Queen of Excuses

Back in the late 90's when you saw WWJD everywhere, particularly on plastic bracelets and people put "Jesus Freak" on bumper stickers; a Christian rock group was wildly popular.  I was in 9th grade at the time and I had an evangelical friend who shared the music of DC Talk with me.  I hadn't listened to these songs in years, obviously we are separated from that time by an entire decade,  but on Saturday I put one on my running playlist somewhat randomely. (Or not.) 


I was coping relatively well with the news I received on Friday.  But then Saturday night something happened to shake my emotional stability and now I find myself floundering a bit.

Worse than floundering, I find myself fighting off the urge to slip back into old habits of self-pity.  I'm justifying pathetic behavior, I am feeling sorry for myself and acting ridiculously lazy.  My kids are paying the price, and so am I.  I am not living the moment/day/life I wanted. 

For so long I was doing so good at owning my recovery, and now I am tempted to be codependent again, letting my mood be totally influenced by circumstances rather than self-control.  I thought I'd figured this out, and yet now I am feeling content to be sad and depressed. 

So back to DC Talk....

This morning as I ran I heard the words of this song and they resonated with me:
(In The Light - dc talk)
"I keep trying to find a life
On my own, apart from you
I am the [queen] of excuses
I've got one for every selfish thing I do

What's going on inside of me?
I despise my own behavior
This only serves to confirm my suspicions
That I am still a [wo]man in need of a savior"

I AM the queen of excuses.  Mine are pretty good ones if I do say so myself... But ultimately I don't want to be pathetic, depressed and self-pitying.  I want to be happy and confident again.

So, bear with my "Come to Jesus" moment here.  But I'm learning I really can't change without help.  And no earthly being can give me that help.

Here is another, different, dc Talk song that I remembered from all those years ago.  (I'm not quite sure of the significance of all the images, but you know how these homemade YouTube montage videos can be...)

 

And she's down again

I tried it.  I closed my eyes. Breathe in. Breathe out.  Go to sleep.  Escape reality. 

It wasn't working.  So here I am.  But at least I'm not sobbing. 

Be warned: if you plan to post about your progress in healing, be prepared for an immediate setback.  Mac can back me up, right?  I guess maybe the Lord was just trying to give me some more empathy, since I [sort of] asked. 

It is so difficult to write this.  I'll be honest, I've developed a little pride in my recovery.  Now I am eating humble pie. Blech.

Pete and I were headed out on a date when POW! A rear tire blew out.  It was 95 degrees outside and I opted to sit in the truck while he changed the tire.  I was bored, I grabbed his phone.  His phone is boring, no internet access (as a safeguard).  No blogs to read, no email to check, no Pinterest.  So I started perusing his text messages and came across a few texts he exchanged with his dad.  Slightly suspicious, nothing too incriminating.  I mostly forgot about it.  Fast forward as we are getting ready for bed and I felt guilty for reading his texts so I confessed.  Then I asked about the suspicious guilty-sounding exchange. 

Turns out...

You know the drill.  But it was a new one for me.

Pete has some justifications for his lack of honesty over the last six weeks, since the last "episode." But for once I don't feel like defending him.  He's got a blog now, he can explain if he feels compelled.

But sure enough, empathy came.  I hear all. the. time. the words:

"I could deal with the porn, it's the lies."

It stings. Bad.  Those feelings of "How could I not see?" Those hurt.  But mostly, for Pete and I honesty hasn't ever really been an issue.  And now it is.  It's not like years of lies, I am grateful for that.  But I feel like we've taken a step in a new, scary direction.  He doesn't see it that way, but I'm sure you can understand, that I do. 

And as a sort of side note to my pain, a little nagging issue.  All the things he wasn't telling me, he was telling his dad.  And why? I feel like I've come so far in the way I respond to his disclosures.  It feels a bit like I failed, like I still wasn't a safe place for him.  As if it was me who couldn't be trusted.

Maybe he's right, maybe this was something he needed to go through to have a break through.  I sure hope so.  As for me, I guess I'll be working a break through of my own.  Just when you think you've got it, a new spin, a new twist, a new betrayal.

My time machine

I finally came up with something for Angel's experiement.  Here it goes.

Lately I've been feeling like I'm forgetting all the pain.  I know, this is amazing, I should be grateful and thrilled, and for my own benefit, I am.  But I feel like I'm losing my empathy.  I also feel like I've heard so many stories, much worse, that I have no "right" to complain.   After group meeting the other night another woman, even more advanced in recovery than I am, and I were visiting.  She said she sometimes worries that when she says things like

"I'm so grateful for this experience..." or "I no longer worry or suffer..."

that the other women in the room want to ring her neck.  We agreed that it is nice to see that someone survived, that there IS hope.  But at the same time, I don't cry during meetings anymore and that almost makes me feel like an outcast.   (Not really, let me be clear, there are no outcasts in group meetings.)

Last night Pete and I had an argument.  It wasn't over anything substantial, but I rolled over in bed and closed my eyes.  I forced myself to think about nothing.  Breathe in. Breathe out.  Go to sleep.

Then I remembered.  I remembered, months ago, being curled up in the fetal position on the blue rug in our bathroom.  I let Pete take care of the kids while I first sobbed, and then closed my puffy eyes.  Forcing myself to think about nothing.  Breathe in.  Breathe out.  Go to sleep.  Escape reality. 

When the memory hit me the pain didn't come back, just the memory of the pain.  It was real.  It had hurt tremendously.  It felt like betrayal.  I was devastated.  I can relate.  I do have empathy.

The pain of everything in the past is gone.  It is truly gone.  I am healing.  I am totally uncertain about the future, there are no guarantees but I do feel prepared.  It has been two months since Pete's last relapse, and I am clueless as to if or when another episode will come.  But regarding what is behind me, it is at last, behind me. 

I don't mean to imply that I have "completed" recovery.  I'm not sure that is even something I can ever cross off a checklist.  It's a life process for me, even if Pete eventually overcomes addiction.  I am still sorting through issues.  So this is where I stand today:

-I am days away from having the most frightening conversation of my life.  I have completed my personal inventory for Step 4 and am preparing to share it. 
-I still struggle with intimacy and affection, and get frustrated with myself as I strive to have a healthy sexual relationship.
-I still feel regular temptations to return to codependent behaviors and constantly let the choices of other people determine my mood, attitude, and ultimate happiness. 

But,

-I have moved on from the debilitating fears of my husband's addiction, our future, his salvation, death and doom, to more managable fears about people not liking me, rejection, and failure. (Progress, right?)
- I have forgiven Pete for his past misdeeds.  I don't perpetually blame him for all the shortcomings of our relationship.
- I don't blame myself for any of Pete's past choices.
- I have a strong desire to reach out to others, to help them, to comfort them, and to give them hope.
- I have faith in God, that his divine plan for me is going to give me peace no matter what my mortal experience will entail. 
- I view the trials of others in a different light, it's sad and I feel awful for their pain, but I have faith in God's plan for them as well. 
- I have learned a new way to live, and a new way to love. 

I look forward to the coming year, for myself and for all of you!

Just So Ya Know

Do you ever find yourself fiercely defending your husband?  In group meetings? To a family member who "knows"?

"He has this problem, but otherwise he is a great guy. He is a good husband, hard working, a great dad..."  etc...

I have.  I do.  Even on this blog I've done it.  It's like we have to prove their worth and potential in spite of their obvious weaknesses.   In this blogging environment it's even harder because there is so much focus on their problem. 

Let me just say this:

I love Pete. I believe in him.  He has infinite worth and I am grateful for his many redeeming qualities.

I believe in your husband too.  He has infinite worth, and I am certain that he has redeeming qualities. 

I just want you to know that.  There are a couple women in my ward whose husbands I have seen at group meetings.  I don't think of them as perverts.  I don't think of them as sinners.  I love them, I admire their courage, and I am cheering for them and their wives.  So I hope this can still be your safe place, where you can share your feelings honestly without being afraid that I will judge your guy.

Which brings me to my next point.  I have constant inner turmoil and conflict about finding the balance between validating your feelings and perpetuating your frustrations.   If I come down harshly on the men, it's out of infinite compassion for the women.  But at the same time I don't want to contribute to any animosity or anger that is festering in our hearts. 

SOOOOOOO... what is this all about?  If you followed the comment stream on my last post (very thought-provoking) an anonymous reader shared some things about her husband.  She wanted to come to his defense after I called him out, but due to some technical difficulties we weren't able to post her comments: so here they are, I hope she doesn't mind.  But I want her to have her say.  (It might not make sense if until you go back and read our thread.)

Haha, maybe shouldn't have swung they counselor comment out there so quickly.  Don't worry, you can trust counselors!!! We have traveled a long road and as you can see from my comment I am probably not completely healed (kind of hard to find support when all of the counselors are your husband's colleagues).  But the sin really is behind him now...it is possible. Some of his perceptions still drive me nuts.. I think he was trying to tell me that he could see that guy's perspective...but the way he said it struck a wrong chord.  But he knows when he's off and he doesn't let it get into therapy.  He believes in healing families not tearing them apart. But just in case I I totally destroyed a layer of trust for anyone out there...as an FYI...he works for the church and he has to have a temple recommend at all times or he loses his job...and they check often.   Kind of a nice perk, if you ask me.  Nothing like having your livelihood depend on it to keep you in check.  And we've been to hell and back, so he knows his stuff :).

Anon:  no harm done.  I believe you that he knows his stuff.  A little empathy goes a long way and I imagine his ability to relate to his clients can help quite a bit.  I hope you find the healing you need.

This gets a bit heavy

I've been emailing with a fellow WoPA who has been dealing with this much longer than I have, which probably means more questions, more frustration, etc.  She raised an interesting point that really had me thinking.  I'll post her question here, and then my response but I'm interested in other opinions too, so speak up if it speaks to you. 

Her question:

"If one of the major keys to recovery for the addict is improving the relationship with the spouse, than this would imply that in some way a poor relationship was responsible for fueling the addiction in the first place. That just doesn’t seemto ring true."

The best I could come up with:

After doing a 4th step inventory, and evaluating my own past and present choices, attitudes, weaknesses and strengths I've realized this.  And I'm going to have to try really hard to get this to sound right.

My shortcomings in our relationship did contribute to the resentments my husband felt about our marriage.  But he had a choice how to cope with/handle those resentments.  He chose to go against his conscience, the teachings of the gospel and he experimented with pornography.  Was I partly to blame for the issues in our sex life? Yes.  Was I at ALL to blame for the choice he made to induldge in an addictive behavior? NO. 

Does that make any sense? I know it's hard to make the distinction, but I think it's there.  I truly believe that improving the relationship is helpful in my husband's healing, but the choice still remains his.  Just like he chose his way into addiction, he has to be the one to choose his way out.  

I want to take it one step further here, something else to chew on.  Like I said, these are new ideas for me and I'm still sorting through them.

Over the course of our marriage there have been times I have mistreated my husband.  Undoubtedly.  I'm not perfect.  His way of coping with the way I mistreated him was to act out in addiction.  I'm not sure he ever justified his behavior by pointing out to himself how I mistreated him, but it would definitely be a possibility.

His addictive behaviors were definitely a way he mistreated me.  And how did I respond?  I got angry, I was cruel, I guilted and shamed.  I mistreated him.  Was I justified in mistreating him because he mistreated me?

I mistreat him, he acts out in pornography addiction and by doing so mistreats me.  I act out by being hurtful and unkind.  (Talk about a vicious cycle!) Are either of us justified? I'll grant you that addiction is probably a greater sin than the ways I have hurt him, but the principle remains the same. 

He is no more to blame for my response to his behavior than I am to blame for his response to my behavior.

If I believe (and I absolutely do!) that he is responsible for the choices he makes when he is hurt or resentful, then it must follow that I am responsible for the chocies I make when I am hurt or betrayed.   It seems reasonable to assume that if I expect him to control his thoughts and behaviors after being hurt, I ought to be able to control mine. 

Right? Or no?

I Haven't Forgotten You

Dear Anonymous-
I read your comment and my heart went out to you.

How many triggers can there be out there?... a reminder of a moment of past trauma sneaks up and surprises you with a dose of emotion. Completely overwhelmed, and usually including unexpected crying. Each trigger is a new journey to crawl out of the emotional pit of pain. How long do the triggers last?

I can relate, especially to the unexpected crying.  I've been thinking a lot about what I can say, and I consulted with April/Scabs.  We talked and I'll share my thoughts (which might also be her thoughts.)

Regarding triggers, I know there is scientific evidence that they are subconscious, that we have no control over them.  And I believe this is true.  But we do have control in our response to them, and I also believe that as we learn to cope with our response the triggers lose their power. 

April pointed out to me that very often, triggers are lies, lies that act as fuel for our negative emotions.  They are feelings of hopelessness, lack of control, despair and hurt.  But we know there IS hope, we DO have control over our emotions and we CAN heal from despair and hurt. 

I think triggers are also based in fear.  We are afraid of what it will feel like when we are reminded of the indescretion of our husband.  We are afraid of what it will feel like when he relapses.  We are afraid of relinquishing our feelings of resentment, lest we forgive too quickly or lose our self-imagined influence. 

Why can't I put all this away? He's been clean for a few months. He thinks he will never use again. He says there are no temptations. How many times has this happened and then the cycle begins again? Will the worry about when the next bomb will drop ever release its hold?

It took Pete years, yes YEARS, to realize that a few months without temptation did not mean he was free from the addiction.  Marlee just posted the other day that her husband went 2 1/2 years sober.  I don't say this to discourage you, just to give you knowledge.  I've said it so many times but I'll say it again.  Ignorance is bliss, but knowledge is power.  This does not mean it is your job to convince your husband of this knowledge, let him come to it on his own.  But tuck it away in your aresenal so you can be prepared and accepting of the future.

There is a good chance he will relapse, and YOU WILL BE OKAY.  Ask Mac. 

I believe you CAN put it all away.  I know I don't worry about when the next bomb will drop anymore because I've let go of my fears about how badly that will hurt.  I know I will be disappointed and hurt, but I also know that I don't need to have anxiety about it.  I can cope with disappointment and hurt, I have faith that I will be taken care of by a loving Savior and Heavenly Father.  And I don't mean they will care for me by curing my husband, they will care for me by giving me an endowment of strength and peace during those difficult moments.  

These feelings don't come naturally.  I've had to discover them, nurture them and carefully select the emotions I want to keep around by making a deliberate effort to discard the ones I don't. The negative emotions still come to me.  For me it comes in the form of self-pity.  I fight it daily and sometimes I don't fight at all, I just wallow.  Those days are miserable.  I hate them.  But it is the path of least resistance, and unfortunately, we all know, it is resistance that builds strength.  So I try to resist the lies that creep in, and in doing so build strength against them.

My girl Scabs

A word about April.  I know I can share this in total love and I know she knows it because we've talked about it. 

But when I first saw "Eat My Scabs" comment on a post on A Blog About Love I was curious. 

Is she for real? Is she incredibly bitter? I read her blog, and truly it was hard for me. 

But I kept reading, and this is one of my tips about "Navigating the WoPA Blogs." 

Don't ever give up on someone.

I hope that someday there are SO many blogs we can't read them all.  At that point we'll simply have to narrow it down.  But if you can read every woman's story with love, recognizing that we are all trying to handle some really awful situations, and withhold judgment, stick it out.

I have stuck it out with Scabs and she has become one of my most admired women.  She is wise, and mature.  She is also boldly honest and candid.  She has been to Hell and back. 

I absolutely love her. 

So while I now affectionately refer to her as Scabs, I recognize that at first it's a brash title.  Don't discredit her, or anyone else.  She is remarkable. 


**POST EDIT:  I still want to go ahead and share this, on the off chance that one more person will read April's blog who isn't already.  But I don't mean to come across as self-important, or imply that she needs my endorsment in any way.  Really it's me who needs HER endorsement. :) Love you Scabs.

The Hard Conversations: Her Perspective

A Co-Post.  (Is there such a thing?) For "His Perspective" hop on over to Pete's blog.

Typically the hard conversations for us go something like this:

Spouse A brings up a sensitive issue.  "It bothers me when you do _________."

Spouse B gets defensive.  "Well, that's only because __________ and you aren't giving me any credit for all the times I don't do ____________."

We hash it out, place blame, get totally side-tracked on other issues and grievances and storm away.

A few minutes, hours, days pass and we reconcile.  We apologize for the ways we blamed, got distracted from the point, or lost our tempers.  But there is little resolution.  Sometimes we each make a conscious effort to do better at whatever was the root of the problem, but mostly we are so overcome with emotion we completely forget where we began.

The other morning we tackled a deep dark corner of Pete's recovery.  It was hard, excruciating for both of us.  Hard for him to say, hard for me to hear.  But at the end it was all okay.  So I'm just going to share what made it work for me.

The conversation took a different direction than I originally anticipated, but I was prepared.  I came into it with a personal confidence and security that gave me ground to stand on.  Our perspectives are so different that when he starts to say how he sees it, and I know I see it totally differently, it's hard not to get defensive.  Let me give an example, not related to our most recent discussion but certainly one we've had before:

He says:

"We never have sex."

I'm thinking, or usually shouting:

"That is SO NOT true" and I'm feeling resentful that he doens't appreciate the times we DO have sex. 

But the point I'm trying to make here is that when he says that, I can get in touch with reality, and think to myself

"Okay, that's not exactly true.  But hear him out.  It's not necessary to argue that point right now." 

So I tap back into my place of confidence and security, knowing that not everything he says is fact, and I don't have to let it make me angry or defensive.  Nor do I have to prove anything to him in that moment, especially if it means I have to interrupt him.  (CROSS-TALK IS PROHIBITED. Haha.)

When I can actually listen to what he's saying, instead of building evidence in my head, to present my case to him the second he stops for air, I try to consider the truth of what he's saying, rather than the lies.  I try to be honest with myself, and take what I need to and leave the rest. 

In that same spirit, I do not let myself become the victim.  I am so sensitive.  But the conversation becomes totally unproductive when I burst into tears and become a pathetic heap on the floor.  I am strong, I am capable of change, and even though what he is saying might hurt, I can listen and process it. 

In my last post I talked about how sometimes guys aren't really thinking anything.  But what I learned the other day is that sometimes Pete is thinking something, something he feels so horrible about that he can't bear to tell me.  The other day he finally found the courage to share with me a resentment that has festered in his soul for years.  I was shocked, and hurt.  I would say that I wish I'd sucked it out of him sooner, but the timing was never right and I probably couldn't have listened with an open heart like I was able to this time. 

I'm so glad it happened, as painful as it was.  I could visibly see a burden lifted from him, and released.  This is where I would insert a good analogy if I had one.  But I'll just say that we are all a work in progress, so are our relationships with each other.  I'm so glad we finally had one successful hard conversation.  Here's to hoping there is one for you too.

What were you thinking?!

Last night at group meeting  a woman said "It feels so good to know I'm not the only one who feels that way."

I reassured her, that for practically every thought, emotion, behavior, there is someone else who has been there.  I realized recently that a common phrase amongst wives of addicts is

"What were you thinking!?"  And I don't mean it as an angry, rhetorical question.  We really want to know. 

"What exactly were you thinking in the moments leading up to your indiscretion? Or the moments immediately after?"  As April described it to me: "Were you thinking- 'I'm hungry, I want a sandwhich...' or 'I just did something awful...' or 'My life is in shambles...'" 

WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?

And the famous response- (raise your had if you've heard it)-

"I don't know." 

It has frustrated me time and time again.  Even now, after I pour my heart out and he is staring blankly back at me, I can't bear it when I plead for a response and all he can offer is

"I don't know." 

Pete reminded me of an episode of the Simpsons where the family is attending a wedding.  As they all sit quietly in their seats the camera goes from one character to another and their thoughts are given voice.  Each one has thoughts appropriate to the wedding and in accordance with their character/personality.  When it gets to Homer the camera zooms in on his brain and you hear this

"Da da da da, da da da da da, HEY, da da da da." 

You get the idea.  It is one of life's most profound moments and yet his brain is, for all intents and purposes, blank. Obviously, satirical t.v. is based on exaggeration, but you get the point.

I really believe that men's brains are different.  Unlike women, they are capable of allowing empty space, not forming any identifyable conscious thoughts.   I think this sometimes contributes to their vulnerability for addiction, the empty space allows vacancy for unvirtuous and vile thoughts.  But that's another issue...

I don't think it is a good excuse for not addressing things that need to be addressed.  I think that it is in the man's best interest to force himself to form some kind of conscious thought.  But I'm learning that as irritating as it is, he might actually be telling the truth when he says. 

"I don't know." 

Having said all that- coming soon Pete and I are going to do a co-post about having the hard conversations.  We had one this moring.  It was both excrucating and healing.  So, while it might be the truth when he says he isn't sure what he is/was thinking, it might also be a cover-up, because the truth is so painful, or embarrassing, or horrific to him that he can't possibly imagine sharing it.

MY recovery = MY happiness

I'm glad that my little anecdote elicited compassion and sympathy. It's actually not what I was going for, but hey, I'll take it.  What I wanted to say is something I hesitate to say because I don't want women to change for the wrong reasons.  Scabs did a great job of explaining why detaching is so important for the woman.  But detaching is also so helpful for the man, or at least it has been for Pete and a few other specific examples I'm aware of.  If it were me, what would be the ideal environment for recovery? One of detached support, love and encouragement.  Or in the case of the example I used, it would look like this.

Pete saying to me: 

"I love you skinny or fat.  It is hard for me to see you be this way, and it is hurting our family.  I know you can change.  I will be here as your cheerleader along the way, but I will not be your personal trainer.  I will not make it my responsibility to monitor your behavior.  But I will congratulate you when you do well.  I will be disappointed when you fail, but I will not get [too] angry.  I will hug you and even though I don't trust your choices because you haven't made good ones in the past, they are yours to own.  You will have to live with the consequences of them, and it might hurt me to watch you, but I believe in you.  I have hope for you, and I will demonstrate that hope in the way I treat you." 

If I could tell all bishops one thing, I would say

"FOCUS ON THE WIFE."

Bishops can make the worst codependents, don't you think?  A women told me about how her bishop met with her and her husband and berated him for his actions.  It was incredibly uncomfortable for both of them during the appointment.  I don't mean to disrespect bishops, they are working with limited resources and I am sure they get frustrated too.  And it's often so infuriating that for a moment we think that kind of shame and anger will be productive and effective. [Who knows, maybe he was inspired and it was exactly what this man needed to turn around.]  But usually it's not, right? Consdering the example yesterday, I would have felt so worthless and unmotivated if someone tried to shame me into weight loss.  

But anyway- focus on the wife.  The guy knows where to get help.  We can come back to him.  But for now, lets focus on the wife.

When I was finally able to realize that I did not cause Pete's addiction, I can NOT control his behavior, and I that I can live in peace and happiness in spite of my circumstances, I felt free again. I found me again.  I became a better mother again.  I became a better wife than ever before.  

And the bonus? I know I've mentioned this before, but once I gave Pete the healthy emotional space to recover, he relaxed and moved forward in recovery.  For some, there may be a dark and scary rough patch in the meantime.  It's possible that once I left Pete to his own merits,  he would have crashed and burned.  He might have felt betrayed by me, and used it as justification for more bad choices.  He might have said stinging, hurtful things to try and draw me back into his self-destruction. 

But I knew that risk, I still know that risk.  And if he had, or ever does, I can make the appropriate choices with peace in my heart, knowing that I am healing, I have my own recovery, and I am going to be okay.

A wise woman recently pointed out to me, that even if Pete, or any other addict, quit cold turkey, our marriage wouldn't be safe until I found recovery.  Even if he never looked at porn again, I could live in bitterness and resentment in a mediocre relationship.   Even if I chose divorce, I might have still felt broken and destroyed.  It's MY recovery that will bring me happiness, not his.  And I really feel that he is statistically more likely to take responsibility for his recovery when I take responsibility for mine.  

Have I sufficiently beat this dead horse? Or do I need to bring it up again in the near future?