07 August 2013

Remembering to Live

While I don't believe that comparing the tragedy of someone else's life to my own suffering, in an effort to guilt me out of sorrow, is always a healthy way to cope with grief; I do believe that occasional or frequent reminders that my life does contain all I need for happiness, are beneficial.  A recent reflection on the life of a woman who survived the genocide in Rwanda was one such reminder for me.  (Because what kind of ungrateful pond scum would I be if I read her story and DIDN'T feel profound appreciation for freedom, family and safety? See... guilting myself out of sorrow...)

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.”
J.K. Rowling


  1. I'm the queen of guilt, but I'm coming to believe that there is simple power in being able to compare within one's *own* experience as motivation to seek something different. We each in our own struggles can come to know what "the couch" feels like (and what it can come to feel like when we are ready to live life with new life. For me, it's part of the process that the 12 steps reflect. I reach a point where I'm getting ready to give stuff that doesn't work for me over to God. But the only way I get there is to bump up against that stuff time and time enough that I start to tire of it and desire something more. And it happens layer by layer. Patience with myself is one of the hardest things for me to have.

    Viva! Been thinking of you.

  2. It sounds you're detaching with love and respect and it's a beautiful, healthy thing for you to do. I hope Pete's recovery improves with time but I'm happy to hear that right now you are working on you. Your wonderful!!

  3. SoberBook.com is a safe, anonymous place where ALL people can tell their stories without having to attach a name or face to the words. It is here that you will see chapters about finding recovery, overcoming obstacles, mending relationships, achieving happiness, following dreams, and much more. The goal for SoberBook.com is to create a community of support, camaraderie, and hope for the future.

  4. I love you, Jane. And I just want you to know that you are way cuter than Wilbur ... and maybe your kiddos would like to come play in the mud too. It could be fun! Hehehe ...