I don't think we are alone in this

Two weeks ago for the first time in a REALLY long time I caught J acting out again. Like was out-of-the-house-felt -like-I-should-go-home-instead-of-finishing-my-errands kind of caught him acting out. You know, I had honestly didn't think I would ever have to experience that again. I felt like he was at a point in his recovery where I would never have to go through that pain again. LIVING in the same home as the addiction is what hell feels like, I am sure of it.

That is not the point. I live here in Utah County, and had transferred to a lifestar down here in provo- but they don't have a women's group. Well they "have" a women's group, but every week since I transferred down, it has been cancelled. It is the first negative experience I have had with lifestar since we started almost two years ago, and I miss Tyler and my old group more than anything right now. *ugh, I'm crying. Ugh* I need a group right now, but I am tied to my work right now where I can't be more than 10 minutes away from work every other week. I need to admit a lot of things that I have been in denial about to a group, and get the support, love, and good advice that I get when I am with them. 

So guys, because I don't have that, I am using this page to admit something:

I need to admit that I have been co-dependent. I have thrown my spirituality under the bus because I don't want to make J feel uncomfortable or set him off because he is avoiding all things spiritual right now. I have not let him know how uncomfortable I am with having a TV in my house again now that both of our recoveries have slid back so far because it's his TV and I don't want to set him off. I have let him hug me and cuddle me when I am totally in trauma mode, because I know that it's his love language, and if I don't he feels rejected and I don't have the strength emotionally to be ready fight that battle.

There I admitted it.

How have I dealt with it, you ask? Did I jump over to my self-care list and draw some meaningful work to help build myself again? Nope. Did I throw myself into my school work so that I can help build my future? Absolutely not, I went over to my good friend Hulu and drowned my emotions in a nice and numbing "buzz." Suddenly I didn't have to think about all the work I needed to do to get myself out of this helpless mindset, instead I could think of characters that didn't even matter and THEIR worries. It's so much easier to worry about someone else, especially when that person doesn't even exist. I'm not proud to admit it, but even today I turned to it. I have hours of down time at work, and it is turning into a habit. It makes me sick to think about how many hours I have wasted on it.  

This has been going on for the past two weeks, but a few days ago, something happened. A "psychic" came into the office to do business. In the middle of the transaction, she asked if I had a grandmother that had passed away, which I haven't, but I do have a great-grandmother who has so I said yes. She said that she was a psychic and that there was an older lady by me and that she (the older lady) said that she was my guardian angel. I don't believe in psychics, the thought of them gives me the heebeegeebees. But I often do feel like my great grandmother is around, watching out for me. She wasn't a member, but when I was a young woman, I had the opportunity to be baptized for her in the temple, and I felt her with me as sure as I live. I knew that she had accepted it, and that she loved me for it. I don't necessarily believe that the psychic saw my grandmother, but I do appreciate the reminder that I have someone on the other side rooting for me. 

My mom lived with an alcoholic and abusive father as a child, and my great-grandma Hattie had always protected her, and told her when to leave the room when things were starting to get scary.  Looking back at my life, I really think that Grandma Hattie has been with me throughout this scary time of my life. I feel the spirit so strong whenever I think of her, and I know that she is now a spiritual giant, trying to do all she can to help me do what I need to do to be happy. I feel her near me often, and I love her dearly even though I have never met her.

I really don't think that we are alone in this. 

In fact, I know we are not. The Savior is here for us, for me, waiting with arms wide open, waiting for me to run back into them, pleading for me to get there as fast as I can so he can heal me.

I found this quote during my scripture study today, and I think it's a perfect way to end this very emotional post of mine today (I have been writing this at my desk with tears streaming down my face):

"However dim our days may seem, they have been a lot darker for the Savior of the world. As a reminder of those days, jesus has chosen, even in a resurrected, otherwise perfected body, to retain for the benefit of His disciples the wounds in His hands and in His feet and in His side- signs, if you will, that painful things happen even to the pure and the perfect; signs, if you will that pain in this world isn not evidence that God doesn't love you: signs, if you will, that problems pass and happiness can be ours. Remind others that it is the wounded Christ who is the Captain of our souls, He who yet bears the scars of our forgiveness, the lesions of His love and humility, the torn flesh of obedience and sacrifice. These wounds are the principal way we are to recognize Him when He comes. He may invite us forward, as He has invited others, to see and to feel those marks. If not before then surely at that time, we will remember with Isaiah that it was for us that a God was 'despised and rejected...; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief' that 'he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him and with his stripes we are healed. - Jeffrey R. Holland (Teaching, Preaching, Healing Ensign, Jan 2003)

Marvelled.

I am one of those people who like to look back and see how much I have changed, I tend to do it a lot. As a freshman in college, I looked back at my high-school self, and marveled that I was even the same person. On the day I got married, I marveled at how only a year before I had just met J, some cute guy that looked and sounded like Justin Timberlake, I couldn't believe back then I had truly thought that things were the only way to make me happy- having the right shoes/clothes/decor... A year later, I thought I had figured out the meaning for my- to marry the man I loved, and save him from his addiction- life was about being completely selfless.

A year later, I looked bitterly back at that girl on her wedding day, so full of hope and wept that my life of hope was over, and wept over the hollow shell that a year of emotional abuse, rape, and manipulation had turned me into. I thought about killing myself, but was saved through a series of miraculous events that are too sacred to share.

Six months after that, I marveled at how much of my pain therapy was helping me to face, and I marveled at the possibility for more change. Over the past year, I have been amazed at how much I have grown. I look back at the person I was before, and it's hard to recognize that girl. I know that along the way, some people only know me for the person that I was at that time in my life, and it makes me a little sad- because sometimes I don't even recognize the person that I was then most of the time.

I am happy because I believe that this is the way that it is supposed to be- life is supposed to be ever changing. We are supposed to ever change with it. My problem as of late, is believing that I have sort of hit the end of my "change." It's sort of ridiculous now that I have written it out... for the past month, ever since the big move, I have looked back and marveled at how far I have come in the 1 year and 4 months that I have been in therapy.

I marvel when I give my sister advice and it is definitely not the same advice I would have given earlier in my life. I marvel when I am able to walk away from drama without saying a snide remark on my way out. I marvel when I give angry people in the grocery store the benefit of the doubt, thinking who knows, maybe they are going through the hell I have known...

The change is so incredible that I have stopped seeking the change! I have stopped looking for ways to improve... I started taking credit for my own accomplishments rather than thanking heavenly father for blessing me with ways to improve, and for the progress I have made.

But watching Elder Uchtorf's talk again today made me realize that I can't stop. I have the Lowe's theme in my mind right now: "Never stop improving." I think the reason why life is starting to get harder is because I have stopped doing the little dailies that help me to feel whole. Doing those little things DAILY is a fantastic way to start improving again.

My husband and I are going to start up fresh at another Lifestar program where we moved, and I am really excited for it. I am hoping that by having gone through it once before, I will be able to glean some new information that I was too traumatized before to take advantage of. I am really going to miss Tyler (our last therapist- here's my shameless plug: If any of you are in the Logan area and don't know where to start in your journey to recovery- PLEASE, I beg you please look up Tyler. He is amazing, and I don't know where I or my husband would be with out him- and no I didn't get paid to say that ;))

I am determined to pick my lazy bum up, and point my arrow back towards heaven. I am going to stop turning on the TV to numb. I am going to find a way to fit exercise into my schedule again, and I most definitely will be actually CALLING people again (Lisa, I mean you ;). When did I stop doing all of this? I have no idea! It was such a gradual thing.

So if any of you were over here with me on the ground watching the Marvel train go by, let's hold hands and jump back on so that we can LIVE the marvel! It's good look back and see progress, but when it hinders your here and now, you know that it's time to start looking forward again.

AHH I just feel so much love for all my WOPA sisters right now, it's overflowing!! If you are reading this, consider yourself hugged.

Prep it up.

Today is the last day of my "on week." (I work on a week, off a week).

I thought today I would use this blog as a way to be accountable, and in order to do that, I have to set some goals for my upcoming off week!

Goal #1: Self Care. Self Care. Self Care. I know that it wont make up for a week without much of it, but it can't hurt to do as much as possible so that I CAN feel good on my next on week, Like I can actually put up my decorations so that I am not stressed having them all over the floor.

Goal #2: Be social. I am going to gab this week.

Goal #3: Stay on top of my dailies, and get into a morning routine so I can get in the habit of incorporating dailies into my life again.

Goal #4: Enjoy being able to spend time with my son! Woot woot! That means getting outside while it's still warm!

Goal #5: Shower and make a conscious decision on what I am going to wear and how I am going to look that day.

Also, here's a shoutout to little victories:
My husband almost got a smartphone today, like literally was walking out the door to get it, but didn't feel right about it so he didn't! It is little victories like that that give me hope for the future!

Survival

First Matter of Business: The check in:

My husband has this analogy: he calls it the toothpaste analogy. He always says that just because you brush your teeth one day doesn't mean that you can count it for the next day too. He is always applying this to recovery work. Like recovery work has to be a daily thing, right? Anyway, I got this new job that has me working all week from 9-5, and then being on-call for the rest of the night. BUT then I get the whole next week completely off. When I heard about the set-up, I was all "HECK YES!" but I didn't think about how the toothpaste analogy applies to this situation. I LOVE my off weeks. I HATE my on weeks. Don't get me wrong, I love my job. But i don't love my job+husbands crazy hours+trying to be a mommy all at the same time. That leaves me almost zero me time, and no self-care. 

How do you working mamas DO it??

I am in shock and awe at what you do, and seriously need some pointers. 

Second Matter of Business: The Vomit:

I have decided to call this the vomit because this is the stuff that I don't know what to do with, but I want to understand my feelings towards it, so I'm just going to vomit it all up right now:

1. We went to see the Bishop two days ago. I felt like he (the bishop) was physically there, but mentally somewhere else. Which was fine for a first meeting. J told the bishop that he was an addict, and that we were formally in therapy support groups where we came from. The bishop (still didn't feel like he was all there) smiled and said "that's fine" and then told us that there was a mens support group for addicts in the stake. Then we moved along and that was it. J felt good about telling him, but I felt off. As I'm writing this, I'm realizing that its probably because after that moment he didn't look at me until we shook hands to say goodbye. I guess I'm sick of having to tell bishops that this also effects the wives, and that the trauma that is caused by this stupid addiction is real. I really really wish that there was some kind of meeting where all the bishops got together and someone could tell them to watch out for the wives. BUT that is me going into victim mode, which is a form of denial. I am a strong and independent woman, and I can do this again. And again. And I can keep educating and showing that this is a real thing.

2. I miss my therapy girls. It's hard not having that check-in every single week. It's hard to KNOW that I can't go to lunch with them if one of us really needed it. It's crazy, because it's not like we got together every week, but it was nice knowing they were there. There seriously needs to be some sort of support group in southern utah county because I KNOW I'm not the only one out here.

3. J keeps going in and out of recovery. I can't do anything about it. Bah. Reading that sentence that I just wrote made me realize that I have ZERO control over anything he does. Man it's hard to let that go. *deep breath*  Ok. I commit to taking control of my recovery. I will either write on this blog or refer back to my recovery binder every day before I allow myself to get lost on Hulu and try to numb the pain. I will face life in a way that will ultimately make me happy. There. I said it. 

Embarrassing, Enlightening, and Empowered.

*warning* This is a post chuck full of embarrassing stories and recovery fails... followed by a recommitment to jump back into life and recovery.

I moved. I have moved away from my central source of support. It seemed like such a good idea at the time. But now I am here, and I am unpacking, and I feel like each box is putting me further away from my amazing support group back home. My awesome neighbor that got me out for a walk every morning, my lifestar group of girls, my mother-in-law, who didn't mind watching my little guy at the drop of a hat, and he LOVED going there.

Now, I moved into an apartment in the middle of nowhere. My one neighbor is so emotionally checked out that I feel like I'm talking to a wall a little bit, and very judged when I try to be real. I haven't been taking care of myself because there is SO MUCH TO DO. School started this week. First week of work. Unpacking. Husband being gone.

and then there is the worrying:
1. First- about my son and the fact that he has no idea what the heck is going on. He has been shuffled around so much the last few weeks as we have been moving, and then to top it all off, his mama starts dropping him off to a daycare- which he has never done before, and he hasn't seen his daddy nearly as much. It went from a we were basically always together sort of a thing to WAPOW- Ope, now we are too busy for you, have fun at daycare. (Obviously ALOT of shame going on right there.)

2. Second- about the fact that because his world has been thrown upside-down, he hasn't been sleeping very well- which means that I haven't been sleeping very well either. Let me tell you, sleep is one of those NECESSITIES that help me to take care of myself. I don't think very well on this little of sleep.

3. Third- our new apartment has cable. I don't want to break any bottom lines by just chucking it, because I don't know why I would by doing it. I definitely wont be using it much, so it seems like a hassle to set it up for hardly any use... but I also think I would be tossing as a way to save J the trouble of having to slip before deciding that it's a good idea to toss it.

4. Fourth- (TMI? maybe) I have been wearing the same garments for the last 5 days because I have NO idea where I packed them. Yep- a sign that I have DEFINITELY not been taking care of myself.

5. Fifth- I have ALOT of unpacking to do- and I just finished packing, so it's the last thing I want to do right now, and I don't have J to help with it.

and then there is what I have done about it:
Up until last night, I haven't really done anything about it. and i have had a constant lump in my throat, tightness in my chest, and I have cried every time I have talked about any one of those things.

And then Heavenly Father sent me a miracle: I hit rock bottom. I peed my pants. Haha!! I had ran myself so rugged yesterday that I didn't give myself time to go to the bathroom, so as I was trying to find my keys to get inside the apartment last night, it suddenly hit me: I needed to pee. and NOW. Problem is that I wasn't so familiar with my new keys for the new place that I didn't know which one to use. I sort of danced my way over the the curb to sit down and figure out which one to use, and that helped for a minute, and I was able to find the right key! I was walking towards the door when I couldn't hold it ANYMORE!! I am embarrassed to admit that I peed my pants on my own doorstep. Luckily my son was asleep, so I hurried and changed, and put him in his own bed... and realized what a miracle it was that the only pair of garments I had were no longer wearable!! I took a bubble bath. And during my bubble bath I realized that that was the first time that I had done anything for myself in TWO WEEKS! So I shaved my legs.

I tell you what, I came out of that bubble bath a new woman. So although last night was a little rough with the little one, I woke up with a new resolve. I was going to take care of myself! I am going to listen to my favorite music while I am unpacking. I bought some new garments! I am going to write on my blog and talk to some of my fellow WOPAS, and I am going to gosh dang it go to the bathroom when I need to! Whew!

I am so relieved.

And I'm starting to love life again.

P.S. If any of you are in the Utah County area, let me know! I want to build up an awesome support group, and I think it would be mutually beneficial! ;)

Just when you think you have it...

Let me preface what I'm about to say with a little bit of background about what's been happening for the last few months. J has been doing so great with his recovery- getting a whopping 4 week of sobriety under his belt. As his wife, it has been amazing to see the progress and the confidence that even the 4 weeks of honest sobriety can do.

That being said. Summers are hard. Holidays are hard. And the Fourth of July this year was no exception. Things had been going SO WELL. Despite the heat and the subsequent summer clothing. The night before the 4th of July, we had all our stuff together to do a 15k at 5 the next morning. We had his parents ready and waiting to watch our boy, so that the two of us could go do this race that we have been training for. Following the race, the plan was to head down to my parent's to spend the fourth with them.

Morning comes, and I wake up thinking that it looks a little bit too light for it to be 5 in the morning, so I look at the clock.... sure enough. It was 6:45. We were both pretty upset about it. But for J, it hit him especially bad. He was extremely grumpy- and it was all I could do to stay out of drama. Not going to lie, I didn't stay out of drama as well as I would have thought. We got into a fight about something silly, and I saw it going south fast. He decided to go to sleep. (stupid addict naps- and that was the end of the 4 week streak) And after a while, I couldn't take it anymore, so I loaded up the car and was about to leave for my parents without him. I started to actually go. But I HATE bringing my marriage drama home! Hate it.
So I pulled back into the driveway, and I marched in and demanded that he come with. He pulled his power trip by dragging his feet, and not talking to me unless to comment on how inefficient I had been. (BLAME)

It slowly got better, and the trip ended up being pretty fun and enjoyable.

We got home two days ago. I went to church to play piano in primary, and J stayed home with our sick son. We went on a walk, enjoyed each other's company, and I thought we were back on a path towards another uphill climb, hoping this time would be easier because of the length of the last sober period.

OK. That brings me up to date, and now I can finally talk about the current situation, and I would like to hear if anyone can relate to this: He says he doesn't want to act out, but he is being so MEAN. Blaming, manipulation, extremism, passive aggressiveness, controlling... I could go on. And to top it all off: he says I am the one "holding him back."

Today he called me an F***ing B***. twice. TWICE. I have been verbally beaten up sporadically throughout the day, and I do not deserve it. Granted, I broke a bottom line and stepped into control phase for literally 2 minutes. But no matter my actions in that regard, I do. not. deserve. that. verbal. abuse. So I set a bottom line around it. I left the house immediately after the climax of it all, and took my son on a drive. On the drive, I tried to call my group members, but they didn't answer, so I just tried to be mindful about what I needed to do without going into drama.

I called him. Instantly he apologized for what he said (like he always does, and gets away with most of the time), and I told him that it really hurt me, and that it was not okay. I told him that I didn't want to see him, and that I would be home in an hour. I asked him if he would stay the night somewhere else. He said "what if I say no?", and I said "We will find somewhere else to stay." And by golly, I meant it. I am over getting verbally walked all over. I don't think it's healthy for my son to be around either.

I hope that my setting this boundary, along with helping me feel more safe in my home, will help him to see that this kind of behavior from him will no longer be tolerated by me. It has become a pattern for it to be okay for him to trample over me when he's upset, but it is not okay anymore. I'm nervous and worried about what the consequences will be at the end of the day, but I am wanting whats best for my family, and that means taking care of myself and my son while my husband works his addiction recovery.

Puppet Master No Longer

Freedom.
Non-compliance.
I don't know how to explain how I'm feeling right now, but the feeling is burning inside of me, so I want to get it in front of me, and I'm using my keyboard as my tool of choice.

My husband is going through that period of self discovery that he never really went through as a teenager. That time where you question everything and what some people see as rebelling- but really just wanting to test the waters to see what you REALLY believe, and trying things out to see how they make him feel... Questioning what he's always believed.

It's weird.
But I think it's a MUCH needed phase, even if it's scary. Wholly cow. I am sounding like a mom. Which I am. But who knew I would be learning these lessons with my husband while my child is almost two years old.

I am so used to asking him to do something, and having him do it, no questions asked... But now there are MANY questions asked. I'm going through a love/hate relationship of this change in our dynamic.

I was just about to say that I'm working really hard to let it go and give it to god- to surrender... Which I have been doing, surrendering that is- but I haven't been working all that hard at it. When Christ said that his burden/yolk is light, he wasn't kidding!! It has literally been the most relieving thing that I have ever done in this whole process- let it go. *insert huge sigh of relief*

I don't mean I've given up anything- just my desire to control or judge any other human being ever again. (Or as much as humanly possible) I mean, what kinds of mountains could I move if I used this amounts of energy on things that actually work- things that will actually get me somewhere. Like self affermations, planning a future, investing time in my son, getting healthy, pulling myself out of whater funk I've been in for the past 3 years... 

This is true freedom! I'm finding it in my healing- and I trust that my husband is working towards the same end goal... No matter how he gets there, it's good to know that at least we are seeking freedom from the same source- by means of a spiritual and personal journey to know ourselves and Christ better. 

I feel free from my former role of puppet master, and I bet it feels good for him to feel like the strings have been cut as well.