Tag Archives: sex addicts

No more bathroom floors

Last night I ended up on the bathroom floor of a restaurant curled into a fetal position, crying. I cannot count the number of times I have found myself on the floor of some random bathroom across America over the last 5.5 years since my ex-husbands arrest. I have found refuge in these bathrooms at the times where I couldn’t breathe because fear was taking over my body or because I needed a sanctuary to feel safe before breaking into tears.

Early on in my recovery,  it was all of the weddings that I said “yes” to attending or even planning (yes, I was a wedding planner and continued to plan weddings even week’s after the inciting incident). I wanted desperately to operate under the veil of business as usual – showing up for friends as I always had and celebrating their lives as I loved to do – pretending that the huge gap of not having my husband by my side would not cause the meltdowns that would creep up  in secret bathrooms everywhere. I learned to buy waterproof mascara and time my tears perfectly to the tune of the vows that caused other attendees to tear up at the same time. As the couple exited the aisle at the end of the ceremony, I would make my exit to the closest bathroom where I could have my private moment where my tiny tears turned into meltdowns.

I had forgotten most of those experiences until I found myself on the bathroom floor last night. The exact reason for the tears was not the same. I am no longer mourning the loss of my marriage or the life I thought I would have by this present moment, but can still find myself surprised by the lasting impact those events have had on my life.

Small language choices by my boyfriend during our dinner conversation last night seemed to hint that his current transitional period in his life will result in a different version of himself. I know that humans evolve over time and life pretty much guarantees that the person I share dinners with today will shift during the duration of our relationship, but the part of my brain that stores my trauma wants to react now to build safety.

As my boyfriend’s excitement grew, I disconnected into an entirely different place. Every word coming from his mouth led my body to harden further into a frozen state. I stopped breathing. I began to repeat a mantra into my head that “he is not the person I think he is.” I pulled out a microscope and began to hunt for evidence to support the idea that he was just one sentence away from a big reveal that would alter my life. I can no longer hear what he is saying because I shift into a person with limitless questions digging to find certainty where certainty doesn’t exist.

What struck me the next day is that my way of confronting the pain – alone and behind a closed door – has not changed. It is the same as it was years ago. I am still resisting acceptance that I have been impacted by the repeated 10 year span of dishonesty by the person with whom I created an intimate life.

This resistance prohibits my healing. I am not honoring my story by ignoring its existence all together. The moment I feel my breath stop,  I am given an opportunity to choose differently. I can see that I am in a triggered state of fear and ask for a pause in the conversation. I can choose a different mantra in that quiet moment that acknowledges my experience and the recovery work I’ve done over the past several years. I can pay attention to my surroundings and remember that I am in a present moment that is a far distance from the past. I can look my boyfriend in the eye and use that point of connection to see that he is not my ex-husband and I too am not the version of myself that existed years ago. I have recovery. I can take the pause to remind myself that I do trust myself and that foundation exists so I can take risks in trusting others. I can be gentle with myself and remember that I am worthy of love and loving if I love myself and give myself permission to love myself in that moment. And at a minimum, I can remember to breathe and let each inhale and exhale slow my brain and relax the frozen limbs of my body.

 

 

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I Choose What to See (Sort of)

I recognized almost immediately following my ex-husband’s arrest that I would need help navigating my path into whatever future version of life would unfold. I sought a therapist to support my journey and was shocked to find two things.

  1. Every therapist discussed divorce in my initial meeting. This robbed me of my agency to know what decision was best for me and superimposed a timeline that ignored every personal value in favor of something that was societally comfortable.
  2. “What weren’t you seeing?” was the most prominent question across every conversation with a therapist. This had a hidden undertone that there were signs that existed that I had willingly and consciously tuned out of my vision. I believe things are revealed to us when we are ready. We don’t need to be on a vigilant hunt.

Neither of these were helpful. Eventually I chose someone who supported my own discovery and unfolding of the first point, but who pushed me to think through the second often and early.

While I am an advocate for understanding my side of the street, a 12-stepper phrase that symbolizes my responsibility in any situation, doing so early on in the grieving process did not serve me as a client. It is not exactly like asking “what did you do to cause this?,” but it felt that way. It created a deep doubt in myself to be witness to my own experience.

That doubt still surfaces today. When my current partner and I experience the same event differently, I assume that I am wrong. I convince myself that there is some detail that I am simply unable to see because I have chosen to be blind and if only I can search for and find that detail, then everything will be OK. In this hunt, I define OK as having the same experience. I am fine to contort myself in any way required to find that alignment because my fear of discovering that I am living a very different reality alongside a romantic partner is debilitating.

The logical part of me understands that the lens each of us uses to filter our world is unique and built from the accumulation of each of our experiences. The problem is that I don’t trust my lens because it’s been wrong in the past. The questioning by the professionals early on in my journey caused me to question my very being. I took on an overblown level of responsibility and created a story that everything was my fault. I didn’t think I was the reason that my ex-husband had become an addict but I was responsible being in a relationship with an addict.

What I see now, with the space over the last several years, is that they were right in a sense. The lens I use for filtering is my choice. Before making that choice, I must be aware of my default lens and accept that lens. Only then can I examine how it’s flawed and distorted. When I ignore the original lens, I discount my experience in a way that does not serve me. Seeing my default story – that my experience is a figment of my imagination – creates the choice to see something different. That choice releases me from my desire to have someone validate my original lens. I have done it myself by acknowledging everything that exists for me, including my flawed lens.

That is the key to freeing myself from assigning the value of an experience as right or wrong and instead shifts my focus to trusting my own experience.

What do you need to trust today?

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Then and now

I am back after a hiatus from blogging for more than 4 years. I hope to unfold the story of what has occurred between then and now over the coming weeks. My blog entries from today forward will represent what is true today as I reflect back on the events that were the catalyst for my creating this site. I am in the process of writing a book about my experience. My goal in doing so is to be a voice for secondary victims – the women who are impacted by the sex addiction of others and whose trauma and story, while intertwined, stand on their own.

My original intent in creating this site was to reflect on my own life – a life that seemed to evolve without my consent – and to send a calling out to the internet world to find others like me. I was stunned (and still am in searches today) about how little voice our group holds in the Internet space. I know far more today than I did years ago and have the pleasure of meeting women from all walks of life impacted by their significant other’s sex addiction. There have been tiny signs calling me to revisit my story publicly and those signs have grown stronger over the last year.

As women, we put tremendous pressure on ourselves to keep everything together, even when life brings us chaos. In my writing this week I was reflecting on the extent of the pressure I put on myself to handle trauma perfectly, partially because of the plethora of opinions coming into my world, but more so because I thought keeping it together would somehow make things easier. Pretending can disguise itself as a savior.

With each step on my journey, I was fearful that any misstep would somehow end me and begin an unraveling that happened anyway. The months between my husband’s arrest and our therapist assisted disclosure process seemed to drag on endlessly. When the time finally arrived, the pressure to create the list of questions to guide the discussion felt a lot like trying to drive from Point A (total lack of knowledge) to Point B (perfect knowledge) without any road signs or assistance. Until the few months prior, I hadn’t known that sex addiction existed and I was somehow supposed to know the exact questions I should ask to uncover the extent of the life that was happening behind the scenes. It felt oddly like my only opportunity to procure information from my husband. One of the pieces of feedback that came back from my therapist at the sex addiction center was “it feels like you are really focussed on communication, which seems good between you and your husband” and “you should end with questions 3 and 4.” I was dumbfounded. How could communication be good when he had been hiding a big secret from me for nearly 10 years. I simultaneously felt like an idiot for being introduced to an idea that the questions should follow a certain order. I could hardly keep my thoughts straight let alone a line of questions that was supposed to uncover the truth of our existence as a couple.

What I wish I had known then, and which I now know, is that disclosure was just a starting point. It was one step in a long chain of information gathering which still exists today, many years later. The things that were important then became less important over time and new places of focus and curiosity emerged later in the process. There is no proper unfolding or one single event that will reveal everything magically. The only part of my experience that happened in an instance was a phone call from my husband’s mother letting me know he was in jail for soliciting minors online. Everything else was an evolution. And while we all know that patience is a virtue, what I wish I could give to the version of myself back then is patience for myself and a gentle affirmation that buying a matching bra and underwear set to wear during disclosure is ok. Anything I needed as OK. It sill is.

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What is the lesson

I started off the week sitting heavily with the idea that my marriage would not survive. My husband plead into a felony charge which has its own set of repercussions, but most prominently in my mind was the sex offender registration. A label required as a result of his conviction. We spent last weekend having some open conversations about the imminent changes and I was on a high horse about the open flow of communication and then it hit me like a brick wall. We were at dinner on Sunday – his treat, celebrating my recent promotion – and I said something along the lines of “I am the only shot you have to a normal future; I am your light to what would otherwise be darkness. You are the only darkness in my future that would otherwise be light and full of opportunity.”

Two major things occurred as the result of those few words:

1. He agreed. Initially I felt validated, but a day passed and I was beside myself. This was one of the core issues. My continued practice of mandating our emotions on every issue and his tendency to just go along with it – even when it is completely diminishing his self worth. Wasn’t all his therapy supposed to be helping him find his self worth and speak his truth?

2. My thinking needed to change if I wanted my marriage to survive. At the suggestion of my therapist I was to do some serious thinking around where I could see my husband bringing expansion and light into my future, despite the legal repercussions and why I wanted to continue living in this partnership and marriage.

Each time I sat down to put words on paper, attempting to answer those two questions, I found myself completely stumped – unable to verbalize this connection I had been holding onto for years. I felt total insecurity about any thought that popped into my mind – struggling to determine if this or that was reason enough, convinced there had to be something more. And so I left each session frustrated and doubtful. And my actions the remainder of the week fed into those insecurities.

Trust – as my insecurities grew, I lost my trust in our relationship and particularly in my husband. I convinced myself that if I was having such a difficult time identifying the light in our future and the reasons why I wanted to remain his wife, there must not be a foundation to our partnership. So I doubted everything.

  • I came home in the evenings looking for evidence that he had been on my computer
  • I left work a couple hours early one day and thought it best to surprise him rather than calling to say I was on my way
  • I discovered he had thrown away a dying plant and instead of asking him about it in a straightforward manner I said “do you have something to tell me,” wondering what tidbit of honesty may pour from his mouth
  • I became anxious when he texted me to say he would call when he was off work and his call came 30 minutes later than he normally gets off work

So how did I deal with these surfacing emotions? I had brief conversations with him about how I was feeling, but felt paralyzed by expressing the actual largeness of my feelings. What was the point? How far can I really drive the message into our conversations without causing total discouragement all together – how will we build the trust back up effectively? Is it even possible?

And so I shifted my thinking. I fantasized about what I would accomplish without him. The opportunity to move internationally with work – something we have both dreamt of in the past but where the possibility is now real for me. I took strides into making myself look and feel more attractive. I changed the motions for getting ready in the morning – laying emphasis on things I generally pass over. I bought a few new pieces of clothes to highlight the weight I have lost over the past year. I began to look at men as possibilities – both those that I interact closely with and those that I passed by in the course of life.

I took my insecurities and lack of trust and shifted to a place where rather than putting work into getting to the root of those issues, I assumed this marriage could not survive and started living life accordingly.

And last night I played a fine game of manipulation. I had spent part of the afternoon at a child’s birthday party which brought up a separate set of emotions that I was not in the mindset to face. When Steve got off work we had planned to head into Denver for a street food event – originally presented between us as a fun date night idea. But that idea quickly dwindled and we fell into our old, pre-recovery roles. The night played out as it would have years ago, before we even got engaged.

He invited another couple. I got excited about heading into Denver and mentioned it to a couple of my coworkers and friends. I started planning what else we could do since we were already going to be in Denver. I made commitments without discussing them with my husband and spent the original event and reason for going into Denver thinking about how I was going to convince my husband to get the rest of the evening I had planned to play out.

One of those plans was to meet a male coworker at a bar. That alone should have been a red flag but more importantly, this is a male coworker who knows what is happening in my personal life, whose wife was out of town, who was drunk and asking me to meet him at a bar. I focussed mentally on the innocence of meeting him – my husband is with me, we have a professional relationship, he is just a good friend. But my subconscious flirted along the lines of the scandalous possibilities. And that is where it went. Though we were at the bar for less than an hour, I spent my time evenly balanced between participating in a group game of Jenga with my husband and our friend that had gone into Denver with us and having sidebar inappropriate discussions with my coworker, eating up his compliments and sexual innuendos. And my interactions with this coworker validated the idea that my marriage was not going to survive and gave me satisfaction because I was taking the upper hand – I was setting into motion the events that would lead to its demise. I was owning a role as an unfaithful wife, not the wife of a sex addict.

I woke up feeling awful this morning. What was I thinking? Where do I go from here?

I need more time to answer the original questions posed by my therapist. Could there be a lesson in this?

If you believe in it, it will happen. I have the power to make a choice. I have to determine what I want that choice to be. And if its to end my marriage, I need to expect better for myself – repeating this pattern is unimaginable and my actions last night didn’t show promise.

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Whats Worse?

“Admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs”

This month in Al Anon the focus will skirt along the 5th step of the program. In a nutshell, revealing your truth.

I have always struggled with the boundary of what to share with people; sometimes finding a high in revealing personal details to people whom I have not yet built trust. I have fantasized that sharing my life would form friendships and bonds. In retrospect, I realize that you test the waters, dip your toes in, gain trust little by little and then begin to share – building a foundation of a healthy relationship.

I am moving into a place where it feels best to keep things a bit private – to speak more eloquently at a high level about my personal hell rather than feel trapped in a corner trying to explain emotions that fleet between moments. It is my right.

Sharing my life as it stands, throughout this entire process, has been painful. It’s isolating to reach out to a vast expanse of people with whom I have shared my life, with whom we have shared our life over the last 10+ years, and feel alone – as though no one can relate. Its easy to feel misunderstood because no one has walked in my shoes. No one has felt every detail and moment of the way things have unfolded except the two of us. And I cannot expect them to – their view of my situation is created through a window that I build for them. I am painting the picture and they are looking at it from 100 feet away or more trying to interpret it and discover its meaning. But my emotion is wrapped up in the brush strokes and colors, the details of what has built the painting. They choose how to interpret it or engage with it. I don’t have that privilege.

But what I have found to be worse as the months pass and we move forward, even if its tiny baby steps, is the inability for people to relate to the light. The bits of optimism that mange to squeeze through, the tiny milestones, the small changes. No one expects it. They are holding their breath and waiting for the explosion. It highlights the judgement, the expectation that I will wipe my hands clean from my marriage and break free. People weren’t betting on the rays of light. No one is rooting on the sidelines.

And it hurts. Worse. It isn’t that they don’t know the right cheer. Its that they only want to cheer if I make the right decision. Their decision.

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Acceptance

Many therapists believe that we seek out people who fulfill a need or lead us in a direction for which we were already destined. My therapist keeps asking me – what wasn’t I seeing? My 12 Step sponsor continuously reminds me to consider what’s my part. I am not sure where I sit on the spectrum of believing that we seek out relationships to reinforce our internal beliefs, but I feel that investing in my own recovery and seeking therapy has been the single best outcome from this particular life altering event.

Part of my recovery has been my decision to join my local AlAnon family. Attending meetings are some of the best hours of every week and I have grown substantially from listening to other members share their experience, strength, and hope. One of the meetings last week addressed the idea of acceptance. It got me thinking a lot about my frustration in others for not accepting my husband in his entirety and my inability to accept other people’s reactions to his actions.

As my decision to work on my marriage strengthens, some of my friendships have taken dramatic shifts. I have dealt with those shifts and the feelings they bring up for me  privately most of the time, but at brief moments I have engaged in raw conversations with the friends whose relationships have been most affected. On Easter Sunday I visited with a very good friend and somehow the conversation led to  the recognition, on both sides, of just how much our friendship had changed since my husband’s arrest. This was the second conversation of this nature that we have had over the last several months. At the close of each conversation, I have felt a bit better – bringing the unspoken to light and having the opportunity to grieve the loss together. But those feelings quickly fade. I find myself confused by the connection created in these conversations and increasing saddened that his connection does not result in acceptance for my decision to stay with my husband. Moments of light followed by an even darker glimpse into the future.

My next set of actions are where I have substantial room to improve. I play out scenarios in my head – perhaps if I explain it differently, try to explain myself further, acknowledge more of what she said, empathize with her position, try to find a point of comparison, or just simply have the same conversation again – I will get the outcome I want. So I follow up – I drag on the conversation with follow up phone calls, emails, chats. And it ends in a place where I feel less understood and increasingly angry.

I need to learn to stop short. To accept the outcome as it stands. I would save an incredible amount of energy if I learned to accept the difference in opinion and core beliefs rather than attempting to eliminate the contrasts. And with this friend in particular, this scenario is present in many facets of our relationship. Letting go of my need to control or predict the outcomes may lead to an even stronger relationship – the same lesson I have learned with my marriage. See a pattern here?

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Lesson through Service

Over the past eight months I have looked for experiences that let me step outside of my own life for a bit – both as an escape and as an opportunity to gain perspective. It is easy to fall into a trap of feeling like my husband’s arrest and addiction are a clear end to my world, but the truth is that life is made up of a lot more than one relationship. Just today, over lunch with a girlfriend, I was saying that its so difficult to listen to voices and influences in my life saying that staying in my marriage will hold me back. I find myself today feeling like life is fuller than it has been in a very long time – I am spending my time pursuing things that feel right, I am successful at my job and have secured a promotion, and my relationship feels solid and makes me happy.

To navigate a lot of my grievances and frustrations with the legal system, I stumbled upon a great volunteer opportunity. I am now working each week with a young woman who is in jail – someone without a voice and is merely part of a broken system. My role is that of a mentor – an avenue to help her see the possibility of a path that is promising and far from what her life’s circumstances would normally lead her towards. The experience, though relatively fresh, has been pretty phenomenal – for personal growth and as a source of strength.

I wanted to highlight a few larger thoughts from the training I completed to prepare me for this mentorship.

  • Depression stops someone from thinking about the future; it is life absent of color – pure blackness
  • Blame is concentrating on the past; Responsibility is concentrating on the future
  • Any one snapshot in time is not reality
  • The interpretation of reality is more important than the reality itself
  • People fail because of their strategy, not because of who they are as people
  • Success comes from changing the strategy
  • You don’t even have to belief in yourself, you just have to take the next step
  • Challenges that you meet head on bring a new level of development
  • Learned helplessness brings opportunity blindness
  • Learned helplessness is the belief that there is no connection between one’s actions and the outcome of events
  • Resilience is the belief that actions, exerted over time, produce outcomes
  • Negative Explanatory Style: stable (no change), global (effects everything), internal (my fault)
  • Positive Explanatory Style: dynamic (things change), specific (problem is limited), external (not necessarily my fault)
  • Substances allow you to run from the feelings you don’t want – If you run, it will chase you – The more you run, the stronger/bigger it gets – If it catches you, it will kill you – At some point you have to turn around and chase it back
  • People think sobriety means a great life – it really means facing problems – and they have gained interest
  • Relapse occurs when the mind changes
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Alienation

I allowed myself to get tricked into believing that because I am feeling positive about my relationship, everyone else’s feelings will follow suit. It takes a lot for me to avoid getting disgusted and angry that my relationship has become a public topic of debate. I am angry at myself for years of lacking opinion in my friend’s relationships and otherwise being supportive. And here I am judged and alienated because I am working on my marriage, our relationship which is 10 years in the making – longer than most of the relationships with friends that sit in limbo today.

One of my best friends is coming to visit in a couple of weeks from San Francisco. It is difficult to put into words what this friend has meant to me or how she has supported me over the last 6.5 years since we first met in the Bay Area. She is amazing. Generally as planned visits get close I get ridiculously excited. Except this time. It’s different. As the idea of a visit gained clarity and concrete plans made their way into the weekend, it hit me that it could not be assumed that Steve would be invited along for any of the fun. So I had to ask. And she doesn’t want to see him.

I remain open with my husband and came home to him waiting at my house, explaining my frustration by the time that has gone by and how little anyone has heard his perspective, caught him on the phone, been able to see him. It gets exhausting to be the only one communicating a huge gap that has occurred in our relationship over most of the last decade. It is even worse to be expressing hope within a scenario that seems unimaginable to the majority of this world and doing so alone. I asked that he take some initiative and reach out to people over the phone whose calls had been left unanswered. I also asked that he reach out to my friend to address her uncertainty about what would be said after all of this time. And so he did.

I felt like a kid waiting for the outcome. I wanted to hear form my husband what was said. We discussed it at length and the conversation settled well with him despite her anger towards him. It felt human. He received a reaction, any reaction, and was able to process what they had discussed. I connected with her a couple of days later, expecting a bit of the same response and received the opposite. The dots do not connect for her, she believes my husband remains shielded, his responses scripted from a therapy book, and his view of the last 10 years as lacking the appropriate weight.

It is hard not to spiral into a place that maps a future with very few friends. I need to bring myself back to a place where this does not define my future. This is one relationship, albeit a very important one. Very little time has passed and time does change things. I can handle the reality as it stands today little by little and I need to prevent myself from extrapolating today into forever. Appreciate this time for its ability for us to focus on ourselves and our relationship. Something we rarely did in the old version of ourselves.

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Am I Listening?

My husband had another court date on Friday. At certain points since the last time we drove up to Gilpin County, it felt like this would be it. That his lawyer would have finished negotiations with the DA and both sides would be presenting the resolution. But most of the time, I know better than to put any hope for resolution within the legal system. I knew nothing would happen and nothing did. Another extension. Again. March 16th. Normal until then, or at least our new normal.

I am learning to put very little faith in the maybes about how everything will resolve from a legal standpoint. Every time I get a glimmer of hope it is blown away. I cannot leave room to dream for a positive outcome. It will be what it will be. I cannot control the outcome and I cannot control the process. I am just riding shotgun.

I had a few red flags pop up over the last couple of days and finally brought them to the attention of my husband yesterday afternoon, after court. I think I let them surface beyond small thoughts into a conversation partially because I was frustrated by another continuation. A realization that his addiction is not going away. Ever.

My husband is not allowed to be on the Internet at all while he is on probation. We have signed into his accounts together for necessities and we keep a log. Initially I password protected my computer but I have gotten lax about shutting it down every single night to restrict his access. I will now leave notes and recipes for dinner saved to the desktop in Word format for him to access before I get home from the office. On Wednesday, I realized an article I had open on Chrome had been scrolled down a bit to reflect the midpoint of the article rather than the top. I mentioned it at the time and he said “yeah I scrolled through that article.” Still no big deal. Then over the course of a few days I realized I had to reinitiate signing in to several of the pages I visit all the time. My stomach churned. Really it just boils down to a game of my doubt and his reassurance.

Standing outside of the courthouse yesterday his mom mentioned their meeting with his lawyer. Until that moment, waiting in the wind for the two of them to smoke their cigarettes and reflect on another court date that ended just like the last, I was under the presumption he went to see his lawyer alone. I have offered, several times, to go with him. For support and for my own reassurance that I get the full picture as its presented. So that I can understand the consequences and the chances. Tiny glimpses into my future that seem like wide open black space 99% of the time. I was hurt. I was hurt that I was not included and hurt that he didn’t mention it. What is he hiding? What does he not want me to know?

His days off work consist of working on himself. Working the program. Doing the homework required for his therapy. I took the rest of the day after court and worked from home. It seemed like a rare opportunity to share time at the kitchen table, me crunching numbers and him working his program. I came straight home and got an early start while he grabbed lunch with his mom. When he got to the house, he cuddled with the dog on the couch and fell asleep. For the entire afternoon. What is his therapy time commitment really like? How does he spend his days off work?

I am also assured that he takes care of our dog on days that his schedule allows. He is providing a bit of company, the window for exercise that our dog deserves. Friday the day floated by without his mention of taking the dog for a walk or out to the park.I asked a couple of times but it was “after this or let me just do this.” Ultimately I took him out while my husband slept. I was bitter, contemplating why exactly I had decided to take the rest of the day and spend it at home. What was my intention?

Tiny moments. Small things. A representation of things I have always brushed off. I cannot let myself continue down that path. I am not listening to myself. And yet I am still here. Allowing those things to happen. Just watching as they do.

 

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Backwards

I am feeling depressed today – could not pull myself out of bed. These lows are a byproduct and having days that seem somewhat normal with my husband. Yesterday was our first weekend day together in several months. After losing his job, he was able to secure work at a breakfast place but his hours are early mornings and both weekend days. I have teetered back and forth on feeling guilty asking him to try to get weekend shifts covered – we are no longer sharing money and I know those shifts are the most lucrative. He suggested he take yesterday off – we both needed one of those days that felt normal.

I had been feeling discouraged about a life in Colorado without my outdoor sport companion and we had planned to take the day and do some snow shoeing. I went to my Al Anon meeting in the morning and when I came home we just wanted to be with one another, as though it were any other day from 6 months ago. We got some brunch, did the NY Times crossword, took the dog on a walk, ran a few errands, cleaned up the house, made a delicious dinner and settled in with a movie and some reading.

I kept joking that life would be perfect if we could hunker down in our house, getting rid of all of the external sources from the world. Something that is simply impossible and ridiculously unhealthy in practice. But this morning, that is what I am yearning for. I want him to be back at home with me, drinking coffee and enjoying the long weekend with me and our pooch.

Today’s list of things I had scheduled seems overwhelming to battle and I am feeling behind. Looking at the week feels even ore daunting. One day at a time or at least that is what they say.

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