In My Mirror

Last night, D's sister (we'll call her...Anna) called late. She's been having a lot of trouble in her life recently and I think she just wanted to chat...she's currently going through a divorce, having trouble with her job, unhappy with where she's living and just in general in a really negative place. I feel for her, because I know what it is like to grieve a relationship (although in my case, it was obviously not a divorce but the process of working through addiction), and to feel stuck in a position you don't want to be in. I've never been extremely close with Anna, so I don't often feel that I am in a position to offer her advice, but she said something last night that I found myself extremely touched by.

As D and Anna chatted (with me close enough to the phone to hear), Anna shared that she was frustrated by the fact that she will probably have to take on a second job in order to pay off the rather extensive debt that she and her ex have built up. She was even more concerned because the ex apparently just got a DUI a few days ago, and is looking at several thousand dollars in fines, fees, etc. that will land a more significant chunk of the credit card bill on Anna's shoulders in the coming months. Of course, D said (and I thought to myself) that she should let the blame rest squarely on her ex's shoulders--he got himself into trouble, and she should not have to pay extra bills because of his mistake. "You don't understand," Anna said. "The bills have to get paid one way or the other, and I want the debt gone. Besides, this wouldn't have happened if we were still together--I would have been able to stop him or drive him home."

In those words--in Anna's attempts to take on her ex's problems as her own, to shoulder more than her fair share of the burden, in her ardent belief that had she been there, she could have controlled him and his actions and the situation to a more positive end--I felt more kin to her than I ever have. Here in her own life, I saw a mirror to my own past codependent mess. No! I wanted to shout through the phone line (or somehow teleport myself through it to shake her into sense). Nothing you do can control what he does. His behavior is his, his bad choices are his, and the consequences of those choices do not have to make your life worse if you don't let them. I wanted to tell her how this used to be me--how I honestly believed that if I were present all the time, constantly watching the phone bill and computer and D's social life, none of the horrible addicty problems would have ever arisen. But of course, I couldn't do that. Because I can't fix her either--and she will have to come to realize all this in her own time.

In the meantime, my heart goes out to her. And I am grateful for the fact that I, at least, can now realize that someone else's drunken mistake is not of my own doing, and not something I can fix, or need to feel guilty about, or take on the consequences for if I don't choose to do so.

Slaving Away

Do you ever get frustrated on behalf of someone else? I have a bad habit of that with D. Today's example: one of D's employees is basically a crappy worker. Shows up late, leaves early, often disappears throughout the workday, acts misogynistically toward other women that he works with, and (best of all) blames his poor performance on D and his coworker M because they "set a bad example" and "don't support him." When D and M try to correct his behavior, the employee complains to other bosses that D and M are too hard on him, don't like him, and then D and M get in trouble for being too harsh and not good managers D and M work evenings and weekends, and their other co-workers and bosses who are not there at the same time have no problems with this employee. Recently, the employee (let's call him "Bob") sexually harassed a customer of the company to the point that she made a complaint to D and M, who forwarded her information to their head of human resources. D and M were both relieved that there was finally some legitimate evidence about Bob's wrong-doings and hopeful that he would be reprimanded at least, if not fired.

Today D called me from work because he was incredibly frustrated that the head of HR had been unable to reach the woman who filed the complaint, and therefore nothing would be done about Bob's behavior. In fact, a previous write-up for other issues was also being removed because Bob had complained that the only reason this issue had been brought to HR was because D and M "had it out for him."

I hate this, because D basically works a really crappy middle-management job while I finish up school. We can't afford for both of us to be in graduate school at the same time, and D's true "dream career" requires a lot of extra education. And so he goes in every week to a job he hates in order to support me and my ability to pursue my career. And when things go badly at his job as a result, I feel bad and frustrated for him, sometimes to the point that I feel as though it's my fault he's in this situation--if I had not chosen to pursue graduate work, he might be able to quit his job for a while in order to either go back to school or at least find another/better position elsewhere.

I know (intellectually) that it's not my fault. I didn't cause it, can't control it. But I hate hate hate hearing every day about how awful it is, especially when there is nothing in my bottomless well of codependent helpfulness that I can bring up to say or do to help make things better.

God in 100 Words Or Less

Do you know MPJ? If not, you should. Her blog is awesome--amazingly written, interesting topics, and one of the first and best sources of SA recovery-related material I found when I first got into this blogging experience. She recently wrote a post entitled "God in 100 words or less," in which (as you might imagine), she challenged others to explore their idea of a Higher Power. I've been thinking about this for a while, and as I'm right now in the midst of doing some shuffling about in my spiritual life, it seemed a good time to sort through some of my own ideas about God. And so....

God is Love. Truth. Beauty. All with Capital Letters.

My God connects us all because He is within us all--a divine spark in our deepest soul.

My God has no religion but reveals herself in all of them, sending messengers like Jesus, Buddha, Mohammed to show us his compassion.

He is my guide and strength. A very real presence in a sometimes unreal world.

God reveals Godself daily in kindness, laughter, music, sunsets.

My God cannot condemn because she cannot help but love us.

My God cannot be defined, but compels us to search for words anyway.

Out of the Dumps

It felt good to get that last post out, but since then I feel like I've been spending way too much time focusing on D and his life and his recovery and his actions and behavior. I've just been having one of those weeks when I want to ask every day, multiple times a day, if everything is going ok with him and if he is sober. I know it's not healthy, and I'm trying to kick the habit once again and get the focus back to me, but it's been more difficult this time for some reason. We did end up talking a bit more about the moving situation, and it was a calmer discussion but when it comes to this kind of thing, we often seem to come to the same conclusions over and over again. It's not that the conclusions aren't satisfying--they're just difficult to pin down.

Basically what always happens is D does everything in his power to reassure me that he is fine, nothing is wrong, he is not acting out or thinking of acting out, and then he gets hurt that I am once again suspicious when nothing is wrong and that he cannot go a (insert here: day, week, however long it's been since our last discussion) without me bringing up the past or assuming something is wrong with him. He doesn't like to think about it because he's trying to just be a good, normal, non-sex addicty person. My problem is that while he tries his damnedest to avoid thinking about it, I often cannot escape thinking about it. It follows me. I mean, things are wonderful in our life right now--D has been sober almost 18 months, school is going very well, we are planning a lovely and well-deserved vacation, etc. etc. etc. There's really no reasons for me to be worried or suspicious, but every now and then I'll just be driving down the road on my way to somewhere innocuous like the grocery and all of a sudden I just have a random flashback to a really bad point in our history. Those kinds of things have been happening more recently lately, and I think it's contributing to my not-so-fabulous state of being, even in the face of the outer fabulous that life seems to be at the moment.

Maybe it's the weather--I've long said that I feel I really do suffer from seasonal affective disorder, especially in this time of year when spring seems so close and yet so damn far away. I want to start wearing skirts and tank tops again, and find myself wishing I could will it to be warm just so I wouldn't have to bundle up so much on my way to class and work. Either way, though, I'm sick of being here, and while I know that sometimes you just have to accept where you are for the moment and know that "this too shall pass," I also know that sometimes I can't get better if I don't do something about it. And so I'm setting a goal this week to start doing a few little things to help me concentrate more on me and what I can do to stay healthy, rather than focusing so much on D. Goals for this week are to spend more time with my higher power each day, exercise at least 3 days (that's another thing the cold weather does to me--I'm not motivated to exercise, which just makes me feel worse which makes me not want to exercise...it's a vicious cycle), and make a gratitude list each day. Starting now.

Today, I am grateful for the excitement that my next school year will bring as I move into more career-oriented work. I am grateful for my wonderful family. I am grateful for the new items I recently bought for the house that make it feel so much more homey. And I am as always grateful for this blog, its readers, and all my other wonderful recovery friends and resources who are such a help when things get difficult.

Anger

I'm still working through the issue that arose yesterday with D helping his friend move. Sadly, I didn't handle the whole situation all too well--he ended up coming home a little later than expected, and when he called to let me know he was returning, I pretty much blew up. Of course, expressing my discomfort with the situation was not made better by my own screaming, but sometimes I feel that I just can't express exactly how I'm feeling otherwise. And that realization, along with Bernadine's most recent post, helped me realize that one of the issues I still have (and have never really worked on) is the anger I have felt (and still feel) toward D for this whole situation.

I have never really, fully admitted to just how angry D's behavior has made me. I mean yes, when disclosure first happened and as we worked through his probation and counseling we discussed the fact that he had hurt me and made me angry, but I've never really examined that anger, gotten to the core of it. At heart, I have to admit that this whole experience has, indeed, made me incredibly angry. I am angry that I had to waste so much time and money driving to counseling and PO appointments, angry that because of his criminal record we will always be limited in terms of D's career options, angry that my partner and best friend lied to my face for years about behavior that was painfully obvious. I am angry with myself for believing all of it, angry that I somehow became the kind of person who accepted that kind of mistreatment in exchange for security. I am angry that someone I love so completely was capable of mistreating me so horribly. Angry that D spent so much time with other women--either chatting online, texting, talking, or being together face-to-face instead of building time with me.

But more than anything I am angry that I cannot get back the trust that was broken. Angry that almost every day of my life, no matter how normal life seems to be, I am in some way reminded of the innocence I can't get back. I am angry that I cannot kiss my husband goodbye in the morning without saying a prayer that he will stay sober that day. Angry that I cannot simply be glad when my husband goes to help a friend move, but instead can't help but think through his motives and actions with a fine-tooth comb. Angry that I feel silly for getting upset about such a normal activity, yet also know that my reaction is justified. Angry, in short, that my world can never just be the simple, happy life I had before sex addiction found its place in our lives.

I'm still trying to figure out exactly what made yesterday so triggering, so that I can possibly set a new boundary or at least discuss it with D. Yesterday evening when we talked/fought about it, D offered to let me call the people who were there (both girls and guys) to confirm that nothing bad had happened, but it didn't make me feel better. He offered to not agree to something like this again without checking with me first, but that didn't help either--after all, I don't want to be the horrible wife who prevents my own husband from being a good person. I think that all this points to the ultimate problem being my inability to confirm his motives. Sure, nothing may have happened. There were many times when nothing happened with women he was seeking out before. My problem is, I will obviously never be able to truly know his intentions, thoughts, motives for almost anything, so I'm not sure if there are really any ways to make this better or prevent it in the future. But maybe just talking about it and admitting that some of this still makes me really, really angry is a start.

Backsliding

D informed me last night that he was going to spend a couple hours after work today helping a (female) friend move. Now, when I work through things, I tend to love making lists. So, without further ado...

Pros:

• He told me about this apparently as soon as he knew about it.
• I know the friend. She's a pretty nice girl who has hung out with us several times.
• D promised he had only agreed to help for an hour or two because we haven't seen each other very much lately and he wanted to make sure we got to spend an evening together.
• I have no reason to believe D has any interest in this girl or is doing anything other than being a nice, helpful person to her/her roommate/her family/her dogs.

Cons:

• This kind of shit still makes me get nervous. Still.

I wish, oh but I wish I could just hear something like that and not react. But I can't yet. Maybe I never will. When he first told me, I stayed calm and asked for details, but inside I was shaking and my bottom was dropping out. And then, of course, come the little niggling voices... "What if he's only doing this because he's trying to flirt with her?" "What if she asked him to do this because she's interested in him?" "What if they've been texting or e-mailing under the radar this whole time and the moving thing is just a front to hook up?" "Last time he helped a female friend move it was many years ago when he was still acting out and he was being too flirtatious and manipulative with her." And on and on.

Like I said above, I have no reason to think D isn't sober. I openly explained to him this morning how I was feeling--that I didn't mind the idea of him helping his friend move, but situations like these still sometimes stir up old, bad feelings. I even explained the fact that the last time he helped someone move it was a person with whom he had an inappropriate relationship (albeit not physical, but emotional infidelity hurts too). But somehow it still doesn't feel like enough. I still don't feel right about it. I'm still worried that somewhere somehow something bad is going to happen (or already has). I just wish there were a way to make the thoughts and worries and stomach lurches go away so I can have a nice, normal, non-sex-addiction day.

God-talk

We have (yet another) snow day today as nature continues to inundate the midwest and east coast. I enjoy how pretty the snow can make things, but honestly at this point I'm just tired of it and ready for some warm. The chance to kick back and have nothing on the docket does, however, give me the opportunity to do some much-needed thinking and writing.

I've been thinking a lot about religion lately. I was raised in a Christian church by a decidedly liberal family--raised to question the authority of the capital-c Church, to understand the historical aspects behind the Bible and those who wrote it. I never grew up thinking that the bible was infallible or that the world was literally created in 6 days. And I like that. I've always appreciated my parents' efforts to make my siblings and I educated, thoughtful, and non-complacent when it came to religion. At the same time, however, we have always attended church. The same church, in fact--always in our same pew, every Sunday. And recently, that church has started to chafe me a bit. I suppose it's been a growing problem for a long time, but has recently started coming to a head as I've spent more time thinking about what it is I really believe (and also just how much I can't stand the current pastor).

This newfound soul-searching has coincided with the fact that my friend Sue has recently begun attending a new church with her boyfriend and thoroughly enjoying it. This church is what is known as unitarian, which essentially means that as a church, they welcome people from all religious backgrounds and encourage members to seek their own Truth while affirming the inherent dignity and worth of all peoples and beliefs. That one sentence was enough to get me hooked, and further research into the idea basically showed me that this concept (at least on paper) is exactly what I have been looking for in a church all my life. I do consider myself somewhat more Christian-based than the unitarian church as a whole, but what I love about it is that I can be Christian and find my Truth in that way, while respecting that the person next to me may find the same Truth via Hindu scriptures or Humanism or Paganism or anything else. This, for me personally, is a huge revelation--I have always felt within myself that there is truth to be found in all the major religions of the world, and here is a religion that affirms that fact.

And so, with this exciting new knowledge, D and I joined Sue and her boyfriend John for church on Sunday. And we both really, really enjoyed it (which is relatively shocking, because D has always been an ardent non-supporter of organized religion) and wanted to return.

Hooray, right? The only problem is that while I feel such a draw to this practice, I have a feeling that my family may not be as supportive. It's probably a stupid fear--my mom in particular I don't think will mind too much, although she will probably be happier if I at least continue also attending our family church at least until my grandmother dies. My dad, on the other hand, is another matter. Not that he disapproves directly, but he tends to be very set about his traditions and life, and would probably be generally upset if I were to stop attending church with the rest of the family. In fact, when D and I broached the subject at family lunch on Sunday following the service, my dad's initial reaction was, "Wait, WHAT kind of church was this?!!?" Even though he may agree with may of the tenets, he just can't wrap his head around the idea that I would choose this path.

My problem is that I'm just not sure how to deal with this. Obviously I want to do what makes me happy and what I feel is right for me, but I also don't want to cause strife with my parents. Especially with my parents, my people-pleasing properties tend to be especially strong and problematic, and so part of me wants to just say they can get over it, and part of me wants to avoid confrontation. I'm obviously hopeful that they'll just come to accept my choices, but even if they don't, I hope that I'll find the courage to stand up for myself.