I've been wallowing like Wilbur in a muck of self-pity for a bit. I've been grieving the disappointments of the past two years and the seeming lack of change with Pete's addiction. I've been self-medicating with social media and carbohydrates.
But in the words of my wise friend Scabs, it's time to get off the couch.
It's time to live again.
My relationship with Pete is in something of a holding pattern. Like a deep breath, or with a deep breath, I have accepted the circumstances of my marriage for the time being. I give my most patient effort to wait for sobriety AND recovery before re-engaging with my husband emotionally and physically. While I only have a general idea of his thoughts and feelings about our position, from my perspective we are cohabiting amicably.
In the meantime, I'm ready to shed my grief, and a few of those indulgent pounds. It's time to get out from behind my glass wall and think a little bit less about myself and a little bit more about someone else. [Beginning with my little people, who have suffered the most during my saddest days.]
It's time for some real connections and it's time to release some fears, disappointments, expectations and control.
“It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.”