Isolation

I have been hesitant to post anymore dark dreary posts, just because I don’t know if it’s the right thing to do. I’m supposed to be salt and light. All I am is sad and lonely tonight. Which is stupid. I spent all day with a friend, and we had five dogs in the house. Yesterday I went to the movies with a great friend and talked on the phone with three people. Saturday I had wonderful quality time with my husband. I had several “friend” encounters last week too.

But I feel different from everybody else. Even my friends. I attended two (!) meetings today, Alanon and ACOA and both of them, went late, left early, said nothing. I’m supposed to be in my “safe place” there and I just shut down. I don’t really even feel like writing now, I’m just doing it because I feel I must.

Right now is a season of sacrifice for my husband and I. He is working like crazy and going to school. I leave the house when he’s gone, I get home and he’s gone. I came home at 1:30 after my workout and meeting and I saw the three dirty pans that he left on the stove, the butter and sriracha he left on the counter and I wanted to cry because I had missed him. The man refuses to use a damn microwave. I make full meals when he’s gone, and put them in pyrex dishes so he can just heat it up when he has the time. He to reheat every component in a different pan, using different utensils. Keeping up with the dishes is a full time job but I don’t care, because it’s him. I love his particularity. He once put a single serving of frozen microwave lasagna in the oven for an hour and insisted it was worth it.

I don’t really feel like being with anybody but him, he’s the only one who really knows me. I force myself anyway because I know I need to. It’s all very codependent. When he is there I feel so full and complete and loved and perfected. When he is gone, the darkness closes me in. I know that God is really trying to get me to count on him and these are just terrible little growing pains. That’s why I force myself. Because I have to give God my effort. My trying and eventually, it will be true.

You see, my husband won’t always be there for me. I know he will be there as much as he possibly can but God is showing me that though he may not be there, God will provide me with friends, and life and fulfillment all ripe for the picking if I am willing to accept it.

I realized Saturday that the single most important thing after breathing in and out is giving my minutes, my hours, my days to the Lord and committed to doing so. I got busy today and I forgot. I pulled into the driveway at 8:15pm, and tried not to get my hopes up that my husband would be home yet because I know not to expect him till 11:30. But I did anyway, then I sat in the car not wanting to go into the big empty house, and trying to figure out why I feel so desperately lonesome when I finally remembered. And I gave my God the pitiful leftovers of my day hoping he could piece something together that made sense in the short time left.

Hey Jude is playing right now on my Pandora, and it was the part where he’s screaming over and over again, better, Better, BETTER, BETTER!!!!!! It made me smile. It was like his promise to me, God’s promise to me. Things will get better, I will get better, Better, BETTER BETTER!

Wising Up

I woke up thinking this: “Wisdom is supreme, therefore get wisdom. Though it cost all you have, get understanding.”

I didn’t know why, till I looked up the scripture and it turned out it was in my Proverb-of-the-day reading yesterday. I guess God is working in me, even when I’m asleep. I have been contemplating it all morning.

Shower-wisdom. Brushing teeth- understanding. Getting dressed-wisdom. I have been unable to shake the thought. Really crazy. I bet you can’t wait to hear what I “realized” you’re getting wise to me already. I’m always “realizing” something new and *AMAZING*.

I won’t keep you in suspense any longer.

I have totally never ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever really *wanted* wisdom.

I may have prayed for it, a little, halfheartedly when I read a proverb or something. But it was always just a passing fancy, a prayer for something I knew I should want,however didn’t really much care for. The thought that someone should want wisdom “though it cost all you have” just sounds crazy. So basically I am praying for God to strip me of all my stuff that I have and give me this intangible knowledge of who knows what. Why waste prayers on that when I could be asking for my husband’s safety, money for the mortgage, that funny rattle under the hood, my uncle’s health, etc. To my very basic human brain it doesn’t sound like it’s really even worth the breath it would take to mutter.

So why on earth did God press that into my subconscious brain with such fervor?

I think I’m ready for it.

Wisdom. God said you have to acknowledge it as SUPREME, though it cost all you have, esteem wisdom and it will exalt you, when you walk your steps will not be hampered, when you run you will not stumble.

I really only ever wanted God to give me wisdom to keep all the stuff I have. God please give me wisdom in my business so I can make a good living so I can keep the house, the cars, the dogs, the Saturday morning brunches out with friends. God give me wisdom on how to manage my time so I can do all the stuff that will make me happy, everything that I want to accomplish so I can be perfect and complete not lacking anything.

The truth is, if God were to pull out two silver platters and tell me beneath this domed lid is wisdom and beneath this domed lid is your husband, dogs, house, cars, everything you have that can be taken away at any moment, which do you want to keep? I would tell him to keep his wisdom- I’ll take the stuff THANK you very much!

Do you know that someday my husband, the amazing man that God has given me through sickness and in health will die? Do you know that in eight years someone else will probably be living in this house and taking care of this yard? Do you know in seven years both of the cars will probably be in the junkyard? Do you know that in eleven years all of my dogs will probably be dead? Everything that God has given me is going to pass away.

But the one thing that he has offered me, the one thing that will help me get through all the changes and the hurts and laughter with my faith and joy intact is the one thing I couldn’t give a damn about?

You may think that for a “recovery” blog, she has been talking a lot about God.

Here are the first three steps, can you guess which one I’m struggling with?

1. We admitted we were powerless over the effects of alcoholism or other family dysfunction, that our lives had become unmanageable.
2. Came to believe that a power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.
3. Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understand God

If you guessed number three than you are absolutely correct. I am having a hard time turning over my life to the care of God because the God that I have understood my whole life, his shoulders aren’t big enough for my burdens. He created the entire universe, breathed life into the first man, separated the waters with expanses of land, but I don’t think he can run my business, handle my finances or take care of my husband.

So I prayed this morning for wisdom, for understanding. Though it cost ALL I have. With every breath, I praise God for another day to get to know him, another day to understand him, another day to carry out his purpose in my life.

Yesterday, during life group one of the girls said that when she is feeling like she isn’t good enough, like she isn’t worth anything, she remembers that God saw her life before he even created the earth. He knew the mistakes she would make, the triumphs she would have, the many ways she would let God down, knew that he would have to send his son as an innocent lamb to the slaughter for those sins. And he looked at her and said, it is STILL worth it. That is how God looks at me, like I am WORTH it. That is how God looks at you. YOU no matter what you’ve done, no matter who you’ve been, God looked at you and said, you are SOOOO worth it.

God in a Box

Did you ever watch I Dream of Jeannie? She was this very powerful little gal who lived in a bottle and was finally found and released after 2000 years by Captain Nelson who was this hot Astronaut. She instantaneously fell in love with him upon meeting and became his genie in a bottle. Hilarity ensues.

There is a point to this. See, I have realized that I created a God when I was little in my head. Like an imaginary friend, like Jeannie. A God who loved me and only me, took great care of me, thought I was special, etc. Who liked my quirks and understood me. Who still loved me when I sinned against him, and thought I was just the best, smartest, funniest, prettiest little girl ever. I really think that God allowed me to think this way, because I needed to believe I was special so I could survive my childhood rejection. He told me that the stuff I did was ok. That I was ok, I was going to be ok.

This was before I believed that Christ came down to redeem my sins. I just made up whatever I thought God was.

Then I met him, and found out that there is a book to get to know him. That there are other people who know him, that he loves JUST AS MUCH AS ME. This is hard for me to swallow. See, in my head he loves me MORE than he loves you. More than he loves anybody. He still loves you, don’t get me wrong, but just not as much as me.

I am telling you this because I just realized how wrong I was and how this viewpoint has totally handicapped me in my faith in God.

I always thought I had great faith because I believed. But my struggles in life all revolve around me not being able to give up control to him. About me having to be perfect and falling short and escaping so I don’t have to realize how completely hopeless my plight is. The trouble about the God that I created is, he’s a lie.

God is so big and so great and so AWESOME, the Creator of the universe. All things that walk and live and breathe. If no one worships him, it is written that the ROCKS will sing his praises. This is how big God is. And I put him in a box, trapped him there where he could love nobody but me. This severely limited the way that I saw him at work in my life. Instead of a God, I created a genie.

The more I read of God and his character and his limitless bounds and his amazing grace, the more separated he becomes from the God of my youth. I am praying right now for him to reveal himself to me, for him to show me how big and how great is his power.

In Deuteronomy 32:3-6 it says, “I will proclaim the name of the Lord. Oh praise the greatness of our God! He is the Rock, his works are perfect and all his ways are just. A faithful God who does no wrong, upright and just is he. They have acted corruptly toward him, to their shame they are no longer his children, but a warped and crooked generation. Is this the way you repay the Lord, oh foolish and unwise people? Is he not your Father, your creator who made you and formed you?”

I am going to let God free in my life, be his child. He is my creator who made me and formed me. I am fearfully and wonderfully made. I only know a fraction of his character because I thought it was perfectly adequate to keep him where I knew him. “Like newborn babies, crave spiritual milk, so that by it you may grow up in your salvation, now that you have tasted that the Lord is Good.” 1 Peter 2:2. It is time for me to grow up. I’m ready.

Understanding God

I have been trying to read scripture every day. I am inclined to want to spend a great deal of time and energy and effort and do it perfectly, going over a book, and the Bible and highlighting and taking notes, that stuff really jazzes me. When I do it, which is rarely because it takes such and involved effort to do it perfectly. That is NOT Biblical. God doesn’t care if you do it perfectly, half of it is just showing up. So to avoid my perfectionism I decided to just read proverbs daily, correlating to the day of the month.

It’s been a little scary to be honest with you.

Certain scriptures have been jumping out at me and taking hold of my heart and speaking to me that make me really uncomfortable.

Oct 28th: He who works his land will have abundant food, but the one who chases fantasies will have his fill of poverty, Proverbs 28:19

Oct 29th: A man who remains stiff-necked ater many rebukes will suddenly be destroyed without remedy. Proverbs 29:1

I am not really sure if it is God or the guilt that lives inside of me for so many wasted gifts and hours that makes these scriptures slap me in the face. It is said in the Bible that ALL scripture is God-breathed. These proverbs make me feel as though God is going to smite the crap out of me tomorrow…SMITE, SMITE, SMITE- Like so much Dragon’s breath. I can just see him with his lightning rod, tossing bolts down from heaven upon me destroying me without remedy, bringing me from my American dream into the depths of poverty.

Now, it is good to have a healthy fear of God. Blessed are those who fear the Lord. But I don’t think that the way I am interpreting these scriptures is correct. He is a God of love and he says that love is patient and kind and is not easily angered, keeps no record of wrongs, always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. THIS is GOD.

It’s hard to get sometimes.

Which brings me to my Proverb today Oct 30th:

I am the most ignorant of men. I do not have a man’s understanding. I have not learned wisdom, nor have I knowledge of the Holy One. Who has gone up to heaven and come down? Who has gathered up the wind in the hollow of his hands? Who has wrapped up the waters in his cloak? Who has established all the ends of the earth? What is his name and the name of his son? Tell me if you know!- Proverbs 30: 2-4

You can hear the author’s desperation in his voice, the fact that he cannot understand God, that the knows that SOMEONE must be up in heaven, SOMEONE must have control over the winds and the waters and the ends of the earth. But he doesn’t know who. How frustrating. I have never really felt this way. I always knew that God was there and that he loved me, from when I was a tiny kid I believed. This is not the case for everybody. Especially analytical people who like numbers and facts and full explanations. For whom a feeling just isn’t enough.

The reason I bring this up, is this is a particularly meaningful scripture to me. It brings me to tears to remember it. In my Bible, in the corner above it in tiny lettering is the writing “K is here- 6/30/03”.  In ’03 I was talking to an old boyfriend again after being broken up for over a year and living in different cities. I was a new believer in Christ and he wasn’t. I told him I was only looking for a husband and only wanted a Christian husband, but we continued talking on the phone anyway.

When I talked to him I could feel his desperate confusion, his knowing that there was SOMETHING greater than himself out there, but not knowing what it was, or how to reach it. He could see the coincidences that were not coincidences, the miracles that were to big to ignore, yet too intangible to be sure. He would go from admitting that there was a God, to being angered at the very thought that he was considering it. He wanted names and places and proof and without a reasonable doubt. And I just couldn’t give it. And it wasn’t my job. So I wished him luck and told him not to call me anymore.

We didn’t talk that whole entire summer which was incredibly hard, because I had been so sure that I would marry him. I prayed fervently and so many other people that I don’t even talk to now did too. I quit smoking in June because he had once told me that he would never marry a smoker and I told him I would never marry an atheist. I decided to prepare for him to return to me. In August he called me up again. Triumphant, he understood he said. He got it. He had started going to a Bible study, and seeking other men and it happened. In January we were engaged, and by the following August, we were married. And he has been the most amazing blessing, and most Godly man I can imagine.

I am reminded that it is not my job to know, that I am human and He is God and he is in charge and I am not.

I don’t get alot of what I read, but if I continue to seek, God will make sure I know what I need to know, when the time is right. I don’t have to worry about being in poverty or being destroyed by God. Because he is with me, he comforts me, he loves me. But I need to heed his warnings, because at the end of it all, I don’t want to have nothing to show him for what he gave me, not because I am scared he’ll hurt me, but because I love him.

Under the Microscope

I think that this is a good time to tell you why I began this blog. This is not my first blog, but it is the only one I know is going to stick. I own maybe a dozen URLs ranging from being a wife to being a realtor and in college I even made my own vanity site with pictures, etc, but none of those stuck. I’ll tell you why. None of them were true.

Sure they may have had pictures and cute quotes and told true stories, but they weren’t what I thought about on a regular basis, they weren’t who I really was, so they fell off like old skin that I just couldn’t fill up anymore. If you want to read great funny stories and fabulous household tips and see really pretty pictures- This isn’t the site for it. If you feel inadequate, uninspired,  awkward and alone, this is for you, because I am you. And if you see me get better, you will know that you can get better. This is the whole reason for it.  The reason I posted my before and after pictures is because one  lady wrote me this:  “Thanks for posting this, I was too embarrassed to post pics, but my room looks just like yours did, so if you can do it, so can I!!!!”

The reason I share all of my muck and embarrassment is for the same reason. Do I think that airing out garbage is going to make me famous? NO. I won’t be able to run for office and I won’t be able to pretend that I have everything together anymore. Truth is, I haven’t really shared it with many people I know, only people I don’t because they are kinder. Why are we kinder to strangers than we are to people we know? I think it’s a helluva lot easier to pat someone on the back and say, hey I’ve been where you are, or I AM where you are, when we don’t know them, because we don’t have to look at them everyday, and most importantly, they don’t look at us everyday. Scrutinize us and follow our every move waiting for us to fall, waiting for us to fail.

I also share because your testimony is your greatest weapon against the forces of evil. The story of how God has delivered you from the lion’s den lets others know that God is great and can deliver them too. It is hope-giving. And it holds me accountable to the changes I am making. You may not comment all the time, but when I look on my statistics and see 74 people reading, I may not know 74 people that have this address, but I feel the responsibility of keeping my promises to those 74 people. I don’t feel like keeping my promises when it’s just me because I have a bad track record with myself.

The truth: You can hide and be in denial about your life if you want to.

I don’t. I just want to get better.

I’ll leave you with one of my all-time favorite movie scenes. If you want to follow me just to pick my life apart or feel superior, than I feel sorry for YOU because the brick wall surrounding your heart is tall and that means that no one can get in.

Extreme Bedroom Makeover

I was almost tempted to post a picture of a regular person, then one on the floor drunk— Get it? Before and AFTER Shots?  Hahahaha.

Anyway…

Ok. Just so you know, I’m not the miracle worker. I did not wash ALL of those clothes. I separated them into piles. Cleanish, and filthy or questionable and they are all in my guest room, I am going to finish the  laundry today. I’ve lost a bit of weight so I need to go through and sort them into give away and keep piles because there is no earthly reason for me to have so many damn clothes.

It’s so weird to actually see it in the harsh light of day, how dirty the room was. I mean I have been avoiding it (and making it worse) since I’ve been depressed, and my husband is so busy it really falls to me, cooking, cleaning, laundry- etc. I thought that when we bought this house WOW 2600 square feet, we are going to be SOOOOOOOOOOOO organized! There is a place for everything. Which is true, there are PLACES for everything, however there is also SO much space to throw crap around, and three bathrooms to clean– THREE! It feels so wonderful and peaceful in there now, it’s amazing. I also posted a picture of the gorgeous view from our bedroom window, with the trees and the greenbelt in the background.

Honestly, I went shopping yesterday for new bedding, because there is nothing worse than cleaning your room and it STILL being ugly. Flylady always says that the key to making your bed every morning is getting bedding you really love, here is a great article and blogtalk radio link to making your bed every day from flylady. My goal is going to be to at LEAST make my bed every day, now that there are no more “it will still look ugly” excuses.

I picked out deep purple sheets from Target last Christmas, and have been trying to find a comforter to match them for JUST AS LONG. Finally, we just gave up and slept with our white down comforter w/ no duvet and the purple sheets which I now loathe because they match nothing. It drove me crazy. So I left the house yesterday with full intention of getting new bedding. I visited Target and Ross and everything was either too expensive, too ugly, too scratchy or too cheap looking. Then I went to Walmart and found this soft, gorgeous set that matches everything I already have ON SALE for $59! Yes! I am so pleased with it, I even bought the wreath, and two throw pillows, all for under $100. If you go on the website you can also order, but you won’t get the sale price unless you’re in the store I guess.

My husband was in utter SHOCK when he got home. I had to wipe his jaw off the floor. He was all smiles the rest of the night. I have to say it was not easy and it took awhile. And it is by no means perfect, since I still have alot of stuff that I just stashed away to deal with later. But here’s the thing: it feels peaceful, and I’m trying for progress not perfection. I will take pictures of the piles and get rid of them one by one, because posting it up here online makes it REAL.

Next up: I am going to post pictures of the guest room- AKA ground zero of laundry. I thought it may be dumb to do this, but I gotta tell you, there is NOTHING more motivating than knowing you’ve gotta post pictures of your crap because you promised. P.S. Thanks so much for the encouraging emails I’ve been getting. Please know that you are not alone. If you want to send me before pictures of your own impossible project, let me know and I can hold you accountable, like you are holding me!

Giving Yourself Away

When I was a kid, when things would get bad, I would lay in bed and read. In my bed nobody bothered me, I used to pretend that I was somewhere else and just envelope myself in the covers. I was a little bit of a loner.

We were the house on the block where the neighbor came over to cut the grass because he said it “brought property values down,” so I was too embarassed to play with the other kids and my mom said we would get stolen. Besides, I was different than them. Sometimes my bed was next to the window that looked out into the street and I would watch them play basketball or hopscotch or ride bikes and wonder how their life got there, and mine was behind the glass, watching them.  I was so jealous.  I would tell myself that maybe I would play when my dad taught me how to ride a bike. When I was thin and fit and could play hopscotch better, or when my dad was home and he could take me to the park to shoot hoops so I could practice and not embarass myself.  I just realized I wrote embarassed twice. I guess I’ve always been a bit embarassed to be me.

To make up for it, I became very personable. In school people liked me. I was generous and funny and charming. I never got made fun of for being chubby or too smart. I was respected. Nobody knew what my house and yard looked like at school. I needed that to make myself feel better. When somebody didn’t like me I was baffled. Didn’t I do everything right? What could I change? How can I appeal to THIS person, what facade can I conjure up? And then do it. I’ve always had lots of different groups of friends, even the bullies were my friends because I made them feel special.

It feels wonderful to be liked by everyone.

It feels terrible to know the you that everyone likes is a lie.

I got help at first because the facade was slipping off. My husband made me feel too comfortable being me and I began to be uncomfortable being that charming wonderful person that people loved. This made me depressed that I was no longer charming and wonderful and made me try harder to be that person, that lie. So I stopped going out as much and just tried EXTRA EXTRA hard when I was out. I really got help because I wanted to keep living a lie. I liked that person I was in front of other people and I wanted to get her back. I wanted to be stronger and better at conjuring up that persona. I didn’t know that it was just going to make me scrape it away and let it all hang out.

So right now. I don’t really think anybody likes me.

I’m a little depressing to talk to. I cry alot. I’m not really trying to keep my chin up or be strong. I would love to say that I don’t give a damn if nobody likes me, but it’s not true. It kills me. I am a popular person. I have always been a popular person in crowds and classes and clubs. But I’m not willing to go there anymore. I don’t want to be liked for being a good actress.

I want to ACTUALLY be a fun person. I want to ACTUALLY be a positive person. I want to ACTUALLY be a loving and caring person. Not just the person who loves and cares when someone is watching or to get you to like me. It is my goal to learn how to step outside of myself and love people. I can’t seem to do that yet. I am still caught up in my appearance and my mess.

One of the motivational speakers at the seminar yesterday kept saying that to find yourself, you’ve got to give yourself away. I have been woefully fantasizing about a sponsor, or a woman of God to take me under her wing and “mother me” . Gently guide me, give me help, give me help. Love me, spend time with me. Care about me.

Do you see a pattern? ME ME ME ME ME ME ME ME ME ME ME ME.

Ick.

We learn in ACOA that we build a protective wall around the “real” us so that no one finds out our inadequacies. This makes us incredibly selfish and self-serving people, unable to step outside of our problems to care about anyone else. We are constantly worried about our own perfection. Realization: the only way I am going to get that relationship that I desire is to step out of “me” and give a damn about someone else.

Ok: Here is my favorite part. The ACTION: I am going to serve my husband. He doesn’t read my blog so he won’t know I’m doing it.

He might suspect when he comes home and the laundry is done. (I’ve been so DEPRESSED…woe is me that I let it pile up and we are in a standoff right now. He’s bought packages of socks and underwear twice!) I want you to hold me accountable. I am going to post before pictures of my bedroom and after pictures. Tonight: I am going to do the laundry and clean our bedroom. It may sound small, and probably everybody is better than me and doesn’t need to motivate themselves with something so completely inane, but I am going to try it. And I’m going to publish this before I change my mind.

An Alien in a Strange Land

Ok. I’ve stopped bawling now. I’m ok. It’s pouring outside. We don’t have gutters on our house yet and the dog tore up the weather stripping on the back door so it’s coming in. When it rains really really hard, a bunch of little grubworms come into the house from underneath the back door to get shelter from the storm.

That kind of persistence has always really really amazed me.

I always thought of myself as the kind of person who would rather die than fight. Like that scene in the Titanic. I didn’t get the people in the lifeboats. You know who I identified with, the old people that just went to “sleep” in one anothers arms. I always thought why the hell would you jump off the boat into that freezing cold water??? I know that I am going to be with God in Heaven and that is – pardon the expression- a “HELL” of a lot better than being here. Hahaha. I know, I’ll be here all week folks. But, I digress. The point is, I never really saw a reason to live. I don’t do it well. I am selfish and rotten and lazy and egh completely disgusted with myself.

So I was really really really surprised when I watched the movie “District 9”

and it totally BLEW MY MIND.

It’s not the sort of thing that I like. I didn’t get why on “earth” hahhahaa (it’s an alien movie) the lead alien in the Michael J Fox from Back to the Future vest would bother to try and put their spaceship together. Why did he not just accept his fate? That they were a lost race. That they were going to be stuck here for all of eternity living like slaves. I just didn’t get it. Why did he try? This is the old me, the me that is used to coming out. The me that always prayed to God that I would just stop living because it was so bad.

The new me, the me that is recovering saw that alien and was amazed at the “human” spirit he exhibited. The fact that he was getting off this planet, the fact that he would die trying, not die in a tent on a compound. The fact that he gave a damn. I have never ever been near death. Perhaps that is why I can be so cavalier about my life. But that alien wanted his son to grow up on a planet where he was respected, he taught his son to want better than he had. He taught his son to work and dream and they would make it. The rest of the aliens were savages, fighting for cat food, living in the damn alien ghetto acting like filthy pigs, while he quietly exacted and worked day and night for something that he never even knew would work.

I hate to admit it, but I am one of the savages. I am trying to turn into a person who appreciates this life that God has given me, not sink to the lowest human denominator. I find myself still fighting over the catfood, living in the ghetto, unable to see the bigger picture. God is so much bigger than all this shit that surrounds us. That is what the alien got. The hope and love and the bigger picture. He blessed his son by teaching him to always look ahead.

Sometimes I see such stupidity and it makes me sick to my stomach. Especially with people of my own culture. Those people who have twenty five children out of wedlock and are on foodstamps. Those people that have a new baby for every guy’s name they tattoo on their boobs. Those people who are acting like it’s ok. It is not ok. No kid wakes up in the morning saying, “I never want to know my dad” because my mother has been sleeping around to work out her daddy issues. That my friends, is how generational curses get started. I want to be the alien that gives a damn. I INSIST that you watch District 9 it is a commentary on the human experience. And a pretty damn cool alien movie.

Off the Wagon

Life was going really really really well. I mean, I’ve been really happy in a great mood, grateful toward everything, even the tiniest blessings were getting acknowledged and praised. I have been having some incredibly productive days that begin with scripture and end tired and satisfied. The kind of days that I dream of having. The kind of days that make life worth living. I was a little sick last week, while it stopped me from going to a few meetings and I slept more than my schedule allowed, I was still doing well. I didn’t post on my recovery blog because it didn’t feel like I had anything to recover from. I felt wholeness.

Then Thursday morning, I slept late. Then I got a phone call from a client asking me to withdraw her offer on a house I know is perfect and one-of-a-kind for her. Then I didn’t put the trash out before the garbage truck came. Then I didn’t go to the gym, didn’t go to Alanon, and didn’t shower. Then I ate chips in bed and watched youtube videos. Then my husband came home at 1pm from school after not having slept at all the night before from working on homework and I had the nerve to complain to him about how “dissatisfied” I was. Then I pestered him about whether or not he “loved me” or was “mad at me”. Mostly because I felt like an unloveable lump of crap that I was really really mad at myself.

Then he got this really really sad, frustrated look on his face and said, “You fell off the wagon, huh?”

Nothing mean, or condescending. He walked in the bedroom and began picking clothes up off the bedroom floor to put in the washer. I turned away from him in bed, ashamed. He went downstairs to make himself lunch. I layed in bed. Ashamed and angry, desperately willing myself to change, but not having the strength to even move. I tried to sleep some more but only succeeded in wanting to die.

Then I thought about my husband. How he didn’t get any sleep the night before and had still gone to school.

How he was going to work right after lunch, because he had to pay the bills to keep my depressed and lazy ass in chips to eat in bed, electricity and internet so I can while away the precious days that God has given me in comfort. I was disgusted with myself. What nerve did I have to tell him what a shitty day I was having, when the only thing that was shitty that I had no control over was the client. The rest was all on me, baby.

I would love to tell you that I immediately got up and didn’t waste the rest of the day. That I showered and got dressed and ate well and went to the gym, the office, read my scriptures, cleaned my house. Anything that was productive. That I was so inspired by the thought of my husband working so hard for us, that I just had to get up and get going. That I vowed that minute to do everything in my power to change and never look back.

It’s not true though. I did take a shower, and got dressed in some comfy sweats and went downstairs and kissed my husband and told him that I would get right back on the wagon. That he didn’t have to worry anymore, that things were getting better. That things were GOING to get better. He looked at me with compassion, and said, “I hope so.” Then went back to his sandwich.

Then he went upstairs to take a nap, and I went with him. I slept the rest of the afternoon and into the night. He went to work. He asked me if I would wash some socks. I didn’t even get up to do that. He came home at one AM, exhausted and crawled into bed with me again. He cradled me in his big arms and I wailed, “you shouldn’t hug me. I didn’t wash the socks. ” He said he had been getting them off of the floor and he’d just do that again. I sniffled, “you can have mine tomorrow, they didn’t even touch the ground today.”

“Ok,” he said, holding me tightly.

Sometimes I want him to hit me and scream. It would feel more appropriate. Sometimes I want him to threaten me with leaving and falling out of love, anything to shake me up. But he doesn’t. He holds me and I’m secure and I have no reason for acting the way I do. I was doing so well. What happened?

Though I stumble, I will not fall

It has been about a week since I posted last, not because I’ve forgotten and didn’t want to, but my husband was out of town and of course the first thing that happens when he goes out of town, our modem that we’ve had for 4years goes out, so no internet at the house. It takes a while to post something I think is worth talking about, so while I was able to run out several times and use the internet at the office, Barnes and Noble, and even Tom Thumb has free wifi!, I was unable to gather together enough internet minutes and mind power to post. But today I am forcing myself to post in public, because my little sister sent me an encouraging text message.

So, I had this great epiphany on Monday. It may not seem like much to you, but for me this is freedom. I went to Al-anon Monday morning and we read a brochure on despair. In it, it describes the alcoholic as being “sensitive and emotionally immature, excessive in their demands on themselves as well as on others. When they fail to live up to their own standards, they escape from reality by drinking. The habit of escape through alcohol leads to obsessive drinking, a compulsion so powerful that not even the threat of death or insanity seems to break it. One drink sets up an uncontrollable craving that only more drinking can appease.”

I realize now, that I might as well have been an alcoholic, my characteristics and behavioral patterns are the same. I forced myself to never drink in excess, because I’ve always been aware of my father’s addiction. But I didn’t know that even without drinking, I could act the same way.  When the lady who read that aloud spoke on that passage, she was filled with compassion and love and spoke of loving the person and hating the disease. This too, is something I have always heard in church, love the sinner, hate the sin, but I always pinned that on my dad. I have no problem loving him despite his alcoholism. I hate the stupid stuff that he does sometimes, and the immature ways that he acts, but I have a great deal of sorrow and compassion for his disease that he cannot control which allows me to still love him and forgive him.

All this time, I have spent having compassion for his disease, I never had compassion for my own. Or my mothers. When I heard the love in that woman’s voice, the way she was able to look past the disease and strengthen her own life, while still loving the alcoholic, it was an extremely powerful release for me. It was like I saw God, and the way he looks at me, as “sensitive and emotionally immature” as I am. He sees me and hates that I am going through this, that I can spend so many days and weeks in despair and self-hatred and try to escape with food, and internet distractions, and reading and numerous other things that never fill the hole. He sees that my life can be so much better, but he doesn’t look at me and say, “That bitch. Just wasted twenty eight years of the life that I gave her. I will smite her because she doesn’t even respect the gifts I have given her. Life was wasted on her.”

He looks at me the same way that I look at my dad. I am really so sad that he will have to look back on his life and realize that he wasn’t there to watch his son grow up. That he was working or drunk most of his daughters’ childhood. That he never got to heal from his own childhood. I love him and it grieves my heart that he will probably never be able to understand how many people did love him  that he pushed away. How we all still love him. How my mom still fasts for his healing, how even though we don’t talk much because he has a different life we all still think of him and pray for him. How he will never be able to accept that as truth, because in his head nobody loves him, nobody will ever be able to love him because the two people who were supposed to love him the most in the world weren’t able to, so how could anyone else?

I could tell you without a doubt that his way of thinking is wrong. Alot of people love him and care for him and will always. But I always thought that if my mother had been more compassionate, more loving, more of EVERYTHING she could have changed him. She wasn’t an alcoholic, what is her excuse? I took this way of thinking with me when I left home. Thinking that I was going to be everything she wasn’t. I would conquer alcoholism, not let it in my life and be healed. I would be the perfect wife and mother and everything she wasn’t because it was her fault that my dad never got healed. When I realized that she wasn’t going to fix him,  I transferred these hugely “excessive demands” from my mother to myself thinking at least when I grew up I wasn’t going to be like this.

When I “failed to live up to” my own standards I began to escape from reality. I have always had a problem with weight and eating, and I spent my whole childhood buried in a book. While it just looked like I was a smart kid who loved to read, I loved to read because I just wanted to go away from my life, where I had no expectations, no disappointments where I didn’t exist. My drug of choice has manifested itself in different ways over the years, but it’s always the same. I don’t work on my life because I feel better just not existing. I don’t want to be me. Me is not good enough. I was not good enough for my mother to love me. For my father to stop drinking. Then the disappointments mount up, not finishing school, not becoming the things everyone told me I would become, being depressed all the time. Not being able to function in everyday life. Not being able to keep a clean house, happy dogs, have tons of money. All the things I could have been and am not stare me in the face everyday. It is hopeless, so why work on it. God already sees me as a complete failure.

I recognize this viewpoint as a tool that I allow the enemy to use on my over and over again to keep me from moving forward. The TRUTH: GOD does not see me as a failure. HE looks on me with LOVE and COMPASSION and as a WORK IN PROGRESS. HE does not see the mountain of failures I somehow think I have to climb to get to the other side. HE sees a big chasm that he wants to fill with HIS LOVE and GRACE so that I am able to walk across in freedom with complete confidence and ease. Everyday it is going to be a new choice to wallow in the mountain of despair or step forward in faith that there is enough grace to sustain me, that I will not fall. Psalm: 37:23-24 “If the LORD delights in a man’s way, he makes his steps firm; though he stumble, he will not fall, for the LORD upholds him with his hand.”

I forgave my mother this week for not being able to change my father. I apologized to her for never realizing that I blamed her so much, and that she never had the power to begin with. Only God can sustain him, NOT my mother. More importantly, I forgave myself for not being able to change a damn thing. I encourage you to walk in faith today and have courage that you will not fall.