What A Difference A Day Makes

So, I went and had lunch yesterday with my Al-Anon friend...I think for ease of discussion I'll call her my Sponsor, even though that is not wholly accurate for now. Lunch was amazing. We found lots of common threads in our upbringings and even how we behave as adults. She's five years in the program and seems to me to be a fantastic touchstone, and yet she's still very humble and human. She talked about some of the things in her life that she was currently working on, and I felt very accepted and welcome to share in a dialouge.

We talked about meetings in our area and she shared with me which one was her home group. She has recently changed jobs and her schedule is not conducive to making as many meeting as she used to. This is also a barrier to developing a sponsor-sponsee relationship, but I think and hope that there will still be time to develop a closeness that can be beneficial to both of us.

I came out of our lunch with a powerful feeling of calm. I was slowed down...I thought before I answered questions, and didn't instantly jump to provide and explanation when I arrived back home to my husband. It was a wonderful but slightly foreign feeling.

So, after the lunch I went and picked up my daughter's Cinderella cake, and we went to a local hotel and swam all night long. She and her younger brother were absolutely exhausted. But when I woke up this morning, they were both snuggled up to me, and my arms were around both of them. I got no sleep, but savored every moment of being close to them without the tension that usually resides at home. And it was then, in the wee small hours of the morning light that I knew I was finally going in the right direction to be the best mother I can be to them.

Reaching Out

All week long I have been looking forward to Saturday. Earlier in the week, Monday, I think, I called a lady I had meet at an open AA meeting with my husband. I asked her if she would have lunch with me sometime soon and we settled on Saturday. I went on to explain to her that I called her because I need her help. She is an active Al-Anon participant, and I am hoping that she can help me craft a tangible program. She is kind, calm, and easy to get along with.

But now its Saturday morning and I feel reserved and apprehensive. What do I say? I am feeling insecure. I must have sounded that way on the phone Monday, because my friend said, "I hope you know that you're not bothering me, it's good that you took the time to pick up the phone and call." I have the hardest time reaching out to people, which I think is a fairly typical trait for us co-des.

I just feel out of my element. Maybe that's a good thing. I'm secretly hoping that she'll want to be my sponsor, but it's probably too soon to go down that road.

On a happy note, I am also celebrating my daughter's 5th birthday. She is the light of my life, a pure joy and delight. We're going to do a little swimming (indoors of course!) and eat some cake. Not a bad way to spend a Saturday. Hope you all have a wonderful weekend. I'll keep you posted on how lunch goes.

Sweet Miracle of Life

What makes one marriage work and another fail? For some time now, I have felt that a divorce is inevitable in my marriage, but concern for my children has kept me from making a final decision. I have a fantasy in my mind about how this process would go if I could craft it from start to finish. I would sit down, explain to my husband that I wanted a divorce and he would calmly and insightfully note that he too thought that after thinking for a while and trying every option, that he too thought it was best for all involved parties that we went our separate ways. We then resolve to sit down and figure out how we can best spend our time with our children, set up housing for all and acquire gainful employment for husband.

Remember, I said it was a fantasy. My husband is a man who struggles with making a decision about what to have for supper and is largely frozen in fear about how to handle the bigger issues in life. I have enabled him to not develop that process by making all those decisions for him. And by not taking any action, I keep teaching him how to treat me. Why I continue to expect different results from him just because I asked is really absurd. And intellectually I know this, but apparently the translator in my brain that tells me to take action has lost its decoder key. Or maybe I never had it to being with.

I am really pretty good with giving my children choices and following through on the consequences if they don't follow through. I keep forgetting that I am not dealing with an adult (in my husband) that understands that process. So what am I waiting for? Perhaps there are some alcoholics who grow into this process and learn, but I see very little change in him, and he has been abstaining for well over two years now. And now I realize that my decision to leave or stay has very little to do with him, what he is doing or not doing.

I think a marriage becomes its own entity in a way, and we certainly had our roles to play. I don't think that it is possible for it to continue to exist now that I no longer am willing to play my original role. We never developed mechanisms for communication. I anticipated everyones needs and I did the work and made the decisions to facilitate those actions. When that is the dynamic of a marriage, is it really possible to scrap it and start over? It certainly doesn't feel like it can from my vantage point. From where I'm standing I now realize that even if I am capable of taking care of everything it doesn't make a partnership when I dominate the decision making process. But I can't make my husband meet me halfway in this process, and he has not shown any interest or desire in stepping up to the plate.

So I wait. I don't like it. I fear that I am wasting the precious gift that is my life. And my children's life as well.

A Murder of One

There is a sorrow in me the last few days that I just can't shake. I feel so very detached from a real life, almost like an out of body experience. I go through the motions, too tired to participate. Tonight I spent some time cleaning out my inbox and found some old emails to and from my husband. They made me cry as I thought about how much things have changed. But have they? Or is it me that has changed and the way I see the world? I didn't cry as if I was mourning the loss of a husband or love or a marriage but rather for how lost and clearly confused and misguided I was (am?).

It was so strange to read the words we once wrote to each other, but they have a very different meaning now. I was so brazen in my codependancy, I had no idea what I was doing or saying. But there were a few moments of recognition on my part; here is an excerpt from one:

I do not want this to erode any trust between us. To my knowledge, before yesterday you had never lied to me about how much you had to drink. I know that I can't control what you do with constant scrutiny. I can't change your behaviour, but I can tell you how damaging it is to our family and marriage. I am angry because I have no recourse. I can't change you. What am I supposed to do with the anger that I experience in the course of all of this? I won't subject (daughter) to yelling, screaming retaliation, but I am hurting her just as badly if I keep it inside and just grow resentful. Even writing this is a weak and ineffective measure, but I am at a loss as to what other options I have. I know all too well that my hands are tied. I could scream and cry and beg or I can stay at a calm, measured distance and try to remain supportive and loving, as I have tried to do, but I know deep down that both approches have an equal chance of ending happily as it does ending very painfully.

I can now see that it was very childish of me to think that patience and love were a cure-all. I can see too, from a cold academic distance, that when you get drunk that it does not mean that I haven't loved you enough or been patient enough, but it doesn't feel that way. I thought I understood alcoholism, but I can see that I truly don't understand why you can't stop at one or two drinks. When you don't stop I feel like you're telling me, "Screw you and all the changes you've put me through", "I want to escape from the prison you've made for me", "I hate my life and you and (daughter)", "I don't want another child", "I hate that you're putting our family under all this financial pressure for your own selfish reasons", "I don't care that I am putting my safety and health at risk", and "Nothing matters more than drinking".

Wow. I sure knew the words to say but still couldn't find the strength to live it. That was written four years ago. I am exhausted from this ordeal and just want to run away. I felt like I was really getting the "program" but perhaps out of being overwhelmed I have let myself falter a bit. This is where I need a sponsor I think to help me gain perspective and support. I have scheduled Friday afternoon off from work and made arrangements to stay overnight away to regroup and rest. Now if I can just get out of my head long enough to enjoy the time and not feel guilty about leaving my kids.

The Long And Winding Road

My perfectionism is rearing its ugly head today. I am almost manic with activity - I am the queen of multitasking; laundry, bills, taxes, dinner all being done at the same time. When I get tired of those tasks, I have a pile of 500 letters to sign for work, and two cars that I'm cleaning out trip by trip as I need to take a break and get some fresh air.

What is it about this place that we call codependancy? I am being absolutely brutal to myself, nearly every day. I'm either being too lazy or I'm going 90 mph, total slob or raging manical organizer. It seems to me the real challenge in all of this for me is balance. Why do I find it so difficult to have a routine, to do the same little tasks every day? Then I wouldn't find myself on days like these about to colapse from exhaustion.

Days like these I realize too how much I want and need a partner who is tuned into life and the things that need to be done. My husband is at a party watching basketball. I am really pissed off at him for being gone today, and yet, I love being in the house when he isn't here. It's when he's gone that I feel like I can move and live and do the things that do need to be done. What a strange dichotimous situation.

Some days I feel like I've made so much progress and then days like these hit and I realize just how far I have to go. I know I'm on the right road, and that helps so much. I just need to slow down and enjoy it. Hope you all have had a lovely weekend.

Changes

For at least the past year, my husband and I have slept in different rooms. I am usually the one home the latest, I go out to take care of my dad and go by the office after I put the kids to bed. Husband is normally asleep by this time and I go and sleep wherever he isn't. But last night he was the one home late, and I was already in the bed we used to share. He came in there to sleep with me. I was watching a movie, and he curled up on his edge of the bed and went to sleep. Once my movie was done, I did the same thing. It was one of the worst nights sleep I've ever had. I was uncomfortable, sweaty, tossed and turned all night long. And for the first time in a very long time I dreamed.



In this dream, I was in a big house with a random group of people. It was in a fairly large city that is just about an hour away from where I live. We, this group and I, had already driven most of the way home, but turned around about five minutes from home and went back to this odd, half-abandoned house. In the drive back to the house with all of these people, I cried and cried and begged to go home, that I had to get to my children. These folks acted as if there was nothing they could do to help me.



When we arrived back at this house, I started packing. But I couldn't find my stuff. It was spread out everywhere, and where I needed about ten steamer trunks, I had a little train case to fit all this random junk. I ran around the house with a sense of urgency, knowing that I needed to hurry so that I didn't miss the next car heading home, but I couldn't get my shit together. What would I leave behind, what would come with me? There was a feeling of finality, that what I left I would never see again. The frustration level was palpable.



I woke up at this point and saw that my husband was gone. He left for a hike for the day with some friends. I tried and tried to go back to sleep, but my mind was atwitter with these thoughts of home. I realized at that point that I could wake up, make some coffee and have some time by myself before the kids woke up. My mind was connecting dots, taking this dream and some thoughts I had last night and integrating some old memories of when husband was drinking. I am feeling very prolific this morning, even thought it's early. That is unusual. I was trying to write some emails last night and I couldn't pull words out of my brain, and this morning I feel almost high, like I have so much to say.



I think it's the prospect of having a day with my kids by myself. This hasn't happened in a very long time. It makes me recognize my feelings about my husband, right, wrong, or indifferent. I feel like the life is sucked out of me when he's around. It takes a lot of energy for me to be with him and the kids. Now, I just need to make the most of this day. Hope you all have a wonderful Sunday.



P.S. This is the song I woke up singing. Boy, my brain is working overtime!

Those that fail to learn from history are doomed to repeat it

A rainy Saturday morning and I'm frozen with the feeling of being overwhelmed. My home and life feel like such an enormous mess that I don't even know where to begin. There are mountains of paperwork and projects that need to be completed around the house. My children need and deserve some of my time as well. And then there's the subject of husband & marriage. Ugh. I just seem to wander from room to room picking up out of place objects and returning them to the place where they belong. Things are such a mess around here that simply putting things away could take days, maybe even months. I seem to sabotage myself by holding myself to a standard that is impossible to reach, i.e., not only do I have to sort all of my daughters important medical records into piles, I must hole punch and have color coordinated binders for them as well. It's absurd.

And all of this is just a ruse to distract myself from what's really bothering me. I have painted myself into a corner in my marriage. I have completely checked out of it. I went to speak to an attorney right before Christmas to get a professional opinion about the situation. The long and short of this conversation was that it would take time to craft a situation that was best for the kids. I agreed and accepted that it would take the better part of a year to position our lives in such a way to minimize the changes a divorce would bring for the kids. And I set my mind to the task at hand. I not only accepted the idea , I felt like a burden had been lifted from my shoulders. I had a plan and now, I just had to endure until I saw it through.

And now, every interaction I see between my children and their father pains me. I imagine their lives without him in it every day and I am so confused. Intellectually, I know that we are not teaching them to live in healthy, balanced ways. I know too that we are letting this legacy of codependancy and alcohol creep into one more generation. I am trying desparately to unravel my feelings of guilt and apply what I've learned. It seems that it would be easy for me to see that even though my father was under the same roof as me, it did not mean that he was a part of my life, or that he parented me. And I know too the damage it did to watch my parents lead separate lives under the same roof. Dear lord, it's painful for me to recognize that I have recreated, nearly lock, stock and barrel, my childhood. I want to break the cycle! But I don't want to just go to the other extreme, I want to do what is best for me and the kids. I know what that is for me, I just don't know what it is for them.