Showing posts with label addiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label addiction. Show all posts

Sunday, May 20, 2012

Taking Care

I haven't been here in so long, I forgot this was in my drafts waiting to be finished and published. I think I'll just finish it now...

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A year and a half ago I joined Weight Watchers. I've lost 20lbs so far....but it should've been more. And I say that not to be self-depricating, but because I'm admitting that I haven't been taking it very seriously. Most of the time, I'm not really trying to follow the program. It's super-difficult for me to keep a weight-loss program up high on the priority list. Is this any surprise, really? This, in fact, is the problem: I don't take care of myself and I'm not allowed to (says me). My kids are more important. My husband and his issues are more important. Taking care of my home-- that's my identity-- that's more important.

But slowly, s l o w l y... I am learning to move myself up on that priority list, slowly I'm starting to see and believe how taking care of myself benefits my family.

But what does that even mean? Again, slowly... I'm learning... I have two friends that come to mind who have asked me how that's going, or what I'm going to do this week to take time for "me" (note to self: let them in!).

Sometimes when I am stressed, bored, overwhelmed, or whatever emotion I find painful, I start wanting to eat. It makes no sense to me: what will eating solve? Now that I'm thinking about it more I realize I'm not really even hungry...or am I? I don't know if I'd know hungry if it growled in my stomach. My brain says eat. My body says, "no thanks, I'm cool."

Years ago, my mom sent me a series of books by Geneen Roth. I finally cracked one open, and in Feeding the Hungry Heart I read this:
"Binges are purposeful acts, not demented journeys. They do not signify a lack of willpower or the inability to care for yourself. On the contrary, a binge can actually be an urgent attempt to care for yourself when you feel uncared for. Binges speak the voice of survival. They are protective mechanisms. Binges are signals that something is terribly wrong, that you are not giving yourself what you need-- either physically (with food) or emotionally (with intimacy, work, relationships). They are your last stand against deprivation."
When I read this, a lightbulb went on. I'm not sure why I couldn't admit it before, but suddenly I let myself recognize my true feelings: I feel uncared for.

Sure, as the wife of a sex addict in full swing, you are uncared for. To the extreme, you might even be flat-out abused, physically, emotionally, spiritually, etc. But right now, at this point in my life, at the space I'm in where our marriage is fairly healthy and my own issues are bubbling to the surface,  feeling uncared for happens in seemingly benign situations. If the kids are fighting and agitated when they're getting ready for school, and then we're late and I didn't have breakfast and someone's complaining about what's in their lunch and someone else forgot their jacket or shoes (yes, that has happened!) I suddenly can't get my mind off what I'm going to order when I am smiling at the barista in give-or-take 15 minutes. But I haven't had breakfast, where can I get a gluten-free pastry? Because I definitely deserve some elaborate pastry at this point. And now I'm driving half-way across town to "take care" of myself when I would've actually been better cared for by quickly going home, fixing a healthy breakfast and taking a bike ride with the baby. And doesn't my insanity sound just like a certain sex addict I know...?

So now I'm on the lookout for times when I feel uncared for. I'm not sure what to do in those moments, but I know what NOT to do. That's a start.

Monday, January 30, 2012

Confession: I Have An Addiction Too

Confession: I have an addiction too.

I've been wanting for a while to introduce my own struggle with addiction to this blog, publicly taking note of the many ways my and my husband's symptoms overlap and how this helps us to understand and support each other, but I have much bigger priorities, like laundry and a toddler...

(I seriously just had to break in the middle of that sentence to start a load of pee-pee sheets and do a puzzle.)

Anyway... now that I'm here, writing it down for the world to see, I'm having a hard time deciding how to label my addiction. I am addicted to _______? In fact, I'm not sure that telling you I'm addicted to a particular one thing is going to paint an accurate picture of what I struggle with.

More accurately, I medicate.

Mostly, I medicate with food. Sometimes with spending money. When it's money, it usually overlaps with food; I'm not racking up credit card debt on closets-full of clothes. We have an extremely tight cash-only budget, and if I can weasel out a dollar here and there from the gas or groceries, I don't save it for something that we need and can't afford, like new tires. I'll use it to "treat" myself with eating out or getting a coffee. And I won't tell. I don't want my kids to be jealous and think we eat out now and start begging me for stuff I have say no to. I don't want my husband to be disappointed that I'm using our precious dollars for something other than what it was allocated for, especially when it's me who's making such a big deal about sticking to the budget. And once I eat or drink it, the evidence is gone!

The primary mindset of an addict is, "if you really knew me, you wouldn't love me," and I can't help but feel that now. I've only described a fraction of the sneakiness in my heart, and now I'm sure you think I'm a creep and a loser.

Actually, that's just what I'm thinking. You are most likely excusing me, or thinking I'm ridiculous for making such a big deal over a cup of coffee. Sure, there are a bunch of reasons why I deserve a latte once in a while, or why it should be okay to let someone else whip me up some Pad Thai when doing all that work at home will go largely unappreciated. But it's when I'm stealing from our budget to medicate stress at the expense of my family's overall well-being, and the fact that I'm intentionally keeping it a secret that my motives turn the event into something destructive. And I do this more often than I'm aware of because I largely tune-out my motives so I can get away with it. At least, I think that's what I do...

But I'm working on it. Slowly, over this past year or so, I've been trying to cut through the haze of my own medicated state to see and understand what the heck is going on with me. There are so many layers! Physically, emotionally, spiritually... and I'd love to hash some of those things out here.

I am really loving being married a recovering addict these days....I'm in good company :)

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Hoping...in what, exactly?

He calls me, excited at spending more time with one of "his guys", getting to share more of our story. "And it's encouraging people!" He is clearly smiling on the other end of the connection. Today, at this moment, he is having a good day.

But. I am not feeling encouraged. In fact, I am increasingly losing hope.

I am feeling the weight of a string of little betrayals, little slips, little character flaws coming to the surface. Lately, he has not been fighting like a warrior; in fact, he reminds me of a teenager who doesn't want to do his homework, whining and procrastinating and... failing the Test.

I'll be straight with you, it turns me off. Mighty warrior, fighting for God, fighting for me... now that's sexy! Lazy, acne-ridden teenager? Not so much.

My hope comes into question, then. Am I just a loony, hanging on to this? Should I be kicking myself in the rear for placing just a tiny bit of hope in having a husband who loves me and fights for me, who honors God and raises his children with intentionality and fervor? He seemed like he was on his way to maturity, one of the strongest men I know, to get this far. He has fought through so many obstacles....

But is it all just there, under the surface, like cancer cells, waiting to spring up and kill us off? How much of remission is his will to survive, and how much is still generations of sin, hidden, clinging on?

What am I hoping for, anyway?
Am I hoping that he will grow into a husband who loves me and our kids with his subservience to God?
Am I hoping that we just somehow stop passing on the majority (if not all) the psycho strongholds we brought into marriage?
Am I hoping that I will manage to honor my Father God with my own heart's intentions, whatever may come of my husband? That's a hard one...because how do you explain it to the kids: all the subtle ramifications of his sin that affect their lives: lost jobs, parents not being on the same page, his subtle isolation from them and from mommy. When they ask the questions and I know the answer, and I have to do something I rarely do: not trust them with the truth. What about all that?
We lay our hope, full and tender, into the depths of Him and wait in hope for God to resurrect something good. Good always necessitates long waiting. --Ann Voskamp

I have to teach them that God is trustworthy. That we can wait in hope for God because he is doing a good thing...we just have to wait. Maybe even generations. They might have to wait too, not ever seeing what we all want to see: Daddy choose God and Mommy over medicating his discomfort. Daddy finding his identity in God, trusting the process, fighting through pain like a warrior who has a legacy to protect, a King to serve!

I don't know how I'll explain those awkward, painful things. I have to hope that God will meet me in those moments too. I have to hope that God is resurrecting something good in me, and consequently, in my children. Not only in spite of my addict husband, but--I'll admit it--in spite of...me.

Monday, August 22, 2011

Remembering the Promise

Many times, in order to keep perspective on what addiction recovery is all about, I think of myself as being married to someone with a medical condition. For instance, if my husband, whom I love dearly and have committed my life to-- in sickness and in health-- had had a stroke, I wouldn't have up and left him saying, "I didn't sign up for this! Hmph!" While stroke and addiction are very different, strokes are debilitating, unfair and therefore a kind of painful betrayal, and while you will  never be the person you were before, it is often possible to recover almost completely with years of patient, hard work. It would be heartbreaking and immeasurably difficult, but if I made that choice to stay, I would have to remember that this is the life I'd chosen to take on. And the person you become as a result of the struggle and fight to recover might even be a person you like better anyway.

This last week we had a situation. A friend invited the kids and I to an overnight at a beach house with her family. One of my first thoughts, admittedly, was that I can't stay trapped at home forever by my husband's "problem"... aaaand things have been feeling more "normal" lately so we should be fine-see-you-on-the-flip-side-bye-bye. He went to work, I went to the beach, end of story.

If only.

I have signed up to be the main helper of  a man with a debilitating disease, and I just left him for a weekend without preparing, without making a plan for his care in my absence. Loneliness swept in with full force and before he knew what was happening, he was slipping.

I'm not saying it's my fault, or that he's not responsible for his own choices and actions. But both of us have a longing to be "normal" (whatever that means), to have a break from the arduous work of recovery. Sometimes, when the work has become a normal part of life and everyone looks healthy, it's easy to forget that we are healthy because we are doing that hard work. If you throw something different into the day, you have to compensate by changing your recovery plan, or "changing your meds" as I like to say. We should have made a Relapse Prevention Plan*. Being active in recovery affords us the freedom of being apart, or doing things that are otherwise triggers to us. So when loneliness comes pounding on the door, my husband would be prepared to answer. And I, instead of secretly worrying like a codependent, could enjoy my time at the beach more fully.

What the Locusts Have Eaten...

There have been years and years-- generations in our family history-- that have been eaten up by an army of locusts...

What the locust swarm has left
the great locusts have eaten;
what the great locusts have left
the young locusts have eaten;
what the young locusts have left
other locusts have eaten.
Joel 1.4

...and I forget that this isn't just a clinical disease that I can control and fix with educated, strategic choices. I forget that a promise has been given to me. I forget what my husband once said that I had to write on the wall because it was so profound it had to be our family mantra: It's not just a fight to survive, we're serving God! It's the promise; the promise is why we're doing this. I saw it again this morning, in Joel:

I will repay you for the years the locusts have eaten--
the great locust and the young locust,
the other locusts and the locust swarm--
my great army that I sent among you
Joel 2.25

Over and over again the Bible tells the same story: the people don't trust Him, they rebel and find their own way and end up leading themselves into destruction. God helps expediate their destruction because He is in a hurry for His people to return to Him. And then the promises: I will repay you... you will have plenty... you will know... because I am faithful... never again will my people be shamed (2.27).

























I am not JUST following doctor's orders. I am living out a promise! What the locusts have eaten, God is restoring...and  I will praise the name of the Lord my God, who has worked wonders for me!

*Creating a Relapse Prevention Plan helps you to remain 'sober' and offers you a way to escape when tempted. I will work on posting a more detailed description of a Relapse Prevention Plan in the future.

Thursday, June 16, 2011

Dr. Ted Roberts on Sexual Addiction

Dr. Roberts used to be our pastor.  We started going to his church because of his Pure Desire ministry, and it was a great first step toward healing both of us.  It is at the same time refreshing and depressing to hear someone speak about sexual addiction with such understanding and knowledge.  It has been a long and painful road to where we stand today (which I haven't told you, is pretty good) but it has been worth it.  But it's heartbreaking how big the problem is, and how ill-equipped the church seems to be to love addicts through to recovery.  I want to be better equipped to help from where I stand, but I'm overwhelmed at the thought of it.  But one day at a time, right?  I listen to God and He leads me where He needs me to go...


Dr. Ted Roberts on Sexual Addiction (Full Interview) from Catalyst on Vimeo.
"Sometimes you feel like Hosea, and you're just trying to take care of Gomer.  'Cause addicts lie and they'll betray you and they'll stab you in the back.  But I see guys coming out, and I see their marriages restored and...it's worth the pain.  It's worth the pain." --Dr. Ted Roberts, Pure Desire Ministries

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Monster

Not that it needs explaining, but this song typifies what is going on inside the addict. It is seriously tragic.

...But not fatal!  Not hopeless.  I love what you hear at the end of the video; the first step toward redemption from addiction. "Sir, we have a containment breach.... we lost 'em.... they're out in the open." That part... is seriously beautiful.

MONSTER
by Skillet


The secret side of me, I never let you see
I keep it caged but I can't control it
So stay away from me, the beast is ugly
I feel the rage and I just can't hold it

It's scratching on the walls, in the closet, in the halls
It comes awake and I can't control it
Hiding under the bed, in my body, in my head
Why won't somebody come and save me from this, make it end?

I feel it deep within, it's just beneath the skin
I must confess that I feel like a monster
I hate what I've become, the nightmare's just begun
I must confess that I feel like a monster

I, I feel like a monster
I, I feel like a monster

My secret side I keep hid under lock and key
I keep it caged but I can't control it
'Cause if I let him out he'll tear me up, break me down
Why won't somebody come and save me from this, make it end?

I feel it deep within, it's just beneath the skin
I must confess that I feel like a monster
I hate what I've become, the nightmare's just begun
I must confess that I feel like a monster

I feel it deep within, it's just beneath the skin
I must confess that I feel like a monster
I, I feel like a monster
I, I feel like a monster

It's hiding in the dark, it's teeth are razor sharp
There's no escape for me, it wants my soul, it wants my heart
No one can hear me scream, maybe it's just a dream
Maybe it's inside of me, stop this monster

I feel it deep within, it's just beneath the skin
I must confess that I feel like a monster
I hate what I've become, the nightmare's just begun
I must confess that I feel like a monster

I feel it deep within, it's just beneath the skin
I must confess that I feel like a monster
I've gotta lose control, do something radical
I must confess that I feel like a monster

I, I feel like a monster
I, I feel like a monster
I, I feel like a monster
I, I feel like a monster

Thursday, April 16, 2009

What Is Meant, An Encouraging Thought

I was watching Lord of the Rings (Fellowship of the Ring) the other night and was rivited by this conversation between Gandalf and Frodo, after Frodo discoverd Gollum following them through the mines of Moria.

Gandalf: He hates and loves the Ring, as he hates and loves himself. He will never be rid of his need for it.

Frodo: It's a pity Bilbo didn't kill him when he had the chance.

Gandalf: Pity? It is pity that stayed Bilbo's hand! Many that live deserve death. Some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them, Frodo? Do not be too eager to deal out death and judgment. Even the very wise cannot see all ends. My heart tells me that Gollum has some part to play yet, for good or ill... before this is over. The pity of Bilbo may rule the fate of many.

Frodo: I wish the Ring had never come to me. I wish none of this had happened.

Gandalf: So do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us. There are other forces at work in this world, Frodo, besides the will of evil. Bilbo was meant to find the Ring. In which case, you also were meant to have it. And that is an encouraging thought.
I'm not sure what I can make the Ring represent. Sometimes I think it's sin, or a treacherous desire, or addiction. Sometimes I think it's marriage. Either way, Gandalf's words are very profound to me. Like anyone who has been betrayed by their spouse, I have spent my share of thoughts wishing I had heeded all the warning signs and never married this dysfunctional man at all. Wishing I had loved myself just a little more back then, and had higher expectations of the man to whom I would promise my heart. Sometimes I dare to let into my mind the terrible, futile wish that I'd "killed" the marriage when I'd had the chance... at the fist disclosure of infidelity, back when we only had two kids . They are sad, crushing wishes to wish.

But there are other forces at work in this world besides the will of evil. I know we could argue for hours about predestination and whether or not I was meant to marry my husband. I think that when we think of 'meant' we get the sense that there is some mind authoring the intention, and it certainly wasn't our own mind. We wouldn't mean for betrayal and heartache to happen to ourselves! And if it wasn't our own mind, that means we are out of control, and who is this that intends for us such grief and sorrow?! Because one would only mean to have good, happy, pleasant things happen to oneself, and if another means something bad to happen, then that person is certainly evil! Right? Or...am I projecting my emotions onto the definition of meant?

If I was meant to marry my husband as a part of a greater design by a God whom I firmly believe is good and loving, then the intention was not to harm me. There is no emotional intention, just design. It is not hard for me to imagine how my persevering through this path I'm on could bring about numerous positive results. Historically and generationally, I am working almost from the ground up. On a quilt, I am the ugly brown patch which works beautifully into the big picture. You will gasp in awe when you finally stand back and see it as a whole design...and I am okay with that. It is encouraging to know that you are part of a design, and that everything that is happening to you is not just willy-nilly purposelessness. The only thing I have to worry about is what to do with the time that is given to me. Glorify my Maker, or not. Hate everyone around me, or be at peace. Because even the very wise cannot see all ends. My heart tells me that before my story is over (including the stories of my children and grandchildren), my addict husband has more parts to play--for good or ill. And the pity I take on him may rule the fate of many. And the suckie thing about fate is that you cannot control whether it will bring you or your loved ones happiness or pain. NOT having pity will result in a different fate, but fate nonetheless. However, we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him. And again, I am ok with that. There is freedom in that conclusion because the responsibility to deal out death and judgment has been lifted. It was an impossible ambition anyway.

I have many more questions as to how I am to spend the time that is given to me, and what it should look like. But for right now I know that time should be spent sleeping, so I'll save those for another post...

Friday, March 27, 2009

Ameliorating

I have recently decided to step up into a social experience I formerly thought only reserved for the hoity-toity...I am joining a Book Club, and I'm really looking forward to it. The book we are reading is Nickle and Dimed, by Barbara Ehrenreich, and I think the book club might be a good way to ameliorate a story that is interesting, but a bit depressing.

My reading was interrupted last night by a brief conversation with my husband about his job status, and when he left I finally shed some tears*, admitting that I felt worried about our financial future, and that I felt lonely and sad for being married to someone I don't feel like I connect to. When I was discovering the word ameliorate above, I came across this quote:
In every human being there is a wish to ameliorate his own condition. --Macaulay.
So many times I am baffled that this presupposed posture of "every human being" seems to be void in my husband....a characteristic of addicts. I am secretly thrilled when he looks in the mirror at his gut and claims to be unsatisfied with the pounds he's packed on in the last year at his new desk job. Maybe-- just maybe-- he will attempt some self-improvement!

But alas, I should focus so much energy into my own self-improvement. And with that, I'm going to go run on the treadmill, take the kids somewhere fun, and stop eating rice crispies just for the texture.

*Recently my emotions wait in the wings like an impending food poisoning which leaves you lying awake in bed for the final signal to run to the toilet. I wish it would just come so I can hurl and get it over with, but I cannot simply will it to rise to the surface so I just feel miserable and try to ignore it until the bug takes it's course.

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

"Luck" has had nothing to do with it...

This is another update of an old post from a former blog...
Our 10th anniversary was March 1, 2007. All the plans I had been formulating in my brain had been shredded when my husband disclosed to me that last November (funny--his company has a document-shredding division). I really had only mildly hoped that there would be a meaningful celebration of our years together; pretty much all my expectations in marriage of your basic love, respect, teamwork, honesty, had all been given up on and my heart was so full of disappointment, there wasn't much there for hope to stick to. Still, it was a definite bummer to hear that what I thought we had left between us was really a total mirage, a lie, a joke...whatever. However, I'm thankful for the Holy Spirit within me (I don't know how to say that without it sounding bible-y) that pointed my heart toward the future, and the big picture, and wrapped my brain around the realization that time means nothing to God, and that it is possible, even at this very moment of devistation, to look forward to better celebrations at 15, 25, maybe even 50 years. I believe in a God that can do that!

When March 1st rolled around, we were actually in the middle of our 90-Days of Celibacy, probably one of the most helpful exercizes in our healing process. Yes, that means that we didn't have sex or do anything alone or with each other that was sexual in any nature. We actually started this 90 days in November, but we messed it up twice and had so start over...from...the...begining... This is no easy feat, but I'll say it again: it was one of, if not the most important things we did to heal ourselves and our relationship. I'll explain more of the wonders of celibacy in another blog.

But now back to the Archive Post. Our 90 Days ended just after our anniversary, and my husband had asked me to renew our vows at that time (you know, so we could "honeymoon" properly). It was all tied in: moving back in (we were separated for about 2 months), ending the 90 days (which meant he could sleep in our bed again), and renewing the vows...and our counselor made it very clear that I was not to take my acceptance of any of these things lightly. I wasn't to just let my husband move back in because it would make my life easier, or end the 90 days just because I like to have sex and a warm body next to me in bed at night. It was a VERY hard decision to make. It was like there was no right answer, no way of knowing for sure that it was safe to make such a committment to this man who had done such horrible things. But there was evidence that he was changing in ways that are only explained by the supernatural. Stuff that doesn't look extremely convincing yet... you know that it seems to be growing in a soil tended by the Almighty, and just might be worth making a leap of faith.

So leap I did. I accepted his proposal, and it was insane how opposite these vows were from the originals. Not just in the words, but in the conviction of them. We were damn serious, let me tell you. This was no light-hearted act of commitment; I believe it was more of the kind of ceremony that the angels sing at, because we were knowingly taking a step forward in full trust in the Father that loves us more than we could ever love each other. Renewing our vows meant we were giving God a chance to heal our hearts, mend our marriage, and live through our redemption. It was the most beautiful ceremony...the beauty being mostly unseen.

We renewed our vows on St. Patrick's Day, next to a very green duck pond (God's little irony, perhaps?), hence the title. But it's true: luck had absolutely nothing to do with getting us to that point. It was pure providence. A series of miracles, and this St. Patrick's Day marked the begining of a whole new set of miracles to come...

--------------------------------------------------
Original Post: March 17, 2007

We renewed our vows to each other this St. Patrick's Day, after 10 years of marriage and surviving more than a couple of marital crises...

My Beloved, this is my covenent to you and our God:
I will be faithful to God by seeking His truth and guidance daily
I will be committed to honesty and integrity.
I will connect regularly with God-fearing men in our community to help strengthen my faith in the Lord.
I will be committed to maintaining sexual purity and obeying His commands.
I will be faithful to you, Beloved, by loving you as modeled in Ephesians 5, "just as Christ loved the Church and gave himself up for her to make her holy..."
I will love you as my own body and self.
I will continually lift you up in prayer, and will pray with humility, out of submission to God, so I may admit when I'm wrong.
I promise to continue taking spiritual leadership in our home as God has placed me as your head.
And, I will be proactive in planning for our future together, and the future of our children.
I love you!
~~~~~~~~~
My Lover, my Husband:
My promise to you is to--first and foremost--be faithful to our Lord God.
I will try to always be teachable, keeping a soft heart toward God.
I will strive to understand His Word, listen to His voice, and always be obedient.
I promise to be faithful to you emotionally, physically and spiritually, regarding you as my head, submitting to you in everything as to the Lord.
I will continue in my quest to be a wife of noble character, so that everything I do will bring glory to God and will bring good to you all the days of my ife...
I love you!