In The Meantime

Gosh- how often I've mourned the lost time that has been dedicated to recovery.  My so-called recovery has ebbed and flowed, and ebbed to the point of obsession at times.  I'm starting to feel a longing to resume old interests, pursue new ones, and try to use my recovery time more efficiently.  But for anyone who has felt like pornography addiction, or another tragedy, or even just life, has gotten in the way of their dreams, this [cheesy mommy] song is for you.

But today, it is ESPECIALLY for my friend Alicia, because there have been moments when I have been that aching heart that only she could lift. 

Alicia- Heaven hears the joy of every victory in your life, and heaven hears your heart before you cry.  And girl- I KNOW you are being sanctified.




Thank you to all my other friends who have been a friend. And for each of you- don't doubt your place, or your ability to be a gift and blessing in someone else's life. 

Hang in there peeps.  

Ain't nothin' gonna break-a-my-stride!

I think I had a mini-anxiety attack last night.  My heart felt like it was racing and I felt like I couldn't catch my breath. I got in a hot bath but the heat just made me feel like I was suffocating.  So I wrapped my towel around me and stood in a discreet place just outside my garage in the black night. It was so cold but I watched my warm breath float up into the dark sky while steam came off my bare feet.

I had a much needed (obviously!) therapy appointment scheduled for today and I couldn't find anyone to watch my kids.  Ordinarily I could cope with a little obstacle like that...

Lasting motivation just won't stick around for me. I do well for a few days, and then I have a sad moment, which turns into a sad day, which turns into a sad week. And before I know it my life has become unmanageable again.  (Um, Step 1 please?) And by unmanageable I am referring to the fact that I have gained 12 pounds in six months, and may or may not have mold growing in more than one place in my kitchen.

So while I am not sure what I need to help me find sustainable progress, a good song always helps.

Here is my new theme song.  If this throwback doesn't make you LOL, you might be worse off than EVEN ME! And I apologize if the green polka-dot/sequin leotards trigger you.  I found them ridiculously comical.

Fantasies (Rated PG)

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Pete and I were talking once about fantasy and reality.  It seems that addicts love to live in their fantasy world.

"What's so wrong with your reality?" I asked.  Feeling hurt that I was the woman in his reality and it felt as though he preferred his fantasy. 

"Don't YOU ever have fantasies?" He asked. 

I assumed he meant sexual fantasies and my mind drew a blank.  But I'm beginning to understand that I indulge in a fantasy world too.

I fantasize about waking up in the morning when my body feels rested, and just lying there in the comfort of my blankets, without little voices and faces pestering me about breakfast and cartoons.

I fantasize about getting a phone call at 4:00 from Pete where he says "Don't worry about dinner tonight.  I'm getting take-out.  What sounds good to you?"

At church I fantasize about someone saying something wonderful about me from the pulpit, complimenting me in front of the entire congregation.

I fantasize about having a friend who stops by for no reason.

I fantasize about moving with my little family to Amsterdam and living in a tiny cramped apartment.  We would ride our bikes everywhere and on the weekends in the Spring we would go see the dutch tulips. 

I fantasize about having a mother who loves herself enough to love and accept me unconditionally.

And of course, sometimes I fantasize that sex addiction isn't a part of my life.  I imagine Pete spending his evenings eating dinner with us, and going to movies with us rather than attending SA meetings.  I dream that our hardest conversations would be about our six-year-old's fiery temper.  I fantasize about never seeing that look on his face right before a confession, and the excruciating anticipation about what the words are going to be. 

So, I'm sorry if you are disappointed.  The most scanadalous fantasy I ever have is when I daydream that this song was written about me. 



There are a lot of fun covers of this song.  Brandon Flowers here and T. Swift here. 

Such a Mournful Sound

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It gets worse before it gets better.  The eternal truth that I periodically rehearse in my mind to ward off discouragement; that friend of insanity who makes me feel like there is no progress. 

"You have anxiety." My therapist said to me a few weeks ago.  I chuckled.

"No. I don't have anxiety."

"Yeah. You do." She chuckled back at my disbelief.  And then she made her case and I was convicted on two counts of anxiety and social anxiety, and one count of situational depression.  These weren't "official" diagnoses, just her observations. 

Well crap, I thought. 

Awareness is always the first step, right? And with awareness comes that awful sense of impending doom that nothing will change, that yes, things are MESSED UP in my head.  And that's enough to make me eat an entire bag of chocolate covered coconut macadamia nuts I brought home from Hawaii. 

My counselor suggested I observe my "congnitive distortions."  That required a little research.  After identifying a few that I knew were habitual thinking errors of mine, I began noticing them a little more. I've also been aware of the knot in my stomach when fear creeps in.  And there may have been hours spent wallowing in my bed while my kids watched episode after episode of Sesame Street on Netflix.

"I'm soooooo depressed..."  I moaned to myself. 

I've mentioned it before but I am obsessive about the song "Shake It Off" by Florence and the Machine.  It has become my mantra, my theme song, the soundtrack to the year 2013 in the life of Jane. 

"Every demon wants his pound of flesh" Florence wails. 

Ohhhhhhh demons.  My demons are anxiety, depression, despair, FEAR, and they make excessive and cruel demands on me.  Sometimes they seem so powerful, I feel I have no strength to face them, let alone conquer them.  They suck the life out of me.  They leave me hopeless and gaunt, lethargic and melancholy.

"Looking for heaven found the devil in me." She laments.  My soul cries AMEN FLORENCE! I spent a year exerting a valiant effort into recovery. And what did I end up with? A crisis of faith.  Everything I drug out of the closets of my relationships, all my character flaws I unearthed during my Step 4 inventory, the lack of Pete's recovery despite MY diligent endeavors on our behalf, it was too overwhelming.  I shut down emotionally. 

Why DOES it get worse before it gets better? I really do feel like I challenged all my demons to a playground brawl, and then panicked when I saw their tenacity, when they surrounded me like a childhood nightmare. 

"I am done with my graceless heart."

She sang to me this morning as I blared her anthem on repeat through my headphones and cranked up the speed on the treadmill, determined to run the demons out of me. 

"I can do this. I can overcome this."

Faster, faster, faster. 

"I will do this.  I will overcome this."

I am done with my graceless heart. 

At group meeting the other night someone defined grace as "divine strength."  There is absolutely no way I can fight these demons alone.  I simply don't have it in me.  I'll give this grace thing a shot.  It's my last gasp. 

"And I'm ready to suffer, and ready to hope....
 
It's always darkest before the dawn."

How many hits can a good girl take?

Apparently Hawaii went worse than I thought it did... Pete unloaded a wheelbarrow full of crappy confessions on me last night.   You can read the juicy details on his blog. 

I don't feel much like writing about it.  But it's been awhile since I've posted a song so here is my current self-pity tune.