie;

Last night you asked the question as to why I don’t let you help me.  It sunk into my head and this morning I feel compelled to write you a letter today instead of going into work.  I know it’s always better to speak about things in person however for me right now, writing is the best possible way to express myself. 

So my answer is: ‘I don’t know’.  Plain and simple.  I am not even sure I know how I can help myself.  There is a huge component of discipline and I always thought I had a lot of it.

Last year around this same time, I came out with my revelations and out of love you stayed the course to support me.  I went into therapy and I learned a lot of things about addictions and tricks to deploy when a person is in need of their fix.  I also learned about my past and the effect it had on me.  I also learned more about my mental illness.  The thing I learned the most is that you really love me, unconditionally.  I am very aware that you want the best for me and I still cannot imagine why…  I live everyday with guilt, remorse, anger, fear, anxiety, sensitive but yet I show a happy, joyful, relaxed Valerio most of the time.  I have lived like that since my teens. 

After getting out of therapy, these feelings still persisted as I was trying to be open and talk about everything.  I never felt better than walking with you and the dogs and talking.  It felt really good and I was beginning to feel a little bit less guilty, angry and scared.  But it was very strange to feel so good, even awkward… How can that be? I don’t know. 

As time passed though I don’t know what happened, but I guess I started to feel disconnected to you again.  Was it that we were spending less and less time talking?  Was it the fact that I was working more, getting back into life’s routines?  Was it the fact I wasn’t going to therapy anymore? Something changed and as you have predicted the vicious monster appeared. 


I started to write with an old cam girl that I had met online back in the day.  I even sent her flowers as you found out.  I subsequently went to see Sean, my therapist, and discussed all of this with him.  Which was great and everything until he asked if I had done anything else.  I admitted to him that I had gone for a massage.  He was not shocked and told me that I must think and find out what triggers the brain to go do this.  What emotions, what things are going on in my life etc….  But he also told me not to say anything to you because it was not necessary to tell you this information.  Perhaps he was right and after reading this, you probably want to shoot me.  Don’t worry, I want to shoot me too. 

Now at that point, I was like, Sean is asking me not to say anything to you but at the same time he says to open and honest?  I was very confused but I took his advice and did not discuss it with you further.  I even went back and saw Sean a couple of times after and it was helping but I only felt that he was just repeating what I was saying and telling me good job!  Like I told you yesterday, I don’t need cheerleaders, I need support.  I need support in every aspect of my life.  I admit it completely.  I need it in so many aspects of my life.  So when you ask me, ‘Why don’t you let me help you?’, my answer still is, ‘I don’t know’ because its something so big and confusing, I don’t even understand it.


Your Mother started becoming worse with her cancer and that is where things went really sideways for me.  Again, I don’t know what were the triggers for it but what I do know is that I wasn’t in therapy of any kind, we were running around and all of our emotions were either sad or stressed.  Combine all that with I am already holding a lie, your attention is mostly focused on your Mother (rightfully so) and you are starting to suspect something is up.  It was as if I didn’t like this sober thing anymore and I said ‘Fuck it!’.  Any other person would never have reacted in such a way.   But unfortunately, the addict does.  It is not an excuse, there is no excuse, I will pay for my actions and they will hurt.  My actions have hurt you, will hurt the kids and of course affects everything else around us.  I am aware of that but for the life of me I cannot understand why I cannot stop it.  I don’t even see it coming and boom I’m in it. 

You know there is so much that I want to tell you and I want to tell you all the time.  I just can’t put myself to it.  I am scared like a cat.  I want to tell you all that I have done, all that I would like to do and the reasons why. I do want that but I am a coward I guess. 

I know at times you have said that I am a compulsive liar.  Perhaps I am, I can accept that at this point.  I am so good that I make myself believe my own lies.  Am I one of these chameleons that just shoots the bullshit to make me appear something that I am not?  Well that’s an addict.  Master of deception. 

I think the timing of this letter is in a way a deception in itself.  Would I be writing this letter if I wasn’t in need of something?  I am not so sure that answer is so black and white. 

So here I am providing to you an inventory of where I am as Valerio Belhers.



I am including a spreadsheet which details all transactions that occurred in my personal bank account and the business bank account.  My Account ID at my bank is: xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx and my Password: xxxxxxx.  For obvious reasons you will find a deficit in the account

My credit card login is: User: xxxxxx pss: xxxxx

I feel that I should never have access to any bank account or money whatsoever.  I know exactly what to do but for some very odd reason I cannot make myself do it.  Discipline?!  Addiction?! Who knows?  This is why living in a cave somewhere seems so appealing to me.  There is no money.  No bad decisions to be made. 


I feel terrible about all this once again.  I feel guilty, I feel depressed and I feel like a loser once again.  I am not looking for pity, it is just the way I feel.  These feelings are so normal for me that this is what I have been programmed to feel like on a daily basis anything apart from that is weird. I feel like I am the worst husband in the world (and I am probably up there).  A real class ‘A’ jerk.  In group therapy a lot of people have divorces and its directly related to their addiction.  My wife decided to stay with me and I still manage to relapse in a monumental way.  So in terms of Husband, I don’t think I am a very good one.


I wanted to leave you this summer, because I don’t want you to experience all this shit anymore.  I see you with the anxiety and I know I am causing this.  I know you are stressed about me, my actions etc.  and you have every right to be.  I love you, believe it or not, and I don’t want to keep doing this to you.  It is not right.  But at the same time, I feel so close to you and I love to love you, kiss you, hold you and help support the family unit.  But again, I choose to sabotage it for what?  For ejaculation?  Not at all and it has nothing to do with it.  Its fucked up it, that’s what it is. 



I think that as a Father I have failed as well.  I know that I have done a lot for them but at the same time I know that I have made scars as well. My yelling and my big tantrums cannot have done much for them other than leave scars.  As for my addiction, they don’t know about it however it does affect them indirectly for sure.  Perhaps even one day they will know about it and they will resent me for it.  Again, I must live with that for my entire life. 



My addiction is so strong that it puts itself there before all the aforementioned.  It is such a sad thing to admit to.  You know you hear about guys with Coke addiction or alcoholics that cannot stop and are in and out of therapies.  I am one of those guys I presume. But my addiction is different for many reasons.  It fucking sucks I know, I am living hell too!



So here we are.  12 months later.  I don’t know what to do anymore.  I don’t know who to talk to, I don’t know who to trust and I live in a completely different world, in my head. 


So when you ask me, ‘Why won’t you let me help you?’, I have not idea how or where to begin.  Let alone I wonder, ‘why would you want to help me?’.    


I have been living alone in the country and reflecting on what I have done.  A big part of me feels really guilty about what I have done and another part of me is accepting it.  Accepting the fact that this is me, Valerio Belhers.  Sex addict, cheater, liar, manipulator and unable to change this about me.  It has always been a part of me for over 30 years! I wonder if addiction therapy really works?  I have seen people who had gone into the rehab clinic for their 10th time!  At what point does one say, ‘I am like this’ and take me as I am.  Or do I continue the fight for sobriety up until the next time I fail and I hurt my loved ones?  I am at a complete loss.

I know that you are a true angel and you will guide me in the right direction.  If it is to separate from you, then I will walk.  If it is with you, despite all my fucking issues, then I will stay.  I am a descendant of John ‘fucking’ Belhers and unfortunately I have some or maybe even many of his genes so making the right decision has not always been a forte of mine.


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