In which I don't ask for what I want, but get what I need

Cue the Rolling Stones. This morning, D and I slept in--well, D slept in, and I woke up early to study because it's finals week in the graduate school world. He woke up when one of his co-workers called to remind him about the pot luck lunch that was happening today at his job, to which he was supposed to bring a relatively substantial dish.

When he informed me of the imminent need to cook something, I went into freak out mode. I have more studying to do today than any day this week, and I was incredibly concerned that any time devoted to buying ingredients, cooking a dish, and/or driving to D's place of business to drop it off would absolutely kill my study plans and cause me to crash and burn on my exam on Friday. (Perhaps this is a bit of an exaggeration, but I was annoyed, to say the very least.) D was, of course, non-plussed and took more of the attitude that things would get done when they got done and everything would work out fine. I'm not sure why I'm always suspicious of this attitude, even though it's pretty much always right.

So I spent most of the morning fretting--what if I didn't finish this outline, or that study guide? How was I going to have time to cook and read that chapter? Why was D so careless to forget this when he knew how precious my time was this week? Should I put my foot down and tell him that I could not do this, that what I needed was to sit down and do nothing but study all afternoon without stopping (even though, to be honest, I would much rather just spend some quality time relaxing with him)? That plan was what seemed best--to simply tell D that I would have to hunker down and couldn't help. I was *this close* to saying it when D asked me to let him give me a neck massage. And then take the dog out with him. And then go to the store and cook the dish and take it to work and have some lunch. When the neck massage started and we left the house, I was almost livid--both at D, for ruining my study plans for the day, and at myself, for not asking for what I needed. But then something magical happened--on the drive to the grocery, D and I got to talk and laugh and spend a little time together. Then he quizzed me on a few questions while we cooked. On the drive to his work, we relaxed together a bit more. We enjoyed our lunch. And by the time we got home, several hours of lost studying time later, I was relaxed and comfortable and no longer irritable, and sat down to knock out some of the most productive work I've had all week.

I know I say it to myself over and over again, but sometimes I think I just need a reminder that things do tend to work out, and letting go and doing what I want can actually be exactly what I need after all.

BFF

I'm going to put this out there--I have issues with friendship. Seeing my past through the lens of my present life (that is, at least somewhat through a lens of recovery), I realize that a lot of the issues I've had with friends over the years have arisen from how some pretty ridiculous codependent tendencies. I never would have said so at the time. I always thought that my self-sacrificing, caring, tag-a-long ways were an asset--I could be counted upon, I could listen like a champ, I could pick you up from a bar and pay your tab and drive you home only to have you forget to pay me back. Multiple times. (Wait--I did mention I was terribly, blindly codependent, right?)

And so, looking back on my so-called "best friends" through the years, I realize just how f***ed-up some of those relationships really were. My best friend in high school and into college was someone I thought would be there for me forever. Until the day I called to invite her to my birthday party, and she informed me that she had moved months ago and thought my birthday had already happened (without bothering to call, mind you). At that point, I realized that I had been giving much more than my fair share to the relationship and getting nothing in return. Of course, I realize now that a great deal of that problem was my own failure to set boundaries, my own inability to ask for what I needed, and my own introvertedness preventing me from seeing that there were lots of other people with whom I could spend my time. The person with whom I became close next is still a very good friend to me, but even then, I can see now that I was always giving a little more than I got. Not that my friend L was a bad friend, but she was very needy--a trait that my inner codie couldn't help but love. And so the pattern went, with me getting close to someone who turned out to drain me in some way, whether financially, physically, or emotionally.

I mention this because D and I were having fun discussing our friends a few days ago, and I realized that the person I would currently call my best friend (a lovely lady that I'll call Sue) is none of the things that I have found in best friends past. Sue is supportive and kind and caring. She calls me when she has problems (but does not expect me to fix them all for her), and is open for me when I have problems. Just last week, she came with me to an awards night because she was truly pleased that I had done well on a recent assignment. More than that, I feel that I am capable of doing things with her and for her without over-extending myself or drifting into dangerous codie territory. She is the best friend I have always wanted and never found, and I am incredibly grateful to have had her stumble into my life.

The cool thing about it is that I knew Sue was an amazing, wonderful friend before this--but only the other day in our discussion did I realize that I probably wouldn't have been able to have this friendship without a little solid recovery under my belt. I can't quite put my finger on it, but I'm sure something in my Helpful, Fix-it nature probably would have either allowed even this friendship to become unhealthy or would have just kept me from forming such a bond so quickly and easily. And that is just another reason, this Thanksgiving week, that I am so grateful for this blog, the people who read it, and all the other awesome recovery resources I've found since I started it.

Happy Thanksgiving, all! May you be pleasantly stuffed and may the tryptophan kick in before anyone mentions the healthcare debate (or maybe that's just my family--oh,well). :-D

Moving On

Over the course of the past month or so, I have slowly realized that I am beginning to reach a new stage in life. More and more each week, I am realizing just how sick and tired I am of dealing with sex addiction--not necessarily D's addiction in particular, nor his recovery or our recovery or my recovery individually--just the whole topic. I have gradually grown weary of focusing so much time and energy on this "thing" that was once such a central issue in my life. I am ready in many ways to simply move on from what has happened in our past, but I find myself at a loss to explain how best to do so. It's an interesting conundrum.

At first, I was a little scared of the idea of this change (how very codependent of me) because I was concerned that being ready to move on meant that I didn't want to face my own reality. After all, if I just start acting like none of this ever happened, won't it all just happen again? Wasn't that what got me into trouble in the first place, ignoring all the bad things that were going on for the sake of keeping the peace? But I don't think that's it, really--I still react to things like D's computer use and phone as I did before, and check in as I feel is necessary. But in this readiness to move forward beyond SA I feel like (without any major impetus or conscious decision on my part) I am suddenly more ok with the idea that I do not have to police D's behavior, and with the knowledge that I will be ok whether he does or does not act out in the future.

Part of me also worries that I'm deluding myself--isn't recovery a life-long process that requires going to meetings and/or counseling forever to stay healthy? Is it possible for people to simply move on and use what they've learned on a daily basis, gradually detaching from the stringent programs that helped them get well like a drug addict weaning off meds? I suppose many people would disagree with me, but I feel like I've been integrating my program much more into my daily life, and the more I do so the less I feel the need to utilize the same resources I desperately required in the early stages of this process. Witness this: D and I are taking a trip next spring on our own, and when we booked the tickets my first fear was that my mother would somehow be upset--upset that we weren't taking her, upset that we would be gone during a time that other family members will be in town, etc. Luckily, while the guilty feeling in my stomach didn't go away immediately, my brain kicked into gear and reminded me that I am an adult, allowed to take a trip if I so choose without having to worry about others' responses or happiness. It was a liberating feeling to utilize a healthy behavior so quickly and naturally--I didn't think I had it in me. And yet, there it was right when I needed it.

And so I find myself at a crossroads, more interested in the solution--in practicing my spirituality, in taking care of myself, etc.--than the problem, and it's a little scary to find myself turning my back on something that has always seemed like a hulking monster barely kept at bay with my utmost effort. I worry that maybe this is dangerous, that I will lull myself into comfort and complacency only to get burned again, but it just feels so darn right that I can't help but run with it.

I'd be interested to hear if anyone else out there has had this experience of just not wanting to think/hear/feel about SA any more (in a good way). What thoughts have you, world?

Good News, Bad News

The good news: after careful review of the phone records, I realized there was nothing there that D hadn't already told me about, with the exception of a mass text that he sent on Saturday night to a bunch of people (including me) that simply said "Hello, how are you doing?"

The bad news: due to the insane nature of yesterday (long story--it involved an intense amount of work to be done by me and the added fun of putting together a pretty extensive last-minute work project for him, which was finished and uploaded to a 24 hour copy shop at around 1:00 this morning) I didn't really get a chance to bring up the idea that we should set boundaries around how to avoid a situation like this in the future, and to establish/make clear my own boundaries around his drinking and other behavior. Now resolved to do that tonight and to insist that it gets done.

The good news: The friends that D went out with on Monday night confirmed that everything had been very fine and normal, that he didn't seem intoxicated at all, and that there were no issues with women. So it seems that he was telling the truth after all.

The bad news (or, considering my own recovery, perhaps good news): That still doesn't change the fact that I feel like I trusted him to know his limits and he violated that trust. It may have all been just a mistake, like he said, but it doesn't change how I felt about the situation.

The good news: Assuming there really have been no phone issues, today marks one year sobriety for D. And while we (quite obviously) still have a lot of issues to continue working through, that fact is still pretty darn cool when I consider how differently we both probably would have handled this situation a year ago.

Warning: Rant Ahead.

D made plans to go out with friends last night for Margarita Monday at a local Mexican place. Originally he kept asking if I wanted to go or if I would drive or whatnot, but then he came home last night explaining that a his friend J had just broken up with his girlfriend, so they were going to make it a guys' night. No problem, I needed to get some work done anyway. He promises to be careful, to be responsible, because he has to finish a work project when he comes home anyway.

He got home around midnight, laid down on the couch for 5 minutes, and then proceeded to spend the next hour or two going back and forth to the bathroom to throw up. I left and slept in the guest room because I was so angry I almost couldn't breathe, but I didn't want to explode right then and there. This morning we discussed what happened--and he claimed that he was totally in control all night, had only had 4 drinks--it was just that since he hasn't had anything to drink in the past year his tolerance is much lower than he expected. He wasn't impaired to drive, he just all of a sudden got home and felt sick. He was, of course, upset when I expressed my disappointment in the whole situation.

I basically told him that what upset me was not the drinking--or even the driving, though I had a hard time believing that he was totally fine to drive if he was that sick afterward. My problem was that I trusted him to go out with friends--without me, even though when he made his relapse plan he originally said that he thought only drinking when I was around was a good idea--I trusted him to go out, be responsible, and do what he said he'd do. Especially since he made a big show out of talking about the need to be responsible. Instead, he comes home piss drunk, having spent money he said he wouldn't buying his friend's food and drinks. And if I can't trust him to do the simple task of doing what he said he would at the beginning of the night, then how am I supposed to trust that he can go out and not flirt with other women? Not text other women? Not relapse? In short, I trusted him to do the right thing and instead he put himself in a very dangerous situation, both recovery-wise and not.

His response was to admit that he made a mistake as far as the drinking--he misjudged what he could take and he paid for that. But he wasn't impaired and he took precautions to make sure nothing sexually inappropriate happened throughout the night, even talking about me first thing when a woman came up to the table. He was upset that, as he put it, I saw him as "broken," as someone with a sexual disease, and that those were the first things I thought of when he was sick over the toilet.

My problem now--I asked him this morning what he thought we should do about it, and he didn't really answer. When he gets home tonight, I'm going to outline the possibilities that work within my boundaries--but the even bigger issue is this: the whole time he was talking this morning, I felt very much like I did when he was in active addiction and making up very convincing stories. I have no real reason not to believe what he said about the night--but I don't. Or rather, I believe what he said about the night was true, but there's something in the defensiveness that puts me on edge and thinks that something else is going on behind the scenes, even if it has nothing to do with last night. And so, being the horrible codie I am, I checked the phone records for the first time in almost a year today. And of course, there are lots of things that are highly questionable, especially from the last couple of days. So now tonight I have to figure out if he's relapsing with his phone, or even just relapsing in terms of being incredibly secretive, but either way it's messed up. I'm so tired of his attitude that just because he's done with his mandatory counseling, he's free of addiction. Like he never has to worry about it again, it's never going to be a problem. It scares me that he might so easily fall back into thinking the way he used to, even though not a month ago he promised so many beautiful things.

Empty promises are the worst thing in the world, especially when you realize you might have been a sucker enough to believe them.

Relapse

Last night I had a wake up call about my own very real need to stay involved in recovery even though D is finished with his counseling, etc. D went over to a friend's house to watch a game (a very dear friend, with whom I'm also close) and I stayed home to study. He left when he said he would, came home when he said he would, had a lovely time, etc. I got a little work done and then accidentally fell asleep on the couch until he walked back in the door. Oops, but oh well. Nothing so much to speak of.

The "problem" arose when I asked if D wanted a snack or anything before bed, and said no, he had had some chips and a beer at friend's house. One beer. One beer not out a bar or in a restaurant or on his own but in the home of a very close friend who is responsible and caring and fabulous. The problem? When D made his relapse plan several weeks ago, one of his listed plans to avoid any relapse problem was to only drink if I was with him. When he made the rule, I suggested that I wouldn't mind him drinking with certain friends, in certain situations, but he was the one who was adamant that if he made this rule this way, it would prevent any loopholes that could cause problems.

So when he came home and had one beer, I yelled and screamed and got angry and basically completely lost all good progress I could have made had I simply stated the problem and asked to discuss it. The big mistakes: first of all, I broke every single HALT rule--I was exhausted, had been alone studying all night, and hadn't had much to eat. Then I got mad at myself first and foremost because I felt like, given the situation, this shouldn't be a big deal. Just one beer. But that was denying my feelings. Instead of just putting it out there, I brooded because I worried about what he would think or if he would get mad. Essentially I did all the things that I have worked oh-so-hard to correct over the course of my recovery (keeping to my boundaries, speaking up if there's a problem, staying calm, etc. etc. etc.)

Today I apologized and we agreed to have a brief discussion on the matter when he gets home from work, but it doesn't change the fact that I feel like since he's been out of counseling, I've been the one to relapse. Just goes to show that staying well is something that should always be in my focus--it's just too easy to fall back to where I used to be.

After my last, rather depressing post, I thought I'd post some things that remind of the fact that there remains good in the world, even when things get crummy.

We finished D's probation last week and had a fabulous weekend that involved doing several of the things we haven't done for the past year--including a night out at our favorite restaurant with friends and a glass of wine. It was lovely and just what I needed to get my mind off of all of the funeral-related festivities of the previous few days. Today was our first Thursday that we didn't have to worry about leaving work/school early, driving to PO appointments or class, etc. It feels normal, which is nice.

I was reminded that good things do come out of even the worst of situations--while the reasons were unpleasant, it was wonderful to have my entire extended family all in one place last weekend. We really are a wonderful, fun, loving group, and the love and support we hold for each other is obvious and real, for which I am incredibly grateful.

Finally, I was privileged enough to attend a community meeting at a local clinic/shelter for the homeless, alcoholics, addicts, etc. The organization was linked up with my school as a volunteer opportunity, and for our first visit we were given a tour of the facility (which includes a detox center, homeless shelter, soup kitchen, and long-term housing for addicts in the process of recovery) and a chance to sit in on a community AA meeting. I was nervous at first, since the place was in a not-so-fabulous area of town, but the men in the meeting were incredible--welcoming, open, humble, grateful for their chance at recovery. The peer mentor who showed us around was an incredible person who shared his story of being addicted to almost every drug possible from the age of 15, entered the center at 18 and spent 10 months going through the rigorous life and demands placed on those who would commit to complete recovery through this center--the men and women who choose to stay are given free food and basic housing for the entirety of their stay--as long as it takes to work through the 12 steps. Most have a wait of 2-3 months before they can even begin step work, not only because of the motivational track they are first put through to ensure their commitment to sobriety but because there are so many people involved. He was so grateful for his newfound life that he chose to stay and work, helping others through the program while he returned to school to pursue his dream of becoming a doctor. It was a beautiful reminder of just how awesome recovery is, and of just how similar seemingly completely different people can be. At the end of the community meeting, we were invited to stand with the group as they said the serenity prayer, and it was truly a humbling and happy experience to join in.